But that summer, Roberto began to drop weight. While there was nothing immediately pressing, both he and Lamont knew that it was a symptom of worse times to come. Lamont often found Roberto sitting in the kitchen talking quietly with Pedro in Spanish. On Sundays, Roberto would have Pedro drive him to early Mass, preferring the small dilapidated church founded nearly three centuries earlier by Spanish missionaries over the modernized cathedral in the better part of the city. Martha came to the house, and was introduced to Joshua, and they spent many hours in private, going over Roberto’s medical records. Joshua was now more present in Lamont’s life, as he watched the slave prepare medications and serve Roberto when the man was too tired to leave their bed.
In early autumn, Roberto decided to visit the family estates in Ocotlan, outside Guadalajara. “I want to see it again while I can still walk on my own,” Roberto told Lamont.
“Do you want me to come with you?” Lamont had visited Roberto’s home about seven years ago, and his memory was of unbearable humidity and an inability to communicate with anyone other than the simple phrases of Spanish he pulled from his Frommers Guide. Some of his discomfort must have shown on his face, because Roberto chuckled and kissed him.
“No, but I will take Pedro. After all, it is his home, too.” Roberto smiled. “I’m sure Joshua can take care of you while I’m gone. I’ve told him that he is to obey you in all things during my absence.”
It was after lunch on their first day alone that Lamont called Joshua to join him in the workout room.
“Present,” Lamont ordered as soon as the slave appeared. Immediately, Joshua sank to his knees, keeping his legs spread and his fingers clasped behind his neck. Lamont silently moved behind the slave. He was so beautiful, Lamont admitted. He reached out to caress the slave’s head, then trailed his hand down the back, admiring the light golden fuzz across the man’s shoulders. Lamont returned to stand in front of the slave, and unbuttoned his pants. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a condom, and carefully rolled it onto his long, hard dick. “Suck this,” he said, and immediately Joshua leaned forward, keeping his hands locked behind his neck, to pull Lamont into his mouth.
Lamont felt the slave’s mouth close on the head of his cock, and a tongue began to rub itself across his piss slit. His eyes closed as he reached down to curl his fingers in the slave’s hair, pushing his face slowly deeper, feeling his cock finally press against the back of the slave’s mouth. Joshua’s throat relaxed, and Lamont pressed himself even farther in, until the slave’s nose was brushing his jeans. Lamont pulled Joshua’s face away only a little, then pulled it back toward his body. Never letting his dick leave the back of the slave’s throat for more than a second, he started a fast and cruel stroke, punishing Joshua’s mouth with his cock.
Joshua was good, Lamont thought in a small corner of his mind, the slave had not yet gagged nor was he gasping for breath. It irritated him. He shoved the slave’s head up and down the length of his cock, smashing the man’s nose against his torso. He was rewarded with the sound of gasping, and smiled a cruel smile. “Take it, slave,” he growled as he began pumping hard into the slave’s mouth. He pulled his cock away slightly, and made Joshua just work the head, worrying it with his lips and tongue until Lamont felt the pressure building in his balls. With a groan he pushed Joshua’s face farther down on his dick, grabbing the slave’s hair and using his head like a giant, warm fist, the slave unable to resist as Lamont’s cock thrust deeply into the back of his throat. With a groan that started deep in his belly, Lamont shot into Joshua’s mouth. He held the slave’s head tight against his body, knowing that his cock would be gagging the man, and wishing that his come was jetting down the slave’s throat to fill his stomach.
That thought reminded him as to why the slave had been purchased in the first place. His warm relaxation began to heat up to anger. “You,” he whispered as he pulled his cock out of Joshua’s mouth. “How dare you try to placate me?” Even as he was speaking, he struck the slave across the face.
“Sir?” Joshua asked confusedly. “I was trying to please you, sir.”
“Please me,” Lamont sneered as he buttoned his fly. “Please me with your mouth, your body, is that what you were trying to do?” He grabbed the man by the hair and hauled him up to his feet. “You haven’t, you know,” he said, glaring at Joshua. “You have to try harder.”
“Please, sir, tell me what you wish me to do,” Joshua pleaded.
“Then follow me.” Lamont moved to a corner of the room where a large chest was sitting against the wall, and opened it. Pulling out a heavy flogger, he turned back to Josh. “Face the wall,” he hissed.
