Zelamir

Another Country

Chapters 8-14

Nicky knelt on the bedroom floor feeling the air cool against his bare body. With his face pressed into the carpet he could not see Mister Toby but he was very conscious of his presence, lying on the bed just a few feet away from him. He could sense his eyes looking down on his bare shoulders and raised bottom. The seconds dragged out into minutes and as the silence lengthened his confidence, fragile at the best, that somehow he had got things right drained away and was replaced by fear so intense that it gripped him by the throat forcing him to struggle for breath.

The silence lengthened and Nicky began to tremble uncontrollably.

"Come here boy."

Relief flooded Nicky's mind. Mister Toby spoke quietly and there was no anger in his voice.

"No crawl. Keep down on your hands and knees," the man snapped.

"Here," he ordered swinging his legs off the bed and pointing to the ground at his feet.

Nicky shuffled across on his hands and knees to Mister Toby. He stopped just short of the bed unsure what to do next. He found himself looking down on the man's heavy brown shoes. Instinct came to his aid and lowering his head he pressed his lips to their highly polished toes.

"Good boy Nicky. Well done."

Mister Toby's voice sounded genuinely pleased and so completely had the man established his ascendancy over Nicky that his heart swelled in pride and gratitude at these words.

The man looked down on the naked boy crouched on the ground at his feet his bare bottom wriggling in an ecstasy of juvenile devotion every sinew and nerve in his young body straining to signalled his unqualified acceptance of the man's domination.

To Toby, with his experience of managing the dusky livestock housed in the island refuge, Nicholas's submission, indicated by the boy's quivering rump and lowered head, was clear and explicit. But it was only marked a stage on a long and inevitably at times painful journey. The boy's progress had to be acknowledged but that being done the journey had to be resumed and the brat subjected to ever harsher discipline and more exacting tasks.

Once on the island he had invited a visiting friend from Europe to watch him discipline a for some minor fault a youthful inmate of the street boys' refuge. When the flogging was over and the naked boy was left semi-conscious hanging from his wrists the blood from his whip ravaged shoulders and bottom dribbling down the back of his thighs to form a swelling pool of damply glistening wetness on the floor beneath his feet, the visitor remarked that he supposed the boy had learnt his lesson and would not need a similar one. Toby explained his idea of the continuing journey and when his friend asked him where the journey would end referred to the cabbies experiment designed to determine how little food a horse could live on [author's note: Charles Dickens The Pickwick Papers. Samuel Weller describes such an experiment, when asked its result he replied it was inconclusive as all the horses died before it was completed]. There was truth in this too, Toby thought, although advancing years and the decline attractiveness associated with this rather than a more permanent hiatus was the usual cause of a boy's release from the refuge back onto the streets.

However this was not the moment, he told himself to waste time speculating on what would be the ultimate fate of the naked brat huddled on the ground at his feet. He and the boy had a real journey to undertake. He wanted them to be in London before dark and down in Pembrokeshire the late afternoon of the next day. Putting his memories; what was the name of the brat, he couldn't remember, well perhaps that was not surprising, there had been so many of them; he forced his mind back to the present to face and enjoy the task in hand.

"Back on your heels Nicky," Toby commanded and as the boy lifted his head from the floor and settled back on his haunches added, "knees wide apart and hands down by your side back straight."

"Now get your legs straight out behind you and push your bottom down so it's touching the floor."

Toby got up from the bed and began to walk round the boy.

"Don't look at me," Toby ordered sharply, "look down at the floor straight in front of you."

Standing behind the boy Toby bent to check that his bottom was really touching the floor. Placing a hand on each of the boy's shoulders he pressed down as hard as he could. Nicky moaned as his knees were force: further out from his body.

Maintaining the downward pressure on the brat Mister Toby again checked how far the boy had gone down and how wide were the spread of his legs.

"Come on Nicky," he impatiently admonished the whimpering boy, "you can do better than that I want your balls and bottom touching the floor. You can do it easily if you only tried."

"Oh please," the boy pleaded his voice choked with sobs, "please it hurts."

"Oh thank you Mister Toby," he continued as the man relaxed his grip.

The relieve though was only momentary as a couple of second laters Toby bore down again on the boy's shoulders with renewed vigour. Toby repeated the procedure over and over again each downward thrust driving Nicky's bottom further down towards the floor.

Satisfied at last Mister Toby maintained the pressure for a good ten minutes as the boy's incoherent and near hysterical pleas increased in urgency and rose in volume.

"That's enough now Nicky," he said raising his voice to be heard over the brat's sobs, "Don't make so much fuss. Of course it hurts and screaming and yelling and carrying on in that ridiculous way won't make it hurt less so pull yourself together. Now show me how well you can manage by yourself."

Releasing his grip of the boy's shoulders he straightened and stepped back. He concentrated his attention on the very slight swelling at the base of the boy's bottom where it met the the bedroom carpet as an indicator of the weight of his body resting on it. So far as Toby could judge the swelling, slight but still noticeable, remained unchanged.

"Well done Nicky," he said approvingly as he walked round the boy to resume his place on the bed.

Seated once more he bent forward to check that the boy's balls were also touching the floor, sliding his fingers under them to make doubly sure.

Satisfied he cupped the undersides of Nicky's spread thighs with his hands feeling the sinews of the boy's legs taught and iron hard as he strained to keep his knees wide apart and his bottom pressed to the ground.

He put his hand under Nicky's chin and tipped his head back. The boy's face was fixed in a grimace of pain, tears glistened wetly on his cheeks, a low plaintive sound, part moan, part whimper, came from his quivering lips. Toby gazed down into the boy's face excited and deeply stirred by his evident distress. He ran the tip of his index finger along Nicky's lips and then began to fondle the boy's head; firmly kneading the lad's scalp, squeezing the back of his neck, stroking and ruffling his fair hair. The sounds of distress coming from the boy began to assume a breathless excited undertone. Looking down Toby saw the boy's prick standing erect and quivering clearly on "display"" between his spread thighs.

Toby put his hands under the boy's arms and standing up lifted Nicky to his feet. The boy threw his arms round Toby's waste hugging him tightly. Toby stood looking down on Nicky's blonde head nestling against his shirt front. He reached behind the brat smacking his bottom before pushing him gently away.

"We'll have time enough for that and plenty more but not right now," Toby remarked turning to a small indeterminate jumble of objects lying on the bedside table

"We've got to get you ready for our journey to London. You're a pretty little whore Nicky and a hot one too," he added laughing and flicking the tip of the boy's erect penis with his thumbnail.

"I want every man who has eyes in his head to see to know what you are and to envy me. And remember Nicky you should be proud to be my whore. When you say to someone 'I am Mister Toby's slut' you must say it with pride. And when I look at you I want to feel pride; pride in owning such a well schooled sexy little fuck boy."

As he spoke Toby caressed the boy's face with his hand while Nicky stood quietly his hard cock and laboured breathing the only indications of the excitement seething within him.

"And remember Nicky," the man's voice deepened and assumed a hint of menace and iron, "remember when we are out I will be watching you. All the time I will be watching you. If you do anything wrong. If you behave in anyway unlike the well trained humble little cock slut that you are I will see it and while there is a ridiculous prejudice that prevents me beating you in public I will as sure as hell do so when we're alone together. The slightest lack of respect, the merest hint of disobedience and you will be getting the strap across your bare bottom the moment I have you alone. Do you understand?

"Yes Mister Toby Sir," Nicky's voice was hardly more than a breathless whisper charged in equal measure by sex and fear.

"Good, well now let's have a look at you, hands on the back of your neck and turn round slowly. Right round."

Mister Toby stood his head on one side watching the naked boy as he shuffled round in front of him. There had really not been much change since he had last looked at the boy when he had sponged him down that morning. The bruises on his shoulders and upper body had perhaps faded a little and might be sufficiently faded by the next day to allow the boy to dispense with a shirt.

His bottom though was badly marked and would bear those marks for several more days Scarlet ridges scored by the strap bisected its smooth tight curves raising deep scarlet welts across its skin originally pale but now blotched dark blue, so dark that it was almost black, and reddish purple with bruises that sported a growing pail yellow penumbra as the deepest bruising came out. However he had aimed his strokes at the boy's rump and a pair of shorts would cover most of the damage. Of course Nicky had screamed and capered under the lash and a couple of cuts had landed across his upper thighs. These had left nothing though that could not be explained as the results of an unfortunate encounter with a bramble bush.

All told Toby decided the boy was marked but no more so than he had expected and planned for at this stage of his schooling. With a feeling of mild satisfaction, for it is always pleasant when a plan comes together, he turned to the small, very small really, pile of objects on the bedside table that he had assembled for this moment. They were small in number but two of them had taken him some effort to procure.

The red flannelette boy's shorts he had only found after many hours trawling through charity shops in a search undertaken only after it had become apparent to him he had a good chance of getting Nicky into his hands. He came across them at the bottom of a box of miscellaneous discarded garments in the gloomiest and most obscure corner of the basement of the Putney Oxfam shop. Garments so worn, so out of date, that even the neediest and most desperate of the London poor had rejected them.

The shorts Toby had imagined had covered, somewhat inadequately it must be said for they were both flimsy in construction and diminutive in form, the bottom of some twelve or thirteen year old back in the good old days when boy's shorts were really short and before the long legged monstrosities of today came into vogue. Examining them he imagined the mother of the last wearer of them back perhaps in the 1970s placing them at the bottom of a drawer at the end of a long ago summer on the off chance they might fit next year. But they had not so there they languished while the boy grew up and left home and his parents had grown old. Eventually the last of them died and the house was cleared and the shorts and all the other useless and valueless clothes were dumped at the local Oxfam shop.

He wondered if by any chance the man who was once the boy who had worn the shorts had seen them one last time before they were sent off to Oxfam and had for a moment remembered a time long ago when he was smooth faced and slim and nice to look at and perhaps, who knows, even better to handle.

Anyway, however that was, the mother had been a careful lady who watched the pennies for the shorts had clearly seen heavy service before they had been put away. Frequent washing had left the material threadbare and faded, their original dark red a shabby rust colour. The cotton thread securing the large brass button that fastened the waste band of the shorts had clearly, from the presence of bunches of different coloured threads, been renewed a number of times. The same was true of the seam at the end of the short slit at the front of the shorts which had clearly been torn and roughly repaired a number of times. Toby pictured the boy as he grew having to pull ever harder on the shorts to manoeuvre them over his hips and then to fasten the waste band button till the stitching gave way under the strain.

The brass button itself he thought as he held the flimsy garment up to the light in the shops mean basement was a provocation. A big gleaming button on a pair of tiny shorts, its size and brightness seemed to emphasise the smallness and shabbiness of the shorts it graced. It seemed also to invite prying fingers to loosen it and to pull the shorts down over thin boy hips. And this too was clearly the only purpose these flies served. Any boy wearing these shorts who needed to pee would have to revert to the practices of early childhood and undo the waste waste band and slip the shorts down over his hips. And that in Nicky's case would mean exposing his bare bottom for he would certainly not be indulged with a pair of underpants.

They were he thought, taking one thing with another, well worth the twenty five pence the ancient and very genteel lady shop assistant had asked for them. Accepting that in Britain convention, however unreasonable, required Nicky should be clothed these were about the minimum that could be got away with. Their very shabbiness and general air of meanness and poverty should serve to remind Nicky and at the same time make plain to casual observers his lowly status. While their meagre size and the flimsy and worn material out of which they were made would encourage any connoisseur of boy's flesh to indulge in the most heated and exciting fantasies.

It was time to see how the shorts looked on the boy and if they adequately hid the livid bruises that marred his tight little rump.

"Put these on slut," Toby commanded throwing the shorts at Nicky.

The boy taken by surprise grabbed at them but missed. They hit him in the face and fell to the floor. In one lithe movement Nicky bent to pick them up. As he straightened Toby caught the look of distress on his face as appreciation of the nature of the clothes he was being required to wear dawned.

"Think yourself lucky boy, to be allowed any clothes at all," Toby said almost laughing. "It's only because of the stupid conventions in this country that you are. On the Island where there's no such nonsense you will be running about naked most of the time with the rest of the sluts. Now get on with it and put them on"

"They're very small Mister Toby," Nicky said doubtfully. He also thought they were horribly shabby and embarrassingly old fashioned but decided it was probably safer to limit his comments to practicalities. That he would have been wiser to make no comment at all was made painfully clear to him a second or two later as Mister Toby clipped him across the ear.

"Put them on you stupid brat," Toby said raising his voice to be heard over the boy's yelp of pain.

Toby watched smiling sardonically as the Nicky struggled first to work the shorts up over his hips and then to fasten the waste band button. He strained, he pulled, he breathed in, he even tried jumping in the air. At last he got the shorts fastened round his waste though it was a very tight fit indeed.

"Turn round," Toby ordered.

"Now touch your toes; with your knuckles. Come on a thin little tyke like you can do it easily. Get right down."

He put a hand on the back of the boy's head and pushed down sharply,

"Right stay like that."

Toby stepped back and stood looking at Nicky his shorts stretched tight across his raised bottom. Despite their tightness they had risen up the boy's bottom exposing an expanse of deeply bruised flesh. The damage was at its worse along the crease of the boy's rump. Knowing that the cuts would burn there longer and deeper than elsewhere Toby had deliberately targeted the area with his belt. It was clear he told himself with satisfaction that he had not lost his eye when it came to giving a boy a flogging. Cut after cut, each one laid on top of its predecessor, had bitten deep reducing that part of the slut's rump into an area of raw and broken flesh.

Toby could not resist the temptation. Resting his hand on the boy's bottom he dug his finger nails into the boy's well basted bum. Nicky yelped with pain.

Toby laughed.

"It hurts doesn't it boy?"

"Yes Mister Toby Sir. It does Sir. Please don't do it again Sir," Nicky whined.

"It's meant to hurt," Toby replied cheerfully. "That's how slut's like you learn. The strap is the most effective training aide there is. It's cheap, it's quick and provided it's used hard enough it's lessons are never forgotten."

He laughed again and administered a hearty open handed smack on Nicky's already tortured rump.

"Now stand up,straight," Toby commanded as the boy howled again.

"Pull your trouser legs down your thighs again."

Nicky pushed his thumbs inside the legs of his shorts and gingerly eased the material over the raw flesh of his bottom while Toby watched thoughtfully.

The shorts, flimsy and exiguous as they were, provided an adequate covering for the brat's bottom and just about served to hide the worst of the damage to it. It was unlikely after all that Nicky would be required during their journey to London to bend down and touch his toes with his knuckles.

There was still though the problem of the boy's shoulders which were bruised but no where near as badly as his bottom. Also it was a good four hour journey to his flat in London with five hours to do the next day when they drove down to Pembrokeshire. And those times I assumed the M25 was clear. It often wasn't and if there were problems those times could be very much greater. It was almost inevitable that Nicky would need to pee during the journey and with the shorts he was wearing and the absence of underpants that would mean dropping his shorts and exposing his bottom.

Toby had foreseen both these difficulties. He turned back to the bedside table and picking up a white t-shirt chucked it at the boy.

"Put that on," he ordered.

If the shorts were too small the t-shirt was too long. It hang loosely from Nicky's body to almost half way down his thighs giving the pleasing impression that it was possible that underneath the t-shirt his bottom was bare.

"Good," Toby said reaching out once more to the bedside table. This particular job was almost completed. There was just one more thing to do but it was very important and Toby wanted to invest it with a degree of portentous solemnity to impress the boy. He picked up a short length of chain on the table top.

"Look up Nicky. Look at what I am holding in my hand," he ordered holding the chain up by one end for the boy to see.

Slowly almost reluctantly the boy raised his head. It was as if he sensed that this was the prelude to some fresh and particularly vicious assault and in a sense it did but it would not involve any physical violence, no further cuts across his already well raked bottoming, no more blows about his head.

The chain was made of some sort of metal alloy that glistened dully in the light. It was heavy but not impossibly so for a boy's neck chain. It was short but long enough to fit comfortably about a brat's neck and not so long that once locked in place it could be removed by slipping it over his head. It was the sort of chain that young teenage boy's affected who wanted to show they were hard.

At each end were two short cylinders thick as the chain itself and in the middle was an oval metal tag made of the same dull metal as the chain. Toby had ordered it from the Refuge as soon as he knew Nicky was going to be placed in his care and had spent a few nervous days wondering if it would be delivered in time or held up in customs or delayed in some other way in the post.

"You don't know what this is but from now on it will become very familiar to you for you will wear it all the time just like the other boy's in the care of the refuge. These two metal cylinders at each end of the chain lock together and once joined cannot be unlocked so once the chain is fastened round your neck it stays there."

"Look at the metal disc."

Toby shifted his grip on the chain so that the disc was draped over the knuckles of his extended hand.

"It is an identity disc. Along the bottom is your name and the numbers 012003 giving the year and month of your birth. Do you see that ugly looking creature at the top. Do you know what it is?"

Nicky lent forward studying the disc intently. The creature was a large squat lumbering four legged vaguely reptilian looking animal. He shook his head.

"No Mister Toby Sir," he said nervously.

"It is a Komodo Dragon." [for further information see http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Komodo_dragon and for a video http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DoV-LVzAP1c]

It's the symbol of the refuge and that is why the refuge boys are called the dragon's boy's. It is a flesh eating lizard and quite as nasty as it looks. It is found on the Island and on a few neighbouring Indonesian Islands. It can be big, up to 3 metres [10 ft.] long and weighing up to 70 kilograms [150 lb] although there are rumours that lurking deep in the jungle there are specimens far, far larger. They eat carrion and small and medium sized mammals such as goats and deer. They either swallow them whole or rip them to pieces with their teeth holding the carcass down with their forepaws. If a dragon eats a goat whole it will take two or three days to digest it while it just dozes and lies still. It then sicks up a mess of bones and tufts of hair and moves on. They sometimes hunt together in two or threes, stalking their prey and catching it off guard. They have been known to attack and eat children. The old people on the Island say there are in the jungle giant dragons who creep out at night and take children particularly dishonest or ungrateful boys. If one of our boy disappears and that happens from time to time, they are after all only street kids, people will say 'he has been taken by the dragons.'"

Toby laughed harshly.

"The refuge is an old traders mansion from the time the Dutch ruled the Island.There's a rumour among the islanders that we keep a Komodo dragon in the cellar of the refuge and feed troublesome boy's to it?"

Toby laughed heartily apparently highly amused by the thought.

"Well now, be that as it may, we must get on. Turn round."

Toby looped the chain round Nicky's neck and pressing its ends together locked it in place.

"There you are," he said. "You are now one of the dragon's boys and I am looking forward to taking you to to the Island so that you can meet your dusky skinned fellows… and perhaps, who knows, the dragon as well," he added with a laugh.

"Don't touch. Don't ever touch it," Toby said suddenly and very sharply as Nicky raised his hand towards the chain now locked about his neck. "If you touch it may be thought that you are trying to take it off. That you are trying to escape the rule of the dragon and you will be beaten. You might even," and Toby chuckled as he spoke, "be taken down to the refuge cellars to meet the dragon and you wouldn't find that an enjoyable experience."

"Now I'll just push the rest of my things in my case and we will be off."

Nicky stood watching as Mister Toby hurriedly stuffed his overnight things into his bag. Tired, frightened and sexually aroused his mind was in turmoil.

He was by no means a stupid boy but he was mentally and physically exhausted. In ordinary circumstances he would have had little trouble in recognising that any claimed bargain of purchase and sale between his mother and Mister Toby involving himself was a nonsense. Fourteen year old boys simply were not bought and sold in twenty-first century Britain. Not anyway unless the boy was a trafficked Vietnamese brought in to tend a cannabis farm or a black brat from the Ivory Coast imported to provide cheap domestic labour. Indeed he had sometimes tried to imagine what it would be like to be in such a situation and had found it strangely exciting to do so. He would have seen all Mister Toby's talk about the refuge and Komodo dragons and collars and dragon's boys and being taken to meet the dragon as just designed to scare him. The dragon if it existed at all was on the Island. He was in England and if he had any sense would never set foot on the Island specially in the company of a man who clearly enjoyed frightening him with such talk.

But the circumstances were not ordinary and Nicky's mind was in turmoil incapable of thinking coherently. And the boy was further confused because he was both terrified and fascinated by Mister Toby. The man had beaten him, deliberately hurting and humiliating him. He had also introduced him to sensual pleasures of previously unimagined intensity.

So when Mister Toby caught hold of Nicky by the front of his shorts and drew him to him he came willingly enough.

"Now Nicky," Mister Toby said feeling the boy's hardness under the palm of his hand, "I am going to drive you down to my flat in London. I could just tie you up and bung you in the boot of the car. You would be no trouble there but it wouldn't be much fun for me and you'll have to start learning sometime how a young boy whore like you should behave in public and you might as well start now."

