Boy Number 2039

Published on Feb 28, 2012

Gay

Boy Number 2039 - Part 2

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Boy Number 2039 - Part 2
By
PJ Franklin pjfranklinboy2@earthlink.net

A racquetball court, the executive recreational facility, North American Division, Kobalt Industries …

The small rubberized ball rocketed just past the younger male's ear at an enormous pace just before it struck the front wall so low that there was no chance of making a return. The teen nonetheless made an effort, stretching his lean body out fully, extending his right arm forward barely missing contact with the ball as it rebounded just out of his reach. Game, set and match.

Reese Connaught lay there a moment, soaked in sweat, panting for air and realizing once again that he may never beat his father at this game. Price Connaught was just too good. Hell, he was too good at everything. Look at what he now owned. Kobalt had gone international just five years before when Reese was just eleven years old and was not even close to the Fortune 500 list. Now it was number 10 on the coveted list.

Price looked down at his son's body, reached down and pulled him up by the elastic waist of his black sports shorts to standing and in doing so had pulled them halfway off the boy's jock-strap framed buttocks.

Reese didn't bother pulling the shorts back up. He looked down at his exposed pubes a moment then up at his father, a stern and displeased expression on his face. Reese knew what was next but still waited.

"How did you lose that game?" Price glared.

"You're better than me!" Reese glared back, like father, like son.

Suddenly, Reese found himself pressed up against the far wall face first his black silken shorts tethering his knees together and out of the corner of his eye, his Dad had reached for and got the leather strap from his sports bag. Reese squeezed his eyes shut and waited for the inevitable,

"NO! It is NOT because I am better than you Reese! It's because … " and then the father laid on five hard cuts of the strap across the boy's bared buttocks, "You don't PRACTICE enough!" and then laid another five cuts forcing two tears down the boy's cheeks.

Price then stood back and looked at the welts he had caused and tossed the strap back into the bag,

"Let's shower, I need to get to a board meeting and you still need to inspect Plant #10," Price said as if none of it had happened.

"Yes sir," Reese said, wiped his face and pulled his shorts up over his sore posterior and followed his father outside of the glass-walled court and into the corridor that lead down to the shower.

Thoughts ran through Reese's mind as he followed his father's form, but not what you would think. As his buttocks still stung his cock aroused. It always aroused now when he fucked up and got a good whipping over his Dad's knee. Make that "fucked up."

All the times in the past few months that Reese had made up shit to get some "attention" now came to mind, manufactured stuff no less clever than Dad's engineers made up new ways to dazzle the world with endless inexpensive gadgets for the masses or super-expensive rare weaponry for the military. Like father, like son.

By the time he reached the showers Reese was fully aroused. He stripped off the black shorts and the jock strap and stepped into the steamy cubicle, his Dad naked, right next to him. Reese looked over, he always did at Dad's limp long cut cock and compared it to his own. His was almost now as long, almost as thick when limp. It wasn't a competition, but it was.

Price looked over, "Nice dive at the end by the way, at least you tried," and then noticed his son's full arousal.

"How's that … that friendship with that boy, what is his name? From the Academy?"

"How many times do I have to tell you Dad, Mark, Mark Spencer and we're not friends anymore, we … we broke up," having given up trying to explain that Mark, like the others, had been more than just friends.

What was this, the fifth time, Price thought? Or the sixth boy that Reese swore was "the one?" Why did boys his age insist on relationships anyway? Rich kids at a rich kid's school using each other was all it was. Love? Love was a joke unless it was familial love. Now that was real love, not that Price Connaught knew a lot about that either.

If real love were a product, he would already have patented and sold it under the Kobalt banner. It was the only thing that had ever eluded Price, but eluded him it had.

"I'm sorry. I thought you and he were … you know … " Price said and then looked away, "You two need to get a room!" Price then teased his son about his erection, he was in good humor.

That was the thing wasn't it, Reece never knew at times which Dad was really his. One moment, Dad was the King of the Manufacturing World, the cunning lone wolf, fierce and relentless. The next, he was the  star athlete, a professional competitor, confident, even entertaining and once in a blue moon, downright funny, even kind at least to Reece if not to the tens of thousands of boys, men, women and girls that Kobalt employed, if you can call slave-labor wages a job.

"What's the matter Dad, afraid to admit that you've done it with boys and men before?" Reece then jabbed trying to match his old Dad with something he had been saving for a while now.

Price looked at his son. So, that's how it was going to be. Like father, like son. Reece was nearly sixteen,  his birthday hardly two weeks away and so he did know about … "those times."

"How did you find out?" Price then asked secretly thrilled that Reece had the initiative to somehow have ferreted out the secretive information.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" and that gained Reece a hard spank of Dad's big paw across his wet and still sore ass.

"OUUU! That hurts!" Reece half grimaced, half grinned and covered his butt with his hands.

"Like that son? Want some more?" Price teased.

"Noooo! Why would I like that?" Reece acted surprised.