The first lashes hit Joshua’s back before the slave had even completed the order. Lamont smiled as the slave gasped, and placed his hands firmly against the wall to prepare himself for the next blow. Lamont let his arm throw the whip forward and watched in delight as the lashes landed across Joshua’s shoulders, leaving a bright pink mark that wasn’t given a chance to fade before the whip landed again. Joshua gasped, and then let his breath out hard as a blow came across his ass. Lamont heard the slave emit small noises as the flogger pounded against his flesh, and smiled. The muscles in his arms sang as they did when he was pumping weights.
Methodically, he worked the slave’s back and ass over with the flogger, his arm rising and falling, his biceps flexing as he prepared to land another barrage of blows across Joshua’s shoulders. Almost without breaking his rhythm, he reached to the box and picked up a cat-o-nine tails. The knots left hard raspberry-looking marks on Joshua’s fair flesh, and made the slave groan. Lamont sighed as he alternately flicked the whip to catch the tails against Joshua’s ass, and then used his entire arm’s force to drag the ugly knots harder into Joshua’s back. Detachedly, Lamont felt his anger drive the rhythm and pattern of the blows as he beat the slave. Joshua was beginning to tremble from the onslaught. After a particularly vicious blow from Lamont’s whip, his knees buckled, and he fell to the floor.
“Over the box, you worthless bag of shit,” Lamont growled, watching in grim delight as the slave scrabbled feebly to pull his body over the chest. Pulling off his belt, Lamont smiled cruelly. “I’m not done with you yet, boy,” he sneered as he wrapped the buckle around his hand.
“Please sir, please,” the slave cried. “Have I done something to anger you?”
“Done?” Lamont laughed, the sound empty of any merriment. “You exist.” He brought the belt down across the slave’s ass. “You came into my house,” the belt crashing down again. “You wait to use your real skills,” Lamont’s voice becoming hoarse with the effort of talking and beating. “You are a daily reminder of death,” he panted, as his belt landed again and again. He let his anger work its way out through the belt, watching the welts grow across Joshua’s ass and thighs. The noises from the slave moved from groans to howls, then to whimpers. But Joshua asked no more questions.
Finally, Lamont felt his mind calm again. He stood, and threw the belt down on the floor next to the quivering slave. “Pick this room up when you’re able to move again,” he spat out, and left to take a long, hot shower in the master bathroom. Later that evening, he was amused to watch the slave moving less gracefully than usual as he served Lamont dinner.
* * * *
The next day, Lamont called Joshua to him again. “You are afraid of me now?” Lamont murmured, making the slave move through various positions that left his body so open and vulnerable to attack. Lamont inspected the red traces of welts on the insides of the slave’s thighs, pinching one cruelly. Straightening, he struck Joshua brutally across the face. The slave gasped, but retained his position. “You belong to Roberto, but he isn’t here. Your fancy-schmancy nursing degree isn’t needed.” Lamont sneered. “I guess that just leaves your pretty face and body, doesn’t it? Not that it looks so good today,” he smirked, looking at the dark bruises that had spread over Joshua’s ass. “And it’s only going to get worse.” A shudder moved through Joshua’s body. “Good, good, you realize the implications,” said Lamont, and he struck Joshua’s face again. “Get up against the wall again.”
This time, Lamont took his time with the slave, deliberately causing as much pain as possible. First, he fastened a huge ball gag into Joshua’s mouth, forcing the slave’s jaws wide apart and causing his saliva to slowly drip from the corners of his mouth. Returning to the box, Lamont pulled out ugly alligator clips and pressed them on Joshua’s nipples, then tugging to ensure that they bit hard into the tender flesh. He pulled a handful of smaller clips out of the box, and began to attach them to the slave’s balls and cock, until they glittered with metal. He then drew a long metal chain through the clamps on the slave’s balls and pulled it up to attach to the nipple clamps. Lamont watched Joshua’s eyes fill with pain, and he felt his cock grow hard. He reached back to the chest to bring out one of his favorite handmade toys, a series of clothespins attached with thin cord. He methodically attached the clothespins to the tender flesh on the underside of Joshua’s arms. The slave groaned through the ball gag as each clip bit into his flesh, but his discomfort only spurred Lamont on. He pulled more of the objects from the chest, and began to fasten them to the inside of Joshua’s thighs. The slave was whimpering now, his eyes filling with tears.