"Much of it you should know already by instinct, like keeping your eyes down, giving way to your betters at doors, watching out for signals from me telling you what to do and so on. And remember you are a sexy looking little whore, a lot of men will be eying you up and getting hard imagining getting their hands on that lovely tight little arse of yours, but I don't want you picking men up or anything. Just act modest, it'll only be an act I know because a bitch boy like you doesn't know the meaning of the word and like I said keep your eyes down. If there are any problems I'll sort them out."

"Now pick up this case and take it down to the car and we'll be on our way."

Toby walked out of the room leaving the boy to follow him. He led the way downstairs to the front door. Just as he had just as he had succeeded in getting the door open Nicky spoke from behind him.

"Mister Toby please wait I've just got to put my shoes on."

Toby very deliberately shut the front door excluding the outside world leaving him alone with Nicky. He turned slowly to face the boy who cowered away from him.

"Please Mister Toby I didn't mean… Please don't Mister Toby please…"

Toby clenched his fist and punched the boy on his left ear as hard as he could. Nicky staggered under the weight of the blow and dropping the case clapped his hand to his ringing ear.

Toby stood for a moment looking at the boy. The blow apart from a reddening and possible swelling of the ear would leave no mark. There was a danger that it might burst the boy's eardrum and leave him deaf in one ear. Toby hoped that had not happened but it was not too serious if it had. A minor injury like that would not seriously diminish his value and he had to be taught.

"First lesson," Toby said quietly, "when you're told to do something you do it. You don't ask stupid questions. Now pick up the case and bring it out to the car. Come on quickly I've got to lock the door."

He stood to one side to let Nicky squeeze past him before pulling the pulling the door closed and locking it.

He was pleased to note that there was no more nonsense from the boy about wearing shoes. Nicky seemed to have learnt that lesson at least though there would be many more for him to learn before his schooling was complete.

Toby opened the boot for Nicky to put the case in and went to sit in the car. A minute or two later Nicky joined him sliding into the front passenger seat.

"Wait," Toby said as the boy moved to put on his seat-belt.

"Get your bum up," he ordered, "and pull your t-shirt up round your waste. Right undo the button at the top of your shorts."

He reached over with his left hand and slipped it down inside Nicky's shorts.

"Good," he said withdrawing his hand and starting the car, "that is what you will do every time you get into the car. I want unimpeded access to your body."

He slipped the car into gear and drove off.

Toby drove carefully through the suburbs. He increased his speed only when he reached the motorway to London and even then he did not exceed the legal maximum of seventy miles an hour. Lulled by the steady hum of the car's engine and exhausted from lack of sleep Nicky after a short struggle fell asleep and sat slumped forward in his seat occasionally stirring uneasily. To begin with Toby tried to keep him awake, shaking him and saying his name but soon gave the job up as hopeless. No doubt he told himself the more tired the boy was the easier he would be to handle but even if he was allowed a brief sleep he thought it would make very little difference the boy was so cowed and fearful.

It was approaching one o'clock when Toby turned off the motorway into the parking area of a service station. He shook Nicky vigorously.

"Wake up slut," he said cheerfully as the boy's eyes blinked open.

It took a second or two for Nicky to recover full consciousness. Toby smiled coldly as recognition followed immediately by fear dawned in the boy's eyes.

"Yes it's me," Toby chortled, "get that pretty little arse of yours out of the car and follow me, keep close and watch my hands. Come on whore."

Toby levered himself out of the car and strode off towards the service station without a glance over his shoulder to check if Nicky was following. Soon he heard the soft pad of bare feet on the Tarmac close behind him to his right and knew the boy was there.

He pushed his way through the double doors into the building itself. The main hall was filled with the usual seething mass of assorted and generally unattractive humanity. Three or four tour buses must have stopped to give their passengers a chance to ease elderly bladders. Assorted family groups milled aimlessly about. A noisy group of young teen-agers, crowded the annex where the gaming machines were situated regardless of the notices excluding those under eighteen. Over all there was the smell of frying food and vinegar. In short it was a typical British motorway service station, a mean and grubby place serving over priced unappetising food.

He shouldered his way through the crowd to the self service restaurant at the far end of the hall. Taking a tray he turned and handed it to Nicky.

"Take this," he said, "and stand in front of me up against the counter."

Toby glanced round they were standing alone in a narrow corridor, the cool counter containing bowls of wilted salad and disheartened fruit in front of them and stacks of trays, tables with boxes of cutlery and mean little plastic containers of vinegar and mustard and something optimistically If deceptively labelled tartare sauce behind them. On the other side of the cool counter he could see the serving staff, four bored looking women staring glumly into the middle distance apparently oblivious to his presence. Opposite them over the boxes of cutlery and condiments their customers glumly savoured the doubtful,delights of chicken korma and Cumberland sausages and chips.

He and Nicky were clearly visible to both staff and customers but only from the waste up below that level they were shielded from view

Toby crowded up close behind Nicky bending over the boy's fair head apparently considering making a choice from the food on offer. He slipped his hand under the boy's t-shirt and ran it up the back of one firm young thigh the boy's flesh cool and velvet smooth to his touch. Nicky arched his back and Toby found the boy's head pressed hard against his chest. He found his hands upward journey checked by Nicky's shorts He gripped the back of boy's thigh just below the junction of his legs and squeezed hard. Nicky's breath quickened and he began make little animal sounds of pleasure and sexual excitement.

Toby bent down so that his mouth was level with Nicky's right ear. "All you've got to do slut boy is to shout out for help and this will all stop. You know that, don't you whore?" as he spoke he worked his thumb under the hem of his shorts and pressed it into the cleft of the boy's bottom.

Nicky twisted his head round so he was looking up into Toby's. He said nothing but his eyes glazed with lust and his parted lips were answer enough.

"But you won't shout Nicky not now, not ever. You like it too much to shout. Come on tell me. You like it don't you?"

"Yes Mister Toby," the boy's voice was hardly more than a whisper, "yes, I do like it."

"You are a filthy little whore," Toby remarked laughing fondly and ruffling the boy's hair.

"Come along I think I'll have something hot to eat after all."

Toby led the way across to the hot counter and after some thought choose a cauliflower cheese with a double portion of chips as being the least positively unpleasant dish on offer. Leaving Nicky to follow him carrying the tray bearing this somewhat watery dish he strode across the restaurant to an unoccupied table set somewhat apart in a corner of the vast room.

He seated himself and signed to Nicky to place the cauliflower on the table in front of him.

"Get rid of that tray," he ordered, "and then fetch me a knife and fork from the table by the counter and remember play the modest little slut, no wandering gazes just keep your eyes on the floor. There'll be enough pedos fantasising about ramming their cocks up your arse without you running after them.

Toby settled back in his chair and watched Nicky make his way back across the restaurant an appreciative smile on his face. Nicky with his mop of fair hair and slim young body, was a good looking young animal whose passage across room attracted a good deal of surreptitious attention. Toby could see from the way that the boy walked that he was aware of the interest he was attracting and that, while it may have embarrassed him, it also excited him.

Indeed Nicky was in a state of almost painfully heightened arousement. For a long time simply thinking of Mister Toby had been enough to make his prick snap to attention. But in the man's actual presence and with those earlier half formed fantasies, exciting and frightening in equal measure, of forced service to an exacting master beginning to take concrete form together with hints of an even more extreme reality to come, Nicky could feel the blood in his swollen cock throbbing with almost painful urgency.

As he crossed the crowded restaurant, bare footed, bare legged, his only clothing a t-shirt and the shortest flimsiest pair of shorts imaginable he was acutely aware of his own body and the impression his young lightly clad body was making. As instructed he kept his gaze modestly fixed on the floor but he knew he was the focus of attention of a considerable proportion of those present.

Walking with the supple animal gait that is natural to a bare foot boy his body seemed to be charged with latent sexual energy. In brief he was hot and he showed it.

He collected the cutlery and brought it back to the table where Mister Toby was sitting.

"Stupid slut," Mister Toby said smiling pleasantly and speaking quietly so no one sitting near by could hear his words nor guess them from the expression on his face, "I want salt, pepper and a sachet of tomato sauce. Go and get them quickly before the food gets any colder. And you are to go to the far side of the table so you have to reach right over it to reach them so that your t-shirt rides right up the your back . You've got nice legs show them off whore. Go on hurry."

Nicky set off again. There was no question now of his appealing for help or seeking to escape he was held captive by the demands his own sexuality more effectively than he could be by any physical chains or locks. To demonstrate this, not to eat the atrocious food served there, had been the reason for their visit to the service station. Toby lent back in his chair and congratulated himself on a job well done.

Nicky returned a little breathlessly. Toby gestured him back from the table and there the boy remained quietly standing while he ate a leisurely if not particularly appetising lunch.

Eventually full if not satisfied Toby pushed his plate away. He had really not needed to order an additional helping of chips he thought as he eyed the pile of discarded food..

Glancing at Nicky he saw the boy was gazing hungrily at the pile of abandoned chips. It was hardly conceivable Toby thought that the brat could be hungry after the mass of left overs he had been allowed to cram into himself before they set out on their journey.. He had noticed the same thing with the boys in the refuge. They were like dogs let them stuff themselves with food and within a couple of hours they would be whining for more. Any way Nicky was carrying more than enough flesh already. That would be cured fast enough, no one ever got fat on brat rations a bit of judicious starving and hard work would soon get the surplus flesh off the slut.

Anyway here was another opportunity to make the slut face up to what lay ahead of it.

"You hungry again Nicky?" he asked with deceptive mildness as he pushed the plate, piled with cold chips suggestively away from himself.

"Oh yes please Mister Toby Sir,". Nicky's said his face lighting up.

"We'll you're not getting any of these you greedy little brute. You get fed twice a day and no more and then only if you have shown yourself to be a good willing obedient little animal. Now come along you better have a pee before we set off I don't want you wetting yourself in the car."

Nicky cast a long regretful look at the plate of abandoned chips before setting off to follow Mister Toby.

A coach party had just parked outside so the Gents was crowded with elderly men desperate to empty elderly bladders in addition to the normal complement of casual travellers, salesmen, lorry drivers and so on. It was one of those loos where you stepped up onto a raised step in order to urinate into an open trough. Toby was quickly finished and went to wash his hands. Nicky took much longer and Toby watched him as he struggled to maintain his modesty while coping with a pair of shorts that had to be pulled down his bum in order for him to relieve himself.

He managed well enough until the time came to pull his shorts up and to button the waste band. Nicky with a bit of a struggle and a good deal of pulling and wriggling managed to get them back over his hips. It was when he tried to fasten the waste band button that disaster struck.

At first he tried to do the job single handed while using his free hand to hold his shorts up. That did not work. The shorts were such a tight fit that he needed to use both hands to draw and hold the waste band closed and even then it was a considerable struggle. It seemed he was just at the point of success when the stitching fastening the button to the shorts gave way under the strain. Nicky taken by surprise lost his grip of the shorts which tumbled to the floor about his ankles.

Toby opened his mouth to shout at the boy to leave his shorts where they were, not to bend over to try to recover them because to do so would cause his t-shirt to rise up his bum and reveal to anybody who was looking his heavily bruised and welt striped bottom.

But what words was he to use that would not draw attention to the very thing he wished to hide? Toby hesitated considering this conundrum and then it was too late.

Nicky, his face scarlet with embarrassment stepped back from the urinal and bent down to grab at his shorts. With the inevitability of an unfolding Greek drama his t-shirt rode up his back affording an unimpeded view of a boy's bottom bearing the unmistakable marks of a recent savage beating.

Chapter Nine

Nicky grabbed hold of his shorts as they tumbled about his ankles and pulled them hastily back up his legs, his face scarlet with embarrassment. The whole incident was over in a matter of seconds.

Toby glanced hastily round. The place was crowded and the potential audience large but people were by and large absorbed in their own private world and many had simply not seen what had happened. Then it was over so quickly that a fair proportion of people who had been looking did not fully appreciate what they had seen. A quick glimpse of a boy's bare bottom, an impression that there was something wrong but it was gone before they could establish in their own minds exactly what that was. No doubt among those apparently oblivious to the whole incident were a few who saw exactly what had happened but did not wish to get involved because their own position would not bare examination by the police.

But there were some who had seen and were merely hesitating as they sorted out in their minds exactly what it was they had seen and what they should do about it. One of them would speak out in time and once one did so the flood gates would open and he would be finished. He had two choices. One was to get out now while he had the chance but that would mean abandoning Nicky and he didn't want to do that. The boy had the makings of a good little whore and it would be a pity to give him up with the job half done. Furthermore the brat could identify him and while Toby could find sanctuary on the island he did not fancy the permanent exile from his home country that this would also entail.

The alternative to this was to take the initiative and to shift attention away from himself and Nicky onto another person and then to take the opportunity to quietly remove themselves from the scene.

The question was which other person? He looked round again searching for a likely candidate. The man who had been standing right next to Nicky would be ideal if he was not otherwise disqualified. Toby briefly studied the man and decided he was ideal for his purpose. Small, bespectacled and slightly built he had started back from the urinal and was staring at Nicky his mouth moving silently as if he was struggling to say something. He looked an intelligent if very nervous individual. Just the sort of person who might, Toby thought, make trouble if he was given half a chance.

He was not going to be given a chance. Toby strode over to him and without warning smashed a fist into his face.

"Pedophile," Toby screamed, "fucking pedophile."

The man staggered back, blood pouring from his nose, he opened his mouth and struggled to speak. Toby quickly hit him again before he managed to say a coherent word.

"I saw you molesting the boy you fucking pedophile. Why can't you keep your filthy hands off an innocent young boy."

"Having trouble Mate?" a deep male voice asked from behind him.

Toby turned to see a large man wearing a bright orange singlet and jeans standing just behind him. Bull necked, shaven headed, the singlet was drawn tight across a bulging chest. The man's heavily muscled arms were liberally decorated by elaborately tattooed snakes that writhed and twisted about his massive biceps. A broken nose did nothing to improve a face that sported a day's growth of stubble and was low on intelligence and high on brutish aggression.

"The fucking pedophile touched up my boy."

"I known I saw him."

"I did too," a small rat faced man interjected, one of a rapidly diminishing crowd of onlookers as people discretely drifted away fearing involvement in what looked to be an increasingly violent confrontation.

Since Toby had been unobtrusively watching Nicky as he peed and had seen no attempt by anyone to molest him these statements rather surprised him. However they supported his own false allegations against the man so he did not query them.

"I hate pedophiles," Toby declared.

"So do I mate… everybody does. Should be hanged or have their balls cut off. That's what should be done with filth like him."

The small man who had pulled out a handkerchief and was holding it to his nose in an attempt to staunch the flow of blood tried to protest but was silenced by a vicious punch to the stomach delivered with all his considerable strength by the gentleman wearing the orange singlet.

"Shut up you… filthy pervert," he growled and as his victim doubled up in pain, drove his knee into his face. The man staggered backwards, banged up against the wall, and then, his legs giving way under him, finished up sitting on the floor.

"Come on Nicky," Toby said draping one arm protectively round the boy's narrow shoulders, "you are upset enough already by that dirty brute's pawing you. We'll go and get a policeman."

"Could you see the pervert doesn't take off before the police arrive," he asked the big man.

"Don't you worry mate. He's not going anywhere. I'll see to that. I'll fix him so he won't be able to bother an innocent young boy ever again," and he stamped down driving his heel into the seated man's crutch.

As the man screamed Toby fought back a grin. It amused him to hear Nicky described as an "innocent young boy" when he knew the slut was almost in permanent heat.

Toby, quickly scooping up Nicky's shorts from where they lay tumbled on the floor, thrust them hastily into his trouser's pocket before hustling the boy from the room. Keeping a firm grip of the back of the boy's neck he walked briskly, but not so quickly as to attract attention, across the main hall of the Service Station towards the door out into the car park. He saw a man he recognised talking earnestly to two policemen in the Costa Coffee shop. He was no doubt telling them about the fight in the toilets, although the policemen, Toby noticed, were showing no particular eagerness to leave their free cups of coffee and intervene. He wondered if they would get round to doing so before the little man was fatally injured.

Trying to be as inconspicuous as possible, not easy he reflected when you are accompanied by as sexy a bare legged boy slut as young Nicky he hurried outside and across to the little dark blue Fiesta standing by itself at the far end of the car park

Keeping a firm grip of the back of Nicky's neck he guided the boy round to the passenger door of the car and one handed pressed the button on the car key to unlock it. Standing very close to the boy, sandwiching him between the car and the bulk of his own body, he reached round him and opened the door.

"Get in whore," he ordered.

As Nicky slipped past him into the car Toby ran his hand up beneath the hem of the boy's t.shirt to feel the cool boy's flesh below. Nicky looked up at him smiling uncertainly as he briefly fondled his bottom.

"Get on with you tart," Toby ordered, "and pull that stupid t.shirt up round your waste. I want nothing between your bum and the seat."

Walking round to the driver's door Toby reflected that Nicky had behaved quite well during the visit to the service station. As things had turned out the brat had had ample opportunity to cause problems. However, instead of appealing for help or trying to run away or anything like that he had chosen and chosen was the important word, although the choice may have been an unconscious one, to accept the future of humiliation and service to which his slave nature inexorably condemned him

Of course the slut required further schooling before it was fully broken. For one thing Toby had noted the flush of embarrassment that had coloured the boy's cheeks as he lost hold of the waste band of his shorts and they had tumbled to the ground about his ankles exposing his bare bottom to all the men assembled in the public toilet. Embarrassment indicated outraged modesty and outraged modesty self awareness and pride. The presence of these in a boy destined for the refuge and would have to be eradicated.

Animals have no modesty and no pride. No one can doubt that truth who have observed dogs for instance defecating or copulating in the street. Nicky's initiation would not be fully completed until the animal within him had been liberated and the artificial inhibitions of civilisation destroyed. Such boy's as Nicky were essentially mere animals and he had to be made if not to understand that truth at least to accept it.

Toby settled himself in the drivers seat and glanced quickly around. No one had followed them out of the building. The few cars parked near by were deserted their occupants no doubt enjoying the doubtful pleasures of Costa Coffee and Kentucky Fried Chicken.

He knew the sensible thing for him to do was to get away from the service station as quickly as he could without drawing attention to either Nicky or himself. However his blood was racing with excitement following the confrontation in the Gents toilet and the bare arsed boy seated conveniently beside him offered a ready release for the tensions seething within him.

He slid his hand up between the Toby's legs feeling his small prick hard and twig-like under the palm of his hand. He looked down into the boy's face, as the lad strained upwards towards him his lips parted his eyes glazed with excitement. Toby kissed him hard on the mouth thrusting his tongue deep into his throat. The boy gave a little cry of excitement and wound his arms tight around his neck.

Toby, alert for danger even as he wrought the boy up to ever higher states of sexual excitement, heard the wailing sound of police sirens Breaking away from Nicky's grasp he watched as two police cars their blue lights flashing roared up to the entrance of the service station. Their doors swung open and a crowd of policemen tumbled out of the cars and ran into the building. It looked as though the two police men he had alerted to the fracas in the gents toilets had felt the need to call for reinforcements. It was time to move on. He lent forward and started the car engine. Being careful not to show any signs of undue haste he slid the car into gear and drove off.

Nicky, sitting beside him stirred uneasily.

"Don't worry whore," Toby said, reaching across and giving the young lad's balls a squeeze, "we'll carry on where we left off when we get to London."

As he carefully navigated the labyrinth of roads back onto the motorway Toby silently congratulated himself on the progress of his young charges training.

Much he told himself was down to the brat's natural inclinations. He had sensed, from the moment he had first been introduced to the boy, somewhat apologetically he thought by his Mother with the words, "And this is my son Nicky, say 'how do you do' to your Uncle Toby Nicky dear, " the intensity of his suppressed sexuality. He had recognised that under the facade of sulky early teenage angst the boy was struggling to control half comprehended urges of which he was both frightened and ashamed. He knew at that moment that the fair haired apparent innocent with blue eyes and generous lips looking shyly at him through lowered eyes was his for the taking. He only needed to fan the embers that smouldered deep in his subconscious and they would burst into flames destroying all the restraints that custom, modesty and pride imposed liberating the sex obsessed slut that was the natural essence of the boy.

This he had very largely achieved but that was by far the easiest part of his task. There was little to be gained apart perhaps for a few moments of intense but short pleasure unless Nicky's energies and lusts could be bridled and directed for the benefit and enjoyment of his betters.

