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The manor house looks bigger than it did on the day of my interview, and I flirt with the idea there on the lawn of just turning around and getting on the first train back to London. It wouldn’t cost a lot. I could ask Tor if he wanted to come back and live with me, maybe even go to a dungeon somewhere tonight and let a stranger ruin me. Who am I kidding? I’ll end up searching for a leather guy that looks like E, trying to fill the hole in my heart.
Fortunately, my feet disagree with my brain, and I walk up the driveway instead of running away. When I touch the door, there’s something about the knocker, maybe that it’s there rather than a bell, sparks a feeling of wanting to stay.
“Good morning Matthías,” Salka, Mistress S as I must call her from this point forward or my lady, greets me at the door with a smile, “so wonderful to see you again. J will be along soon, she’s seeing to K.”
Seeing to K, what did that entail exactly? I know I’ll find out in time. “Thank you, my lady. I hope it’s ok that I’m early.”
“We’d expect nothing less from our trainer.” She gestures for me to follow, and we move through the large house in easy silence, broken only by S pointing to this or that room and mentioning little rules I would have to follow or that I will be required to enforce with K. It’s a lot to remember, and already I’m sure I’m going to forget something.
“This will be your room, feel free to leave your things here, and then we’ll wait for J in the sitting room down the hall.”
I don’t have enough time to really study the room I’ll have for the foreseeable future, but that’s fine since there’s not much to it. There’s a bed, a desk and a trunk for my things with some storage space on the walls and a closet. I don’t know why I was expecting something kinkier, chains on the walls or the floor, and obvious kink paraphernalia; this isn’t E’s house. This is another beast entirely. “Thank you, this room looks like it has everything I need.”
“Wonderful. Please tell us if there’s anything else you need, and we’ll see what we can do.”
The sounds that travel down from the end of the hallway fill in my mental map of where K’s room must be. My room is just like E’s and Madam’s room, sitting between my room and the kitchen… I need to stop that. Comparing won’t help, and it’s only going to make me more unhappy.
“Matthías?”
“Yes? Oh, I’m sorry, I was just picturing where to put everything.”
“You are keen,” yet S doesn’t seem upset; if anything, she seems pleased by my level of (fake) interest. Perhaps this was a bigger mistake than I thought if she’s that easily fooled.
“Master E did mention you were the keen type.”
Did he? “Did he? That’s kind of him.”
She says nothing more, so I lay down my stuff, and we move to their sitting room where they first conducted my interview, and I stand awkwardly against the wall as we wait for J. I’m not offered a seat and perhaps this is the first time I’ve felt I’m in the right place. I may not be at the bottom of the food chain, but I’m not taking over a master role either. I can handle the middle.
I hear the soft, muted crack in the hallway floorboards a moment before the handle turns on the study door. I file that sound away. This old house no doubt has plenty of secrets I should learn to ensure I can best serve it. It’s far more appealing when I think about my role that way. Perhaps I should be thinking of what I can be here rather than what they expect of me.
J sweeps in - not walks but sweeps with all the flourish of royalty - a thin chain in her hand attaching to a rather prettily collared but otherwise naked man. This must be K. I can already hear the whining that he no doubt will be doing when I start training him.
“K, this is Matthías.” K lifts his head to look at J, but his eyes sneak a glance at me at the same time. I put on my best look of irritation and dislike and instead enjoyed the slight worry now on his face. “As I have already explained, we have hired him to work on your manners and to remove some of that wilful disobedience you’ve accumulated as of late.”
He gives me a nod, something that is courteous here but would never stack up in a leather bar. He’d be eaten alive. “My ladies,” I begin, my mind barely working out the words before I’m speaking to the two Mistresses. During the interview, they stressed that there was no ‘too far’ with K, that the rules of BDSM play were, for the most part, removed with him, and it did him more harm to play it safe. They were hiring me to be demanding and exacting, not to be his friend. It would be like playing a part at first until I learned what worked. No point in waiting.
“Do I have your permission to take that thing in hand immediately? I realize we have only just been introduced, but I would like to begin things as they mean to go on, so there’s no confusion of what I am to the… slave.”
Both women seem greatly pleased by this idea, that I’ll treat him like dirt as they requested, and even I must admit the delivery was smoother than I hoped. I can feel myself standing a little straighter.
“Of course, Matthías, please, don’t let us stop you from doing what we hired you to do. We have been looking forward to seeing your methods.”
