Amy (morgan_cian) wrote,
Amy
morgan_cian

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The Handler



Hadley was an early riser by nature, not necessarily by choice. The palace whims hardly allowed for a tight, regimented schedule and his body rebelled by waking at approximately the same time every morning. Sunlight was beginning to filter though thin curtains into his small quarters, the natural light subtly softening the plain room.

He took a moment, still sleep warm to stretch out on his new bed and ponder the night before. The Lady Margaret, his Lord’s Maggie, seemed much more shrewd than her lackadaisical husband. She located the files for him at the final meeting of the evening. She also held back from releasing them immediately.

“I want my slaves to accompany me, Mr. Hadley, they are no good to me hiding away in the hall. Mia has a talented mouth and she was sorely missed.”

Very shrewd indeed, and seemed to understand the political scheming well for such a small city like King’s Cross.

With a precise wash, and a fresh set of clothes, Hadley smoothed his hair taking particular care with his part. The knot in his tie was precise, his cuffs straightened. He ignored the clattering in the direction of the kitchen turning instead towards the locked door of the slave hall. He would observe the course of the day while reviewing Smithers’ records and begin making his own.

The girls were already awake and dressed. The pale violet of Lisbeth’s tunic was a good color for her bland features. Mia’s curls tumbled over her shoulders to draw the eye to her heavily endowed assets.

Cameron was showering, Daniel was snoring, and Cade sat on his bed with his knees tucked under his chin.

No structure and routine was jotted on a crisp sheet of paper.

The rattle of keys and the door was opened revealing the sour faced cooking pushing a trolley of covered trays. She left it just inside the doorway and turned to leave. Hadley took a quick inventory and cleared his throat.

“Where is the tankard of milk?”

The woman actually sneered at him. “No milk, they won’t get fat.” She left with the parting shot of, “There’s water in the loo.”

A detailed list of food and drink, he scratched hastily. Unhealthy slaves were useless.

The morning passed slowly for Hadley watching his charges, the way they interacted with one another, how they lolled about the slave hall. The room was just as bland as his quarters with its plain white walls and high windows allowing for very little natural light. When did they take care of their ablutions, maintain their bodies to be at the ready when summoned?

There was some equipment, old and dusty and shoved in a corner, to keep the body lean and in shape. He made another note when a female giggle had his head whipping about.

Lisbeth’s tunic was rucked up over narrow hips, legs askew, and her head all but hanging off the side of the cot, Mia between her thighs. He very nearly blanched at the thick curls of public hair mingling with Mia’s blonde ones. His note taking was much more sharp, pen tip digging, ink smearing. No, that would not do, not at all.

Bookings appeared and said Cade’s name sharply. The boy paled. He stood, naked from sleep, legs shaking. Hadley watched him impassively as he pulled a powder blue tunic from the end of his bed. Smoothing the cloth, the tunic was far shorter than Hadley expected, barely reaching mid thigh to cover the curve of the boy’s rounded ass.

Cade finger combed his hair as Cameron stepped out of the bath, toweling thick dark hair. A look passed between them and Cade seemed to stiffen his resolve, straightening his shoulders and lifting his chin. His nerves were still belied by white teeth chewing his bottom lip. Barely looking to Hadley as he followed Brookings from the hall.

Cameron waited until Hadley’s attention returned to him and lifted his own chin slightly, cocky pride. Naked and damp, the oldest slave slapped Daniel’s ass causing a grunt and muttered to Lisbeth, who giggled. Mia lifted her head and winked, licking glistening lips. Positioning, reminding Hadley was new to an established household, an established hierarchy.

Enough was enough.

“Cameron!” He barked. Wide shoulders jerked and Cameron met his gaze head on. “With me.” The slave began looking for his tunic; Hadley growled out “Leave it.” With door open, he waited until the very naked Cameron sauntered through. Keys rattled and the door’s lock clicked loudly. The small journey to his bedroom took a matter of steps, Hadley’s jaw twitched.