Not that Nicky's liberation from the bonds of convention was complete reflected Toby. The embarrassment the brat exhibited in the toilets with his shorts round his ankles and his bare bottom on open display to all about him was evidence of that. A fully seasoned slut would be incapable of feeling embarrassment. If it felt anything particular at all in that situation they would only be feelings of excitement and mild gratification at being able to show off its juvenile charms to a crowd of grown men. Even as Toby was considering this point Nicky gave further evidence that though he had made a promising start on the painful journey that lay ahead of him he had still a very long way to go.

" Please Mister Toby," he said without even asking permission to speak, "what do,you think happened to that man in the gents."

And when Toby did not reply continued - "He didn't touch me at all you know. I hope he's all right. It doesn't seem fair his getting into trouble for something he … … … "

The boy fell silent in the face of Toby's ominous silence. Toby drove on saying nothing his face grim. Nicky realising he had done something wrong again, although unsure of precisely what and knowing from past experience that the consequences for himself would be very painful, began to cry quietly.

It was not until Toby had got the little blue car safely out on the motorway and had established himself cruising at a quiet 70 mph that he spoke.

"Hands down by your sides, knees wide apart," he ordered harshly.

Nicky's sobs increased in volume. He knew he was going to be hurt. That he was unsure precisely how increased his terror.

"I'm sorry Mister Toby Sir," he faltered. "Please don't hit me again. I don't know what I done wrong Sir but if you tell me I promise I won't do it again."

Toby said nothing but taking his eyes off the road for a split second reached over to the boy and catching hold of the front of his t.shirt lifted it clear of his crutch exposing Nicky's hairless balls and small prick.

Turning his attention back to the road he steered the small car past a large truck from Poland thT was hogging the middle lane. Then, safely past this obstruction and back in the middle lane himself, he slashed the back of his right hand down into the boy's crutch. Nicky howled shrilly and clamping his knees together doubled up in his seat.

Toby pulled his hand clear of the wildly sobbing boy's thighs.

"Stop making such a fuss Nicky. You are a stupid boy. I have hardly just begun."

His voice was calm and ice cold.

"Sit up straight and get your knees apart."

"Please don't hit me again. Please Mister Toby Sir," Nicky, doubled over and sobbing, pleaded desperately.

"This is the last time I'm asking you Nicky," Toby spoke quietly but there was an edge to his voice that suggested the fury seething with him at the boy's disobedience. "Sit up straight and get your knees apart."

"Very well. " he said after a few seconds had passed of further hopeless crying from Nicky with no sign of the boy making any attempt to obey his instructions, "I take you in when nobody else will take responsibility for you, after your Mother, her patience finally exhausted, after suffering years of your totally selfish inconsiderate behaviour, finally gave up on you. I thought simple gratitude might make you eager to learn how to please me. But I see I was mistaken. You will not even accept correction at my hands."

"Well that's the end of that. I have no use for a stupid selfish spoilt little brute that won't even try to learn how to behave himself."

Toby checked in his rear view mirror,that the inside lane was clear before easing the car into it and then off the motorway onto the hard shoulder. He brought the car to a halt and switched the hazard lights on.

Reaching over Nicky's hunched shoulders Toby opened the passenger door.

"Get out," he ordered.

Nicky whimpered and looked up at him his face registering dumb misery and shock. The thought of being turned out of the car, abandoned on the motorway with just a T.shirt to cover him, his bottom and shoulders sore and ribbed with welts, indelible badges of his shame and inadequacy, terrified him. What would happen to him. Someone might stop and ask him if he was alright but that seemed unlikely the way the traffic was roaring past in a constant stream . More likely some one would report the presence of a bare footed, bare legged boy on the soft shoulder to the police and they would turn up. He would have to explain how he had been rejected by his own mother and by everybody else who might be expected to look after and love him. And it was his own fault. It was his selfish, inconsiderate, mean behaviour that had turned the whole world against him. Uncle Toby, Mister Toby, had been his last chance, and now he was turning him out onto the road in the middle of nowhere.

All right Mister Toby had beaten him., had hurt him very badly, and would indeed hurt him some more if he stayed with him but Mister Toby was all he had. And anyway it was his own fault he was being hurt. He had managed to upset everyone, his mother, his mother's boy friend, his sisters and now his Uncle Toby. He had to be a really nasty badly behaved boy to cause so much trouble.

"Get out," Toby repeated .

"Very well I'll get you out," Toby said savagely when Nicky showed no sign of moving.

He got out of the car and walked round it. Wrenching the passenger door open he reached inside for Nicky who cowered away from him. Grabbing the boy by his arm he dragged him from the car.

"Please Mister Toby, please don't leave me here. What am I going to do Sir. I got no money and no shoes to walk in and just this old t.shirt to wear… Please what am I going to do."

"I don' know and I don't care. Why should I be bothered with a boy who doesn't know how to behave and won't learn."

"Please Mister Toby I will learn. I promise Mister Toby."

"Then you get back in the car and get your knees apart and wait for what is coming to you."

Nicky said nothing but stood with his head bowed sobbing quietly.

"You won't take correction and being corrected, having a good hiding from time to time is the only way evil little sluts like you learn anything."

Still Nicky did not move.

Toby let the silence lengthen before speaking again.

"All right," he said eventually, "this is your last chance. Get back in the car get your knees apart and pull your shirt round your waste."

Nicky hesitated staring up at Toby beseechingly and then seeing no softening in the man's face climbed reluctantly back into the car. Toby slammed the door closed behind him. Stooping down he checked to see that the brat's t.shirt was raised and his balls exposed. Then he walked slowly back round the car.

Seating himself beside the whimpering boy he placed the palm of his hand on the inside of the boy's right thigh just below his balls and squeezed gently.

"I don't enjoy hurting you Nicky," he said totally untruly, "but it is the only way to ensure you listen to me and take notice of what I say."

"You don't speak unless you are spoken to. In the very rare event that you need to say something without being spoken to you have to ask permission to speak. And you certainly don't ever bother me or anyone else about whether someone has touched you up. I can think of nothing so trivial, so unimportant, as that a little whore like you has had it's bottom fondled."

"And Nicky though you may never have been told this but you still should have known by instinct that it was so. You should have known that nobody has the slightest interest in what a stupid dirty little whore like you thinks or feels."

"In fact Nicky if you had bothered to think a bit you would have realised that you did know it. But you didn't bother. You took the lazy way out. You thought it didn't matter. Well Nicky I am going to try to persuade you that it does matter. That beIng lazy and stupid is not the easy way out."

"Look up,at me Nicky."

Slowly, reluctantly Nicky raised and turned his head so that he was looking up into Toby's face with the blank fearful stare of a terrified young animal. Toby smiled cruelly and moving his hand from the inside of the boy's thigh, pinched his cheek. Seeing the expression in the man's eyes Nicky cringed back in his seat in a vain attempt to get way from him. Toby took a second or two enjoying the wildly sobbing boy's obvious terror. Then he slashed the boy yet again back handed across his genitals. Nicky howled and doubled over clasping his hands to his crutch.

"Back you come," Toby said cheerfully slipping his left hand inside the back of the boy's stout neck chain and pulling him back up. Twisting his hand in the neck chain Toby held the boy upright in his seat.

"Knees apart Nicky," he said softly and then smashed his right fist with carefully calculated violence into the brats naked crutch.

Nicky let out a howl of pure animal agony. Toby braced his arm against the. car seat as he fought to quell the boy's struggles. Nicky fought hard to escape from his grip but by twisting his hand in ,the stout chain round the boy's neck Toby soon choked Him into submission.

Toby drove two further short arm punches into the boy's already sore and deeply bruised testicles before releasing him from his grasp. Sobbing loudly Nicky slumped forward on his seat and then slid forward off it finishing up,curled into a ball on the floor of the car.

Toby sat for a moment looking down at the boy as the motorway traffic roared past in a seemingly never ending stream. Nicky's t.shirt had ridden up above his waste giving Toby an uninterrupted view of his deeply bruised bottom ribbed with the livid welts where the boy's flesh had been torn by the belt.

A cold smile touched Toby's lips and he shifted in his seat pulling on the front of his trousers to ease the pressure on his swollen prick. He always found the sight of a boy's bottom after a severe beating a stimulating one.

He hoped he had not overdone things with Nicky. Not with the strap; the use of that he had largely confined to the boy's rump. That he knew from experience could be reduced to a bloody pulp without permanent damage to a boy's physical well being. Nicky's testicles were, he knew a different matter, although he thought he would probably get away with it. The blows there although apparently savage were In fact carefully measured and controlled.

Anyway it wouldn't matter too much if it did turn out he had overdone things. There was a ready supply of replacements waiting for him on the island, admittedly brown skinned and dark haired, but a man could not expect to have everything, although he could hope. The sea in Pembrokeshire would provide a ready and efficient means of disposing of any evidence and the boy's near family being complicit in his abuse would not be in a position to make a fuss.

He thought though the boy would probably be all right. He hoped so, he did not like leaving a job half finished.

Toby drove the car at a steady 70 miles an hour [100 km/h] along the motorway to London. He was in no hurry. He had planned to get to the flat sometime in the early evening and he had plenty of time in hand. He drove meticulously, being careful not to hog the middle lane, keeping a careful eye on his rear mirror and giving plenty of warning before he changed lanes.

Every now and again he stole a glance at Nicky's body lying huddled on the flour of the car in front of the passenger seat. To Toby's considerable relief the boy's loud sobbing had soon been reduced to a low steady whimper. The former he had found irksome but it would have been difficult to improvise a gag and insert it on the side of the road. The brat's whimpering in contrast seemed to him to be nothing less than a tribute to his disciplinary skills.

It was just after seven in the evening that he brought the little blue fiesta to a halt outside the double fronted detached house half way down Colecroft Road where the basement flat that served as his London home was situated. He spent a minute or two fiddling about with the car while he got it safely stowed in the off road reserved parking place at the top of the steep stair case leading down to the narrow basement area and the door to his rented flat.

Colecroft Road was one of a number of residential streets situated just East of Putney Common that did not seem to lead anywhere in particular and which consequently appeared, outside the couple of hours in the morning and early evening during which the human tide of workers going to and from work ebbed and flowed, all but deserted.

It was just as well Toby thought, as he applied his mind to the problem of moving Nicky from the car. Into the flat that the evening rush hour was over, as the boy showed no sign of stirring from his place curled quietly whimpering on the floor of the car in front of the passenger seat.

Toby had seen such moments of physical and mental breakdown when a boy seemed almost to loose the will to live a few times among the brats on the island. it occurred most often when a boy was subjected simultaneously to intense emotional and mental strain.

It was not so much a deliberate challenge to the authority of the refuge, which was fortunate for the brat because he would have received very short shrift indeed for displaying such blatant ingratitude. It was more an attempt to simply opt out of the world in the face of what seemed no doubt to the brat to be overwhelming difficulties. Fortunately such nervous crises were generally of short duration and it was generally a simple matter to snap a brat out of one with a little bit of firm handling.

Toby got out of the car and strolled round to the passenger door. Jerking it open he spent a couple of seconds looking down at the bare-arsed boy lying huddled on the car's floor, before speaking.

"Come on Nicky out you get," he said cheerfully.

The boy did not stir so Toby bent down over him and cracked him back handed across the side of his face. "Come on you lazy little turd don't keep me hanging about."

Toby reached into the car and opened the glove compartment. He fumbled about in the muddle of instruction books and other documents until he extracted a battered packet of cigarettes and a box of matches. He had given up smoking a good ten years ago but had fallen into the practice of keeping a packet of cigarettes handy for just such a situation as this. One could not after all be sure of having an electric prod ready to hand.

He lit a cigarette and drew on it a couple of times being careful not to inhale for having gone through the trauma of giving up smoking he certainly did not want to take up the weed again. Taking it from between his lips he blew gently on its smouldering tip until it glowed red. His movements were slow and deliberate and the slight smile on his face as he bent down and rested (not pressed) the glowing tip of the cigarette against the exposed inside of one firm young thigh suggested he was enjoying himself.

"Don't disturb the bloody neighbours," Toby said as the boy jerked and cried out in pane.

Toby pinned the boy down on the floor of the car and cut off any further cries of distress by grinding his face into the carpet with his free hand on the back of Nicky's head.

"If you didn't want to be hurt you should have done as I told you in the first place," Toby remarked mildly. He again rested the glowing cigarette end against the side of Nicky's bare thigh and held it there as the boy fought and squirmed against his grip until he was satisfied that Nicky would remember his lesson.

"Now get out of there, pull that T-shirt of yours down to cover your balls and get the my suite case out of the back of the car."

Toby stood impatiently by tapping his foot on the ground while Nicky struggled desperately to lift his case out of the boot of the car. Eventually by dint of using both hands and exercising all his strength the boy managed to drag it over the edge of the boot and onto the ground.

"Be careful with that you clumsy brute," Toby snapped as Nicky, forced to take the full weight of the case allowed it to thump down onto the asphalt.

Toby slammed the boot shut, collected the boy's shorts from the back seat of the car and set off towards the basement flat.

"Come on," he snapped over his shoulder.

It would have been quicker and no doubt have presented less of a risk of damage to his case if he had carried it himself. He was considerably bigger and stronger than Nicky but there was no point in keeping the brat if he wasn't used to do the heavy work.

Toby paused at the bottom of the steps to unlock the door into the flat. He pushed it open and went in leaving the door ajar for Nicky to follow him.

"Close the door behind you slut," Toby ordered brusquely.

The door swung closed behind Nicky. There was a loud click as the spring lock snapped shut. The boy found himself in a small room windowless apart from the half panel of heavily frosted glass set in the front door. In the dim light Nicky was conscious of Mister Toby looming over him, large, menacing and implacable. This time there was no hesitation, no wondering if he was doing the right thing, instinctively acknowledging the man's mastery and ownership Nicky dropped to his knees and pressed his face to the tiled floor of the small dark hallway.

"Take the case into the bedroom and then come here," Toby ordered..

From his place crouched on the floor Nicky saw the man turn away from him and go through one of the three inside doors leading off the hallway and into the sitting room. Nicky got quickly to his feet. The bedroom had to be through one of the two remaining doors into the hall. He got it right first time. It was a reasonably sized room but very gloomy with a window that looked out onto the blank wall of the basement area.

He quickly lugged the heavy case into the room and abandoning it on the floor hurried back to Mister Toby. He found him sitting in an armchair in front of the television, a half full tumbler of amber coloured fluid on a small table at his side.

Mister Toby glanced at Nicky as he stood uncertainly just inside the sitting room door. He smiled and beckoned the boy to him.

"Put this in the CD player and come and sit on the floor by me," he ordered handing Nicky a CD in what seemed to be a commercially produced case bearing the legend Bacu Tourist Board a South Sea Adventure imposed on a picture of a deserted palm fringed beach of golden sand.

"Watch this carefully," Mister Toby commanded manipulating the remote control, "it is by way of being a training video."

The video opened with more views of blue seas and wide deserted beaches with commentary delivered in a plummy English voice backed by romantic swelling music extolling the geography and the climate and the friendly welcoming people of Bacu.

Nicky stirred restlessly. He could not see what relevance the video had to himself and what or how it was meant to train.

"Sit still and concentrate it will get more interesting in a few minutes this is just the packaging to disguise its real nature," Mister Toby snapped.

Reaching round Nicky he gripped him under the chin forcing his head round and back so he was staring directly at the screen. The commentary had now turned to the modern towns and cities that graced the area the water parks, the art galleries, the cosmopolitan shops, the high class restaurants serving both local and international cuisine, the luxury hotels offering every imaginable luxury known to man.

The camera began to explore one of the hotels. It went from the bar to the dining room, then on to the spar, the jacuzzi, the inside and outdoor pools, and as the camera wandered it dwelt more and more on the users of these facilities all young, all nubile and increasingly scantily dressed. It reached the sauna, through clouds of billowing steam the camera caught ever more extensive glimpses of lithe young bodies male and female, smooth strong thighs, tight round bottoms, firm breasts.

Then the camera switched to a bedroom, light and airy, open windows looking out upon a view of a well kept garden with close mown lawns and flower beds packed with brilliant tropical flowers and beyond, glimpses of a brilliant blue ocean. The room was large and luxuriously furnished, an enormous double bed, four large armchairs, a large table topped with an elaborate flower display and a variety of smaller casual tables. In one armchair a large man wearing a dressing gown sat at his ease reading a newspaper.

There was a knock at the door. A young man, dark skinned and deferential, dressed in a grey almost black suite, white shirt, and black tie, a get up that just stopped short of being a uniform entered gripping the arm of bare foot brown skinned young boy that he guided in front of him into the room.

Nicky saw with a start that round his neck the boy wore a substantial chain that glittered in the light which, with its heavy links and dragon shaped clasp the duplicate of that round his own neck. The boy's only other clothing was a pair of very short very white shorts that contrasted dramatically with the boy's cafe au lait hide.

"Walking out uniform of a refuge boy," Mister Toby said quietly although not quietly enough to drown out the dialogue on the video "you'll wear the same if you're taken to one of the posh tourist hotels and I think you will look very nice too.

Despite his fear of the man Nicky felt a little spurt of pride and pleasure at the compliment.

Nicky turned his full attention back to the video. The young man had vanished, The boy was standing close in front of the seated older man. He raised his hand slightly from the arm of the chair and the boy took it in both of his and bowed deeply pressed his fore head to its back.

There was a click as Mister Toby stopped the video.

"That Nicky is the way a refuge boy acknowledges a patron or a superior in a public setting. You will need to learn how to do it."

"Stand up and turn to face me."

Nicky scrambled hastily to his feet and stood looking down on Mister Toby who lifted his right hand a few inches from where it rested on the arm of the chair on which he was seated.

"Take my hand in both yours, now bend down, don't bend your legs… And don't try to lift my hand. Keep your legs straight and get your head down to my hand. Don't loose your balance. Stupid boy. Try it again."

"As you press your head against the back of my hand say quietly but clearly 'Mister Toby, Sir'."

After five or six attempts Mister Toby seemed to be satisfied and then insisted on Nicky repeating the exercise with both of them standing. Satisfied at last he sank back into his armchair and signalling to the boy to return to his place on the floor at his feet.

"It is vital you get that right Nicky," Mister Toby remarked as he manipulated the controls, "first impressions are important and because you're my boy how you behave reflects on me. Now watch this carefully you will learn a great deal from it."

The screen leapt back to life. The camera followed the boy's head down towards the man hand. The man uncrossed his legs and his dressing gown parted revealing that beneath it he was naked . Nicky started as he saw the dark forest of pubic hair spreading up over the man's belly. The camera panned in on the man's crutch, his massive balls and swollen cock, a column of pale flesh and gristle ribbed with knotted blue veins, its pink helmet already enlarged with beads of precum welling from its piss slit.

Mister Toby began to gently squeeze the back of Nicky's neck who excited by his touch tipped his head back and wriggled closer to him The boy sat on the floor his knees drawn up to his chin his eyes fixed on the CD player's screen.

There was no need now for Mister Toby to force him to watch the video. He was totally engrossed by the action unfolding, sexually aroused by its content and simultaneously frightened and excited by the thought that he might well would be required to take the chocolate coloured boy's part in a similar performance sometime in the future.

On the screen the boy had completed the simple ritual of submission and respect required of him The man reached out and taking hold of the boy's brief white shorts with both hands eased them down over his narrow hips. Releasing them they tumbled to the ground about the boy's ankles. He was wearing nothing under them. He stepped out of the shorts and stood before the man who lent back in his chair running a connoisseurs eye over the boy flesh offered for his inspection. Nicky was struck by the contrast between the man's hairy body, heavy limbs and brute strength and the grace and apparent fragility of the slim smooth skinned boy. Looking at the pair of them there was no doubt that the man had the strength to impose his will on the boy and to crush any attempt at resistance. Not that the boy showed any sign of resistance.

A small downward gesture by the man's right thumb brought the boy to his knees his dark head buried in the man's crutch. The camera zoomed in and the screen was filled with the boy's fresh young face and the man's gnarled and swollen cock. The boy's tongue darted snake like from between his lips teasing and caressing the enlarged pink helmet of the man's prick that stood up erect and demanding, a swollen shaft of pulsating gristle. While the man lay back at his ease in his chair the boy's busy tongue collected the beads of pre-cum that welled from his piss-slit. With no apparent distaste, but then Nicky came to notice more and more as the video progressed the boy seemed to do everything demanded from him and suffer everything inflicted on him without protest or resentment, the boy swallowed the man's juices.

A small gesture from the man brought this phase of their love making to an end. The man stretched himself on his back on the bed, his hard and swollen cock straining upright from its roots in the dark forest of his pubic hair. The boy with well drilled expertise squatted beside him on the bed and with a look of the utmost seriousness verging no reverence liberally anointed the man's rampant member with lubricant. Facing the man's feet the boy straddled his body. He squatted partway down and reaching behind him carefully aligned the man's grease slicked cock with his own hole. The camera dwelt on the boy's face, its soft smooth features distorted with a grimace of pain, as he lowered himself on the shaft of pulsating flesh.

