The Contract (elandra and Airindel)
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Bondage, D/s, S&amp;M =&gt; Bondage: Human Solos =&gt; Topic started by: Elandra on 30-03-2008, 23:10:04</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Contract (elandra and Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>30-03-2008, 23:10:04</strong>
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				Tedium and boredom. He hated long trips and this was one of the longest he had experience, but the coin and reputation would be worth it, if he could straighten this dandy. The young man was foppish, irreverent and disobedient, traits the guardian abhorred. A wicked gleam sparkling in his eye, to train this one would be a notch in his crop he would have been willing to acquire without a single coin changing hands. He had been a thorn in his side, continuously encouraging the King’s youngest son to abandon his discipline.<br><br>The carriage lurched to halt. Reaching out, he opened the well oiled door, it swinging wide and stopping just before hitting against the dark oak panels, the cord that held it in place, pulling taut. The day was gloomy, overcast; rain had threatened, but would hold off until he had entered the manor as if he were God himself. Standing, he exited the stark carriage, his black books gleaming; he had shined them this morning as he did every morning. <br><br>Back straight, his boots crunching the gravel as he approached the massive door, it opening before he knocked. His jet black hair was combed to perfection, not a hair was misplaced, his black eyes a reflection of any that dared to stare within them. ”Ethan Wayne Jeffrey, my Lord,” he said, his voice deep, confident, as he gave the man his hand. Others, lesser men would have bowed before the nobleman, but Ethan never did so, not even to the King and he was never questioned or chastised because of it.<br><br>His woolen suit was tailored, fit perfectly, not a thread or piece of lint was upon it, despite having ridden in a carriage for hours, his knee high boots were polished, and the signature riding crop, tucked underneath his left arm. Gruffly, the Duke grabbed the guardian’s hand, shaking it with strength, ”Duke Edward James Phillip Albury-Hughes, please come in.”<br><br>A sly grin slid across his lips and he followed the noble into his home, boots resounding against the stone foyer. He noticed everything, the portraits of past Duke, the wealth that was displayed, the lack of a woman’s touch, nothing was missed. Entering the study, he took the offered bourbon, swirling in the snifter before sipping from the ruddy liquid. <br><br>Gazing upon the Duke, as they sat upon the brown leather chairs, the guardian’s facing the only door, he asked simply, ”You understand my contract is binding, once we sign it, my word in regards to your son is unquestioned, if I choose to take him over my knee or strap him to a pole and beat him, that is my prerogative. One year and a day, he will be a son you will be proud of, one who will bring no shame to the Albury-Hughes name.”<br><br>The Duke paused; surprised the guardian was so blunt, though he had been warned by the King that the guardian was blunt to the point of crassness. ”I understand,” he said, handing the signed contract to the guardian. <br><br>”Have you told Tristan or am I about to be amused by the shock in his eyes?” Ethan asked, showing emotion for the first time.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Contract (elandra and Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>01-04-2008, 20:01:03</strong>
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				Tristan languidly stretched under the voluptuous blonde, the one whom straddled him, the one whom offered him sensual delights throughout the night and into the mid-morning, and lazily he watched the succulent jouncing movements of her heavy breasts. His one fingertip played over the large rosy nipple, his touch instantly hardening the delicate skin, and he leaned up to suckle on it rather talented for a trickle of milk pooled onto his warm tongue. The sweetness alone of the woman's milk, the sugary taste,&nbsp; made the young gentleman moan and tenderly he pulled his friend's mother closer to him so that he could continue to drink from her while she gently fucked him.<br><br>&nbsp;“Christ, Tristan, you're delightful.” The Baroness Catherine purred out, her voice near breathless as she shifted her body, and Tristan's dark eyes, those that were not a pure green or brown, a muddled hazel colour with the longest lashes that curled around them peered up at her, and playfully he teased her breast, his teeth barely grazing across her nipple.<br><br>&nbsp;“An excellent teacher I have,” Tristan murmured into supple skin that was perfumed with rose oil, and before he had the opportunity to roll Catherine onto her back, to settle between her legs, to properly make love with her, a footman entered Tristan's inner private chamber which startled the entwined lovers. Froze with awkwardness, Tristan did, and he pulled the silk sheets up to give his Baroness comfort in some decency and modesty although the woman hardly knew the meanings of either word. Only then did Tristan run his hand through his mop of curling blond hairs and without a word said, she blankly stared at his well paid servant.