"A little bird told me, make that several. Like that time you and Mark were messing around in the cabin up at the lake or that time that you and Mark were getting fresh with each other on the yacht or … "

"OK! OK!  I get it!" Reece sheepishly sighed, frustrated at himself for not being careful enough to hide his and Mark's horny escapades thinking they had finally gotten off alone each and every time.

"Hey, I have an idea. Your birthday is just what, two weeks away. How about I give you your birthday spanking now?"

"Now? That doesn't make any sense. You're supposed to do it on my fucking birthday," Reece replied purposely and it worked, another spank landed on his ass, a good one and this time he just let his flesh sizzle away and enjoyed it.

"I fucking think I should fucking give you your fucking birthday spanking fucking now if I fucking want to!" Price said mocking his son's generation.

Reece pretended to ignore Dad now. He wanted to get off but no way he would do that in front of his old man, not that he had not thought of it many times before.

"I'll give you your birthday present after," Price baited his son.

SHIT! FUCK! Dad's presents were always totally awesome, the envy of every two-bit rich kid at St. Beaumont's Boy's Academy. Now Reece had to know!

"Fine! Have it your way, you always get your way!" Reece "protested."

"Of course I do. Why do you think I own half the planet," Price replied.

"You wish!" Reece grinned and hurriedly left the shower stall barely avoiding another spank as they went out into the drying area of the empty private suite.

Price reached into the sports bag with the strap but this time drew out a thick envelope with Reece's name on it. Reece took a stab at snatching it from Dad's grasp, almost like in the court but missed,

"Tich, tich! Aren't we forgetting something?" Price smirked.

"Fine!" Reece said as Price sat and drew his son across his lap divesting him of his towel and ignoring his son's erection.

Price called out the count of fifteen pretty hard spanks, Reece simply took the pain figuring to later use the occasion for his private jack-off session just to get to the good part, his present, if you could call an envelope a proper present.

"What's this?" Reece asked now holding it as his butt throbbed.

"Open it," Price said.

"Looks like money. I have enough cash Dad," Reece teased and then yelped as another spank made its mark.

Reece then withdrew the contents of the envelope and started to read. His eyes grew big. Reece's eyes never grew that big even when Dad had given him a late model Porche for his last birthday. It was still in the multi-car garage back home awaiting its new owner to grow up and get a driving license.

"No fucking way!!" Reece blurted which pleased Price. It had become near to impossible to surprise his son for obvious reasons.

"Way," Price said in the vernacular.

"DAD!!" Reece said reading in a fury and then hugged his father, hard!

"I though it was time. You've earned it, well that game today did not help," Price teased.

Reece ignored the tease, his heart beating in a fury of excitement and he re-read the brochure and looked at the pictures of the twinned A+ Foster Enterprises voluntary slave-boys that now belonged to him, well, to Dad, but they were for him,

"Two Dad?"

"Sure, why not," Price said sheepishly.

"Dad??" Reece looked playfully sternly at his father.

Price Connaught almost never did anything for anyone that did not also benefit his own bottom line. Even the enormous monetary gifts that he had bestowed on St. Beaumont Academy had a price and a stiff one, rights to a parcel of St. Beaumont land that harbored an undiscovered oil field that his engineers had secretly found and Price had legally finagled in the contracts.

"Well … I kind of thought one of them might … you know," Price hesitated for effect.

"Dad! You want a slave-boy? To serve you? A guy and not a girl?" Reece's eyes got big for the second time.

"Maybe like son, like father?" Price finally admitted and now Reece just gawked, speechless. Not bad for a boy that had single-handedly defeated all but the very best of the senior class debate team in intra-murals the prior term without really trying that hard.

Reece's cock was starting to leak. Imagine it, he and his old man, side by side, fucking these hot bitches from Foster Enterprises. Like father, like … oh shut up!!!

* * * * * * * * * *

Reece Connaught may not yet be able to match wit's with father Price on a racquetball court but just ask any of the ten supervisors in Plant #10 what they thought of the fifteen year old's ability to strike fear (and therefore obedience and productivity) in any one of them practically just by his standing inside the massive steel double door to the massive production line room.

It was "Good day Mr. Connaught" or "Good evening Mr. Connaught" or "We need your advice Mr. Connaught" or God forbid, "It won't happen again Mr. Connaught."

Unfortunately, there had been a bit too much of the latter in the past few weeks. Reece, unlike father Price, allowed just a little slack, but cross him twice and there would be hell to pay and today was "pay day."

Reece glared at Ben Thatcher. Ben had been on the job for five months, not bad for a twenty year old from the ghettos, but we're not talking the old historical non-white ghettos of the past. We're talking the whole damn inner city now or was it now outer too? It didn't matter, Ben was as white as milk on bleached lamb's wool.

Getting a supervisor's job at Kobalt was not only highly valued, but boys his age would do anything to get one and I mean anything. Ben had.

"In my office Thatcher, NOW!" Reece pointed. Ben got nervous, VERY nervous. His line had one problem after the other lately. It wasn't his fault! Well, not really, that is to say, it was, but you couldn't find good workers anymore or at least not if you didn't pay and he had spent all of that budgeted graft on, well, drugs.

