Chapter 3

Three days later it was time to collect my newest and most beautiful possession.

Before setting off to fetch him I had a word with the overseer to set up a little exhibition for later in the day

When I got to the prison I completed the paper work, paid the fee, and then they brought him to me.

They had tidied him up somewhat. He had been given a rather basic haircut (though his hair had still not been washed), and this time he wore shirt and shoes as well as the shorts. The black eye had faded quite well. I couldn’t see his back.

He looked at me sullenly, but I ignored that for the moment - discipline could come later - and let him out to the car.

‘Get in’

Still without speaking, he got in the front, I got in the back and the driver - another slave - took us back to my place.

We got out, and he stood there, looking at me rather apprehensively.

‘So Rob, it’s time to decide whether you want to be my secretary or just another slave. Let me help you make the decision. Come this way’.

I led him over to the yard in front of the house. At one end was a whipping post, and lashed to it stood a man of about 30, quite muscular and stark naked. A little distance away stood Cerberus, holding a cat o’nine tails. The remaining slaves were lined up in a semi-circle to watch the proceedings. Two of them held buckets of water.

I turned to Rob, who was standing behind me.

‘Let me make some introductions. The man with the lash is Cerberus, the overseer. Big chap, as you can see. He’s going to demonstrate how ordinary slaves here are disciplined. Tied to the post is Ronald. He’s a slave, and I caught him trying to drink some of my wine. That’s theft, but then he is a thief, just like you’.

He winced at that comment, but said nothing.

He has an alcohol problem - that’s what got him into trouble in the first place. We’re trying to re-educate him about that. Today he’s getting 25 lashes to encourage him to think harder about concepts of ownership of goods. Just watch’

I nodded to Cerberus:

‘Carry on’

Cerberus settled himself in a comfortable stance and at an appropriate distance from the slave. He draw back the lash and swung it viciously. It cracked across Ronald’s back. It wasn’t the first time he had been flogged, and it was a point of pride among the slaves to remain silent for as long as possible during a flogging and then to show as little pain as possible. But even on this first stroke Ronald let out a gasp. Cerberus had struck hard and accurately, and there was already an angry red line half way up the slave’s back.

Cerberus paused for a moment, then drew back the lash and struck again, this time a little lower, but just as hard. This drew a louder gasp and produced another red line.

By the fifth stroke Ronald’s back had five parallel stripes - Cerberus was an experienced flogger and had a very accurate aim, and I had told him to lay it on today for Rob’s benefit.

On the sixth stroke, which crossed a little with the existing marks, Ronald began to crack. He yelled

‘No’

Cerberus of course ignored him. The sentence was twenty-five lashes - I took it rather personally when slaves drank my wine - and there was never any remission for anything.

By the twelfth stroke Ronald’s back was red all the way up, and there was blood in some places. He was screaming now at each stroke, but Cerberus was relentless.

By twenty strokes Ronald was slumped on the post, too far gone even to scream. Slowly and methodically Cerberus completed the last five strokes. By the end Ronald had lost consciousness.

After the last stroke Cerberus put down the lash, went to the whipping post and untied the slave, who collapsed in a senseless heap. Cerberus turned to the slaves with the buckets of water.

‘See to him’

The slaves picked Ronald up, turned him face up and threw the water in his face. That revived him enough so that he could feel the pain again. They put his arms around their shoulders and dragged him off, obviously in agony.

‘Well done, Cerberus’. I said. ‘Carry on’

Then I turned again to Rob;

He looked very shaken. Nis naturally creamy complexion had gone rather green, as if he felt unwell. I was fairly hard, from watching the whipping.

‘Inside’

He followed me into the house, and I led him to my study, where I did all the management of my estate. It was a modest-sized room, with a worktable, a comfortable chair for me and a rather less comfortable chair for my assistant.

‘So, Rob, time to decide. Either you become my secretary and lover, or you can work under Cerberus with the other slaves. Up to you’

He looked at me hesitantly. Again I saw the beautiful 16-year old who had tormented so much of my adolescence.

‘If you want Cerberus, just walk outside and tell him you’re working for him now. I’m sure he’ll be glad of another slave to flog. Alternatively, if you want to be with me, strip naked right here and right now.’

Then I held my breath. I wasn’t at all sure that I could turn him over to Cerberus. That would mean watching while he was humiliated and no doubt savagely beaten. The good looks would soon disappear and he would become just another ground-down slave. It would be no more than he deserved if he continued to turn me down, but that wasn’t why I had bought him, and I wasn’t sure I could stand to watch it happen.

He made one more attempt to unnerve me

‘I’ll never be gay’

‘you don’t have to be gay. You just have to have sex with me whenever I want’

There was a pause, probably only a few seconds, though it felt like much longer.

Then his hand went to his shirt and he began to unbutton it.

He didn’t try to make stripping an erotic act, but even so I was rock hard in an instant. I had seen his torso before - on the inspection visit at the prison - but as he slipped the shirt off and it came into view again I remembered at least some of why I had fancied him so much. He wasn’t over-muscled, but he was, to my eye, perfectly proportioned. A beautiful six-pack and biceps which hinted at a lot of strength. His skin was still smooth, except for the cane marks on his back, which had not healed completely. Again, I had to restrain myself from kissing him. Instead I kept the straightest face I could and affected to be waiting impatiently for his obedience.

He looked at me then, and I could see that he was interested to see how I was taking it.