This little display was about power. Who had it and who did not.

“It did not take you very long,” Cameron muttered drolly. Hadley stared as the naked slave arranged himself with practiced grace on the neatly made bed. “Like this? Or would you prefer my ass in the air?”

“What I would prefer,” Hadley replied, taking a breath to steady himself. It really was not the slave’s fault, slaves were not known for knowing any better. Smithers may have had some modicum of control at one time but had become lax in the end. “Is for you to be quiet and listen.”

Cameron reclined on his elbows, displaying the ripples in his abdomen and a heavy lax cock resting against his thigh. His lips pressed together and the dark eyes gained that calculating look once more.

“That is what I thought,” Hadley stood at the end of his bed with arms crossed over his chest. “You were trained, you know what you are doing, and you need to be reminded of what you are.”

Cameron’s face darkened and it was his turn for his jaw clench. “Please, sir,” His voice was sticky sweet and false, “Remind me.”

Hadley stepped up to the bed. He was shorter than Cameron with less definition in his musculature, a natural disadvantage even with the slave lying upon his bed. He cupped Cameron’s chin, his thumb pressing into the soft point just beneath the jawline causing a quiet hiss. His advantage in the situation was that he was free and the slave was not.

“You are a hole.” Teeth clenched, Hadley could feel the movement beneath silky soft skin, and Cameron’s dark eyes blazed. “A pretty, pliant hole to be fucked at will and to behave according to your station. Within the hall,” Hadley pressed his thumb deeper; “You are their idol, taking their cue to behave slovenly and disrespectful in front of free persons, even if those persons are servants themselves.”

Leveraging his weight downward put Cameron off his elbows and flattened into the mattress. “You are a smart hole, though, are you not? You have been broken and put together again only to forget all of your training.” Hadley let his free hand trail down warm skin, soft pubic hair, a cock that had plumped, to the heavy furred balls vulnerable between muscle tense thighs. “I will break you,” He twisted the sac, pressing the testicles together, “remind you of your place,” His middle finger pressed lower to the hidden opening. Cameron’s lips parted.

Abruptly, he let go and stood over the aroused body with his arms folder across his chest once more.

“You have not been fucked for quite some time, have you? No longer favored in your master’s bed. No longer the favored pet. Probably being considered a waste of money. Ever wonder why?”

Cameron squeezed his eyes shut, lips pressed together until they whitened around the edges. “Consider yourself reminded, hole.” Hadley straightened his cuffs and smoothed a hand over his parted hair. “Come.”

Not so cocky, Hadley thought, as he walked Cameron the short path to the slave hall. When Cameron made to return to his cot, Hadley grasped his bicep. “Slaves!” He barked.

Mia and Lisbeth looked like twin gaping fish. Daniel frowned. Cade had not been returned. “Muster in the training room. Do not make me repeat myself.”

As the remaining three shuffled into the cavernous room, Hadley had Cameron strung up by the wrists bound and hung from the large, dull hook. Looking around, he found what he was looking for. Turning the crank, Cameron’s body stretched until only his toes found purchase on the tile floor.

Not so far from the caked drain in the floor, Hadley made another mental note of the possibilities of the unused training room. Cameron would not meet his gaze as he checked tension; stretch of muscle, and the way the heavy leather manacles bit into the flesh of his forearms, careful of circulation. The slave’s chin was pulled into his chest.

Turning on Mia, Lisbeth, and Daniel, he watched them silently, waiting. Daniel broke first, angrily crossing his arms over his naked chest. Mia and Lisbeth held hands standing side by side, fingers tangled and knuckles white.

“You all seem to have forgotten the use of this room,” Hadley kept his voice bland and bored. “It is my job to remind you.” Walking up and down in front of the assembled slave, his back remained to Cameron. “There will be rules, there will be discipline. There will be training as well.”

