Chapter 7

A large and thick blue blanket of yellow moons and stars was rapped around me, as my naked feet past cement and walked upon grass, as we hard left the back exit of the castle. We entered into a small pine forest, along a path of flattened grass that was kind to my bare feet. The guards held me as I held up my blanket, and the count walked briskly before us, turning a left and leading us into a small clearing. He lifted up a trunk which had been left there, and rooted though its contents, some of which I could see included ropes and whips.

The guards held me still, raising my hands to a strong branch which extended rather strait. The count returned with a thin black cord, and rapped this around my wrists and around the branch. all three backed away, and smirked with sinister stares upon my naked body, my arms rose strait to a branch above me. The rich, cool morning air breezed through my body with an easing sensation. The smells of pine, the morning dew under my feet, and the sounds of squirrels and birds playing about the trees calmed me. My mind and body eased into the moment.

"What do you want to know?" I said. He did not reply. "I presume we came here to talk?"

The count smiled. "No one will hear your cries out here," he said. "Only the birds, the trees, and the foxes. No one will know what goes on out here. As you don't know what has happened here before, to others like you."

Fear hummed in my mind but I held confidence in knowing that the count liked me and wanted me to be his assistant. Surely he would harm me. "You want me to be afraid?" I said. "Is that how you get power over people? With intimidation."

"With awareness," he corrected. "You, my naïve young pianist, are far from aware of the situation your past has baited you to. You belong to me. Your body, your mind, your will -- mine! Is that understood?"

"Do own the trees, and the insects which crawl within them too?" I asked.

The count half-grinned. "I own all THOSE who dwell within the boarders of this island, and that includes you most of all. If I am to have you live, and to train you in my visions, then, young fool, you must learn who is master, and who is servant."

"I play music," I said. "I know my part."

The count laughed. "Teach him."

The grinning lead guard reached into the trunk and removed a long leather belt. It was worn, and broken in places. He folded it in two and walked behind me. My ass muscles flinched as my eyes gazed with hurt upon the count. Part of me was curious to feel the sting -- the raw, thoughtless needs of the flesh, no doubt. But equally as I was allured I was also afraid, having never tasted a belt before. I looked to the count with pleading eyes. "Can we not discuss this?" I asked him.

"We will, afterwards," he said with a nod, looking to the guard who was behind me. "Begin."

I heard the guard drawing back the belt with a strong concentrated movement. My eyes squinted as I readied to receive the pain. CRACK! My eyes shot open, and I gasped. This felt like being struck by a whip, or by lighting -- I did not feel the broad size of the belt over my buttocks at all, but a sharp strike unlike any painful abuse I had imagined possible.

"Strike one," reported the second guard, coldly.

I readied myself, and then -- CRACK! And I gasped again.

"Strike two."

The count grinned upon me in a secretive poise.

"Wa-wait," he said, trembling in fear. "We can discuss this. I-I --"

CRACK!

"Strike three."

A tear slid down my cheek as my hands struggled helplessly to free myself from the rope. The pain was too terrible to endure it any further. I tried to move my ass away, wanting to take it in side instead, as my ass was all ready aching, as if some more sensitive layer lay bare for an infliction too explicit to stand. CRACK! And it went partially against my side, and this heart slightly more. I gasped, teeth flinching.

"Strike four."

CRACK!

"Strike five."

Me penis began to stand, half-mass. This was a further embarrassment from my nudity and beating, the fact that I was exposing that part of me was enjoying this! The guard before me grinned as he saw it rise, his grin taunting and demeaning. I felt smaller and weaker by the minute, yet I never lost heart or respect for myself. I never would.

CRACK!

"Strike six."

I looked back to the count, a second tear sliding down my other cheek. My ass cheeks felt like they were on fire. "Please!" I cried. "Please, I understand now. I will obey you."

CRACK! My body shuddered. "Ow!" I cried out.

"Strike eight."

"Come now," said the count. "You're a big boy. Surely you can take a couple more."

Two more? Two? One, two? Surely I could take it. I coaxed myself.

CRACK! My body shuddered.