The focus of the camera shifted again as the screen was filled by an image of a man's swollen cock its pale flesh ribbed with knotted dark blue veins glistening with oil and leaking cum from its piss slit. Facing the camera the boy straddled the man's hips, squatting so that his naked bottom was only inches above his erect prick. Reaching down the he took the man's penis in his hand and guided it into himself as he lowered himself gingerly onto it. Nicky watched fascinated as the boy's face puckered in pain.

Up to that point the sound track had been fairly muted, soft almost liquid slurping as the boy sucked and licked mingled with the man's excited panting. Now though it grew in volume being supplemented by the boy's groans and whimpers of distress as he used the weight of his own body to drive the man's member into his body.

The camera shifted from the boy's face to his bottom. It focused on the man's cock that had begun to stretch and penetrate his anus. The cheeks of the boy's bottom rose and fell as the boy squatting across the man's crutch used his own weight to drive his abuser's cock ever deeper into himself. Nicky could tell from the sounds wrung from the boy as the swollen shaft of blood filled gristle split his bottom open that it was hurting and yet he worked away riding the man's cock with frenetic energy.

The man did not long lie passive. He began to respond to the boy, raising and lowering his hips in short powerful thrusts, driving his hard rod upwards into the boy as the lad's bottom descended, pulling away as it rose, pumping the boy's hole with his cock with ever increasing violence.

Nicky watched with fearful fascination. The knowledge that in time he would have to perform the part of the dusky skinned slut was both exciting and deeply terrifying. The brat's cries of distress was evidence both of the pain he was suffering and the iron discipline to which he was subjected.

The full length of the man's cock was by now almost totally sheathed in the boy's guts. A new sound came to join the brat's moans of pain and muted cries of distress. The rhythmic slap of bare flesh meeting as the man's upward thrusting hips met the boy's descending bottom.

The pace of the man's thrusts accelerated and grew more forceful and vicious. Then in a single sudden movement he tipped the boy forward so that he finished kneeling on the floor the man's cock still buried in his raised bum. The man placed his hand on the back of the boy's neck forcing him down onto the bed. The boy knelt his arse cocked up in the air, his knees splayed wide, his chest and face pushed down into the mattress while the man hammered away at his bottom. As the man's thrusts grew both in strength and frequency the boy tried to match his movements working his bottom up and down the rod of swollen blood filled flesh pumping his arse.

The man reached down and slapped the side of one of the boy's spread thighs. Responding to the gesture the boy struggled to move his knees closer together tightening his bottom around the cock buried in his guts.

Toby stirred uneasily and muttered to himself. Up to that point he considered the boy's performance had been almost faultless, a tribute to the training provided by the refuge and the inherently prurient nature of the island street boys. Here though was the first false note in the video. The slut, like all refuge boys, had been taught that it was his function to anticipate the desires and wishes of his clients and to satisfy them even before they had been formulated. And yet here was the boy being prompted by his client to tighten his bottom around his thrusting cock a clear failure to anticipate the man's wishes.

Of course this could not be allowed to pass uncorrected. Mister Toby's eyes glazed over as he remembered how the blubbing slut, the cum still leaking from his reddened hole, had knelt pleading in vane for forgiveness and how the man had slashed the cane a good half dozen times across the bottom he had so recently penetrated. He remembered too how the man excited by the act of flogging the boy, one in Toby's opinion of the most potent aphrodisiacs known, had slowly regained his enthusiasm until he threw down the cane and again mounted the sobbing slut's now bleeding rump.

Mister Toby thoroughly aroused by the video and its associated memories tightened his grip on the back of Nicky's neck and guided him forward until he was kneeling between his spread knees. Nicky knelt his face inches from Mister Toby's open flies with the man's swollen cock standing proud and clear of the coarse fabric of his trousers. With his experiences of the previous night and the lessons of the video fresh in his mind Nicky would have been under no illusions about the roll he was expected to play even without the pressure of the man's hand on the back of his neck.

Anyway Nicky was far from unwilling. The man's rigid cock, ribbed with swollen blue and purple knotted veins far from repelling him excited him. Memories of the previous night, of the feel of Mister Toby's penis between his lips the blood quickening and pulsing within it in response to his teasing wakened and released the slut instincts latent in many if not every pubescent boy. The video, which he could not now see but whose sound track provided a wholly appropriate back ground symphony of lust induced youthful moans and whimpers as he damped his lips with the tip of his tongue and bent to his task, had fired his imagination and hinted at new skills and techniques to learn and exercise.

Even the smell of Mister Toby's body, exaggerated by hours spent seated in the warmth of the car, that rose from his gaping flies and filled Nicky's nostrils with the rank odour of stale sweat combined with a hint of human faeces heightened the boy's excitement.

Guided but not compelled by Mister Toby's hand pressing on the back of his neck Nicky lowered his head. Emulating the brown skinned boy in the video he licked the beads of precum welling from the man's urethra before running the tip of his tongue around the trough that separated the swollen pink helmet capping Mister Toby's cock from its pulsating shaft of blood bloated gristle.

Mister Toby after hours cooped up in a small car in close proximity to a scantily clothed and very attractive pubescent boy slut was in a state of frustrated sexual excitement and responded enthusiastically to Nicky's busy tongue. Nicky feeling Mister Toby's blood throbbing under his tongue buried his head in the man's gaping flies nuzzling at the base of his penis at the point that the iron hard rod rose from its roots in his scrotum, the man's pubic hair coarse against his face. Down there it was dark and warm and the man's body odours were strong. Nicky's world had narrowed to a dark uncertain area of jumbled limbs and smooth sweat slicked flesh where the air was thick with the smell of Mister's Toby's body. Dominating all was the swollen column of blood bloated flesh rising from Mister Toby's loins that Nicky now served with the fervour of a young savage worshipping some all powerful tribal god.

Nicky though was as yet just an acolyte, an inexperienced devotee at the shrine of his pipriatic god. An ardent but inexperienced worshipper he missed the warning signs that would have alerted a more experienced slut, the precum leaking from Mister Toby's piss slit, the mini-surges in the man's loins, the sounds wrung from the man by rising passion, all precursors of a greater eruption to come and to come soon.

Thus when Mister Toby orgasmed Nicky was totally unprepared. Rather than having the man's cock lodged in his throat ready to receive the precious man seed he was straining to get his tongue at that sensitive area of a man's body that lies between the back of the balls and the anus.

The first the unhappy little whore knew about it was when Mister Toby gave a hoarse cry and jerked convulsively jetting warm viscous liquid over the side of Nicky's face and soiling his own trousers and underpants.

The next thing Nicky knew he was lying on the floor in the corner of the sitting room his head ringing from the man's blow a furious Mister Toby, his trousers tumbled round his ankles, towering over him.

"You stupid little whore," the man thundered stepping out of his trousers and driving a vicious kick into Nicky's ribcage.

Mister Toby bent and taking a firm grip of Nicky's neck chain dragged him to his feet.

"You stupid little cunt," he growled and threw the boy backwards so that he crashed against the wall and began to slide down it.

Mister Toby was used to handling the refuge boys on the island and set about his current task of teaching his young charge the realities of his new life with enthusiasm and indeed if the truth be told enjoyment. There was something about the utter helplessness of a slightly built boy in the hands of a fully grown man that was in itself intensely exciting.

There was no need to hurry things he reflected as he advanced on Nicky. They had the whole night before them, though he thought he would have succeeded in making his point long before the night was over. The look of sheer terror on the child's face showed that he understood this only too well and brought a cold smile to Mister Toby's face.

Nicky, crouching back against the wall trying to get as far away from the man as he could, screamed. Mister Toby grabbed hold of his neck chain, clenching his hand and twisting it he choked the boy into silence.

"Now Nicky," he said quietly, "don't be a naughty boy. Making that silly noise will disturb the neighbours. We'll have to do something to stop that nonsense."

Keeping his grip on Nicky's collar he reached out with his free hand and took a ball gag from the selection of objects lying ready on the occasional table beside his armchair.

"Open your mouth," he ordered and smashed his fist into the boy's stomach when he failed to instantly obey his command.

"Open your mouth turd," he ordered again drawing his fist back for a second blow.

"Wider," he said hitting the boy again.

He released his hold of the boy's collar and Nicky deprived of his support slumped down on his bottom his legs spread.

"Wider," Mister Toby repeated. He stepped close to the boy, pinning him against the wall, his knee pressed into his chest. Catching hold of the boy's jaws he forced them apart and with one deft movement jammed the ball gag into the brat's mouth.

"Up," he snapped drawing his foot back and kicking Nicky with nicely calculated force between the legs. "Hard enough to hurt not so hard as to cripple," the slave driver's mantra over the centuries.

Nicky made a peculiar noise part groan, part protest, muffled and made incomprehensible by the ball gag forcing his jaws apart, as he scrambled to his feet.

"I must have hurt the slut quote a bit," Mister Toby reflected with satisfaction as he looked at the boy doubled over in front of him his hands clasped to his balls, tears coursing down his cheeks.

"Crying already," he sneered at the boy. "I haven't even started yet. You'll have something really to cry about when I do. I told you last night that in future you were to swallow my seed and the seed of any other man who came in your mouth. And what did you do you ghastly lump of dog's shit? The very first time I gave you the chance to suck me you spat it all out. What's the matter with you turd. You think you're too important to drink my cum? Is that it?"

Nicky cowered away from the man unable to say anything in reply to his furious onslaught.

"Well don't just stand there cunt. Get the cane. Hanging up behind the kitchen door. Fetch it."

Mister Toby grabbed Nicky by the shoulders and swung him round to face the door to the hallway. He gave him a shove to start him on his way followed up by a full blooded kick up the backside when the brat had gone a sufficient distance to allow the man a good swing at that most attractive of targets.

Nicky staggered forward and out into the hall. He found the cane as Mister Toby said hanging from a hook behind the kitchen door. His knees weakened and he felt physically. sick as he reached up for it, it was so obviously designed and made with one purpose in view; to rip and tear a boy's tender bottom, to inflict pain.

"Get on with it boy. Bring the cane here. Don't keep me waiting," he heard Mister Toby's voice demand behind him. He could sense the excitement in the man's voice.

He lifted the cane down. It was just over three foot long (a metre), thick as a man's thumb at its handle, slightly tapered, it had the weight and the flexibility to bite hard and deep. Holding it, feeling its weight in his hand he began to shake with fear. The strap with which Mister Toby had warmed his bottom the precious evening had been bad enough but this he knew would be far worse.

The strap had laid broad crimson stripes across the egg white flesh of his round bottom, stripes that had now deepened and changed colour as the bruising came out. Initially a raw red they had now darkened and ranged from almost black through a deep red tinged purple, to dark red and at the outer fringes assumed a yellowish tinge. The damage and pain inflicted by the cane would be deeper and more concentrated. It would score weals of raw and broken flesh across the sweet curve of his tight boy's rump from which blood would well to trickle in glistening red rivulets down the back of his bare thighs.

The thought of the rod raking the raw flesh of his bottom, reawakening and then multiplying many times the agony of his earlier flogging, terrified him.

And it was not only the prospect of the cane that filled him with dread, weakening his knees, tightening his chest and throat. There was also what lay beyond the cane and the agony of his coming flogging. He could not banish from his mind the memory of the video he had been made to watch. The brown skinned boy's whimpers, the images of his face twisted in pain and of the man's swollen cock, its full length buried in the brat's guts remorselessly pumping his bottom. Mister Toby had told him that he would have to experience and suffer the same.

Fear overwhelmed Nicky. Rational thought, the calculation of chances, the consideration of consequences, of pros and cons, advantages and disadvantages, were abandoned to a panic stricken urge to flee, to escape from the flat and from Mister Toby.

Through the open kitchen door Nicky could see the front door to the flat. It was secured by two bolts and a spring lock. He had only to get though that door, up the area steps and into the street and he would be safe from Mister Toby, from the cane, and from a future as a boy whore.

Mister Toby was in the sitting room waiting for him to bring him the cane. The door was open into the hall but there was a good chance thatMister Toby would have his attention fixed on the video that he could tell from its sound track was still running.

Nicky placed the cane carefully on the top of a kitchen unit and then set off across the hall on tiptoe towards the front door. Glancing into the sitting room he saw Mister Toby lounging on an armchair apparently engrossed in the video.

Nicky reached the front door. He bent down and shot back the bottom bolt. The top bolt was a little more difficult but he succeeded in sliding it back after a short struggle. Still there was no sign of Mister Toby. Nicky turned his attention to the Yale lock. It would not open. He struggled with it with rising desperation but it would not yield. Then he saw it had been secured on the latch. He was just about to slide this back when Mister Toby spoke immediately behind him.

"Where do you think you are going Nicky?" He asked mildly.

"Go and fetch the cane Nicky," Mister Toby said in the same quiet dangerous tones towering over the naked boy as he cowered away from him against the locked front door.

Nicky knowing he had no chance now of making a successful break for freedom, pressing himself against the passageway wall to get as far from Mister Toby's menacing presence as he could crept past him and back towards the kitchen where he had left the cane. Mister Toby turned as he passed him never taking his eyes off him. Nicky picked up the cane from the kitchen table and returned to the hall.

Mister Toby was still standing there blocking the way to the front door and freedom. Maintaining his menacing silence he pointed at the open sitting room door.

Nicky feeling physically sick made his way into the sitting room on legs that seemed to have been turned to water. He could hear the man's heavy footsteps following close behind him.

"Turn round Nicky and give me the cane," Mister Toby's voice quiet but cold and infinitely menacing came from close behind him.

Nicky turned to face the man towering over him. Panic stricken he began to shake with fear, his knees seemed about to give way beneath him. He dropped his eyes to the floor and was about to sink to his knees when Mister Toby reached out and gripped him by the chin. He tipped the boy's head back forcing him to look into his face. His eyes were cold and merciless and seemed to be boring into his head. Nicky began to sob quietly.

Mister Toby held him for a few minutes, painfully squeezing his cheeks between his fingertips, enjoying the terror in the boy's eyes. Then he released his grip and Nicky sank to his knees Whether this was because he was so frightened his legs gave way under him or because of in his terror or a half remembered instruction or just an instinctive acknowledgement of Mister Toby's mastery Nicky himself probably could not at that moment say.

Nicky once more acting from instinct and a confused recollection of earlier instructions lifted the cane with both hands to his lips. Finding himself unable to kiss the cane properly because of the ball gag forcing his jaws apart he held it for a moment to his mouth then reached out offering it to the man.

"Knees apart," Mister Toby ordered.

"Wide apart boy," he ordered prodding at the inside of Nicky's thigh with the toe so his shoe. "Show what you've got not that you have all that much down there to show."

Mister Toby pulled a wooden straight backed chair from a corner of the room and placing it within a yard [metre] of the naked boy seated himself on it.

He reached forward and took the proffered cane from the kneeling brat.

"Look up at me Nicky" Mister Toby demanded in the same cold unemotional voice. "And hands behind your head. You're a whore and always on display, don't you ever go trying to cover yourself with your hands."

A cold smile briefly twisted the man's lips as he looked down into Nicky's face, seeing the boy's cheeks wet with tears, his eyes wide with fear, the eyes of a small terrified animal caught in a trap, which he thought to himself almost exactly described the poor little slut's situation. And yet even at this moment of extreme crisis he saw with a feeling of cold contempt that Nicky's little twig like boy's cock stood upright, stiff and quivering betraying his whore nature.

Leaning forward he reached out towards Nicky and ran the tip of his right index finger across the child's damply glistening cheek. He lifted the finger to his lips and tasted the boy's tears. His smile broadened and Nicky began to sob openly.

"You are Nicky," he remarked mildly, "a stupid little slut trying to runaway from me like that. Where do you think you were running to? There's nobody and nowhere for you to run back to. You're Mummy won't have you. She's fed up with your selfish, thoughtless behaviour and she doesn't want a filthy minded little tart like you ponceing about the house offering your boy cunt to every man that comes near the place. Nobody does, nobody wants you, you miserable little whore."

"Maybe you thought you would go to the police and they would look after you. They probably wouldn't want to be bothered with a streak of boy shit like you. They'd just hand you over to your loving Mummy who would pass you straight back to me and what do you think would happen to you then my sweetie?"

"Even if the police did take notice of what you said they'd just bung you in some God forsaken institution where everybody would know you as the filthy little animal you are and the manager would have you hawking your boy cunt round the public shit houses in the area to the local queers for a couple of quid a time."

"And you would have to go to school and everyone at school would know you were a faggot too. You'd be hunted round the school by a baying mob and they'd take it in turn to shag your bottom behind the bicycle shed."

"And anyway quite apart from having nowhere to run to what do you think you are running away from. What do you think this is you disgusting little whore?"

Mister Toby lent forward and touched Nicky's tiny cock which, despite its diminutive size, stood erect and quivering, straining upwards towards his belly button, a very public acknowledgement of his excitement.

"Keep your hands behind your head boy," and he said softly as he gently stroked the boy's stiff little prick with the tip of the cane.

"You can't run away from that Nicky. There's no escape for you. You carry your own chains and locks about with you. Run as far and as fast as you want you can't escape from yourself."

Mr Toby's voice hardened. How much of this rant of his the terrified boy would understand let alone remember he had no idea. But repetition reinforced by physical abuse over the next four weeks would, he was sure, drive the message home, The message that was that Nicky was friendless and an object of contempt to all.

"You're just a hot little boy tart and it shows, simpering and wriggling your bum at any man that looks at you. It's obvious; I spotted it straight away and everyone else does too. Maybe not recognizing it straight off but seeing something's badly wrong about you. Why do you think no one likes you not even your own mother or sister? It's because you're a dirty little pervert.

"Of course people talk about not being prejudiced and gay rights and stuff like that but you wait till people find out about you. You think you're having a hard time now with your Mummy throwing you out of the house. Just wait till they see pictures of you having your mouth filled or your boy cunt stuffed with man juice. You won't find much tolerance or understanding then. Now they sense something's wrong with you but they don't know what and you haven't a friend in the world. It'll be a bloody sight worse when they know you are a fuck boy, a poofter, a pervert. They'll hate you and despise you and quite right too, who the fuck cares a damn about an animal like you.

"You're a lucky slut that I came across you and recognized what was wrong with you. The society takes boys like you, looks after them and trains them. With the society you will be with other boys who are like you, will no longer be lonely and isolated and friendless. You will be taught to accept what you are and given an opportunity to find fulfilment in the service of the society and of its members.

"You really are the most disgusting little whore Nicky," Mister Toby remarked softly. "Look at you shit scared because you know you are in for the flogging of your young life with your cock just about exploding with excitement."

"I suppose I should do something about that or you'll be shooting boy juice all over the carpet."

And suddenly without warning he slashed the cane across Nicky's chest raising an angry red weal across the tightly drawn skin of the boy's ribcage. The boy's prick that an instant before was standing proud and erect shrivelled in the instant. Nicky cried out and began to raise his hands to protect himself from another cut of the cane. Then, remembering how he had earned a further stroke before by trying to use his hands to ward off earlier blows forced himself to get his hands back down by his sides.

"I am glad you have at least learnt something," Mister Toby said in the same mild voice, having observed the outcome of this struggle between instinct and fear on the boy's part, "and now you are going to receive another lesson that I think you will have no problem in remembering."

He paused for a moment watching silently the beads of scarlet blood forming along the line of broken skin scored by the cane across Nicky's ribcage before resuming his lecture of the boy.

"It's obvious you have a great deal more to learn. Mind you after the way you have behaved I would have been perfectly justified in turning you out on to the street when I caught you trying to run away. You wouldn't have lasted long alone in London, naked, penniless, rejected even by your own mother.

"But you were fortunate that you had been accepted into the care of the society and wears its badge. The society takes its responsibilities to the boys in its care very seriously. It never abandons a boy once it has taken responsibility for him and it never gives up on a boy.

"You are certainly in need of instruction and I can promise you that you will receive it in a form you will not forget.

"Before I beat you I will explain what you have done wrong and why you are being punished."

Mister Toby in a toneless monotone began to list the boy's various offenses.

"Given the opportunity to suck my cock you chose to reject my cum allowing it to run to waste despite having been told you had to swallow every last drop of the precious liquid. Second sent to fetch the cane you chose, rather than patiently submitting to correction and endeavouring to profit from the experience, to reject my authority and to attempt to escape punishment.

"I am afraid Nicky you haven't made a very good beginning. I hoped you would be grateful for the opportunity to find fulfilment in the service of your betters and would be keen to cooperate in your training and preparation for this task but I have been disappointed. You have been inattentive, disobedient and finally shown yourself, by attempting to run away, ungrateful. These are all very serious faults in a boy and I will not tolerate them.

