“She was not satisfied with this, so she got the chaps to dip me into a pool of muddy water with my bottom, and while they did that, she put her hand in and splashed it all over my cock and belly.
“She hasn't forgotten about this. When I came up to the Manor House, she told the other people about it. I was in the scullery once, helping her to wipe some dishes. Walter was there and she was telling him all about it. I wonder if he's got the marks still?' she said.
“'Shall we look?' asked Walter.
“'Yes, we will,' she cried, and they got hold of me and let down my breeches. He held me while she looked at me and pulled out my cock with her wet hands.
“Walter is rather fond of her. I caught them one day in the pantry. He had his arm around her and was trying to get his hand under her clothes. I gave a shout to frighten them and then slipped off into the servants' hall. When I saw Walter, he shook his fist at me and swore he would pay me back. In the afternoon I went over to the stable and found Walter there.
“As soon as he saw me, he remembered the affair of the morning and made a dart for me. I ran up towards the stairs, but before I could reach them, I was caught by one of the grooms, who asked Walter if he wanted to get me.
“Walter told the other what I had done, making a lot out of it, so as to get them to side with him. They undressed me and tied me up to a beam. Then Walter got a bucket of flour and water and pasted me all over with a big brush.
“While the stuff was wet, they threw a lot of chaff and chopped straw over me, and this stuck to my skin, and I dare say make me look funny. They let me wash myself, but I can tell you, I did not feel comfortable for a few days afterwards.”
Joe's information served to excite my interest.
I looked him over thinking perhaps he would help divert me in my bored state. Upon inspection, he did not prove ill-looking at all. In fact, he was rather darkly handsome, reminding me a bit of Gaston de Beaupre whom I missed very dearly. He had broader shoulders than Gaston, and longer hair, as the peasants in these parts wear it, but it was every bit as silky and black as Gaston's. He had strong workman's legs and narrow hips. I could tell by his stories of trouble that he was as yet quite innocent of the pleasures of the flesh. I was tired of wanking off each night, and upon regarding him as pleasing, I hatched a mischievous plan. “Joe, have you ever had your cock pulled on?” I asked innocently.
“Only by Walter and Alice, and they hurt it!” he cried.
“Pull it out and I will show you a way in which it can be yanked without hurting. In fact, it will afford you a great deal of pleasure if you let me show you.”
“Oh! No sir!” he exclaimed and pulled away from me.
I decided to be patient with him, and I said smoothly, “Well then, come here and have a yank on mine. Your stories of 'cock lane' have given me a regular cockstand.” And with that, I reached out and grabbed his hand, bringing it to my crotch. He instinctively obeyed me and gave it a squeeze or two. Judging by the deftness of his touch, I'd say that he'd had plenty of wanks on his own. But then he reddened in the face and turned and ran.
That night I had lascivious dreams of Joe's dark flesh mingling with my own. I dreamed that I forced my cock into his virgin asshole, and though he cried out, he writhed with pleasure underneath my stabbing thrusts with my cock. I woke determined to have him, as I found that I had actually come in my sleep, so great was the pleasure of merely dreaming of fucking him.
I was returning from a ride that afternoon and Joe approached me as if to help me dismount as I arrived in the stable.
“Hullo Joe!” I greeted him.
“Let me help you, sir,” murmured Joe as he reached up toward me.
I nodded and allowed him to unseat me, taking note at the way he handled my posterior as I jumped down from the horse, “Thank you, Joe.”
“You're most welcome, sir,” said Joe, and he added, “You have grown a bit since you have come back home, I've noticed. It wears well on you if I may say so.”
“If you mean I've become fat and lazy since I've been here, you're right indeed, Joe,” I grinned. “Perhaps you will help to put me into better form. I'd bet I should learn a lot from a man as hard and strapping as you.”
He just looked down at the ground shyly. Upon glimpsing his handsome face and compact and well muscled body, I felt my cock stir, immediately fuelled by the images from my nights' dreaming.
“Come closer Joe. I can hardly see you.” Joe approached and when he looked up from the ground, I could see a sly grin had come across his full lips.
“Let us compare ourselves,” I went on, drawing upon an idea that would have made de Beaupre proud, “that I might become inspired to maintain my slipping shape.”
Joe held up his arm and bent it at the elbow for me to feel the width and firmness of his biceps through his shirtsleeve. The sensation was that of touching and squeezing smooth stone layered over with the softest of cotton fabrics. I tested his other arm and shoulder to equal satisfaction. “Now give my own poor arms a squeeze, though I am afraid they hold a dim light to your own.”
“Oh, Sir Powerscourt,” said Joe as he drew his hands down upon my shoulders and over the upper part of my arms. “You do yourself a disservice with your modesty. Why, a few days of hard work here about the farm – and away from your father's line of sight – and your great limbs shall be easily bigger and harder than my own.”
“Do you really think so?” I said as I moved my hands to the button at the collar of his shirt. “But what of this superb breast of yours? Take down your suspenders while I open your shirt to make my point. You breast is a tailor's dream, that's for certain. Do you see how wide and firm it is this way, and how well-defined these pectorals are? It is small wonder the girls at the manor throw you upon tables and strip your bare!”
“Oh sir! You flatter me so,” said Joe as he blushed, bare-chested, and then swallowed my bait. “But let us see your own body beneath that riding jacket. I would bet it is just as handsome as you say is my own, if not more so.”
This young man who had so recently haunted my nights' dreams was now cheerfully setting to work undoing the buttons of my shirt, even as I pulled my riding jacket away and tossed it to the side. Tugging the tails from my pants and spreading the clean fabric away to reveal my corpus to his critical eye, he paused there gazing at me, unknowingly sending electrical thrills into my loins.
“Hmm, you may have softened a bit after all, Master Charles,” said Joe as he slid his hands from the tight and firm expanse of my chest down to the plump flesh which had freshly accumulated 'round my waist and over the muscles of my belly. “We shall take care of that, and in no time at all, I promise.
“But I see,” he added with a whisper, “that some parts of you shall remain hard in even the most trying of times.”
He came very close, and reached down between my thighs and gave my cock a strong squeeze through the fabric of my pants.
“Joe!” I laughed huskily, “Your state of mind has changed considerably from yesterday. What has come over you?” I asked as he continued to grope around my breeches and was reaching inside for my throbbing prick.
“Well, sir,” he replied bashfully, “I just thought that perhaps you were going to trick me like the others. Like Walter and Alice.”
“Oh no, Joe,” I said, pulling him up closer. “I just wanted to have some fun.” And with that I reached down between his thighs to find that his cock was erect as well, and to my pleasure I discovered that he was very liberally endowed.
I let him kneel in front of me, as he seemed to desire to do so, and take out my cock. He fell to looking it over quite curiously, all the while stroking it.
“Let me have a look at yours, Joe. I should like to see it!”
He did not display any objection, but immediately took his cock out and exhibited it to me without reserve. I took hold of his long cock and hungrily began to stroke it, bringing it almost immediately to a stand.