“Thank you, both.” I turn my attention to K, and I remind him of his place with a shove of my boot to his leg after he dares to look up at me. No, that won’t do. “Did your Mistresses or I say you may look at me?”
“No, sir.” He averts his eyes, but I tip his chin up with the end of a crop S gave me only a moment ago when we entered the room. To him, I’m sure it seemed to appear out of nowhere which is precisely the mystique I wish to conjure.
“Sir doesn’t suit me, nor does it suit this house. Try again. I’m feeling generous, so you get one more opportunity.” Fuck, that sounds like E, but that doesn’t matter, K doesn’t know him.
He hesitates, not wanting to make another mistake but finally decides when I give him another poke with the crop on his chin. “No, my lord, they did not. I’m afraid I’m in the dark about my protocols when it comes to you.”
Interesting phrasing, and I’m pleased he doesn’t shrink away from the crop. “I will ensure you don’t rest until you’re familiar with all the protocols, slave. You’ve gotten away with a lot, even bending your Mistresses’ wills to your whim.”
“How dare you! I would never!” He retorts, quite quickly and loudly, the Mistresses’ eyes show their shock at how quickly my words have caused him to no doubt go against their teachings.
“I should hope your punishment for this is severe,” Mistress J says to me. “I knew it was getting worse, but this? I am appalled at this behaviour.” She glares.
“As am I, my lady,” I reply, as serious as I can muster. Don’t smile. “I have my work ahead of me to ensure he is worthy of both your dominance.” I turn my gaze back to him and see him shiver. Good. “Stand up, slave.”
He obeys, struggling to his feet. From what the Mistresses have told me, I know he shouldn’t be standing in this room and never in his Mistresses’ presence. This is a tiny test of what power I have. He shakes a little like a scolded hound. “I - I shouldn’t,” He starts to explain even as he does as I ask, his eyes dart from me to his Mistresses and back again.
“You shouldn’t be standing in your Mistresses’ study, I’m aware. I am sure they will forgive this to see a proper punishment for your woeful lack of respect to their new instrument.”
The Mistresses nod their agreement, and relief floods through me. This comment also seems to calm K a little, too. An instrument of their power. I don’t know where I came up with that phrase, but I like it. After all, it was explained to me that he was merely another tool for their control. That I’m meant to be another display of their power over him, so it stands to reason that he’s an instrument for them to play as it pleases them. I flick my wrist, and he turns as instructed, bending rather elegantly at the waist and displaying his ass in a way that is frankly envious.
However, the sound of the crop hitting the floor and my belt being unbuckled makes him arch his hips a little more and gives me an even better target to hit him. When was the last time I used a belt? It seems like it’s been forever, but the leather belt which E gave me last year slips through my hands and feels right. The first crack he takes stoically, he barely winces. I hear a little noise as the red blossoms on his skin. Third and fourth, he can’t keep it in, and on the fifth, he’s actively blubbering away that it hurts, please, my lord, it hurts!. So does my heart, now we’ll have something in common.
I stop at five and a look from S, then scoff and toss the belt over my shoulder. I grasp the bruised flesh to squeeze and knead until he keens. I’m surprised at how deeply that sound affects me. He doesn’t squirm away from my touch, though, in fact, I have to remind myself to stop after I usually would because he becomes so compliant even during a punishment, it would be easy to forget to pull back and damage his close to perfect skin. “This is my introduction, K,” I say as I squeeze harder to draw out a few more sobs before I let go. “This is the kindest I’ll ever be to you during my time here.” He winces, and I pull his head up by his silky locks to make my point. “Remember it, slave, keep it in your mind when you sleep naked on the floor that you’ve wasted your chance to spend time with me when I care about your feelings.” He sniffs, and whether it’s the role I’m playing or my still delicate emotional state, I take pleasure in seeing him in pain and clearly upset. I finally let go and step back, trying to act like I’m disgusted by having to touch him, wiping my hands on my trousers. Really I’m aroused and irritated. I can’t do anything about it. “Apologize to your Mistresses. Perhaps they’ll take pity on you when I won’t.”
“I’m sorry, Mistresses, I’m sorry for my behaviour.” He pleads.” I throw myself onto your mercy and hope you’ll deem this pitiful creature worthy to see you again… someday after the appropriate corrections.” On his knees, K presses his forehead to his hands and stays there shaking a little until J sets her heel on his shoulder.