"You Nicky are fortunate that even in these circumstances, even when it is a simple question of beating an ungrateful and rebellious brat into submission, the Society, mindful of its obligations to protect the physical wellbeing of those in its charge has passed regulations determining the penalties to be inflicted on a delinquent slut and the manner in which they are to be inflicted.

"First we must determine the offences for which you are to be punished. These as I have already said are ingratitude, disobedience and an unsuccessful attempt to abscond. These are all classified as serious offences carrying fixed mandatory penalties. Ingratitude being a character failing rather than a specific act is a category 1 offence carrying a mandatory penalty of 24 strokes of the cane.

"Disobedience and absconding are category 2 offences carrying a penalty for each offence of 12 strokes.

"This gives a total of 48 strokes.

"The society's penal code requires that such punishments are to be inflicted on the defaulter's bare bottom with as much force as possible using a standard society cane.

"In view of the fact a single stroke of the standard cane commonly draws blood a sentence of 48 strokes, if carried out in a single session, would shred a slut's rump and cause permanent physical damage.

"There's no point in crying Nicky, you have brought this on yourself through your own stubbornness and stupidity.

"Anyway the Society recognising this was so and true to its philanthropic first principles has placed a limit of six strokes on the number that can be inflicted on any one occasion and has further ordered that the cane should not be used on any boy with a bottom scarred by the rod.

"This eminently humane regulation means that you will receive your punishment in instalments of six strokes. The first instalment being inflicted tonight, the seven subsequent instalments as and when your bottom is healed.

"You are young and fit and your cuts should mend quickly. I should imagine that after three or at the most four days your rump would be in a condition to allow it to get another taste of the cane. Anyway you may be sure I will keep an eye on you and there will be no unnecessary delay in administering the punishment and that you will have received the full tariff of 48 strokes well before it is time to return you to the care of your mother."

Mister Toby paused and then added with a cruel smile, "I am sorry there is an element of uncertainty in these arrangements but it will bring an added interest to your mornings." (See author's note at end of chapter)

"And now it is time to replace action with words," he said and getting up from the chair on which he was sitting he, one handed, swung it round so it's back was towards the kneeling boy.

"Get over this and take a firm grip of the seat," he ordered tapping the seat of the chair peremptorily with the tip of the cane.

It seemed to Nicky that the man's words came from a great distance. In his terror they had long lost any meaning and had become a meaningless jumble of sound. Now however he did not need to-understand what the man was saying to know what was required of him. The man's gestures and actions were clear enough. It was not incomprehension that paralysed him but fear. He tried to stand but his legs would not obey his mind. He knelt on the floor tears streaming down his face his body racked with sobs.

Mister Toby had been there many times before disciplining the Society's charges on the Island but this was a moment that still stirred and excited him. The naked brat whimpering with fear, bent over offering his tight boy's bottom to the cane in a gesture of abject submission filled him with a glorious feeling of power and authority. And this time instead of some black haired street kid with milk chocolate skin he had his own fair haired nephew to chastise. A boy not so very different in appearance to his own when he had been that age. That somehow made it more exciting.

The Island boy brought up in poverty expected little from life expect hunger and deprivation. With the apathy of the destitute he didn't question or resent the treatment to which he was subjected or struggled against authority.

He might, given the opportunity, run away and seek refuge in whatever foetid slum in which he had been raised but he would not question the authority of those fate had set over him or their power to do as they pleased with him.

Nicky on the other hand was a Western boy raised in what to the dusky child of the East would have appeared unimaginable luxury. Pampered and spoilt by comparison he would have a strong sense of entitlement encouraged over the last two decades or so .by a society that increasingly prated of child rights and then complained of the arrogance and unruliness of the young.

What to the Island street kid would be the routine consequence of antagonising his social superiors would, to a Western boy like Nicky, be abuse of the most serious and traumatic nature.

True Nicky had been beaten once already so he had absorbed something of the initial shock. However that beating, administered with a short length of garden hose was, merely a preliminary softening up exercise; an aperitif to what was to come. Nicky was about to learn the hard way there was a difference in kind between having his bottom basted with a short piece of hosing and having it's tightly drawn flesh shredded by the Society's standard cane.

"Get up here," Mister Toby repeated and when Nicky paralysed with fear failed to respond he bent down and taking a firm grip of the boy by his neck chain dragged him to his feet and forced him down over the back of the chair.

Mister Toby stepped back and moved so that he was standing slightly to one side and behind the boy.

"Get your arse up boy," he ordered.

And then, when Nicky in his terror and confusion failed to respond, he slid the tip of the cane between the boy's thighs and struck sharply upwards. A muffled squeal came from behind the ball gag and Nicky's body twitched convulsively.

"Get your bottom up you stupid slut," Mister Toby snarled positioning the cane menacingly between the boy's knees for a second upwards slash at his balls.

Nicky's bare feet scrabbled desperately at the carpet as he strained to force his bottom as high as he could while Toby administered four or five sharp upward taps with the cane across the boy's balls nicely calibrated to be hard enough to hurt but not so hard as to cripple.

Satisfied at last that Nicky had raised his bottom as high as he could. Toby rested his hand on its firm tightly drawn flesh. He stood for a moment looking down at the boy's bottom, the milk white skin of his rump liberally blotched with bruising from the previous night's flogging, the angry red now deepening to a dark blood tinged purple with a surrounding yellowish penumbra as the bruising came out. It looked sore he thought, it must be sore. To test the hypotheses he clenched his fist driving his fingertips into the deeply discoloured flesh of the boy's bum ringing a muffled squeal of pain induced protest from the gagged boy. Toby laughed congratulating himself on a job well done.

Unclenching his hand he slapped the boy hard across his bottom extorting a second pig like squeal before taking a step back. He took a second or two setting himself to begin the boy's flogging. Then he rested the cane gently across the curve of Nicky's bottom smiling again as he saw the muscles in the boy's bottom tense at the touch of the rod. He raised the cane as high as he could over his right shoulder, paused again and then brought it slashing down across the boy's bare bottom with all his weight and strength behind the stroke. The rich sibilant hiss of the descending cane ended abruptly with the sharp crack of wood striking tightly drawn boy's flesh. Nicky's body was convulsed as if it had been subjected to a massive electric shock, his head jerked upwards and his bare feet drummed the floor, the chain securing his wrists to the bar across the front of the chair rattling as in his agony he fought against his bonds .

The pain was intense. Centred on Nicky's bottom it seemed to spread through and consume his whole body. It emptied his lungs of air silencing his hopeless whimpers and mumbled prayers for mercy. For a moment there was silence, broken only by the faint chink of metal from the chain securing his wrists to the chair, as he fought to draw breath. A task made doubly difficult by the ball gag blocking his mouth. Fear of suffocation was added to the terrible pain that consumed his body and the fear of further suffering. Then somehow his lungs were once again full of air and the muffled cries of distress began again.

Toby watched with rising excitement as the blood rushed back turning the white line the cane had initially scored across the heavily bruised flesh of Nicky's bottom an angry red and the first drops of blood began to form where the rod had ripped the boy's bum.

He slipped his hand under the waste band of his trousers adjusting his swollen cock. Then leaning forward he kissed the livid bleeding welt running across the curve of Nicky's rump.

He felt the boy wriggle under his touch. Straightening he licked his lips savouring the faint metallic taste of fresh boy's blood.

"Five more to go," he said raising his right arm ready for the second cut.

He paused a moment to enjoy the weeping boy's very evident terror before bringing the cane slashing down for the second time across Nicky's bare rump. With practised skill he landed the cut just half an inch above the first. Again Nicky's body jerked wildly under the impact of the cane, again beads of bright red blood formed along the scarlet line etched by the rod across the boy's already bruised behind. And so the beating progressed as Toby, working with slow deliberation worked his way methodically down Nicky's bum towards his ankles laying stripe after parallel stripe across the boy's already deeply bruised flesh. Before the sixth stroke Mister Toby shifted his position slightly so that the final stroke cut diagonally across the boy's bottom cutting across the earlier strokes. The trickle of blood flowing down the back of Nicky's thighs swelled into a freely flowing stream.

Mister Toby stood for a moment admiring his handiwork. As always after beating a boy he was thoroughly aroused. His excitement increased by the sight of blood and the sound of Nicky's hopeless sobbing. For a moment he considered dropping his own trousers and finding release for his lust in penetrating Nicky's bottom. After all the slut was conveniently positioned for the purpose, tethered in position bent over the back of the chair his bottom raised. He only needed to force the brat's legs apart to expose his boy's cunt and to hammer his already swollen and throbbing cock into him. It would hurt the boy of course. The first time always did and this time with. Nicky's bottom reduced to a bloody shambles by the cane, his agony would be that much greater but that reflection served only to increase Mister Toby's excitement.

With an effort he checked himself. With the Island boys they had evolved almost a set procedure for a boy's initiation with each individual act a distinct stage in the process of preparing the slut for service. The details might vary according to circumstances and the nature of the individual brat but penetration usually with the maximum brutality was generally reserved to act as final affirmation of a boy's subjection to the society's rule.

Nicky, he judged, was far from ready for this. However there was much that he could do to ease the hardness in his crutch and at the same time advance the boy's schooling.

Laying the cane down Toby moved so that he was standing close in front of Nicky's head. He looked down at the crown of the boy's head with its mop of flaxen hair and the narrow shoulders behind it shaking with uncontrolled sobbing. Toby dropped his trousers and pants and unbuttoning his shirt pulled it back so that his erect and swollen cock stood proud a few inches from Nicky's head. Burying his hand in the boy's fair hair he pulled the brat's head back and looked down into his face, tear stained and wet with snot. Then pushing his hips forward he rubbed Nicky's face against his crutch burying it in the dark wiry forest of his pubic hair. His blood surged and his swollen cock jetted cum over the side of Nicky's face. His body was convulsed with multiple orgasms. Keeping a firm grip of the boy's hair Toby smeared his man juice over the boy's face, feeling the boy's nose and lips move under the pressure of his hand as he spread the warm sticky fluid over them.

He wiped the last vestiges of cum from his hands in Nicky's fair hair and pulled up his trousers. Then, leaving the quietly sobbing boy bent tied down over the back of the chair, he collected the Pyrex bowl from the small table and poured a good measure of iodine into it. He took the bowl into the kitchen and topped it up with warm water. Returning to the sitting room carrying the steaming bowl of diluted antiseptic he set to work with a wad of cotton wool swabbing out the open cuts the cane had torn across the boy's bottom.

Nicky whimpered and wriggled his bottom as the iodine stung. Excited by this and the sight of the boy's rump ribbed with bloody welts it was not long before Toby's cock was once again erect and throbbing with excitement. Ignoring this he worked on until, the task completed, he unfastened Nicky's bound wrists from the chair and led the boy, his bottom and the backs of his thighs now blotched with the deep yellow stains left by the iodine into the bathroom. Forcing the brat to his knees on the tile floor he secured his wrists to one of the central heating pipes that ran round the room. Then firmly closing the door on the boy so that he would not be disturbed by the sound of his whimpering he crossed back to the sitting room and throwing himself into an arm chair flicked on the television.

An hour later he switched off the current affairs program that he had been half watching in which three well fed middle aged men in expensive suits explained that it was because they cared about the poor that they were cutting both welfare payments and the top rate of tax. Heaving himself out of his arm chair Toby stretched and made his way out to the hall.

He paused a moment outside the bathroom door to listen. The sound of faint juvenile whimpering signalled Nicky was still awake and feeling his stripes. Toby crossed the hall and opened the front door of the flat. The area at the bottom of the steps leading up from the basement flat to the street was in deep shadow. Above street lighting glowed faintly. Toby paused listening. There was the constant low hum of distant traffic that was the inescapable background noise day and night of London life but no sound of any movement from the street above, either motor or pedestrian.

Cautiously he climbed the steps to street level and glanced quickly around. The street was deserted, the only sign of life being the occasional light in a window of one of the houses lining the road. It looked thought Toby as though the householders in this part of Putney at least had decided to call it a day.

The little dark blue Fiesta stood at the top of the stairs parked off the street on the tarmacked over front garden of the house. There was a little more light up here than down in the flat's area but not much. Toby unlocked the boot and opened it. He swore quietly to himself as the boot light went on. He had forgotten about that. He spent a couple of minutes removing its bulb before returning to the flat leaving the now dark boot open.

He threw open the bathroom door and switched the light on. Jerked fully awake by the noise and the sudden light Nicky did his best to squeeze himself into a corner of the small room. Checked by the short length of chain securing his manacled wrists to the central heating pipe he finished up huddled on the floor whimpering quietly. Mister Toby lashed out with his foot deliberately driving a heavy kick into the side of his head. He unlocked the chain and dragged the dazed and sobbing boy into the hall. Wrapping the worn blanket round Nicky's naked body he lifted the boy and carried him quickly up the stairs to the parked car. There was a dull thud as he unceremoniously dumped the brat in the boot of the car. Toby pulled the blanket back from Nicky exposing his naked body and spreading it so that it roughly covered the floor of the boot. He grabbed the boy's ankles and deftly looping a plastic tie round them drew it tight.

Reaching up Toby slammed the lid of the boot closed. He stood back from the car and looked up and down the street. It was deserted, lights continue to shine from the occasional window behind which the respectable middle class inhabitants of suburbia were presumably preparing themselves for another days work in the office unaware of the high drama that was taking place within a few hundred yards of them. He congratulated himself on a job well done. The whole operation from the moment he had burst into the bathroom to the slamming shut of the boot had taken less than three minutes. In that time he solved the problem of transporting an unwilling Nicky from London to Pembrokeshire and he had done so in a way that would make him more receptive to training.

(Author's note. These arrangements I believe have some resemblance to certain provisions in Singapore's juvenile penal code. These provide inter alia that boys have to be over 16 to be subject to a judicial caning. This seems a reasonably humane provision but in practice is less so than initially appears as is shown by a case involving a boy who was sentenced to six years detention in the equivalent of a young offenders institution and six strokes of the cane. As he was only twelve at the time of the offence the latter part of the sentence was postponed for four years. I would imagine that following that his thirteenth, fourteenth and fifteenth birthdays were not occasions for unalloyed celebration on his part. One can only speculate on the lad's emotions on the eve of his sixteenth birthday.)s

He had initially hoped to get Nicky to make the journey to South Pembrokeshire more or less willingly by persuading him he would find some sort of slut heaven there with light service seasoned with frequent orgasms. He had managed to get the brat as far as London on that basis but its falsity had been unavoidably exposed by the boy's carelessness and disobedience. It would have been wrong and counter-productive to pass those over without taking firm corrective action but Nicky could not be expected to complete the journey willingly once having tasted the cane across his backside and with the promise of a further thirty strokes to come as and when his bottom had healed sufficiently to take them.

This way though he would have the best of both worlds. Nicky travelling without protest or attempting to escape for the first leg of the journey to London had made himself an accomplice in his own abuse. In doing so he had tacitly accepted he was a slut with a slut's instincts. Now though completing the journey, naked trussed hand and foot in the boot of the car, he would be afforded plenty of time to appreciate the practical implications of his choice for choice it had been.

Toby glanced at his watch. A quarter past mid-night; he would set out about 10 in the morning after breakfast, it would take him about six hours to get to the cottage in Pembrokeshire obeying the speed limit and taking an hour for lunch. That would mean about sixteen hours alone in the dark in the boot of the car for Nicky, the stripes left by the cane on his bottom burning, his jaws aching from being forced open by the ball gag and his body wracked by cramps. The day had been a warm one but the temperature had fallen appreciably and by dawn it would be colder still. Nicky trapped inside the thin metal shell of the car's boot would have little protection against the cold. The blanket on which he was lying was there to protect the inside of the car not to make him comfortable.

Nor when the sun came out and the day began to hot up would he be appreciably better off. One torment would be exchanged for another that would be all.

Lying there in the heat, stifled by the stench of his own filth, drifting in and out of consciousness, tormented with thirst and hunger, the experience could only be beneficial for the brat. It would strip away the false veneer of civilisation, destroying the last fragments of pride and modesty left to him, restoring him to the level of the brutes where he and his like rightly belonged. The quicker this was done the sooner the boy would cease to struggle against his inevitable destiny and would find fulfilment in the service of his betters.

Nicky locked in the boot of the car was not so appreciative of the advantages of his situation. He was cold and cramped and his bum felt that its flesh had been seared with red hot irons. Not that he knew exactly what that would feel like but once he had accidentally rested the palm of his hand on the heated ring of his mother's electric cooker. He had spent the next three hours with his hand in a saucepan of constantly renewed cold water complaining tearfully of the pain. That was the nearest thing he could compare the pain rising from his bottom and somehow spreading through his whole body except there was no saucepan of cold water in which to cool it down. But now that the initial agony of the cane was beginning to abate, although his bottom still hurt more than anything else had hurt in the whole of his life, including the scorched palm of his hand, a dark sickening fear added to his misery.

His current situation was bad enough but he suspected that the future was going to be much worse. For starters there was the prospect of thirty more strokes from that fearsome cane to be endured, building on and adding to the torture already inflicted on him. But Pembrokeshire was only a staging post, beyond that lay the 'Island' with its sinister and mysterious 'Society' to whose rule and to the service of its members he had already been assigned, a fate made more terrible and frightening by its very obscurity. And rejected even by his own mother he had to face all this alone without anybody to turn to for support or protection.

Alone in the dark Nicky, shivering with cold and fear, his body wracked with pain, his limbs and jaws aching with cramp, lay trussed naked in the pitch dark. He tried to shout but his cries were muffled by the ball gag. Desperately he fought against his bonds but they held firm and the harsh plastic tie bit into his flesh. Waves of hysteria and fear swept over him until exhausted he simply gave up and lay quietly whimpering drowning in a dark sea of misery..

Time passed and eventually he fell into an uneasy sleep. He woke to the sound of traffic and shod feet on tarmac as the street woke to a new day and its inhabitants set off to work. Again he tried to call for help but his cries were stifled before they left his mouth. Tears of frustration welled from his eyes and rolled down his cheeks. To have help so close, to hear people so near going about their comfortable daily business, somehow made his own situation so much worse.

Then to add to his misery he felt a build of up pressure in his bladder. He held out against the inevitable for as long as he could. Wriggling and moaning as what was at first a mild discomfort at first grew more acute until he hold back no longer. He let go and he felt a damp warm patch form on the blanket beneath him and the pungent smell of stale urine filled his nostrils.

Time dragged by. The temperature in the small dark metal box began to rise and the stench of stale urine grew stronger.

Footsteps approached the car. Nicky heard a door open, the car lurched a couple of times and then a door was slammed shut. Seconds later its engine started and Nicky, sensed from the hum of the motor and the vibration of the wheels beneath him that the car was in motion.

It grew hotter and hotter. Nicky found himself increasingly desperate for air and tormented by thirst. He drifted in and out of consciousness. Sometime in this nightmare journey he lost control of his bowels and shit himself.

He was shaken back to full consciousness. The car he realised must now be on an unsurfaced track as he was thrown about by a series of heavy bumps. After a time the car stopped, its door opened and after a brief pause was again slammed close. The car rolled forward again but only for the briefest of moments. Then there was a jumble of sounds, doors opening and closing, a heavy object or objects being dragged about, which he could make no sense of.

Suddenly the black darkness of the boot in which he had lain for almost nineteen hours was replaced by brilliant light.

Mister Toby threw the lid of the boot open and started back as the blast of foetid air hit him. Wrinkling his nose he looked down in disgust at Nicky's naked body lying in its own filth on the floor of the boot. Taking a deep breath and holding it he stepped forward and reaching into the boot he sawed away with the knife he was holding at the thick plastic tie securing Nicky's ankles to his manacled wrists. This severed he caught hold of the still inert brat by his upper arm and hauled him bodily out of the car throwing him roughly to the ground.

The car was standing where Toby had parked it in a clearing in a wood beside a rough and deeply potholed farm track. The car was parked behind a large silver Range Rover standing in front of a rectangular corrugated iron shed with the side nearest the lane open to the elements. The track stretched out ahead of the car rising steeply through the wood that pressed in close on either side of it until it disappeared over the summit of the hill.

Still confused Nicky had just time to take in sunlit trees over head before Mister Toby, taking a grip of him by the back of his collar, dragged him to his feet and twisted him round so that he was looking down into the open boot of the car. Before he realised what was being done to him he was gagging on the stench of human waste as his head was forced down towards the soiled and foul smelling blanket on which he had been lying. He struggled but he, a mere boy, had no chance against the superior strength of the grown man especially with his hands still manacled in front of him. His bare feet scrabbled on the ground as he was tipped face forward into the boot.

"Dirty little brute," Uncle Toby growled rubbing his nose in the filth encrusted blanket.