<br><br>&nbsp;“<em>He</em> is here, Tristan! You must ready yourself for the day and greet him properly. There isn't much time! Hurry, and get up! Look sharp, please, my lord!” The servant blathered, begging and beseeching, and he went to the wardrobe to open it; fussed over waistcoats and breeches John did, and in Tristan's ear, the Baroness tried to suppress her giggles. &nbsp;“I was given no warning of <em>his</em> employment either, and I believe it is meant to surprise you, and quite frankly, I will not have you surprised by this damnable man.”<br><br>Dumbfounded, Tristan's gaze fell upon his manservant. &nbsp;“John!” Tristan snapped out and hurled a crystal ashtray at him, which, being thrown in his off hand missed John terribly, but not the window which shattered into hundreds of pieces. &nbsp;“Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” Tristan shouted out, stunned at his wretched aim, and leapt from the bed abandoning his lover. He stood there naked, strikingly aristocratic and elegant; his lean body was well muscled from leisurely sport, golden from the sun's rays, and at the age of seventeen years, all who saw him knew that he would age into a devilishly handsome man. &nbsp;“What the hell has gotten into you? You're behaving like a half-wit hampered with the effects of drink!”<br><br>&nbsp;“Your father hired one Mr. Ethan Wayne Jeffrey, a private tutor who is renown not for the grand education that he offers, and indeed the man has superior intelligence, but for the discipline that coincides with it.” John informed Tristan, and threw a handful of undergarments at him, and although it occurred to John that Tristan was unaware of Mr. Jeffrey's employment and reputation, he was at the very least pleased to see Tristan dressing himself for the day. As that occurred, the Baroness slipped from Tristan's bed, her belly somewhat rounded from the child she birthed four months ago, and she too dressed and departed, but not before bestowing a kiss on her favourite lover's lips.<br><br>As the Baroness strolled down the staircase, and passed not only the Duke Albury-Hughes, but the new tutor, Tristan peered over the banister and gazed at the beauty once more. &nbsp;“When may I call upon you next?” He asked after her, taking a few steps down the staircase, but she laughed.<br><br>&nbsp;“I fear from the expressions on your father's face and his companion, never, my dear Tristan.” Catherine giggled out, and with a wave, she took her leave of the Albury-Hughes manor house; Tristan, on the stairs, swore, and darted back up to his room cursing his new found circumstances while he dressed.<br><br>&nbsp;<br><br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Contract (elandra and Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>06-04-2008, 02:52:39</strong>
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				Not a word was spoken, the guardian sat there in silence, his business with the Duke completed, Duke Albury-Hughes on the other hand spoke continuously of his worth to the King, he was ignored. The interruption of the shattering of glass was a small irritation, one that did not show upon his features as he sat stoically awaiting his charge’s appearance. If he was annoyed about being forced to wait, his demeanor was devoid of it or any emotion. The Duke cringed.<br><br>The darkly clad man rose, his perfectly creased pants falling perfectly in place, tucked into his boots. He stood tall. The Duke, raising a head above the guardian, seemed tiny, insignificant beside him despite being in his own manor.<br><br>Stepping out of the study, he watched as the harlot strode through the hallway and towards the door, the scent of sex wafting after her as her bosom fought to burst from her blouse. Good riddance. <br><br>Nodding once to the Duke, he climbed the steps, each footfall deliberate as his boots solidly upon the centuries’ worn wood. He barged into the boy’s room as if he owned the place, banishing the servant before a word was spoken.<br><br>Alone with Tristan, the dandy still nude, clothes strewn across his bed, some haphazardly laying upon the floor, the tutor hastily crossed the bedroom, riding crop resting against his side. When he was close, he whipped it out and struck him across his left cheek not too hard, but enough to leave a red mark against his bronzed skin. It was without warning; Ethan took no pleasure in it.<br><br>Calmly, he spoke, expecting to be obeyed without question, ”Take me to the courtyard now. You will show me how well you can defend against the sword.” If the boy attempted to dress himself, he would again be struck by the crop, the tutor eyes dark as he nodded toward the door.<br><br>As they waltzed through the manor and toward the courtroom, Ethan remained behind him, watching the muscles rippled underneath the boy’s skin, there was potential he could see it, if only there were focus. Not in the least was he embarrassed at Tristan’s nudity, uncaring of his plight.<br><br>Entering the courtyard, a chilly wind whipped up his cloak as he removed it and placed upon the low stone fence, his crop lying neatly across it. He watched as a servant presented the Duke’s son a wooden practice sword, attempting to ignore his predicament as he turned and offered the tutor the second of the two swords. <br><br>Swinging a couple times in the air, he nodded his satisfaction as it whistled and he took a pose. ”Attack!” The first attack was clumsy, easily defended against, Ethan striking the young man’s left arm and returning to his defensive stance. ”Again!”<br><br>Barely was he trying as he twisted his wrist this way and that, defending each of the strikes easily as he watched the boy’s movements, his footing, the muscles in his shoulders. Constantly he slapped his sword against his skin, reminding him that the best attack also includes defending oneself. It was not long before several servant girls could be spotted in a high up window staring down at the exercise, giggling as they pointed at Tristan.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Contract (elandra and Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Airindel</strong> on <strong>14-04-2008, 21:07:56</strong>
