[Grins and parts Tarrant's buttocks with one hand, pushing the end of the crop against him.] That's right. I'll teach you to be a real man. [Reaches under and pulls on Tarrant's balls to distract him as he shoves the first half-inch of crop inside Tarrant's arse.] That's what you need, isn't it?
[The pain in his arse has turned to sweet pleasure, and Avon's tug at his balls brings more sweet pain. Tarrant's nipples are erect, needing, his whole body quivering with anticipation.]
[Avon pauses, decides the honest desperation in the 'sir' makes it as good as a forced 'master', and pushes the well-greased crop in a few more inches, then back out again, rocking it slightly.] You will not come until I'm in you, Rightenant. That is an order. [Pushes the crop in halfway, and lets go, leaving it sticking out of Tarrant as he moves back in front of the kneeling man.] Acknowledge my order!
[Pulls the crop back out and lays it on the bunk, goes over to his chair, sits down and begins stroking his cock.] That was another mistake. *very, very softly, a dangerous edge to his voice*. [Shuts his eyes, throws his head back and moans as he works himself with both hands.] I don't need you, boy... I don't need anyone.
[Considers] Well, now, it's true that the service expects me to make the best use of the material I am given. [Gets up and walks over to Tarrant and sighs.] They hand me spoilt puppies and demand war-dogs in return. It's a difficult job. [Picks up Tarrant and puts him on the bed with an ease that reveals more strength than one would guess from looking at him. Pulls Tarrant's boots off, and strips off the trousers. Contemplates the pale arse and the way Tarrant opens himself to Avon's touch.] Good boy... [Pulls the jacket off Tarrant's arms, and then the shirt, releasing him from all restraint and pushing him back to hands and knees.] Here is the reward for surviving your first lesson. [Gets on the bunk, and mounts Tarrant, shoving himself to the hilt in one thrust.]
[Stops in mid-thrust, panting.] This is... discipline...could you... stop if you were me? [Soothes his hands over Tarrant's quivering buttocks, picks up the leather conditioner, and waits until Tarrant's frantic gasps slow, eases himself back out, coats his cock with the thick grease, and slowly rocks back and forth, fractionally deeper each time.] Do you understand... why I am master?
[Laughs and pulls out entirely.] All right then, you shall have your reward. On your back. [Picks up the crop and runs his hands over the trailing lashes.] Legs up, and around my waist. [Lays the rolled up bundle of Tarrant's clothes and boots under the small of Tarrant's back, making it easier for him to obey.] I want you never to forget the face of your first true master.
[Tarrant smiles a beauteous, truly submissive smile, delight at having found his true Master.]
[He doesn't think he *could* ever forget Avon's face, so beautiful with lust, the fine lips rose-red. And how commanding Avon looks, still fully dressed, his cock glistening beautifully. Tarrant spreads his legs compliantly, around Avon's waist. Tarrant's cock is weeping, tapping at his quivering belly.]
Yes. [Avon looks down at Tarrant and smiles, reaching a hand down to stroke the side of Tarrant's face.] You really are quite a beautiful boy. [Moves forward, positions himself as Tarrant's legs tighten around his waist and thrusts himself back into the warmth that eagerly accepts him. Brings the crop down as his pushes in, striking across Tarrant's taut nipples.] Beautiful! [as Tarrant cries out and his eyelashes momentarily shutter over the blue eyes, bright with tears.]
You truly... ah! [gasps as the lash hits him hard across the chest again, leaving delicious welts]
are... Master... [another cry as Avon thrusts as deep as Tarrant can take him, deeper than any man before.]
My true... true Master!
[Arches back, but keeps his hands on the pillows obediently.]
Oh... Master... please...[Trembling, with his last willpower he forces out words:] HARDER!
Please... strike me, fuck me, make me come oh fuck please, let me drink your come, fuck, Master, want your come... [without Avon's permission, Tarrant's hands wander to his raw nipples and twist hard--Avon isn't stimulating him enough, fuck, when did he become such a slut?]
[Has stopped talking to concentrate on thrusting and slashing at Tarrant's belly and chest, the lash hitting nearly at random now as he rides harder and harder, back muscles and buttocks clenching with the force he puts into it. Red marks stripe Tarrant from shoulder to thigh, and on one final deep thrust, Avon reaches for Tarrant's balls, fingers clawed as if to castrate, and while looking into the horror-stricken eyes below him, gently brushes Tarrant's balls with his fingertips as Avon grinds against Tarrant's bruised arse and pours his semen into his slave.]
[Tears are streaking Tarrant's face. Unless Avon can get it up a second time, there's no come for him to drink his fill from... none on his chest to balm the welts; now aflame with just sorrow instead of passion.]
I have failed you, Master.
[Tarrant closes his eyes, unable to keep tears escaping. He tries to curl into a ball and tries very, very hard not to sob.]
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[The pain in his arse has turned to sweet pleasure, and Avon's tug at his balls brings more sweet pain. Tarrant's nipples are erect, needing, his whole body quivering with anticipation.]
Fuck me, Sir, fuck me hard with it.
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Yes... Sir.
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I'm sorry, Master.
[Tarrant shuffles to the bed, his trousers hampering his movement, and lays his head on the side of the bed.]
Please, Master. I have insulted you.
[Closes his eyes. There's a true pleading in his voice.]
I deserve punishment, Master. Only that can make me... a man, like you, strong...
[Tries to get on the bed but doesn't manage it by himself.]
Master?
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[Avon thrusts in more slowly.]
Please... deeper. I want you deeper in me, Master.
[Tarrant begins to turn over, gazing hungrily at the crop, his nipples burning when he looks at it...]
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[He doesn't think he *could* ever forget Avon's face, so beautiful with lust, the fine lips rose-red. And how commanding Avon looks, still fully dressed, his cock glistening beautifully. Tarrant spreads his legs compliantly, around Avon's waist. Tarrant's cock is weeping, tapping at his quivering belly.]
Like this?
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You truly... ah! [gasps as the lash hits him hard across the chest again, leaving delicious welts]
are... Master... [another cry as Avon thrusts as deep as Tarrant can take him, deeper than any man before.]
My true... true Master!
[Arches back, but keeps his hands on the pillows obediently.]
Oh... Master... please...[Trembling, with his last willpower he forces out words:] HARDER!
Please... strike me, fuck me, make me come oh fuck please, let me drink your come, fuck, Master, want your come... [without Avon's permission, Tarrant's hands wander to his raw nipples and twist hard--Avon isn't stimulating him enough, fuck, when did he become such a slut?]
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I have failed you, Master.
[Tarrant closes his eyes, unable to keep tears escaping. He tries to curl into a ball and tries very, very hard not to sob.]
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