"Sir, I … "

"Fucking SHUT IT!" meaning Ben's mouth. Reece had picked Ben out of twenty other better qualified candidates for one reason and one only. Reece loved blondes or at least blondes with bubble butts and this older "kid" had a great one.

Reece had no intension of firing Ben. He reached into the drawer of his desk and drew "it" out. Ben stared at "it" and blushed and started to shake a little. He hated the thick two-tailed leather device. It had a name, but nobody could quite remember it, but they did remember how it felt when Reece would storm around and punish any supervisor's bare ass in front of his own workers with it to make a point when the line was not working properly.

That he was alone with Mr. Connaught in his office with the implement out front meant only one thing, but now it was too late to bring the line into order.

"You know what to do if you want to save your precious job," Reece hissed and then watched,

"Yes Mr. Connaught, thank you Mr. Connaught," Ben said trembling as he stripped naked and stretched himself across the desk's length as the much younger male stepped to his side. Only it wasn't that simple.

Reece bent forward, separated Ben's bottom cheeks and then enjoyed a season of oral-anal, his tongue teasing and licking until he was sure Ben was hard as a rock. Only then did he stand and start to give Ben cut after cut after cut of the tawse causing Ben to writhe and cry and beg for mercy.

"Spread 'em boy!" Reece then panted in a fury of lust for what was next. Ben did, spread his thighs as wide as he could, the cool air hitting his anus. It felt good, but not for long. Reece raised the tawse and slammed a half strength cut right over Ben's butthole.

Outside the office even with the production line in full run with plenty of noise to drown out a jet airplane flying through the terribly high ceilinged room, the workers could hear Ben's high-pitched scream. They could only look at each other, smile, giggle or some even looked sad but resigned.

"How about another, huh Ben? Had enough?" Reece teased the man with a purpose.

"NO SIR! PLEASE NO!" he begged.

"Oh come on Ben, be a sport, one more and I'll give you what you really want!" Reece taunted him.

Ben shook, he sobbed and finally, he had to give in, he had no choice, it was too late for him.

"Yes, please sir, another," he said quietly.

"Beg for it louder!!" Reece yelled.

"PLEASE MR. CONNAUGHT! ONE MORE, HARD, PLEASE, I HAVE TO HAVE IT!" Ben screamed, Reece sneered, "By all means my boy" raised the tawse and plastered Ben's butthole again, even harder.

Ben's scream reached the ears of his workers once again but inured, they ignored it. It was just another day at Kobalt Industries to them. Reece did not then hesitate and pulled out his erection, but just before he raped the supervisor, he made sure. He looked down at Ben's dick and the desk side in front of it. Sure enough, Ben's cum was dripping down the wood in great quantity.

"Slut bitch. God I hate you!" Reece taunted once again and then drove his dick in HARD and to the hilt. But it was no use, Ben no longer screamed upon the ruthless entrance to his backdoor. Reece had butt-fucked him so many times that by now he was used to the lewd assaults.

Nonetheless, Reece satisfied his teen urges and emptied his big balls inside of Ben Thatcher and then quickly pulled out,

"GET back to work you useless prick!" he yelled and Ben nearly tripped and narrowly missed hitting his head on the corner of the desk getting dressed to waddle out back to the line and to a life of faceless anonymity and a future of well, nothing.

A few days later inside the passenger cabin of a sleek new Kobalt Industries owned G12 Gulfstream jet …

"I see Plant #10 is back up to speed, nice job son," in the midst of dining on an in-flight four course meal served by the steward while he looked at the latest production numbers.

"Thanks Dad, I took care of a problem or two, it was a piece of cake," he smirked as he was at the end of his in-flight meal, dining on a piece of Tiramasu cake, his favorite as he looked up to a vid-screen showing a favorite video of an all boy's ballet troupe doing a classic choreographed number.

"God you gotta love the asses on those guys! Hubba-hubba!!" to whit Price barely squelched snorting a mouthful of $500.00 per bottle red wine through his nostrils and onto the thick white animal fir rug beneath his bare feet.

"Gotcha!" Reece winked at his Dad who simply rolled his eyes.

* * * * * * * * * *

Twenty-four hours later in the viewing room aside Avery Wentworth's office at Foster Enterprises, twin spot lights bearing down on Niner and Zero, Reece Connaught slowly walking around their naked bodies, a table filled with punishment implements and clothing of various kinds …

Price Connaught stood by his now good friend Avery Wentworth as Reece slowly circled the perfectly groomed slave-boys. It was still not too late to change their minds about the contractual purchase. Tommy and Paul stood upright, but not too stiffly carefully angling their buttocks out for the potential customer.

Reece stopped and for the tenth time spanked all four buttock-cheeks, "Not nearly as nice as those ballet dancers, got any of those on the block?" Reece looked up at the two men standing by. Avery Wentworth was not intimidated, it was an old ploy by yet another customer meant to lower the price of the otherwise highly valued twin A+ achievements.

Tommy felt the sting once again helping to keep his cock high and hard as the somewhat younger rich boy and potential Master dressed in a black suede jacket, black shirt and black tie circled him and Paul. Paul was also fully aroused but also very nervous. It was still no sure thing that the boy and his father would take the both of them.