“We’re lucky to have found Matthías when we did,” she says with a smile directed at me. “He’s going to be a big help in making sure you remember your place.”
“I’m sorry,” K repeats with his face still in his hands, he may even be genuinely crying, but S takes pity and shushes him gently. J presses into his shoulder, and he whimpers, but the crying seems to stop, and her attention is now on me.
“He’s yours to use as you wish, Matthías. Just make sure he’s on time if we request him and make sure he gets enough sleep. We have guests that would appreciate it if he had any cock-sucking skills at all. Currently, he does not, so have fun… teaching him what to do.”
“Of course, Mistresses, I’ll ensure he thrives and learns what is expected of him.” She tosses me the leash and the crop when she finishes speaking, and I am suddenly hit with the realization that we’ve been effectively dismissed with less direction than I had hoped for. It’s a frightening feeling to be in charge of something that has been ongoing long before I got here and have to pretend like I know what I’m doing. I give the leash a tug, and K whines but falls in line next to me, and we travel down the hall in silence.
“We’ll work on walking on a leash until you can do it without embarrassing me.”
“Yes, my lord. I apologize for embarrassing you now.”
How do they stand his constant apologies? Do S and J expect me to encourage that? I almost don’t want to ask in case the answer is yes. “If you apologize every time you fuck up, K, you will never stop speaking. Choose when you speak wisely. There’s a certain charm about shutting up and simply letting my word be the last.”
He nods rather than speaking, like the smug little bastard he is, and I want to press him against the wall, no… I want to force him to his knees and work him until he begs me to stop. Even if he lacks cock-sucking skills, I can find the patience to teach him.
We arrive at his room, but I step inside behind him rather than discard him and close the door. He looks surprised, and I’m glad my instinct is correct to start him on the wrong foot. “So, this is your room?”
“This is the Mistresses’ room that they kindly allow me to use, my lord.”
Right, high and intense protocol, I need to watch what I say. “And you are, of course, immeasurably grateful for such a gift.”
“Yes, my lord, very.”
“Then, on your knees here, in the center of your Mistresses’ room, and we’ll start your lessons.” He looks confused at my order and perhaps a little frightened, which certainly helps my cock get ready for what’s about to happen. “Are you planning to go against their wishes, K? Should I tell Mistress J when I next see her that her slave refused my instruction so soon after being released into my care?”
“No, my lord, I would never do that! Please don’t tell her that.”
“Now, you presume to tell me what to do?” My voice rises up, and he shrinks down. “Lessons, K.” I open the front of the trousers and wait until he glances up to pull my cock out and stand there waiting for him to take the initiative.
“My lord, I’m unskilled at that particular - “he starts to protest as he sits back on his heels in front of me. I set the flapper of the crop on his nose, and he quiets immediately, and his eyes widen.
“I know. That’s why these are lessons and not an exam, slave.” I force myself to keep my voice down, yelling will only make him retreat, and I want to worry him, not terrify him and make him shut down. “Stop stalling and get your mouth on my cock.”
I thought his Mistresses were exaggerating when they said that his skills were lacking, but they weren’t. I have to twist his hair to remind him of his teeth and to set the rhythm. While a mouth is a mouth, this isn’t the most desirable ones. It’s only when I grab the back of his head and push in until he gags that it starts to feel good. He has tears in his eyes, his face is flushed, and I know his lips will be swollen as I move his head to what I like.
“Better,” I breathe as he voluntarily swallows me down and then almost pulls off in a long and smooth motion. “You can go further.” He whines at me as I knew he would, but when I shift my hips which makes him cough, he does go a little further. “You heard me. That’s it, further still.”
His eyes are closed; I don’t doubt he’s thinking of his Mistresses, which is fine we’ll need to break him of that obvious habit, is all. Otherwise, he’s the picture of debauchery; all that’s missing is…
“Sit back. I don’t want that filthy untalented hole near me anymore.” I jerk off above him, and when they come, splashes on his cheeks, he grimaces. I need to fix that too; I don’t care what he does after I come, but the Mistresses are fickle. “Don’t touch it,” I growl, and his hand stills. “We’ll do this again tomorrow and the next day and the next until I’m satisfied.” I turn on my heel without giving him the chance to ask any questions and leave him confused with fluids drying on his skin.