“On your hands and knees now, slave,” Lamont ordered, pulling off his shorts as he watched Joshua painfully lower himself to the floor, knowing that the clips were pulling his skin cruelly against the movement. It was delightful. He knelt behind the slave, and pulled a condom over his rock hard dick. “Ass up, slave,” he barked, and Joshua struggled to comply. But Lamont didn’t wait, and pulled the slave’s ass closer to him admiring the lines of bruises that appeared from yesterday’s treatment, and ignoring the soft cries of pain. He pressed his cock slowly into Joshua’s pink ass, listening to the slave’s cries become groans as he was slowly filled by Lamont’s dark flesh.
“Arch your back, slave,” Lamont demanded as he began to slowly pump his cock in and out. As Joshua obeyed, he cried out involuntarily—the chain attaching his nipple clamps to the clamps around his cock and balls was tight, punishing the front of his body as Lamont began to work his ass harder.
“That’s right, it’s supposed to hurt,” Lamont said as he fucked the slave. “I want you crying by the time I’m done with you today. Arch!” Lamont felt his cock twitch in Joshua’s ass canal as the slave obeyed the painful command. This was going to be good, he decided, thrusting his cock in and out of the tight hole. He felt his balls brush against the clothespins on Joshua’s thighs, and the sensation drove him closer to the edge. Joshua was gasping, his words unintelligible behind the huge gag, but the pleading in his voice apparent. It was nearly enough for Lamont. When he felt his body burst over the top, speeding toward an orgasm, he gripped the cords on each side of Joshua’s thighs and jerked hard, ripping the clothespins off the slave’s flesh in an instant. Joshua screamed as Lamont came, his battered body shaking under Lamont’s thrusts. As if in a dream, Lamont found himself slowly reaching forward and grabbing the cords dangling from each arm of the body below him, and pulled once again. The clothespins snapped off like a gunshot, and Joshua howled. Lamont pumped his ass a few more times as the slave cried from the pain.
* * * *
The treatment continued for two more days. Lamont would wake, and watch the trembling, bruised slave serve him a late breakfast. Then he would call the slave to the workout room, devising other tortures to release his anger and frustration. He beat Joshua’s cock and balls until the slave sobbed uncontrollably. He tied Joshua to a chair and covered his face with a swim cap, watching the slave’s features appear in sharp relief against the latex in a struggle to breathe. He beat new welts over the bruises left on the first day, and poured hot wax across the marks. And with each session, Lamont felt his anger wash through him, its intensity slowly abating with each stroke of the belt, with each cry of pain from Joshua.
On the fifth day, there was a phone call from Pedro.
“Joshua!” Lamont shouted after he hung up the phone. The slave appeared immediately, despite his limping from the caning he had received on the soles of his feet only hours before. “Joshua, it’s Roberto. He’s... he’s coming home today.” Lamont touched the slave tentatively, then burst into tears. “He’s sick. Pedro says he collapsed, he has a fever,” he choked. “He’s unconscious,” Lamont wailed. He looked at a slave helplessly. “What do we do?”
* * * *
The next week was a whirlwind of activity at the house. Roberto was transferred into a hospital bed, his life signs monitored by a series of machines, IV bottles dripping into his veins. Joshua spent entire days at Roberto’s side, relieved for a few hours each morning by Pedro, who sat next to his master with a rosary laced through his fingers as he muttered quietly in Spanish. Lamont hovered like a maddened hornet, demanding to know everything that was happening, his presence so disruptive that Joshua physically removed him from the room during a visit from Martha. When she came into the living room after an hour, she found Lamont fuming.
* * * *
“Who the hell does he think he is?” He burst out. “I’m Roberto’s lover, for god’s sake. How dare he remove me?”
“Lamont, Lamont,” Martha said. “We needed to examine Roberto. You know how he values his privacy in medical matters.”
“How is he, Martha?” Lamont asked. “They don’t tell me anything, and he—he doesn’t really ever seem to wake up anymore. Martha, I—” his voice broke. The doctor sighed, and put Lamont’s hand in hers.