"Kiss, like you mean it. You're both straight, right?" Reece asked, arms folded.

"Yes Master Reece," they answered properly one after another.

"Do it!" he barked and they turned into an embrace and let their lips slowly touch and then press and then eyes closed they opened their mouths. Reece felt his cock aroused even more.

"I don't know. I've seen better. Shit, my Dad can kiss a guy better than that!" and he glanced at Price who now smirked at his aggressive son but said nothing.

"Here, back off … what's your name again?" he looked at Paul.

"Paul, Master Reece," Paul replied and stepped back. Reece then stood face to face with the older boy, but about his own height, "Like this!" Reece said and then leaned in to taste the product. Tommy was shaking a little. It was much harder to kiss somebody so intimidating compared to Paul. The boy's taste came into his own mouth and then his tongue invaded, kind of roughly.

Reece put his hands aside Tommy's head and went for more of it. It was crude, Reece knew but that was on purpose to test Tommy's resolve. Tommy concentrated and tried his best to reassure the customer. Reece finally broke the kiss and wiped his mouth,

"You must be straight, you kiss like a baboon" Reece shook his head and then turned to look at Paul,

"Sure you don't want to test drive this one Dad?" Reece cheekily asked.

"No, that's fine son, I'll take your word," Price rolled his eyes. Reece walked up to Paul, "Kiss me, make me a believer boy!" and Paul did his best by not trying so hard.

"Hmmm, you'll do, but your buddy over there? He's shit." Reece ployed and that made Paul very nervous.

"Please Master Reece, I can teach him to do it better," Paul said taking the bait.

"Oh is that right? And how, pray tell might you do that?" Reece smirked.

"He's … that is … we're used to corporal punishment for motivation sir. A good hard whipping will help a lot," Paul pulled out the Ace in the hole for this particular customer.

Reece was onto that one in a heart-beat,

"Really. Do tell. You know … sometimes what a boy likes for himself is indeed a good hard whipping. Take me for instance. Sometimes my Dad has to spank me. Turns me on when he does it. Say, would either of you like to have a go at my ass? It's a nice ass you know, though not as nice as say a ballet dancer's ass."

Tommy could relax a little. This kid was pretty clever and no dumb ass and believe me, Tommy had seen some of the worst potential customers in the past few weeks, rich men and boys that should be horse-whipped for their ridiculously obvious and boring comments and stupid tests of "the genuine article."

"Yes Master Reece. It would be my pleasure to give you a good bare bottom spanking, say with that cane over there on the table!" Tommy said confidently.

Reece walked up to him eye to eye, "You know if you were my slave and you said that to me, I could beat you to within an inch of your life!"

Tommy didn't flinch, "Yes, Master Reece, you could or you could just enjoy my talents for giving my Master just the right kind of corporal punishment to drive him wild with lust."

Reece's eyes flashed with an mixture of admiration and disgust. Wordlessly he walked to the table grabbed up the cane, flicked it to Tommy who caught it and then Reece swept the table of everything else cleanly and then hiked down his slacks and underwear and bent forward across the table and stayed still, eyes closed.

Father Price looked with admiration at his son's unabashed versatility. Like father, like son. Tommy did not hesitate and walked to the boy's side, tapped the cane on the kid's very attractive backside,

"Six of the best Master Reece," drew back and placed six perfect painful cuts across Reece's buttocks.

Reece hissed and winced and otherwise enjoyed each strike pretending Tommy was an old fashioned English public school prefect and not one of those whimpy religious faker "Brothers" at his school, St. Beaumont. Reece popped up and held his hand out, "Your turn boy," he said and Tommy quickly put the cane into Reece's palm and himself into place.

Reece did not exactly know how to use the damn thing, the first strike was crap and he knew it. He stopped, "Get up," Reece said and Tommy did, terribly worried that he had done something wrongly. Reece handed Tommy the cane and glancing at his father, looked back at Tommy,

"I suppose you could teach me how to use that thing properly?" He said looking down at Tommy's erection, his own tenting his trousers.

"Yes Master Reece, it would be my duty and honor," Tommy said.

"Cut the crap. You'd enjoy it, wouldn't you," Reece said flatly.

"Fuck yes, Master Reece," Tommy said curtly.

"Lip, worthy of a good hard whipping over my knee," Reece said stepping forward and grabbed Tommy's balls into his fist and squeezed. Tommy winced but didn't back down,

"Yes Master Reece, a very HARD whipping," and Reece let go and looked at Paul,

"I suppose I have to take him in the bargain?"

"Yes, Master Reece. He's very talented and loves to be spanked, hard, as well as sucks cock like a whore."

Reece nodded, "Sure you don't want to try one out Dad?" looking back.

"No Reece, that's fine. I'm happy with either."

"I'm not. Tommy is my bitch and you better not let up one second when you're with me boy or you'll be sorry, got it?"

"Got it, Master Reece," Tommy said with just a little attitude.

