From Husband to slave Part 7 -- Hugh continues to learn
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Guy took a few minutes to recover from his intense orgasm, before instructing Hugh to put in the butt plug he had bought to keep Master's spunk inside his boy for as long as possible.' Hugh complied, albeit taking his time due to shaky legs and a tender arse - inside and out. Seeing Guy's eyes were closed, he lay back on the bed and snuggled up to his Master, feeling very content. They both dozed for a while until Guy nudged Hugh and gave the order clean me up.' He had read that a lot of Masters insisted their slaves clean their cocks with their tongues after being fucked, but he preferred a warm flannel followed by a fluffy towel. Hugh carried out the order with utmost care, gladly soaking up the feeling of contentment from his Master. However, as soon as Guy's cock was clean and dry, the next order came. "Time for you to start Sunday lunch." Hugh looked down at his still damp jockstrap and the dried spunk on his hairy stomach. Guy followed Hugh's eyes, chuckling. "No need to clean yourself up, I want you smelling of sex as you cook for me." "Yes Master" replied Hugh, smiling as he headed for the kitchen.
While Hugh was cooking, dressed only in his stained jock and clean apron, Guy called several times for drink top ups or to plump a pillow. Hugh obediently ran in each time, dropping to his knees as he entered the room. On the 3rd call he was just taking the chicken out of the oven and so took a little longer to run in. "Lucky for you we're on `soft opening' rules" said Guy slowly, "you didn't react instantly to my call. That would have cost you 2 strokes of the belt if I weren't being lenient." "Sorry Master, I was just taking the chicken out of the oven and.." Guy interrupted, "and impertinent excuses like that would have cost another 2 strokes." "Yes Master" said Hugh meekly, still on his knees. "Now top up this wine, pronto." Hugh obeyed and went back to the kitchen to continue cooking. Just before all the food was ready, Hugh went into the dining room to set the table. It was old fashioned, but he and Guy always got out the silver, crystal and linen napkins for Sunday lunch, even if it was just the 2 of them. On autopilot, Hugh laid 2 places on the antique dining table. He was just folding the second napkin when Guy walked past the dining room door on the way to his study. He glanced in, spotting the 2 table settings. He launched into the room, "what the fuck do you think you are doing, slaveboy?" he shouted in Hugh's face, whilst swiping silver cutlery, a place mat and folded napkin onto the floor. "Setting the table, Sir" replied a startled Hugh, wondering what an earth he had done wrong. "You've read the contract" continued Guy in a calmer voice "it clearly states that eating at Master's table is a privilege. Did you ask my permission to join me?." "No Sir" replied Hugh, eyes down.
Guy grabbed Hugh by the ear, marched him back into the kitchen and bent him over the kitchen island. He grabbed a wooden spatula and beat his slave's already bruised and striped arse with it until a contrite Hugh was begging for mercy. When Guy felt the lesson had been learnt, he stopped and quietly told Hugh to go back into the dining room and re-set his place. Punishment over, the privilege had been reinstated. Crying with pain and humiliation, Hugh slid himself off the counter onto the floor and briefly kissed each of Guy's feet before going to carry out his orders.
They hardly spoke at lunch, even though Guy had given Hugh the `at ease' order which meant he could speak freely to Guy as long as he continued to use the respectful Sir or Master. Hugh picked at the roast chicken, that he normally enjoyed so much. He backside was really hurting still, not helped by the unforgiving seat pad on his Georgian dining chair and he was dwelling on his own lack of attention to the rules. He vowed to himself to try harder to please Guy and finally managed a smile. "Pudding, Sir?"
Guy smiled back. He had been doing some dwelling too, conflicted between wanting to train his slave properly and deep sympathy for the red-assed, red-eyed man sitting next to him. "Yes please," he replied, pulling Hugh's head down to his seated level for a kiss. "Carrot and stick" he thought to himself, smiling again.
Hugh was a model slave for the rest of the day, allowed to relax with Guy when he wasn't sorting his gym kit for the morning or peeling fruit and vegetables for Guy's smoothie the next morning. Guy told Hugh it was time for bed and that he should clean his teeth, then wait on all fours for his Master. Guy followed 10 minutes later, ignoring Hugh's naked form and took his time cleaning his own teeth. He sat on a low bench and beckoned Hugh over his knee. Even in the dimmed light of the bedside lamps, he could see that Hugh's arse was quite bruised, so gave the minimum bedtime spanking of 6 whacks with his bare hand. As soon as Guy said quietly, "That's enough for tonight" Hugh slipped off his lap and started to kiss his Master's feet in thanks for his 3rd beating of the day. Guy was never normally horny on a Sunday evening, thoughts of a busy working week uppermost in his mind, but the sight and sensation of Hugh worshipping his feet, bruised, red bum in the air as he did so, made him surprisingly hard. "While you're down there, boy" he said and Hugh got his meaning at once, kneeling up and starting to lap at his Master's balls, before moving his tongue slowly up Guy's hard shaft. Once he got to work properly taking his Master's beautiful cock down his throat, Guy told him he was allowed to wank. A grateful Hugh grabbed his cock and worked it with one hand whilst fondling Guy's balls with the other. Guy came suddenly without warning, but Hugh did not spill a drop and the taste of his Master's cum set off his own ejaculation onto Guy's bare feet and ankles. He wasted no time in licking them clean before they both climbed into bed.
End of part 7