He moved around the room, fingers trailing over different implements. The cock ring and the gag were a given but he relied on his charges to give away Cameron’s secret. Canes and leather belts barely caused a rustle but Daniel sucked in a quick harsh breath when he lifted the simple wooden paddle. The surface had evenly space holes drilled into the wood.

Was it Daniel’s fear? Hadley took several practice swings. Returning to the line, he made each of them spread their legs. Lisbeth went rigid as the cool wood slid along the slit of her cunt. Mia’s hips moved forward involuntarily, looking for more friction. Daniel’s cock had hardened as Hadley caressed his sack with the flat edge.

Not Daniel’s fear, but Cameron’s, information gained and received. Hadley turned his back to the gathered slaves with the paddle tucked under his arm. He put the cock ring on Cameron; movements practiced and needed little thought.

At the gag, he paused regarding each slave once more. To muffle Cameron would show a level of empathy, giving the older slave an out to his vulnerability. Muffled shouts to lose himself in as he gave into the pain. Hadley had been a proponent of such care in the palace.

But here and now, it was not only Cameron and his new charges that needed to be reminded of their place.

His place, as well, to start as he intended, giving little ground in the beginning.

Taking two practice swings, the breeze caused Cameron to flinch, his toes scrabbling for purchase. The first blow landed evenly across the muscled buttocks. Cameron shouted. He kept the blows slow, evenly paced, careful of the lower back as Cameron fought and cried out. The paddle left welts as low as the tops of Cameron’s thighs. He did not make Cameron count, and Hadley was sure that the slave would break before his arm would tire.

And then….

“Please, oh fuck, please!” Cameron’s ragged voice was high and reedy. The point of breaking, “Please stop! I’ll be a good boy! I’ll be a good boy, please, please, please….”

The blows stopped abruptly, only Cameron’s crying and heaving breath breaking the tense quiet.

All three slaves were rigid and white. Hadley turned to find Cade standing in the open doorway with Brookings at his shoulder. The boy looked ill and ready to faint.

Brookings, however, seemed pleased.

“Return to your beds, with no talking.” Hadley bit out. He did not turn his attention to Cameron once he was alone with him, with Brookings in attendance. He stared at the crusted butler, waiting. And again, it was Brookings who broke first, turning on a heel and limping out of the slave hall. Silence could be powerful.

Hadley was careful with Cameron, lowering him slowly to his feet. Holding him about his narrow waist as he released the manacles. Cameron’s arms fell heavily around Hadley’s shoulders. His eyes were swollen, his face wet with snot and tears. “I’ll be good,” was the repeated mantra as Hadley gently placed him on the oilskin covered cot.

He made more mental notes for needed supplies as he rubbed liniment into tight shoulders, bruised heated buttocks, and thighs. He took care in cleaning Cameron’s face, wiping the evidence away gently. Hadley found a light blanket, covered Cameron from shoulder to ankle. Dragging a wooden chair, its legs scraping against the tile, he sat at Cameron’s side. The slave’s body was relaxed and his face pliant beneath swollen flesh. Slender fingers dug clumsily out from under the blanket.

Discipline and comfort.

Hadley cradled Cameron’s hand and the slave relaxed even more, endorphins bottoming out allowing him sleep.

First lesson complete.

Hadley felt exhausted as well.

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  • The Handler

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  • FYI

    I haven't disappeared, I promise. Livejournal doesn't like my ISP, but hopefully it's been fixed. I'll get to the Handler. Right now, I'm at home…

  • The Handler

    Part One| Part Two| Part Three| Part Four| Part Five| Part Six| Part Seven| Part Eight| Part Nine| Part Ten| Part Eleven| Part Twelve| Part…

  • The Handler

    Part One| Part Two| Part Three| Part Four| Part Five| Part Six| Part Seven| Part Eight| Part Nine| Part Ten| Part Eleven| Part Twelve| Part Thirteen…