* * * * * * * * * *

At forty-five thousand feet above ground level, 500 knots, about 2 hours later …

"Dad, he's not breakable. Do something!" Reece playfully chided his father who just let Paul, his new slave-boy just sit by his side still dressed smartly in his new (and expensive) casual boyish clothes as Price had ordered.

Reece sat by his new Master dressed in sporty clothes, more like a jock, in fact just like that both of them looking at the vid-screen at that same ballet video that Reece liked,

"Gotta love those butts, right Tommy?" Reece asked. Tommy looked at the boys in tights. They didn't do anything particular for him,

"I'll bet you'd love to spank one of those guys, right Master Reece?"

Reece looked at Tommy, "That's not what I asked smart ass."

Tommy knew better than to lie to his new Master or fake anything so that his answer now seemed disingenuous , "They are not something that turns me on Master Reece."

"We gotta do something about this 'Master Reece' crap all the time. Look, when we're alone or just with Dad over there it's just Reece, OK? But don't make any mistakes with that in public, got it butt-face?"

"Yes Reece, butt-face has got it," and that made Paul giggle for the first time.

"Think that is funny young man?" Price asked the fifteen-year-old.

"Yes, a little Sir," Paul answered in the manner that Mr. Connaught preferred.

Price was terribly self-conscious at this point. He had never opened up about his liking boys, especially boys his own son's age. The whole thing was more than a bit unnerving and he promised Reece to sink him in the ocean with cement boots if he breathed a word of it to anyone save a very private and small circle of trusted ears.

Price reached out for the first time and ruffled Paul's hair. Paul found the man to be utterly fascinating. Who knew that a man in his early 40's could seem so … so sexy to him. That would have been utterly impossible just months before. Was it the money he had? The power that he wielded, almost over life and death itself or a combination of it all? He knew it was at least in part possible because Tommy was there with him, that much was certain.

Reece looked at Tommy, "Well, well, we have a comedian in our midst. Don't quit your day job Tommy"

"But I like my day job," Tommy replied, "Are you going to punish me Reece?"

"Yes, after I decide what to do to you," Reece said looking back up at the vid screen casually.

"Do you like to spank bare boy bottoms Sir?" Paul asked Price who now after all these years of having to suppress hidden urges when he spanked his own son, could answer honestly and was about to.

"Of course he does, he's been spanking me for years hiding a stiffy in his pants," Reece very carelessly replied still looking at the vid screen.

Paul looked up at Price whose face suddenly frowned. Paul felt a little sick to his stomach,

"Reece, that was uncalled for," And sat back stiffly in the plush aircraft seat. Reece sighed and turned to look at his old man, "Oh, sorry Dad," Reece said trying desperately to sound like it didn't matter when he knew he had just fucked up. His tone only made things worse,

"Sorry? Tommy?"

"Yes Mr. Connaught?" Tommy obeyed his real owner.

"After we land and shuttle to our cabana at the hotel. I want you to take my son aside and give him a whipping, I mean a serious ass tanning. I don't care if he doesn't walk for a week. I will be inspecting your job after you do your duty and it better be good or I will turn your ass into hamburger. Am I understood?"

Reece's eyes got wide. Suddenly, owning a slave-boy was not such a great idea. Ooops!

"Yes Mr. Connaught, I will do as you ask," Tommy nervously responded afraid now to look Reece in the eye, unsure of reprisals.

Reece shut the video off and sat in his aircraft seat looking straight ahead into space not at all liking the rare and public humiliation and this on this first day with Tommy, his fucking birthday present! The best he could now do to "punish" them all was to say nothing and talk to nobody and that is what he did.

"Now, what should I do with you, Paul?" Price went own as if nothing had changed.

Paul smiled and whispered in his ear, "I sure would like to be naked in your lap sir," and Price shivered with delight. This might be just what the lonely man had been looking for all this time and hadn't known it!

Tommy was really challenged now. His duty was to obey Price Connaught at any cost, but this cost was very close to too much. Reese didn't look pissed so much as determined, but about what? Revenge?

* * * * * * * * * *

Tommy and Paul had never even imagined such opulence. Hell, they had never even seen a major ocean, the white sands, the beautiful people. It seemed vulgar and paradise at the same time and it was hard not to gawk but they had work to do transferring luggage in the thick humidity and taking care of their owners the Connaughts, Mister and son.

At every small progress toward the large cabana it seemed that they had to stop and wait for men and boys to talk to the popular pair as if they were all close friends as Tommy and Paul stood by patiently, but finally the four of them made it to the spacious accommodations.

"Paul, let's get you into a nice red Speedo and take a swim!" Price grinned at Paul. Paul nodded, "Yes SIR!" and Paul stripped off naked. Price allowed his eyes to wander on the naked boy's bottom and sparsely populated pubes and his cock swelled in his bathing suit.

Tommy and Reece watched the pair bound off.

"Dad really seems to like him," Reece said subdued, the first words he had said to Tommy for several hours.

"Paul is quite the charmer. He has come a long way, but so have I," Tommy replied.

"Oh yea, I almost forgot. It's hard to remember who you really are when my Dad has ordered you to beat the living shit out of his son."