Nicky tried to protest, to explain it wasn't his fault, that he had no choice locked in the boot for hour after hour, that he had tried to restrain himself for as long as he could, but Mister Toby placing his free hand on the back of his head forced his face full down into the semi liquid filth so that he had to keep his mouth shut or run the danger of swallowing some of it.

Anyway Mister Toby knew perfectly well that all of this was quite true, that Nicky could not help what had happened, that he would have tried to control himself and he knew the misery and shame the boy would have felt cooped up for hour after hour forced to lie in his own filth. But that only increased his excitement in humiliating the boy. For Mister Toby punishing a boy was fun and there was an added thrill if the punishment was unfair or unjust. It made the exercise of power more complete, even more so if the boy knew he was being unjustly punished. Best of all was when the boy knew that Toby knew but that was an added twist that would have to wait for the moment. Now he would have to be satisfied that as he ground Nicky's face in the pee and shit soaked blanket and snarled at him that he was a filthy lazy little turd the boy's knowledge of the unfairness of what was being done to him and his inability to do anything about it made his humiliation all the more bitter and complete.

Satisfied at last that he had adequately made his point Toby pulled the upper half of the boy's body clear of the trunk and set him firmly back on his feet. Pushing Nicky's head forward he fumbled with the fastening the ball gag's strap. Undoing it he pulled the gag clear of the boy's mouth.

"You can scream as much as you want to here whore and no one will take any notice," he remarked with a grim chuckle as he bent to unlock the manacles clamped about Nicky"s thin boy wrists.

"Keep your hands down by your sides," he snapped as Nicky began to raise his hands towards his filth smeared face. "That stays there till I decide you've learnt your lesson you disgusting little brute."

Still keeping a firm hold of Nicky's collar he led the boy forward to stand beside the back passenger door of the little Fiesta. Opening it Mister Toby reached into the car and pulled out a sizeable suitcase.

"Kneel," he ordered and then, when Nicky had obeyed the command, he lifted the suitcase and rested it on its side flat on the boy's head.

"Reach up and steady it with your hands. Now stand up."

"Come on boy you can do it easily," he added as Nicky staggered under the weight.

"Straighten your back, head up, get the case balanced. Now keep it balanced if you let it get off balance you will drop it and I'll flay the skin from your shoulders for your carelessness."

Toby stepped back and slowly looked the brat over as he stood his hands steadying the heavy case balanced on his head the sunlight filtering through the overhanging foliage dappling his naked body. He saw how Nicky's raised arms lifted his chest and tightened the skin over his ribcage. He walked round the boy noting with approval his straight back and the way his stance had firmed and tightened his bottom.

Leaving Nicky standing by the track Toby walked over to the open sided shed. Nicky followed him with his eyes until he disappeared into the shed. Nicky stood very still looking for all the world like the statue of a young African porter but sculpted perhaps in pale marzipan rather than glistening ebony. Flies attracted by the filth smeared over his face tormented him. They swarmed round him crawling over his flesh particularly attracted by the moisture that they found round his mouth and nostrils and eyes.

A second or two later Mister Toby re-appeared in the boy's field of vision. Nicky's tummy lurched as he saw he was holding in his right hand a three foot [very roughly a metre] length of rubber hose. In his left he held a looped length of light chain. Nicky was not sure of the use to which the length of chain was to be put but he remembered all too well his first beating at Mister's Toby's hands to have any illusions as to the use the length of rubber hosing was likely to be put.

He watched Mister Toby strolling slowly towards him gently hefting the length of hosing a cold anticipatory smile on his face. He lost sight of him as he got nearer and slightly changed his direction of approach. He could still hear the man's soft unhurried step behind him. The steps got nearer and then stopped. Nicky could sense the man's presence standing close behind him. Nicky waited his body tense in anticipation of the blow, remembering with terrifying clarity the way it had hurt that first time when Mister Toby had used the rubber hosing on him. It was almost as bad as the cane, not as bad, nothing could be as bad as having that shredding the tender flesh of your bottom but almost.

Mister Toby stood close behind Nicky allowing the fear and tension build up in the boy, waiting for him to break.

At last Nicky could bare it no longer.

"Please don't hit me again Mister Toby Sir," he pleaded desperately, "please," he added on the verge of tears pride and dignity forgotten.

Mister Toby smiled contemptuously. This was the moment of truth he had been waiting for. The moment fear finally destroyed all the inhibitions built up over generations of civilised living leaving just the terrified little slave brat that was the essence of Nicky's being. He was not surprised that the moment had come but perhaps a little so that it had come so soon. That just showed he thought how right his instinct had been when he had first seen the boy and recognised his potential for service and pleasure.

The boy had been broken but that did not mean his schooling was completed. Rather it meant that the pressure should be maintained and strengthened to force the brat to recognise and accept the truth of his essential nature. To bind him mentally and emotionally to a life time (probably Mister Toby thought grimly a short life time) of servitude which would be stronger and more enduring than any physical restraints.

Now was the moment not to relax but increase the pressure.

Mister Toby cracked the length of hose pipe hard across Nicky's bottom where the cane had bitten deep hardly twenty four hours before.

Nicky all restraint gone screamed shrilly as the pain centred in his bottom exploded and coursed through his body emptying his lungs of breath, making him forget for the moment the hunger, the thirst, the exhaustion and the terror that had a moment before dominated his consciousness. He staggered under the weight of the blow almost losing his balance and allowing the case to tumble to the floor. With a great effort he managed to recover himself and to hold onto the case.

"Please, please Mister Toby, please," he pleaded shrilly.

Toby said nothing but slammed the hose pipe a second time across Nicky's cane ravaged bottom. Again the boy's scream rang out filling the woodland glade, drowning the wild cries of the sea gulls wheeling over-head, the chatter of the birds in the surrounding wood and the soft murmur of the breeze in the tree tops.

Again the boy fought the pain consuming his body and again he triumphed.

Nicky was never to know but those few minutes of terror and pain in the sun dappled glade in South Pembrokeshire determined his future.

"Steady boy, steady," Mister Toby said quietly resting a hand on the shuddering boy's bare shoulder until the brat had quietened. He moved round the boy to secure the length of thin chain he had collected from the shed to a ring set in the lizard clasp at the front of Nicky's collar .

"You can scream as much as you want to now boy," he remarked with a bleak smile, "nobody will take any notice."

He turned and giving the leash attached to Nicky's collar a sharp jerk he set off up the lane away from where the car stood.

"Come on slut, moosh, moosh," he said cheerfully and set off.

Mister Toby set a good pace up the hill. Nicky with shorter legs and burdened with a load that might well have exceeded his own weight found it difficult to keep up. Indeed he only managed to do so by breaking into a trot. Soon his legs and chest ached and his naked body was glistening with sweat. Toby strode on giving Nicky's lead ever more savage and frequent jerks. After a half mile or so [about 800 metres] the track levelled of and left the wood running between two dry stone walls. Out of the trees they were exposed to the full strength of the summer sun. The heat trapped between the two stone walls was intense. Sweat stung Nicky's eyes and a crowd of flies buzzed about him crawling over his body and face. He was exhausted, his whole body ached with tiredness, his throat was burning with thirst, his eyes were slowly swimming in and out of focus and the world seemed to revolve about him. But still Tony drove him remorselessly forward.

There was a gate across the lane. Toby, looping Nicky's leed over his wrist, stopped to open it.

Ahead of him the land fell steeply away for a couple of hundred feet or more, with out crops of bare rock standing out from a tangled wilderness of brambles and gorse bushes and the occasional stunted tree permanently bent under the impact of the Westerly winds. The track ran down this steep escarpment in a series of tight hairpin bends to a narrow strip of comparatively flat land, mainly marshy but with a few rather unkempt fields with over grown hedges on the higher land. At the bottom of the hill the track forded a broad but shallow stream before mounting a slight incline and disappearing among a jumble of farm buildings. It then ran on across the coastal strip of low lying land to a short concrete jetty running down over a low shingle bank to a long curving beach of golden sand. The tide was out and the broad strand stretched away for a good three miles [five kilometres] before terminating at either end in steep cliffs rising precipitously from the sea.

Toby had seen all this before.

"Come on move it. Move it," He shouted holding the hate open and giving the lead a savage jerk to urge Nicky forward.

He saw, as the boy stumbled past him, that his feet had been cut and he was leaving a trail of glistening drops of red blood on the track behind him.

Swinging the gate back across the lane and latching it he urged the boy forward with two sharp blows across the back of his thighs with the rubber hose, on this occasion deliberately avoiding hitting Nicky on his bottom its broken flesh just beginning to heal from the previous night's caning. The blows would have hurt more delivered there but there were only two more miles [three kilometres] to go and it was now all down-hill. Toby judged that the lesser pain would be on this occasion adequate encouragement for the brat and he wanted the boy's bottom to be sufficiently recovered to be ready for the second instalment of his caning within the next few days.

Brat management he reflected, as he set off down the hill with Nicky trailing behind him, like any other management, was full of such calculations; it all came down to the balancing of priorities.

Nicky 's memories of his trek to the farm were jumbled and confused. They were memories of pain, exhaustion, and burning thirst, without any particular logic or sequence. It was only when he stumbled wearily after Mister Toby around the corner of the stone barn into the farm yard that he was suddenly jerked back into sudden and full awareness of his surroundings.. A balding middle aged man with a large belly wearing shorts which went down to his knees and nothing else was crossing the yard from the house accompanied by a naked boy, perhaps a year or so younger than Nicky, carrying a bundle of towels. At their heels trotted a large well muscled Doberman. The dog sighting strangers crouched, the hair on the back of its neck rising and began to make a low grating growling noise. It was this dog and the hostile threatening noise that it was making that more than anything else focused Nicky's mind on the immediate present.

"Trapper," the man said sharply, "stop that silly noise, friends."

The dog ceased to growl but crouched low began a slow cautious advance towards where they stood.

"Ah Toby," the man called out cheerfully, "You have got here. You must forgive Trapper he's forgotten you. It's more than three years since he last saw you. Anyway I'm glad to see you back even if Trapper isn't."

"Thank you Bill," Toby replied, "I recognised him the other day playing a starring roll in one of your videos."

"Ah yes, it is surprising how popular that furry genre is. The only problem is that the experience has given the animal as strong an interest in boys' bottoms as his master' though a more indiscriminate one."

"And the additional responsibilities coming with your promotion to Head Master obviously hasn't forced you to curtail your involvement in your other commercial adventures?

"No certainly not," and Bill chuckled at the idea. "Indeed it has if anything given me access to a wider range of acting talent. You have no idea how randy the young sons of the affluent classes are given a mild degree of encouragement."

As the two men talked the dog continued to sidle silently closer, crouched low so that its body brushed the ground as it advanced. Nicky watched with increasing nervousness as it maintained its cautious progress towards where he stood never taking its black beady eyes off him even as It sidled crab like crab like past Mister Toby.

"Stand still will you," Toby snapped as Nicky stirred uneasily adding quietly to Bill, "remarkably stupid boy you know beginning to think he is more trouble than he is worth."

"Not a bad looking little whore, I would think under the bruises and dirt," Bill said cocking his head and looking Nicky over judiciously. "That colouring too, fair hair and blue eyes, will attract a lot of interest on the island. Certainly looks as though he has been in the wars recently."

"Well I am only just starting to school him and the harder a brat's treated and worked the quicker he learns."

"It's not so much the bruises, just what I expected really, but the filth on his face."

The dog was very close now. So close that, being forced to keep his head upright to avoid tipping the case balanced on his head to the ground, he could not see it.

"Trying to get the filthy little brute house trained. Put him in the boot of the car to bring him down here and when I went to get him out found he'd shit himself."

Nicky could feel the dog's nose cold and damp pressing against his ankles.

"Maybe he couldn't help it," Bill said. "How long was he kept in there?"

Trapper had moved round behind Nicky. He could feel the dog's nose against the back of his knee Then a few seconds later it was pressing into his bottom.

Trapper withdrew his nose from Nicky's bottom and began to lick enthusiastically between his legs. Nicky gasped and shifted as the dog's tongue lapped his balls and then began to explore the cleft of his bottom with quick eager darts of his tongue.

Obliged by the need to keep the burden on his head balanced Nicky was forced to submit to the intimate caresses of Trapper's tongue. He had to stand straight backed, head up, hands raised on either side of his shoulders keeping the heavy case steady while Trapper worked his tongue deeper into the most intimate recesses of his bottom. Despite his exhaustion and thirst it was not long before the dog's prying tongue began to arouse him and his penis began to swell and harden.

"Help it or not," Toby said replying to Bill's remark, "he'll exercise more self-control in future… What the hell are you doing you stupid brat…

"What are you all laughing at?"

Toby turned round to see what was happening behind him.

" Bloody hell," he exclaimed and joined in the laughter.

Trapper was down on his haunches behind Nicky trying to hammer his nose deeper into him with such power and force that every upward thrust forced the slut up onto his toes leaving him struggling to maintain his balance and the balance of the case on his head. The strain and alarm on the boy's shit smeared face, the wild bobbings and wavings of the tip of his erect prick all added to the amusement of the scene. "Ok that 's enough," Bill said , fighting back his laughter, "Jason give me those towels you're carrying and get Trapper's nose out of the whore's boy cunt and we'll get on and have our swim now."

Jason handed the towels over to Bill and trotted forward grinning broadly. Seizing hold of Trapper by his collar he pulled the dog's nose out of Nicky's bottom.

Nicky saw that grin and despite his exhaustion had the energy to resent it. He had come to accept that he was shit but that didn't mean he thought that another slut boy just the same as him should laugh at him.

"Trapper come along now," Jason said firmly and bent to pat the dog's head when evidently very disappointed to be checked in his pursuit of Nicky he was dragged unwillingly away.

"You're in your usual room Toby. Help yourself to a cup of tea if you want. You know where everything is. We'll have a chat when I get back."

"Thank you Bill, I'll get the slut cleaned up before you get back and in a fit state to be presented to you. Come on boy."

Toby jerked sharply on Nicky's lead setting the boy once again in motion. He led Nicky across the yard and up the short path to the front door of the farm house.

"On your knees boy," he ordered.

Lifting the case off Nicky's head he quickly carried it into the house. Leaving it just inside the front door he returned to the kneeling boy. A sharp tap with the end of the rubber hose on his bare rump got the boy scrambling hastily to his feet. Toby led the exhausted slut stumbling reluctantly along behind him back down the path and set off across the yard towards a water trough set against what was obviously from the loose boxes with half doors lining it the stable wall. The boy catching sight of the trough with the water lapping over its sides and forming glistening puddles oon the concrete floor below it, seemed to forget his tiredness. A spring came into his step and he started forward towards the trough. A few seconds before Toby was dragging him along behind him now he was pulling eagerly on the lead trying.

"OK," Toby said laughing and letting go of the lead, "off you go then."

Released the naked boy dashed across the yard and buried his head in the trough. Toby strolled after him at a much more leisurely pace. He stood for a moment looking down at the boy as he eagerly gulped the water from the trough, a soft almost indulgent smile on his face. He recognised that the track from the car to the farm had been an ordeal for the slut and he had done well to complete it, heavily burdened in the heat of a summer's day and barefooted. It was only right that the brat should be allowed an opportunity to quench his thirst and a brief moment of rest. He hoped he wasn't unduly soft on the boys in his charge, he was confident that he was not, but he thought that it was just common sense to see that their animal needs were looked after, so long that was as they were of use, one way or another, to their betters.

He wondered as he often did looking at some naked brown skinned island boy brought fresh to the Society's shelter how long that would be. He tried to picture Nicky on the island.

He would be a little thinner, not a lot for the boy was by no means fat, but as it would be after hard work and hunger had removed the few surplus pounds that the boy possessed and pared his body back to its essentials, deepening the dimples on his rump, tightening the skin across his ribcage. Exposure to the sun and wind would have given him a deeper tan that covered his whole body. His initial schooling completed the bruising that now covered his shoulders and bottom with ugly livid blotches would have had a chance fade. Though it was too much to hope that his body would be totally unmarked, a few welts across a slut's bottom being as much a badge of his servitude as the collar round his neck. His hair, now a golden yellow would have been bleached by the sun to a lighter flaxen colour. He was a nice looking boy, out on the island, schooled and broken, he would make with his exotic appearance a very popular little whore.

Of course, Toby thought, he had given the boy's mother the impression that he would be returned to her in time for the new school term but maybe he could wriggle out of that. The mother and her egregious boy-friend did not seem too fond of the boy and were already implicated in his abuse, both actively and in proxy by effectively lending the brat to him for the rest of the summer holidays. If he were to put to them that the alternative to Nicky spilling the beans and having them all prosecuted for child abuse was to have the boy permanently withdrawn from circulation then he thought he knew what choice they would make. Then, provided Nicky's mother was given some cover story to explain to the school authorities the boy's disappearance and he was sure he could if needed come up with something convincing, he could see nothing that could prevent him taking the boy to the island and keeping him there.

Really Toby reflected he was in a rather enviable position in that he had a choice. If Nicky shaped up well he would keep him take him out to the island and make some money out of the boy. If he did not he would simply return the boy to his mother and leave the problem with her. It all depended on Nicky but Toby's gut instinct was that he would be keeping the boy.

Toby rested a hand a hand on the back of Nicky's bare thigh and squeezed. The slut shifted under his touch, stirring uneasily and murmuring softly to himself.

"OK that's enough now," Toby said, "drink any more and you'll get the bloat."

He slipped his hand through Nicky's collar and pulled him back from the trough. The boy whined a protest but was quieted with a cuff to the head. Toby kicked Nicky's ankles away from under him bringing the boy tumbling to his knees. He secured the free end of Nicky's leash to a ring set in the paving stones some way from the trough.

Toby strode off towards the farmhouse leaving. Nicky kneeling on the paving stones looking longingly at the trough. Fed by some underground spring, water lapped over its top and trickled in little silver streams down its sides to form a small puddle around its base. Nicky stared at the water glittering in the sunlight. He was still very thirsty. So thirsty that he could think of nothing else. He forgot his fear of Mister Toby and the cane, the shame of being naked and humiliation of having his face smeared with his own filth. His world was reduced to the aching need for water and the puddle shimmering in the sun at the base of the trough from which he had been so brutally wrenched.

Knowing it was hopeless but drawn towards it by his need he began to shuffle forwards on his hands and knees towards the trough. The chain checked him just inches away from it. He realised that the leash being attached to a wring set in the ground he could get much nearer the trough, at least the base of the trough, on his hands and knees than standing upright. And at the base of the trough was that puddle of glistening water.

He was now only inches short of it. He strained towards it the leash pulling the collar tight against his throat. The lower he got his head the nearer he could get to it. His torn and bruised bare feet scrabbled painfully against the paving stones as he strained to reach the small pool of water so tantalizingly close to him. His struggles became wilder, his face was now almost pressed to the ground his knees straight, his bare bottom forced up into the air. He felt water damp against his lips he began to suck and lap at it oblivious to anything but his overwhelming need to quench his thirst.

So oblivious that he did not notice Mister Toby approaching from the house carrying two buckets of steaming water, soapy bubbles slopping over their sides until he was almost upon him. Alerted by the sound of the man's approaching footsteps the boy glanced hastily back and then returned to his lapping with redoubled energy. He knew he was in trouble again and nothing he could do would change that so he was determined to drink as much as he could before he was forcibly stopped.

Approaching from the house Mister Toby had an excellent view of Nicky's rump stuck up in the air quivering with urgency his boy hole exposed and gaping. He smiled grimly. Of course the boy should have stayed where he had been put but he found the very abandon of the slut's posture, his total lack of embarrassment or self-awareness extremely encouraging. The brat could hardly have signalled more clearly, though no doubt unconsciously, it's abandonment of any pretensions to a status above the merely animal.

Mister Toby placed the two buckets of hot soapy water on the ground by the water trough. Picking up the length of rubber hosing from where he had left it resting across one corner of the trough he grabbed Nicky by the side of his collar with his free hand Nicky and bending his elbow and locking it he lifted the boy off his feet. Nicky's howl of protest and fear was broken off short as the collar bit into his throat choking him. His legs thrashed uselessly in the air, his hands flew to his throat in a desperate but pointless attempt to break Mister Toby's grip. Mister Toby waited until the boy's struggles weakened and then, still holding his feet clear of the ground, he slashed him twice across the front of the shins with the rubber hose.

Toby released his hold of the boy's collar dropping him to the ground. Nicky collapsed onto his knees at his feet.

"Up," Toby ordered urging the boy to his feet with a sharp kick up the bum. Nicky scrambled to his feet feeling for the first time that he had been let off rather lightly by Mister Toby.