Perhaps it’s too far, but I take his blanket as I leave as payment for the mediocre blowjob, and I don’t feel sorry for him now being forced to sleep on the floor. In fact, I sleep well that night in my comfortable and warm bed.
---
K didn’t sleep well. When I go to his room and bring him his breakfast, he looks a mess. His eyes are red from crying, and the dried semen on his cheek is mostly still there. He doesn’t look at me, and he visibly recoils to a safer distance when I walk towards him.
“You look disgusting. What’s your excuse for being so unavailable for me today?”
“I didn’t sleep well, my lord; my room was cold.”
“Is that my problem?”
“No, my lord, of course not. You asked… I apologize -” he hesitates, and I’m pleased to see he remembered what I said about excessively apologizing. “How may I serve you, my lord?”
“Eat. I will give you a chance to earn your blanket back today if you can keep from whining.” He brightens as he eats, and I look around his room before leaving him to it with a promise to return.
—
“Put these on,” I say, and K holds the clothes I’ve given him like he’s never seen fabric before, which I’m starting to believe since he never seems to be clothed. “Quickly, you’re wasting my time.”
He works quickly but grimaces at each step until he’s kneeling, then standing wearing zippered trousers and a hoodie.
“Do you not like the clothes, K?” I stalk around him, and he drops his eyes, but he gives his head a little shake as though doing so quietly is going to make it less impactful. “That’s a shame. Your Mistresses want me to fix you, and I’m going to with methods I’ve learned work. The fun part is I’ll only do to you what was done to me.”
“Then you were once…” he trails off. He probably can’t articulate the thought that his mistresses hired a trainer who once was a sub like him. It probably makes me less in his mind. “Do the Mistresses know?”
“Yes. They consider it an asset. I know the kind of things you probably pull to get what you want. Go get the chair in the hallway and bring it back here.” His lack of furniture is annoying, but I’ll make do. I stand there observing and try to note and remember all the little things K does, just like I used to do with Tor. Where J sweeps into rooms, K scurries, and it takes effort to keep from laughing at his quick and desperate little movements. “Set it there, now bend at the waist and grip the back of the chair.” I force myself to saunter past him, eyeing K as he squirms a little under my gaze. “Do you ever serve men in this house, K?”
“Yes, my lord, although I’m not good at it.”
“Sucking, yes, I’m aware. You’re not good at being fucked either?”
“Oh.” It’s a slight inhaled noise of surprise, “I-I’m not capable of answering that question, my lord, I’m not privy to the guests’ opinions.”
I sigh, the formality of it all is killing me, and I wonder how E dealt with this. Is it so difficult for him to just answer my question? “Do the same people ask for you more than once?”
“Yes, my lord.”
“Have they complained that you aren’t a good fuck?”
He twitches at the word fuck, and another note is added to my mind. “The Mistresses have not told me anyone has complained, my lord and I haven’t been punished because of it.”
“Ok. Well, I’m not going to fuck you. You haven’t earned it, and I’d rather jerk off than get mediocre ass from you.” He doesn’t argue, but his head dips a little. I reach over and pull down the zipper on the seat of the jeans, and he stiffens for a moment. Somehow, he hadn’t noticed the easy access the trousers allow. “You’re pretty but untalented, K, so we’ll work on the talent and keep the pretty tucked away. I don’t want to get distracted.”
“Yes, my lord.”
“When I come into your room with breakfast, this is how I want you. Clothed but accessible and bent over a chair in case the urge to fuck you actually does appeal to me. Do you understand those instructions?”
He nods and then nods a little harder as my hand sweeps over his ass, my fingers tuck under the open sides of the trousers to very briefly caress his flesh. He shivers, and it goes straight to my groin, he may have a lot of faults, but he’s sensual in a way I haven’t really seen before. Perhaps fucking him now would be beneficial; I can see what I’m working with. “Do you have lube in this room, K?”
“Yes, my lord. May I get it for you?”
“Please do.”
He fetches it in silence, quickly and efficiently without hesitation and then offers it to me just as perfectly. I wave my hand in a gesture for him to do it, and he blushes but sets about prepping himself. It’s like something out of a book or a video where the little faults every human has are just concealed by the repetition of how it should be done. It’s almost eerie in a way. When he’s finished, he bends back over the chair and sticks his ass out. I waste no time indulging because that’s what it is indulging under the guise of seeing what I’m working with.