Tommy took a chance, "You'd rather he do it?" referring to Price.

"Oh, so now you're a genius too?" Reece said caustically, Tommy having touched a very tender nerve.

Tommy now felt the stress of the reality of being a real slave that Mr. Wentworth had warned him of. He closed his eyes and stuck to his training,

"No Reece. I'm just a boy who happens to have a job that he loves."

"And why is that? Mommy is sick and near to dying and my Dad's money has bailed dear mumsy out?"

Tommy's mind went blank and all he could see was his mom, in a hospital bed with an I.V. with drugs that made her nauseated and lose her hair. Cancer treatment was hard and very, very expensive and yes, only the Connaught fortune could possibly give her a chance at longer life.

"I understand Reece, but I can't let you talk that way about my mother no matter you're my owner's son and I'm your slave. I'm going to find Mr. Connaught and ask him to the beat the living hell out of me because I can't  … " and Tommy got very emotional but strode purposely from the cabana sure that his life was about to become not a lot better than when he and Paul had been thrown to the wolves in the awful punishment cells in early training seemingly long before.

Tommy strode out of the door and onto the plush white sand in his bare feet, the going getting tougher but soon heard the pounding of faster feet and then Reece was in front of him, blocking his path,

"Stop!" Reece said. Tommy went to go around him, "Please stop Tommy!" Reece said a bit differently. He did.

"That … that was uncalled for, crude and … offensive," Reece said not looking at Tommy's eyes because at that moment he recalled his own bitterness over how his Dad had "eliminated" his own mother from his life. Tommy finally could let go of it and saw the rich boy in just a little different light,

"I get, kind of overly sensitive. I apologize Reece, maybe … after I carry out your father's wishes, you'll take me in hand and teach me a very painful lesson over your knee? Or I can teach you how to use that cane, eight of the best?"

"I thought it was six of the best," Reece said trying not to sound to interested.

"I was taught that they have whatever number of the best they like over there."

"Who's the slave here anyway?" Reece said and started to walk back to the cabana.

Tommy smiled and just followed and after they reached the cabana, he got Reece a refreshment and offered him a chair at the table and then went about to prepare the punishment instruments as he had been taught while Reece sipped away at the tropical drink.

Reece watched Tommy and for a moment, he felt this strange elation at the fact that his slave-boy was willing to stand up for himself, not at all how he pictured a slave, some wimpy dude that was as uninteresting as a wet noodle. And, he was a virgin, something they had not yet discussed.

"There, all ready Reece," Tommy said and waited. Reece finished his delicious drink, stood and went over to the table. He looked at the array but settled on the cane. He picked it up,

"This one. Twelve across my bare rear, only, I want you to treat me like a naughty school boy and you're my prefect at one of those … you know, schools in England, do you know about that stuff?"

"Yes I do," Tommy nodded, quite pleased to turn things into a fantasy, "OK boy, strip naked. You are going to get a damn good thrashing. Sex with other boys is an abomination and now you shall pay the price!" Tommy launched into his best imitation of a video they had watched during training.

Reece squelched a grin, "Must I sir?"

"Strip boy before I turn twelve into eighteen!" and Reece's eyes got big. He knew that his Dad needed to see a very well punished bottom and looked at the table.

"Use that strap thingy after the cuts and it's a deal!"

"Very well," Tommy nodded and Reece stripped naked and got into position, his cock hard, but not for long. Tommy lined Reece up and commenced the punishment …

* * * * * * * * * *

The beach in front of the cabana was guaranteed private to the cabana's occupants for a good three hundred feet on either side. Paul raced up and down the beach as Price tried to chase the quick in-shape boy, "You just wait until I catch you!" Price laughed.

Paul playfully turned and stuck his tongue out at Price and ran into a thick grove of cocoanut trees and reedy bushes that had a fancy botanical name that nobody could ever remember. Price followed him deeply into the thicket and finally found the boy, naked, his cock hard and waggling.

"You are a naughty scamp!" Price said with a leering look and then divested himself of clothing revealing his hard cock to the boy for the first time.

Paul then pulled out from behind his back a small collection of the reeds that had easily given up their root, "Look Mr. Connaght, switches for a bad boy like me, will you give me a good whipping first?"

"First?" Price said shaking with great excitement.

"Before you make me suck your cock or … I am still a virgin if you want to rape me right here!" Paul said.

The word "rape" hit Price's ears and should have sounded great, if not wonderful. Had he not "raped" the world of money, legally and sometimes not so legally? Had he not wanted to rape some women, in his own mind and yes, boys in his most secret dreams. They why did he now frown at its use by this still strange boy who really did want him to do it?

Price walked up to Paul and squatted down just a little as he was quite a tall man, "Paul, I don't ever want you to use that word again when we are alone," and even gently put his arm around Paul's slender shoulders.

"I am sorry sir, I have displeased you, I should be punished," Paul said sincerely, head down. Price gently lifted Paul's face and a pang of great guilt crossed his mind. He could not recall a single time that he had ever responded so gently to his own son as many times as he had lectured, chastised and punished him.