Gripping the boy firmly by the chin Toby tilted his head back and began to sponge the filth from his face. The brat he thought had certainly taken a battering mostly, he noted with a sour smile, on the left hand side of the face, which made sense because he himself was right handed. His left eye was bruised and swollen, there was an angry swelling on his left cheek bone and his mouth had an oddly lopsided look where a punch had broken his lips. The damage though appeared to be only superficial and under it you could see lurked a quality slut. Nicky, Toby thought was an appealing little whore and was made all the more so at that moment by his obvious distress, shaking with fear and tears trickling down his cheeks.

Toby forced the boy's mouth open and quickly checked he had not knocked out or worse, because more unsightly, broken any of the lad's teeth. It was easily done. All it took was a slight misjudgement in the force of a blow and the damage when done was permanent. He was relieved to see that Nicky still had a full set.

"Hands up above your head. Come on quickly."

He vigorously swabbed away at the boy's armpits and then his chest. The lad's ribcage was badly bruised. It would have been difficult to find a part of the-boy's body that was not. Toby took a pinch of flesh from the side of the boy's chest between his finger and thumb. The boy he decided was still carrying just a little excess flesh. Not enough though to concern him. Hard work and hunger would deal with that problem in short order.

Streams of soapy water flowed down Nicky's tummy forming two streams down the inside of his thighs and dripping from the tip of his flaccid little prick as Toby worked steadily down the front of his body.

"Legs apart," Toby ordered and then a second later as Nicky reacted to the touch of the warm damp cloth on his genitals, "stand still."

"That's not very still is it," Toby remarked with a chuckle flipping the swollen pink helmet that had emerged at the end of the brat's suddenly erect cock from its hiding place under Nicky's foreskin.

Toby pulled the boy's foreskin back and carefully cleaned round it. He promised himself he would have it off before Nicky left Pembrokeshire.

That would be required both by considerations of cleanliness and by his promise that Nicky would be treated no differently from an Island boy. Most such boys being Christian came into the Society's care uncut. However an appreciable minority being Muslim were cut or if too young at the time of adoption were required, on religious grounds, to be cut soon after. The rule of uniformity of treatment applied to all boy's in the Society's care, not just to Nicky. If one such boy was circumcised then all such boys had to be.

Toby thought it a good rule. He enjoyed cutting boys, thought he was rather good at it and looked forward to doing Nicky sometime over the next six weeks. Not that day though. All he was aiming to do that day was to get Nicky in a fit state to be presented to his friends and that done to feed him and then to allow him a night's rest before starting the next stage of his schooling.

"Turn round."

The boy's shoulders were heavily bruised but they were not as badly marked as his bottom, where flesh already well basted with the rubber hose had been subsequently thoroughly raked by the cane. He pressed a fingertip into the livid heavily ridged flesh and Nicky squealed with pain.

"Still smarts does it boy? It'll be a couple of days before you're ready for the cane again and the second instalment of your beating. But don't deceive yourself you'll have it in time and the further five instalments too before you leave here."

"Bend forward and get your legs apart."

"Head down lower."

Toby placed a hand on the back of Nicky's head and pushed down on it. He could have got the tip of the cane into the boy's crack easily enough when he was flogging him but he had deliberately chosen not to do so. The pain inflicted on the boy would have been intense but if he had done so, especially if he had nicked the lips of his anus, it would have left the slut so tender for so long that he would have been very near unmanageable so far as that area of his body was concerned. It would still of course have been possible to work on opening the boy up or to give an enema but he would need to be firmly secured or be held down while this was done and his screams would be piercing. There were occasions and situations where this would not matter or indeed would make a positive contribution to an evening's entertainment but he wanted to have Nicky fully prepared for the island by the time he left and was not prepared to allow any diversions from this process however entertaining they might be.

Cleaning and a start at loosening was all to be attempted at the moment.

Nicky stirred and moaned softly as Mister Toby squeezed the soaking rag he was using to swab down the boy sending a flood of warm soapy water coursing down the slut's crack and over the entrance to his hole. Frightened and exhausted as Nicky was he felt his cock stir as the warn water caressed his anus. Toby reached round the boy with his free hand.

"You're a hot little whore," he remarked finding the boy's prick stiff under his touch.

Steadying Nicky with one hand cupping his balls he pressed the damp cloth into the boy sponging between his anus lips. Then abandoning the cloth he began to force his index finger deeper into the slut.

"Steady, now steady boy," Toby said as he worked his finger deeper. Nicky murmured and stirred uneasily as Toby's prying finger awakened the most contradictory mixture of sensations, intense pleasure contending with piercing pane.

His index finger knuckle deep in the boy Toby crooked and turned it, twisting it, as Nicky wriggled and whimpered in excitement. Toby slowly withdrew his finger. For a moment he teased the boy, running the tip of his finger along the line of Nicky's anus, feeling its lips quivering with excitement. He pressed down again, this time forcing two fingers into the boy. Nicky gasped as the pain hit him. Toby ignoring the Nicky's muted protests forced his fingers ever deeper, stretching and widening the brat's hole. His fingers fully sheathed in the boy's guts he began vigorously pumping Nicky's bottom. It was not long before Toby felt the first hints of a warm dampness on the palm of his left hand as beads of pre-cum began to well from the tip of his small but very stiff cock. Pulling the fingers of his right hand out of the boy, Toby tightened his grip on the brat's balls driving his fingertips into the base of his ball sack cutting off the blood supply to his genitals until his cock shrank and grew flaccid and the threatened crisis was past.

Satisfied that he had achieved enough at this stage in the preparation of the boy, for penetration was the climax of a slut's initiation and there was plenty of time in hand, Toby quickly finished washing Nicky down.

"Come on," he ordered and led the way up the path from the yard past a lawn on which deck chairs were scattered in the shade of a chestnut tree through the farmhouse to the kitchen with Nicky limping behind him.

"Watch me so that you learn where things are kept," he ordered as he set about making a pot of tea and filling a plate with chocolate biscuits. "You'll only be shown once so pay attention. Next time you'll be expected to do it and if you get it wrong or take too long you'll be beaten."

"Now come along and bring the tray."

Back on the lawn at the front of the house Toby seated himself in one of the deck chairs instructing Nicky to place the tea tray on a small table beside him.

"Well come on boy," Toby snapped impatiently, "don't stand there looking though stupid you are. Christ you should know by instinct what to do. Kneel boy…"

"Oh God all mighty not like that," Toby hurled himself out of the deck chair and levelled hefty clout against the side of the kneeling boy's head knocking him sideways. "Not like that dumbo. I told you how you boy whores kneel. Knees wide apart, bum pressed down on the floor, back straight, head bowed, eyes on the ground, hands by your side, cock and balls on display. Come on get into position hurry up turd," and another blow crashed into the side of Nicky's head.

"You'll have to sharpen up your act boy if you are to survive here," Mister Toby snarled returning to his deck chair. "Mister Bill will be back from his swim soon. Remember your behaviour reflects on me so you'd better get it bloody right."

He sat down on the deck chair and took a couple of deep breaths before pouring a cup of tea for himself but even then the cup rattled in the saucer as he held it. The boy's stupidity was he thought intensely irritating.

It was cool in the shade of the chestnut tree. The deck chair was very comfortable and Mister Toby felt pleasantly tired and relaxed after the drive from London and the walk in the sun down to the farm. He drank one cup of tea poured another and dozed quietly off before he had even begun to drink it.

Nicky knelt on the grass not daring to move. His body had been aching with fatigue even before he had been told to kneel. It was not long before the stress of maintaining the rigid kneeling position generated a fresh and new level of acute discomfort as the cramps gripped him. The muscles in his spread thighs and bent knees seemed to contort and twist sending waves of excruciating pain through his body while his back just ached, a dull constant growing ache from which there was no escape or relieve. Tears well up in his eyes and began to trickle down his cheeks.

Then Trapper appeared in the yard followed shortly by Mister Bill and the naked boy carrying a bundle of towels. They were walking side by side and the boy as they came into view was saying something and the man was bending down to hear what he was saying and laughing.

Nicky envied the boy and his easy relationship with the man. Why couldn't it be like that between him and Mister Toby? What was he doing wrong that made Mister Toby angry with him all the time always shouting at him and hitting him. And before that made his mother and his sister turn on him and throw him out of the house and hand him over to Mister Toby. He felt it must be his fault, something he had done wrong, or something uniquely horrible or disgusting about him but he didn't know what.

Trapper bounded up the path towards them. He headed straight towards where Nicky knelt and getting behind him, tried once again to push his nose up the slut's arse, whining and licking at the base of the boy's spine when he kept his bottom pressed firmly to the ground.

Mister Toby woken by the disturbance caused by the arrival of the dog stirred and sat up. He looked across at Nicky and grinned.

"Trapper fancies you slut," he remarked with a short laugh, "maybe I'll give him a treat later but maybe not."

He laughed again and stood up to face Mister Bill and his naked boy companion as they walked up the path together towards him.

"Sorry I didn't stay to show you around but Jason here had been waiting patiently for his swim all day long and you've been here before. You know your away around."

"Good Lord Bill don't bother yourself about that. Anyway it gave me the opportunity to clean up this slut a bit so he's in just about a fit state for you to look him over."

"Nicky you filthy little turd come here and pay your respects to Mister Bill."

Nicky, who had been preparing himself for this moment ever since Mister Toby had told him it was coming and who was desperate just for once to make a good impression, moved smartly forward.

Trapper seeing his opportunity got his nose into Nicky behind and kept it there. Nicky, doing his best to ignore the dog's nose pressing into his bottom took Mister Bill's right hand in both his. He bowed deeply making sure he got his head down below his waste and pressed the back of man's head against his forehead. Trapper seeing his opportunity began licking urgently at his exposed anus. Despite this he forced himself to stay down for a good thirty seconds before releasing Mister Bill's hands and slowly straightening but being careful to keep his head bowed and his eyes down.

"Look," the naked boy said crowing with laughter, "Trapper's got him all excited with his tongue up his arse. Look at that stiffy of his. Fancy being turned on by a dog's snout in your bum."

Nicky's hatred of the boy intensified. It was all right for him he didn't have the dog licking his bottom. He would have liked to hide his erection with his hands but knew he must not do so. He felt there was something deeply wrong about getting excited by having his bottom teased by a dog.

Suddenly Nicky felt himself gripped hard by the chin and his head forced back so that he was looking into Mister Bill's eyes the man's fingers digging deep into his cheeks on either side of his chin.

"Blank, empty, nothing there at all Toby except fear. You've done a good job on the brat. How long have you had him to work on to get him to that state?"

"About thirty six hours. It's amazing how far and how quickly you can take a brat if you're hard enough on him. Mind you you've got to keep refreshing the message in what passes for the brute's mind if it is to stick. I think I'll have him well schooled by the end of our time here though."

Mister Bill released his grip on Nicky's chin and the boy looked down relieved not to have the man's cold eyes boring into his head.

"Now Nicky pay your respects to young Master Jason [author's note (2)]. Come on get a move on you filthy little whore,"

Nicky who had thought the job was done and that for once he hadn't made a mess of things heard Mister Toby and was puzzled and panic-stricken. There were only two Misters present so far as he knew Mister Toby and Mister Bill. Who was this third person whose superiority he was required to acknowledge? He dared to lift his eyes from the ground and quickly glanced round. There was nobody else there just Mister Toby and Mister Bill and that naked boy whose name he did not know. Then suddenly he realised that the naked boy whom he had thought of up to then as being just another slut like himself was the third Mister but it was too late.

"Well," Mister Toby said his voice iced cold with suppressed anger, "it seems we have a problem here. The little slut seems to think he is equal or even superior to young Master Jason although all the evidence seems to me to suggest otherwise. Do you think Jason if I lent you the use for half an hour or so of this length of hosing you could convince him otherwise."

"You mean Sir that you want me to beat him?" Jason asked his voice cracking with excitement.

"That is the general idea Jason," Mister Toby said laughing at the boy's eagerness.

"What did I say Jason about beating a boy who isn't tied up and you don't know how well schooled he is?" Mister Bill asked.

"I had a little chat with Jason about brat discipline once I knew you were bringing one with with you," Mister Bill remarked in an aside to Mister Toby, "I thought it was best he should be prepared."

"Don't worry Uncle Bill," the boy said cheerfully, "I haven't forgotten."

Then, the cheerful grin wiped from his face and replaced with an expression of grim ferocity, he spun round to face Nicky and without any warning brought the end of the length of rubber hosing as hard as he could in an upwards blow between the brat's legs. The tip of the tube caught Nicky across the balls. He screamed doubled up and collapsed on his knees. Jason jumped eagerly forward and began to rain a series of savage blows down across the kneeling boy's shoulders. Nicky driven down by the weight of the blows rolled over on his side as Jason straddled him flailing at the boy's naked body with the hose.

Trapper excited by the noise and action, crouched, snarling and then darted forward and nipped Nicky on the thigh, drawing blood. The dog circled the two boys its teeth bared, growling quietly, making sudden short dashes forward to snap at Nicky as he writhed and screamed on the ground. In one of Trapper's short forward dashes Nicky's flailing foot caught the dog across the side of the head. Trapper enraged sank its teeth into Nicky's right shin and clamped his teeth tight about it.

Laughing Toby stepped forward.

"That's enough for the moment," he said laughing cheerfully, "I think you've made your point adequately Jason."

"Let go Trapper, good boy Trapper release!"

Bending down he grabbed the dog by its collar and pulled him away from Nicky.

"Very well done Jason, I don't think Nicky will forget that lesson for a long time. Now do you want to help me with schooling the brat?"

"Yes please Mister Toby," the boy replied cheerfully stepping back from his victim's prone body, wracked with sobs, curled naked on the ground.

"Well I can see you have a taste for it Jason." Toby said looking pointedly at the boy's erect little cock.

"Well could you just take the brat down to the tack room and tie him up there to the hitching post there and wait for me? I want to have a quiet word with your Uncle Bill. I won't be long. Amuse yourself while you wait continuing your little game with Nicky. The more a brat is beaten the better he will behave.

"Ok Sir…"

"Get up filth," Jason said kicking Nicky savagely in the side.

"Take Trapper, I think you will find he will get Nicky to his feet fast enough," Toby sad surrendering his grip on the dog's collar to Jason.

"Get up, on your feet whore," Jason commanded as he eased Trapper nearer to Nicky and the dog snapped and barked at the boy.

"Fine young man," Toby remarked approvingly as Jason holding Trapper firmly by the collar set off driving Nicky set off back down to the farm yard.

"Yes," Mister Bill replied, "I am very fond of him and he will fit in fine when I bring him out to the Island. There won't be any problems with him feeling sorry for the boys there or anything and it's so fortunate you bring that brat of yours here. It will give Jason an opportunity to get used to disciplining sluts and it will be good for the brat too."

"You don't think there will be any danger of your brat turning on him now they're alone together. Jason's two years or more younger than him and the slut is a good deal bigger and stronger."

"Not a chance," Toby replied confidently, "my boy's too cowed and frightened to be able to even think of doing such a thing. That's what I wanted to talk to you about his schooling has gone so well that he'll be more than ready for the Island by the end of his time here."

"I was planning to have you bring him over when you came out with Ja for a temporary stint out there in the Christmas holidays on the grounds he wouldn't be anywhere ready before then but he's adapted so well I would like to get him out at the end of his time here That'll give him a good three weeks to get 'acclimatised'," Toby said that word with a grim smile, "before I return at the end of my furlough. But I need to make some arrangement to transport him when I am not around."

"I wonder if your friend in the British Border Agency might be able to help?"

"I'll get in touch with him and see if he had anything to suggest. I am sure he will help if he can provided there's some money in it for him. The pay they get is so low that it is an open invitation to become corrupt."

"But," Mister Bill continued a note of doubtfully in his voice, "how about the boy's family and school aren't they going to kick up a fuss if he goes missing or if they find out you've taken him out East."

"Well really the only family he's got is his mother and sister and they may be tempted to do so but I am sure they will quickly back down when I point out to them that if they persist they will be implicated in the whole thing having agreed to my taking the boy on the first place. I am considering if he fits in well keeping him permanently out there and I am sure they will accept that too, specially when I explain to them that having him stay out there permanently will be the only way that can be quite sure the brat doesn't spill the beans on them sometime in the future and no one wants to go end up in prison which where they would be if anyone finds out."

"What about his school?"

"Easy his mother, if you are agreeable, will tell his present school that he's not coming back at the beginning of this academic year because he has been offered a place in your superior fee paying school and if necessary you will back that up in a confirmatory letter on headed note paper. But it won't be necessary. Once they are told he's been safely housed elsewhere they will loose interest."

Suddenly an ear splitting scream rang out coming from the direction of the yard.

"Damn," Toby remarked, "I better get down there and see what is happening. I don't want Nicky disfigured. I hope to enjoy himself myself and then make quite a bit of money out of him. I'd better get down there and see what is happening."

He got out of his deck chair.

"By the way don't say anything about Nicky's stay on the Island being possibly permanent. I don't think he will create any problems but he maybe just that little bit easier to handle if he's left under the impression that he will be coming back, until that is he is out there."

Toby set out strolling unhurriedly down the path to the yard. Mister Bill noticed he did not hurry himself even when further loud scream rang out.

(Author's Note 2. The use of the word Master by Mister Toby here is not a reference to a Master/slave relationship but has its roots in the perhaps old fashioned conventions governing the way members and friends of 'the family' would be referred by domestic and estate workers. If the son of the house was called say Richard Bloggs he would be referred to and addressed as, as Master Richard until he reached 21 (now I suppose 18) when he would become overnight Mister Richard or possibly if the eldest son Mister Bloggs, (there would be no danger of confusion with his father as the latter would be referred to as the 'The master'). I am grateful for this information which comes to me from a friend who in the old days was a chauffeur in a big house. Some vestiges of these conventions still apply among the older people in the country side and for all I know among the super-rich and oligarchs of this world. Other and more complex rules would come into play if titles were involved but these like the rules governing the wearing of hunt buttons are extremely complex and of no practical importance outside a narrow circle who are obsessed with such matters and can be left for another day.)

Toby strolled down the path from the farmhouse towards the yard. As he reached the wicket gate into the yard a further shrill scream rang out.

Jason, he thought smiling indulgently, appeared to be enjoying him with young Nicky. It was noticeable how complete a dominance the young lad had achieved over the slut although Nicky was the elder by a good two years, which at twelve and thirteen was a very great deal. Bill was right there was good stuff in the boy and he should do well on the Island. And they needed some young blood, as in every organization there was a succession problem, and with the society with its rather peculiar objectives and customs it was important to identify likely candidates as early as possible.

The screams were coming from the butt end of the stable block which was hidden from where he was standing by the angle of the building. Toby unlatched the gate and walked through it.

The yard was immaculate, its concrete floor sloping gently away in the direction of the stream spotless without even a strand or two of straw or an abandoned length of sisal to mar its surface. Toby wondered how long a period of time had passed since it was part of a working farm with stock and the inevitable mud and animal filth. Presumably the ponies he had seen out in the field beside the house from the opposite side of the valley the previous day were brought in occasionally, especially in the harder weather, but the yard currently bore no sign of that.

He was now sufficiently far into the yard to see the end wall of the stables. Nicky was cowering back against it with Trapper's snout thrust into his crutch. The dog's haunches were pressed down to the ground and its forelegs braced as he held and pulled. Jason was standing a little back tapping his shin with the length of rubber hosing, smiling happily and sporting an erection, apparently unaware of Toby's approach.

Toby continued his unhurried stroll across the yard. He saw no urgent need to intervene. The dog was simply gripping the brat, if it was going to have his balls off it would surely have done so long ago. Better, he thought, to let Jason have his little bit of fun. Apart from anything else it would serve to establish a proper fear and respect for the younger boy in Nicky's mind.

Jason raised the length of rubber hosing and Nicky wailing in terror raised his hands to protect his head. Jason steeped quickly forward and struck him hard on the side of his chest.

"Please don't, please don't hit me again," Nicky howled and then catching sight of Toby approaching behind Jason began to plead with him.

"Mister Toby Sir, please make him stop. Please get Trapper to let go…"

The boy's desperate pleas were broken off short as Toby snatching the short length of rubber hosing from Jason cracked it down across the top of the boy's head, the force of the blow knocking his raised hands apart.

"Stop that stupid noise you filthy little whore. You speak when you are spoken to slut," Toby shouted.

"I'm sorry Uncle Toby," Jason said hastily, "what happened was I told Nicky to get a move on or I'd let Trapper loose on him and he started to rum and Trapper must have thought he was running away so he got him by the balls and held him and I was just trying to calm him down."

"That's all right Jason," Toby said laughing at the boy's anxiety and fondly ruffling his fair hair, "don't worry, a bit of rough handling will only do the stupid slut good. The more you hit him the more he will respect you.."