"Strike nine."

I lowered my head, preparing myself for the tenth and final strike. This seemed to take longer than prior.

CRACK! I gasped.

"Strike ten."

"Good," said the count. "Let me inspect."

To my further shame my penis rose higher as he approached, and walked behind me. His hands groped my buttocks, pinching the stinging flesh. I cringed as he did this. He then slapped my ass, and I gasped. My penis lowered to half-mass as he and the lead guard walked around and faced me. "You took that well," said the count.

"It was horrible," I said. "I've learned my lesson."

The count studied my eyes for a moment. "No... not yet."

"What do you want me to do!" I burst.

"Give in," said the count. "Accept that I am master. You refuse to do it, in your heart. And so, this lesson cannot end until it does."

"I do!" I said, unable to look him in the eye as I lied. "Anything you want! Please!"

"A second round," said the count.

My head lowered in fear as the guard stepped behind me again. My body shuddered to the first strike of the first round, and to the second, and to every one proceeding. I cried out during the last three. And again the ass inspected my buttocks, and he and the guard walked before me. This time my penis rose fully erected, and I struggled with myself to keep it from clapping. The embarrassment was horrendous.

"He's enjoying it," smirked the guard with the belt. He wove the belt up for my testicles and I flinched, but it only smacked lightly up against them. My penis enjoyed its touch, and sprang up high in reaction. Part of me held some weird affection for this belt, the instrument of my suffering. It held some power over me, and connection on an intimate level. It made no sense to me but I did feel this way.

The count analyzed my eyes and face. "Hmm. We're getting closer," he said.

I struggled with my emotions, part of me allured by my torment and desiring to be beaten further, part of me in agony and shame for the experience and wanting out. The count stepped close, and seemed to be witnessing this struggle. He could see right through me, flesh and mind. I began to feel as though I could keep no secrets away from his view, no will away from his own. On some emotional level I began to accept this, and somehow even enjoy it. Yet I continued to fight it.

"Would you like some more?" asked Count Giles.

I looked deep into his eyes. In them now I saw such power, and also compassion, and mercy. I felt as if deeply connected to him, as some valuable part of my life that shared something intimate with me, although it was very painful. As I felt more weak I felt him more powerful over me, and the more I came to naturally accept our roles. But part of me continued to resist it. There was an innocence and sensitivity in me that yearned for the count's love and approval, and that yearned for his touch, even if it was through cord or strap.

"Why don't you do it yourself," I challenged. Part of me offered this as a way of calling him a coward, and part of me, secretly, wanted him to hurt me.

The count grinned. "I shall, if you lay down upon the grass."

Confused by my own emotions, I nodded.

The guards untied my hands, and with ease I lowered them to my sides. The count led us along, the guards beside me. I reached back and felt my ass, pleased to see that the attack hadn't pierced through the skin as it had felt, and surprised that it had actually made it tamer, more soft. The count led us to a thick patch of rough grass. I got down on my knees, and laid down upon my belly, me penis facing my belly button. As I laid I nearly felt I was displaying my ass in some erotic fashion, desiring that the belt -- the object of my transformation -- be lashed upon me once more.

The count got down on one knee, readied the lash, and whipped it down onto my buttocks. The pain was as bad as it had been before, only now I embraced the pain, and enjoyed it. I found myself smiling, my body easing with strange release. A brought it down again, and again, and again, as each slap registered as a taste of heaven, the harshness somehow light, the sensation growing a yearning. My arms reached ahead and spread our, caressing the grass as the count proceeded to belt me sixteen more times. I laid in a timeless wonder the whole time, my body shaking with agony, and yet loosening with pleasure.

At last the count stopped, and felt my ass. "That's good," he said. The guards helped me to my feet. My penis lowered as I breathed gently. I felt so strangely comfortable, and yet so wonderfully uncomfortable both at the same time. The count looked upon me, and placed his strong hands into the flesh of my shoulders. I looked into his eyes, willing to endure anything at all. "Not so bad, is it?" he grinned. Again he seemed impressed with me.

"No, not so bad," I smiled. "My master." I nodded.