"No, it was not your fault. You were just doing your job. Of course I want to … take your cherry Paul, but not here, not now. But you will suck my cock after I use these wonderful reeds to punish my bad boy!"

Paul smiled, "Oh yes sir!" and all felt good again. Paul then leaned up against a tall palm cocoanut trunk and stuck his bare rear out. Price pulled on his cock indeed leering at the boy's tight pucker, savoring its sight like a very expensive rare wine and indeed it was. Would it hurt to taste of it first? No, of course not!

So before he set to switching the hot boy ass, he bent over and started to lick and taste of young boy flesh for the first time ever. Paul moaned, "Oh sir! Oh sir! Oh God, I don't know how much longer I want to stay a virgin!"

Price grinned and stood, "In good time my boy, in good time!" and then set to switching the boy's tender fleshy cheeks with the native rods!

* * * * * * * * * *

What had started out as a fantasy between Reece and Tommy had quickly degenerated into Price Connaught's intended severe punishment. Eighteen strokes of the senior thick cane was a lot for an experienced boy or man much less a boy with Reece's inexperience. He was sobbing and outright yelling by the end but Tommy had to persist.

By the last cut, Tommy was sweating, worried that it had been too much, "It's enough," Tommy said hopefully. Reece, panting for breath from pain alone reached back and felt his ass, "No, it's not. I know my Dad, he needs … I need more,"

"More?" Tommy worried,

"ARE YOU DEAF?" Reece yelled and getting stiffly up reached for the strap on the table and gave it to Tommy his face a mess of snot and tears, "DO IT!"

Reece went back down, Tommy stood and for the first time hated Mr. Connaught, but he swung the strap again and again trying his best to welt up as much as he could using the least number of strokes while Reece simply screamed and finally yelled, "STOP STOP I CANT DO MORE!" and Tommy stopped, soaked in a flop-sweat.

Reece sobbed repeated lightly hitting his forehead on the table for a short while waiting for the searing pain to subside. Tommy tried to help him up but Reece swatted his hands away and he slowly made it to standing. He stood a moment and looked down at his limp dick, "Coward!!" and then looked at Tommy who tried to stay solemn but had to smile at the comment.

"It's OK, man, you beat the shit outta me. Good job. We need to find Dad," Reece said nearly emotion free.

"Yes Reece," Tommy said and followed a very slowly waddling naked boy outdoors, Reeces' hands holding his ravaged rump.

If sucking all of the juices out of slave-boy Paul's dick was not enough of a delight, having him suck his balls to empty was a paradise from heaven. Price ruffled the boy's hair and they walked naked out of the thicket and onto the shaded white sands back towards the cabana before deciding to detour to the sun-drenched surf to rinse off and splash in the warm tropical waters.

Tommy and Reece stopped short of approaching the splashing pair from a short distance. Reece saw his naked dad dancing in the water playing with Paul.

"I've never seen him do that," Reece said a little sadly. Tommy's brow furrowed. Maybe it had not been a good idea to pair up Paul with Mr. Connaught. It seemed that old hurts were being inflamed.

"Reece, maybe … "

"Save it! I got it, OK?" Reese said curtly and Tommy sighed and followed on.

Price saw the pair coming and now aware of his nakedness with his son approaching felt a bit self-conscious, but not from the nudity alone.

"Good enough father?" Reece said as a matter-of-factly showing his dad his beaten bottom cheeks.

"Very good job Tommy, Reece," Price said a bit coolly hardly masking his in-confidence as the surf splashed onto their bare feet at the tide line.

"Great. Come on Tommy, you and I have business back at the hut," Reece replied, just as coolly, like father, like son.

"Wait .. son .. "Price said at the last moment.

Reece turned, "Father … he's my slave. He just beat the holy shit out of me and you approved. May I please have some FUN time alone with him? He is my birthday present after all!"

Price nodded, "Yes, sure … you're right, have fun Reece," Price said for once not demanding his way.

Price stood there a long moment, then looked at Paul who respectfully was looking down at his feet. Price smiled, "Come boy. I want a nice massage with that tanning oil on the beach towel, you know how to give a good massage, don't you?"

"Oh, yes sir Mr. Connaught!" Paul said brightly but far from ignorant, didn't like the exchange between father and son and followed him back to the shade.

Reece was no longer in the mood to have "fun," and walking into the cabana's interior took a bee-line for the large glassed in shower, "Get your ass in there and clean me up boy, you DO know how to take care of a guy's body, don't you?"

"Yes Reece," Tommy answered and stripping off naked followed his Master into the capacious space already feeling the hot running water from one of the three large shower heads.

Without saying anything, Tommy immediately gathered up a large handful of soft soap from the dispenser and started to palm wash Reece Connaught being very careful of his punished ass cheeks. Reece's dick got immediately hard and he noticed Tommy's did not.

"Some A+ slave you are. Can't even get hard doing the right stuff with your owner, dick-head." Reece quietly sneered.

"Yes, Reece," Tommy answered respectfully without apologizing.

"Yes what, yes you are a dick-head or yes you're not worth the money my Dad paid," Reece added to his taunt.