"Now let's get on with things. Can you get Trapper to let go of Nicky's balls please?""

"Trapper … release," Jason said sharply and the dog backed away from Nicky still baring his teeth and snarling.

"If I said rend and tare in the same tone of voice Trapper would have had Nicky's balls off. Least that was Uncle Bill says. He says he's had Trapper specially trained. I've never seen it myself though."

"Perhaps there'll be an opportunity to put that right before too long," Toby said smiling indulgently as he stepped forward to see if Trapper had done any damage to Nicky.

He bent down to examine the trembling boy's testicles. Pulling Nicky's balls forward and lifting them he examined the boy's skin for teeth marks. Apart from a couple of small puncture wounds where the dog's incisors had penetrated the skin and some minor abrasions together with bruising from an earlier beating the skin around the boy's testicles was unblemished.

"Nothing," Toby remarked dismissively, "that a dab or two of iodine won't put right."

Turning the boy with a hand on his shoulder so that he faced the tack room door he administered a sharp flick to the side of his rump with the tip of the length of hosing.

"Come on get inside there," he ordered as Nicky squeaked in pain, " get a bloody move on boy."

The tack room had started off as exactly that, a small area serving as a storage place for bridles and saddles and general horse related equipment at the end of a range of three loose boxes. In time, as the farm changed from a commercial agricultural enterprise to a holiday hostel attached to the school of which Bill was now headmaster, it had been expanded to include one of the loose boxes and its main function had changed to providing a rudimentary clinic and first aid post, a port of first call for any minor injury or illness suffered at the hostel. The wooden fitments had been torn out, the cobble floor replaced with concrete, hot and cold running water installed together with an unscreened lavatory set discretely in one corner of the room. A table, a stout bench, a few vaguely medical looking cupboards and a clutter of buckets and mops in the corner by the lavatory completed its equipment.

"Up whore," Mister Toby snapped rapping the top of the bench sharply with the length of rubber hosing, "on your hands and knees, come on move,"

He flicked the side of Nicky's rump to give emphasis to his commands. Nicky confused and terrified scrambled up onto the bench and waited trembling and sick with fear for what would come next.

"What are you going to do with him?" Jason asked as Mister Toby rooted about in one of the cupboards..

"We are going to do to him Jason," Mister Toby replied gently, "I hope you are going to help me."

"Brats, specially new brats like Nicky here," he said slapping the naked boy, kneeling on all fours on the bench, on his bare bottom, "carry all sorts of infections and parasites. Unless care is taken they can become a reservoir of disease which will effect us as well as them. It is in our own interests therefore to keep the brat population healthy and free of infection just as it is with other domestic animals"-

"I gave the brat a rough hosing down so I could show him off to you and your Uncle Bill. Now we need to, as it were deep clean him and check him over more thoroughly."

As he spoke Toby continued assembling on the wooden table a variety of tubes, jars and various mysterious looking objects.

"You know what this is for?" he asked Jason, holding up something that looked like a giant metal hypodermic syringe with a highly polished brass nozzle instead of a needle at one end.

"It's," he continued as Toby shook his head, "an enema pump. It's practically an antique. Bill found it in the back of a cupboard in the school sanatorium and brought it down here. Goodness knows how many boy's bottoms that nozzle has been up over the years. "

"The way it works you fill it with warm soapy water, shove the brass nozzle well up a boy's arse and the slowly press the pump down filling the brat's stomach with soapy water. Make him hold it inside him for as long as he can before allowing him to shit. Cleans him out and allows us to check for round and tape worms and other parasitess."

"Now would you like to grease the brat's hole up as I prepare the enema? Come on I'll show you how to do it."

"Dip your right hand index finger and forefinger in this jar of lubricant, That's right. Now work the stuff into the cleft of the brat's bottom and into his hole with your index finger."

"Keep still you stupid slut," Toby snapped as Nicky murmured and shifted uneasily as the boy's gently probing finger sent unfamiliar thrills through his body.

"Reach under him with your left hand Jason and get a firm grip of his balls to keep him steady."

"Good, give em a good tweak just to let him know you have hold of them. Right, now push hard with your index finger. Really hard it'll go in if you push hard enough."

"Don't take any notice of that," Toby ordered as Nicky caught his breath and groaned. "Keep on pushing and give your finger a bit of a twist, take your time, there's no hurry. It'll go right in till your knuckles are pressed into his bum. When you've done that ease your forefinger into him as well."

"You're doing two jobs at the same time. Greasing his bottom up ready for the enema and loosening it ready for his betters to enjoy."

"Now I'll make the enema fluid while you continue working on his bottom."

There was a clash of metal followed by the hiss of running water as Toby filled a bucket with warm water from the tap. He shovelled a couple of dessert spoons of some sort of soap powder into the bucket of steaming water and stirred it vigorously with a wooden baton.

"Right," he said carrying the bucket with soapy foam slopping over its top across to the bench where Nicky knelt whimpering more from excitement than pain as Jason worked on his boy hole, "ready now, keep hold of the whore's balls and get a firm grip of his collar with your other hand while I get this into him."

Toby pushed the brass nozzle of the pump into the foaming water and slowly drew the piston back filling the cylinder with water.

Three pints," he said thoughtfully as he greased the nozzle of the enema pump, "it'll be interesting to see how much he can take."

"Hold him firmly now, he'll be sure to jump a bit when I stick this up his backside. Keep hold of his balls and get a good grip of his collar with your other hand. Right, all set? Now."

Nicky yelled and bucked as MisterToby forced the tip of the enema pump between the lips of his anus.

"Steady boy, steady," he said quietly increasing the pressure on the pump and twisting it as he worked it deeper into the boy.

Jason panted and strained as he fought to quell the boy's struggles.

"Got to get it well into him," Toby explained as he buried the nozzle in Nicky's bum "otherwise it might leak."

"He's got a stiffy on Uncle Toby," Jason exclaimed surprise and excitement clear in the tone of his voice.

"Just what I'd expect from the little whore," Toby replied cheerfully, "He's got the making of a first class bum boy. He'll more than pay his way out on the Island I'm sure."

"Now ease the stuff into him slowly…eighth…quarter…

"Keep a tight grip on him…"

"Half…three quarters…a pint…".(1 pint equals0.6 litres). Toby reached under the side of the kneeling boy with one hand and squeezed his tummy.

"He can take a bit more," he announced.

"A pint and a quarter…a pint and a half…"

"Ok slut, off the bench boy… clamp your cheeks tight you're not to let a drop out till I say so…now jump, jump,"

As he shouted at the boy to jump Mister Toby drove down at his bare toes with the heel of his shoe forcing him to caper wildly to escape having his toes crushed.

"Come on Jason help me, make him jump faster, come on… "

"OK Uncle Toby," Jason said cheerfully grabbing the mixing rod from the bucket of enema solution and bending over to cut at the prancing boy's shins just above the ankle.

"Funny the way the tip of his cock bobs about as he jumps," he remarked giggling.

"Right that's enough you can squat now and let go. Over the empty bucket whore. I want to see what comes out of you,"

Before Nicky had got his bottom fairly fairly over the plastic bucket a mixture of shit and soapy water was shooting from his arse hole. Mister Toby and Jason stood watching as the squatting boy, knees spread wide, emptied himself into the bucket.

"I wouldn't do that with people watching me," Jason the contempt apparent in the tone of his voice, "and he's still got an erection."

"He's not the same as you Jason. " Mister Toby said prodding Nicky with his foot on the inside of one wide spread bare thigh, "he's different, he's more an animal than anything else. Some boy's are like that. Born without that something extra that distinguishes us from the rest of the animal world. Recognized it soon as I saw him in my sister's house. Just an animal with an animal mind. No idea of pride or modesty or ambition "

"He's lucky really that I spotted him for what he is. Nothing crueller for a boy like that than to be forced to spend a lifetime tryimng to be something he is not. Much kinder to make him understand and accept his limitations and the sooner and quicker that is done the better for the boy."

"Nicky here," Mister Toby poked the toe of his shoe into the squatting boy's crutch, "is fortunate to be identified early as lacking in the essential human qualities and as a consequence being spared constant years of misery and frustration. Fortunate too that he will be taken to a society where he will be able to be the sexy uninhibited little animal that nature intended."

"Now up you get slut. Back on the bench on your hands and knees."

As Nicky scrambled back onto the bench Toby picked up the bucket over which the boy had been squatting and peered into it.

"Looks all clear to me," he remarked swirling the contents around as he gazed down into the bucket, "no sign of worms or other parasites. We'll give him one more dousing just to clear him completely out and then we'll be able to get by on the monthly worming tablet just like Trapper unless he gets an infestation of some sort."

He emptied the bucket into the lavatory before washing it out with hot water. This too he poured done the loo before filling the bucket with warm soapy water.

"Push your bum up in the air Nicky," he ordered picking up a bit of rag from the table and dipping it into the gently steaming water.

"I'll clean the slut's bottom Jason," he continued as he sponged away at Nicky's rump working the warm damp cloth well into the boy's hole and sending streams of tepid soapy water down the cleft of his bottom and the inside of his thighs, "while you clean and grease the nozzle of the pump."

"You can give the enema this time and I'll hold him steady for you. I think we should easily get two pints into him. We got almost one and three quarter pints last time and he shit out a fair amount in addition to that."

"OK you ready?" Jason, he asked a moment or two later dropping the damp cloth onto the concrete floor and reaching under Nicky to grasp his genitals.

He grinned suddenly and as he slipped his free hand through the back of Nicky's neck chain remarked,

"He is a right tart Jason. I reckon his prick is harder than ever. Wouldn't be surprised if the little whore squirts slut juice everywhere when you shove the pump up his boy cunt."

"Come on fuck boy," he ordered laughing and pushing down on the back of Nicky's neck pushing the boy's head and shoulders down to at the same time as he forced his bottom up into the air his fingers needing his testicles as he did so, "it's your lucky day, you're desperate for it and now you're going to get it."

Any remnants of modesty and pride that might have remained buried deep in his subconscious finally destroyed by lust, Nicky pressed his face and chest against the seat of the bench on which he was kneeling and strained to lift his rump upwards, offering his bottom in a gesture of unconditional submission and surrender.

"God Uncle Toby," Jason exclaimed in a amazement, "his arse hole is winking at me."

"That's the lips of his anus fluttering," Toby said laughing indulgently, "it's a sign that the slut is really hot. Rest the tip of your index finger on them and they'll close round it and try to draw it into him. The whore can't help himself, he's completely lost control. Fill the enema pump and push the nozzle into him. It should slide in pretty easily."

Nicky's whole body quivered and he moaned softly as Jason inserted the nozzle of the enema pump between the lips of his anus.

"Press it in firmly," Mister Toby ordered, "you need to get the barrel of the pump pressing against his bottom keep any leakage down to a minimum."

Nicky's head went back and strange lust slurred words were wrenched from him as Jason forced the pump deeper into him. His knees scrabbled on the bench's wooden seat as he desperately tried to force his rump higher welcoming the brass tube being forced up his bottom.

The muscles in Nicky's rump began to twitch violently. Mister Toby swore and jerked his hand away from under the boy. He looked at the palm of his hand and laughed.

"That was bound to happen," he said and then added almost fondly, "filthy little whore."

Mister Toby released his hold of the boy's collar and burying his hand in Nicky's mop of flaxen hair he wrenched the brat's head black and pushed the open palm of his soiled hand into the boy's face. Nicky, unbidden, began to lick the cum from Mister Toby's palm with quick eager darts of his tongue. After a few minutes Mister Toby pulled his hand away and, after wiping the boy slobber from it on the side Nicky's bum resumed his grasp of his balls.

"Ok Jason get the enema into him, nice and steady, let's see if we can manage two and a half pints this time round."

"He's gone stiff again Uncle Toby," Jason exclaimed a minute or two later as Nicky, soapy water trickling from his arse-hole down the inside of his thighs. Stood upright from the bench.

"What do you expect," Toby replied laughing, "sex and food is just about all animals like that think about. Mind you Jason you've got an erection too and so have I but maybe it's not so noticeable under my trousers."

"It's noticeable enough Uncle Toby," Jason said with a sudden grin, "but the difference is that we're doing things to him, he's not doing things to us. I just wouldn't let you do things like that to me."

"Of course you wouldn't Jason. That's the difference between you and a slut like little Nicky here. Sluts have no pride, or dignity, or sense of shame. Like I said, mere animals."

"For God's sake boy," he snarled turning his attention to Nicky who was standing in a growing pool of brownish soapy water his hands clasping the cheeks of his rump together in a desperate effort to stem the leakage from his bottom, "get to the bucket before you shit all over the floor."

Nicky squatted over the bucket emptying a mixture of soapy water and shit into it a picture of boyish misery and humiliation. Mister Toby stood looking down at him for a long moment and then turned away an expression of cold contempt on his face.

"If we don't do something about it," he remarked pulling out a drawer in one of the cupboards and rummaging in it., "Trapper will have his cock up the brat's arse."

"There we are Jason," he said lifting out an open box full of an assortment of butt plugs of various colours and sizes and placing it on the cupboard top. He stirred the contents of the box with his index finger frowning in thought as he did so.

"This one should do I think," he said eventually making his selection and holding up a vaguely carrot shaped cone of shiny black plastic, about an inch [1 inch = 2.5 cm] and half wide at its widest tapering to a rounded point over its four half inch or so length. Gently tapered for most of its length it narrowed abruptly just before finishing in a broad flange with a stainless steel washer set it in its end from which hung a length of fine metal chain.

"That should stretch his boy cunt a bit but not too much and we need something to anchor it in place and to cool the little whore down otherwise the way he's going he"ll be squirting boy juice all the time."

Toby pulled another box out of another drawer this time filled with shiny metal cock rings. Again he stirred them with his forefinger before choosing an adjustable ring made on the same principle as an ordinary jubilee clip with a small lockable metal ring set on the back of its cylinder.

"There we, are that should do. Now come up here fuck boy and get up over the table."

Grabbing Nicky by one thin arm he threw him roughly face down across the table.

"Spread your legs and get your arse up in the air boy," he ordered flipping the back of his hand up between Nicky's legs delivering a stringing blow into his crutch.

Nicky whimpered and wriggled desperately pushing his bottom up in an attempt to avoid yet another blow.

"Get round the other side of the table and pin his shoulders down Jason," Toby ordered as he set to work once again sponging Nicky's bottom clean.

For a time there was silence apart from the occasional splash of water and the soft lust charged murmurs wrung from the brat by Toby's prying fingers.

"You know," Toby said eventually straightening and administering a hefty open handed smack on Nicky's invitingly displayed bare rump, "I reckon the whore's bottom almost well enough healed to take a further instalment of the caning due to him. It's still bruised and no doubt sore but there's no broken skin and that's the important thing. He's meant to have a sore bottom. "

"A very sore bottom indeed after the cane," he added laughing heartily as he took a firm grip of one buttock and squeezed hard.

"I'll just grease his arse hole up and get the butt plug into him. Keep a firm grip of him. He'll feel this a bit more."

Toby picked up an open jar of Vaseline from where it rested on the top of one of the cupboards and dipped his index finger into it. Nicky shuddered in excitement as Toby gently smeared a generous dollop of grease along his anus lips

"Steady, steady boy," Toby said gently slipping his free hand I under the boy's hip and gripping him by the testicles.

Nicky made an odd sound, part moan, part sex driven whimper, as Toby increased the pressure of his finger tip on the entry to Nicky's boy cunt. "Relax it whore, come on push out, push, just like you're shitting, Let it in boy, you know you want it," Toby urged softly.

"There we are, good little whore," Toby crooned as he pressed the tip of his finger into the boy.

His voice had taken on a strange quality, unlike the sharp rough tones that he usually used to Nicky, it was soft, almost crooning, designed to reassure and encourage rather than to command.

"Look at the slut pushing his bottom up, Jason," Toby murmured, "he's aching for the feel of man cock inside him. You'll have to wait a while longer sweety, we're just getting you ready for it. This is the best you're going to get for the moment cunt boy, make the most of it."

Slowly he forced his finger deeper into the boy. The first joint, the second joint disappeared into the brat's quivering rump, Then the full length soon the man's index finger was buried in the boy's arse his knuckle pressing hard against the curve of the boy's bottom. Grinning Toby twisted his finger while the boy stretched naked over the table writhed and whimpered in excitement.

Toby eased his finger out of the boy. There was an audible plop as he drew it clear of Nicky's bottom.

He wiped his finger dry against the side of Nicky's rump. The boy's bottom had been washed out so thoroughly that the action left only the faintest brown stain against the pale skin of the boy's bum. He dipped the fore and index fingers of his right hand in the jar of lubricant before pressing them both into Nicky's body. This time real pain gave the boy's lust induced murmurings a noticeably sharper edge.

"And in it goes," Toby said quickly pulling his fingers out of the boy's bum, picking up the black plug and sliding its tip into the boy's briefly gaping hole. There was a sharp cry of pain from Nicky as the man forced the plug into him momentarily stretching his hole more than it had ever been stretched before. This was cut short as Toby buried the plug up to its flange in Nicky forcing the thickest part of the plug past his sphincter that closed behind it anchoring the plastic plug in place.

"OK on your feet," Toby ordered landing an explosive open handed slap on the tightly stretched skin of the boy's rump.

Toby slipped the cock ring in place and bending adjusted the bolt in its cylinder, tightening the metal band around the root of the boy's testicles. Nicky's cock starved of blood began to shrink and grow limp. There was a faint clink of metal as Toby reaching between the boy's legs caught hold of the short length of fine chain hanging from the base of the butt plug and drew it back towards himself before securing it to the ring at the back of the cylinder.

"Now round you come boy," Mister Toby said guiding Nicky round so he was facing away from him with a hand on one bare boy shoulder.

Mister Toby bent down and taking a firm grip hold of the length of thin chain hanging from the base of the plug buried in Nicky's behind gave it a sharp jerk. Nicky yelped loudly. "Seems to be firmly anchored in the boy," Toby remarked to Jason giving the chain a couple of more hefty yanks as he spoke. "Anyway the chain is secured to the back of his cock ring and it's too short to allow the plug to be drawn out.

"Unless," he added wit a short laughter, "that is whoever is doing it is prepared to rip his balls off."

"Come on back yougo boy, face down across the table."

"Yes, I thought so," he continued running his hand over the boy's exposed bottom, "still considerable bruising but no broken skin. No reason why he shouldn't have the second instalment of his caning tomorrow sometime. His bottom will be sore and it'll hurt like hell but that's no reason to postpone it further, quite the reverse in fact.."

"Still perhaps it is just as well to do something to ease the bruising. The cane will certainly split his flesh but it would be as well to keep that to a minimum if we are to inflict the full punishment before he leaves here."

"Jason would you pass me the tube of Hirudoid Cream from the top of the cupboard there. The large white tube with blue lettering and the red band round its top."

"That's it," Toby said taking the tube and squeezing a generous portion of its contents over his hands he set about spreading the cool viscous cream over Nicky's deeply bruised bottom, his fingers kneading the boy's discoloured flesh.

"Uncle Toby," Jason asked as the man "can I give Nicky the six cuts of the cane that's coming to him tomorrow."

Toby amused by the keenness of the young boy laughed and ruffled his hair.

"Of course you can Jason," he said laughing, "in fact I think you should be put in charge of training and disciplining the slut. It would be good preparation for when you visit the Island this Christmas Vacation and it will be good for Nicky to be broken to service by a younger boy. He may resent you at first but in the end his surrender will be more complete and more absolute."

"Now Jason, run up to the house please and find Mister William and ask him to come down here. Tell him We are about to treat Nicky's feet and that's going to hurt him so much that it'll take all three of us to hold him down."

"O.k. Uncle Toby," Jason said and scampered from the room.

Toby continued for a few minutes longer to work the cream into Nicky's deeply bruised and sore bum.

Nicky lay face down across the table, his feet just touching the floor on one side his unsupported head hanging down on the other, sore, frightened and exhausted and aching, with hunger. And yet he was excited by the feel of. Mister Toby's hands on his bottom spreading the cool cream cool over his burning bottom. Despite all this and the tight cock restricting the flow of blood to his testicles he could feel his cock yet again swelling and growing hard and he hated and despised himself for it.

Mister Toby was right when he called him a slut. For all the abuse and humiliation he had suffered at Mister Toby's hands he seemed to have almost a constant erection. He had last count of the number of times he had orgasmed. He could feel at that moment the damp stickiness of the last time under his bare tummy and the way the blood was pounding in his prick another one would not be long delayed.

No normal boy would respond to the abuse that had been inflicted on him on that way. A normal boy would fight and resist and even if he could not win he would not get excited by it. Only a slut would react in that way. His body betrayed him, it was telling him and it was telling the world he was not normal. He was a slut, a fuck boy, a whore.

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