When I finish, far too early for my liking, I pull out and busy myself with tucking things back in and tidying myself up. K leans against the chair, panting, a stain of precome on the front of the jeans he’s wearing; he hasn’t come yet and presumably won’t unless I give him permission. Maybe I’ll do that later as a reward. “Unless the Mistresses give you permission, you’re not to come until I say so. I’ll be back later, K.”
“Thank you for the chance to serve you, my lord.”
When I leave the room, I catch him sitting down on his mattress and fussing with the fastening on the jeans.
---
“Matthías, may we see you in our sitting room, please?” Mistress S asks from the doorway of my room a few days later. “Right now.”
It feels like I swallowed a rock hearing that nothing good ever comes from someone asking to see you right away. I nod and follow her out, but when we walk into the sitting room, I see Mistress J and confirm my suspicions. J looks unhappy, an expression not unlike the one that Madam S gave me on more than one occasion when I wasted her time.
“How is the training going, Matthías?” J asks me, and I shift a little on my feet.
“Slow, but I’m seeing a bit of progress, Mistress.”
“Are you? Interesting.” She considers me for a moment and then takes a sip of water. “You agreed to serve us as well as train K, is that right?”
“That’s correct.”
“Kneel then, please.”
I slowly lower myself to my knees, appreciating the rug I’m able to kneel on instead of the old hardwood floors. “May I ask if I’ve done something wrong, Mistresses?”
“You may ask,” S chimes in as she takes a seat next to her partner. “But we have no reason to answer.” She strokes the back of J’s hand where it sits on the armrest, and J gives her a quiet smile.
“We wanted to make sure you know exactly where you fit in, Matthías and to clear up any issues before they can get worse. So tell me, how many times has K sucked your cock? Is that where the improvement has come?”
“Just once, Mistress, but - “
“We know” J says as she holds up a hand to shush me. My suspicions were correct. I’m here because I fucked up. I thought I had free reign, and I do, but it’s within the constraints they have put on me. “K has already told us. What was the one thing we wanted you to work on first?”
“Oral sex.”
“Correct. See, you were paying attention, and yet you’ve spent more time fucking him and preparing him to be fucked.” I don’t protest that, and J continues talking as though she didn’t leave a break in her speech for me to do exactly that. “What should your punishment be, Matthías? What can we do to remind you to follow our instructions? And don’t say it’s up to us or whatever we wish because we get enough of that with K.”
I think for a moment, although I almost immediately know what I’m going to say. “I can think of two things, Mistresses. One would be caning, and the other would be denial unless I’m training with K and only in the method you wish me to train him.”
“Those are good ideas; let’s do both,” J says. I don’t flinch outwardly but inside it bothers me.
“We can start right now,” S adds as she gets up and pulls a cane out of the large vase near the door. She tests it in her hands and satisfied she gestures for me to rise. “K was given five strokes of the crop; as his trainer, you should get at least double that with a cane.” I bend, and S strokes down my spine, indicating I should bend that little bit more. With my trousers pooling on the floor, I close my eyes and wait for her to begin.
When she finishes the tenth stroke, I stop biting my lip and blink back the tears that threaten to fall. I would never have expected her to have a heavier hand than E. “Thank you, my lady. I won’t make that mistake again.”
“I’m sure you won’t, Matti. Go finish your tasks for the day and remember part two of the punishment when you visit K later.”
J pipes up after I bow but before I leave the room. “K is not to know of your punishments, Matti; it would only confuse him.”
I guess I’m Matti now to them. “Of course, Mistress.” I wince. “Will there be anything else?”
“Join us later tonight after K goes to bed, we have a new toy we want to try out, and your sore ass will add to the experience. If you wish, of course, there’s no requirement.”
A strap-on, no doubt. “I look forward to it.” That’s not a lie. I do look forward to it even as my ass throbs from my trousers rubbing against the stripes.
I head back to my room and shut the door, sitting down at the desk and opening to the first page of the new journal E had handed me before I left his house. Grabbing a pen, I put ‘Day One’ at the top of the page and then start at the blank sheet.
‘I feel bad about saying this, but it’s in the nature of the role I took on - I look forward to making K’s life miserable. I’m sure if I asked him and he answered me honestly, he would want the same, and I’m not sure if that makes it better or worse. Either way, this is the beginning of a new chapter of a new book, I don’t know all the rules yet, but I am looking forward to seeing how it goes.’