"Yes I am a dick-head and yes I am not worthy of your father's value in me," Tommy said feeling inadequate for the first time in hours.

"Suck my dick! I ought to just put you into a production line and let the fucking supervisors fuck your lousy virgin ass."

Tommy had no idea what Reece was talking about but nodded as he was now on his knees, his hands and mouth ready to service his Master, "Yes Reece."

"Yes Reece!" Reece mocked the boy and then pushed him roughly away and flat on his back as the shower continued to run.

Tommy looked up, kind of afraid kind of sad as Reece started to masturbate himself, eyes closed. Tommy waited and then Reece's balls started to boil up, "Fuckin' jerk, you don't deserve to suck my cock, open your fucking mouth!" and then he growled and a stream of cum shot out, Reece making a game of trying to get as much of his cum into his slave-boy's mouth as he could.

Tommy did manage to get a pretty good hard-on during the odd process. Reece looked down at him, "You idiot, you're supposed to get hard BEFORE I cum! What a loser!" Reece said and left the shower room.

* * * * * * * * * *

Paul and Tommy had few moments to themselves for the rest of the day and into the sultry tropical evening. They accompanied their Masters to a very fancy restaurant where they stood by at the side of the table dressed in matching subdued sports clothing to signal their station in life. They had been fed earlier in their cabana.

Once again, wealthy boys and men, girls and women dropped by and made light conversation with the Connaughts as Tommy and Paul politely watched. A few of the younger ones stared at them. One of the boys winked and made a lewd gesture towards Tommy. Reece caught it and said aloud,

"Don't bother, he's not worth shit," which gained him an elbow of disapproval from his father. Reece did not repeat the gesture. His ass was still plenty sore even sitting on the plush booth cushions.

Finally though they had been excused to go to the bathroom and took advantage of the relative privacy,

"What's up with Reece? He looks pissed all the damn time!" Paul whispered to Tommy.

"Don't take this personally Paul, but he's so jealous of you now. He wants his Dad's attention and you're in the way."

"It's not my fault!!" Paul panicked as they emptied their bladders in the side-by-side urinals.

"I know, but he and his Dad are not on the same boat, I'll bet for years. Reece is hurting inside, badly."

"So he takes it out on you?" Paul asked.

"Don't be ridiculous. He can do whatever he likes. We may have to think of a way to get them together or it may cause a lot of trouble."

"Oh sure, we're the knights in white shining armor?" and the voice said, "Get your ass back to the table Paulie dearest. Daddy-dearest misses his little boy!" Reece sneered startling them both. Paul got the hell out of there. "You! Dick-head, get your ass into that stall, now!" Reece commanded Tommy. Tommy went inside the cramped space and Tommy crowded in, "Suck my dick, suck it good or I swear I'll flush your ass down the toilet!" and pulled out his erection.

Tommy bent over and started to suck when all of a sudden, a stream of urine filled his mouth. Tommy coughed and sputtered into the bowl and Reece started to laugh, "Gotcha, sucker. God you're an idiot!" Reece said, pushed Tommy to the side and finished urinating, "Flush the damn thing and get back to the table," Reece sneered and left the cubicle.

Tommy quickly made sure he looked good and went back to the table all the while feeling down. This was not what he had envisioned, but training had taught him to never give up on any situation. He tried to put himself into Reece's place but all he could come up with was the fact that he too was fatherless, but in an entirely different way. It helped a little to empathize and when you just have a little, you go with it.

* * * * * * * * * *

It was now the wee morning hours of the next day. Reece looked up from having napped on the couch and looked to his left. There was Paul in loose boxers that his Master had given him, asleep on Mr. Connaught's bare hairy chest also asleep both of them looking contented. Reece's emotions were not what he wanted anyone to know just then. Tommy's eyes popped open. He looked at Reece, then at Paul and Mr. Connaught.

Reece's face drew into a sneer, he got up and muttered, "Fuckin' asshole," and raced from the cabana into the blackness of the moonless tropical night. Tommy tore after him, "Wait! Reece!" he called out running as fast as he could down the beach and towards a thicket of tall palms and part-way inside before he stopped, tears running down his face,

"IT'S NOT SUPPOSED TO FEEL LIKE THIS!" Reece screamed just as Tommy arrived and stood there feeling helpless.

"What are you FUCKING LOOKING AT?" Reece screamed at Tommy and pushed him up against one of the palm's slender hard trunks.

Tommy could not think of anything to say, so said nothing.

"I SAID! WHAT ARE YOU FUCKING LOOKING AT!?" and pushed at Tommy exceptionally hard and then Reece watched horrified as Tommy Sims fell limply down into the sand at the base of the tree in an unconscious heap, a rush of blood starting to stain the pristine white crystals from the gaping wound.

To Be Continued …


© Copyright PJ Franklin February 28, 2012

Your comments are appreciated.  pjfranklinboy2@earthlink.net

See more of my stories at:  Nifty's Prolific Net Authors
and on my web site:  http://www.asstr.org/~pjfranklin/

Next: Chapter 3


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