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				Three blazing red welts seared across Tristan's bare skin, all in a neat row one underneath the other, and all from attempts to dress; wear them well he did even through the discomfort that needled him, and made him clench his teeth. The young man had endured worse from his father, however, and indeed, Tristan was bold enough to strut into the yard with his new tutor, or so he assumed it was the tutor that John had blathered furiously about, for his body was handsome, roped with defined muscles and he did not know of a single servant girl or woman who had not seen it before or had the pleasure of knowing him personally. A bright smile was given to Mary, the girl whom chased the geese with a staff, and one was given to the gardener whom was more than appreciative of a young man's body.<br><br>&nbsp;“Practice defending myself?” Tristan repeated with a chuckle. Hardly did he ever need to defend himself, but he picked up the stave and gripped it loosely as his eyes roamed over the hard features of his tutor. Had it been earlier in the morning, he would have held contempt for the pretentious ass, but as it were, the Baroness had given Tristan enough pleasure to last until the morrow's eve at the very least and a silly grin Tristan wore on his young handsome face. With a sigh of boredom, he attacked thoughtless, aimlessly and without effort; the tutor's stave hit his arm, rapped his knuckles, bruised his skin, but Tristan could not be bothered with instruction. He thought about a meal.<br><br>His empty tummy rumbled at the thought of bacon, sausage and eggs all served with fresh bread and brandied pears. <br><br>&nbsp;“Fuck!” He muttered under his breath in disgust at the determination of this vile tutor, a man who did not know his station in life, and as Tristan turned to rethink some strategy, now that his muscles were sore, he noticed the maids lazily peering out the windows and he could not help but to bow to them. Further giggles could be heard, and a few waved at him, or were saucy enough to blow a kiss. &nbsp;“Good morning, ladies! A splendid morning I wish to you.” Tristan turned to glare at the tutor with vexation and annoyance.<br><br>Tristan wanted to break his fast and indolently fret the remaining morning away. The tutor was preventing it, and with a bright winsome smile Tristan approached the man once more. A move was cleverly feinted, one he learned in the back alleys, and Tristan drove his fist and hilt into the gut of the man. It was enough to feel, but not enough to hurt; the intention was to alert the man of his competence and disdain, not to injure. &nbsp;“I grow bored of this, and I am hungry. See me after my meal and we will discuss my school of fencing.” Tristan spat out in a low whisper, took a stride or two away from him and threw the stave away, discarded it, and walked towards the kitchen doors.<br><br>He longed for bacon.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Contract (elandra and Airindel)</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Elandra</strong> on <strong>20-05-2008, 05:48:39</strong>
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				After he had successfully landed several thwacks to the young noble’s upper thigh, noting how he was extremely guarded when it came to his manhood, the guardian had stepped back and allowed Tristan to catch his breath. Instead he had the audacity to spend the time bowing for the servant girls who and stating a few what he probably thought were charming words toward them. Ire raised, he fought to keep it from his voice, a task he was not completely successful at, menace seeping through as he spoke the sardonic words, ” Fancy yourself a ladies' man, do you Tristan?” Little did the lad know that he would not have the pleasure of the woman unless he could please the guardian with daily marked improvements.<br><br>Their sparring continued until Tristan had had enough and used a move the tutor had never seen before, but one he would never fall for again. Left gasping for breath for mere moments, the briefest of smiles adorned his lips before it vanished, leaving behind a stoic frown as he straightened his back and watched the insolent child take a few steps from him. Shaking his head ever so slightly he took a few large strides and pushed the young Albury-Hughes against a thick post, holding them there by shear upper body strength, with nary a way to escape.<br><br>”Perhaps you do not understand the gravity of your situation, boy. For the next year and a day, everything you do is at my discretion. Everything. This includes but is not limited to, eating, sleeping and shitting.” He stated each word slowly and clearly, staring directly into Tristan’s hazel eyes without blinking, before continuing, ”If you disobey my orders, your punishment is also at my discretion.” Modest about all things, he did not feel it necessary to inform Tristan that his punishments were far more severe than any the noble’s father had even dreamed of performing.<br><br>"Am I making myself clear or do you need to run to your daddy and verify my words as true?" The words dripped of sarcasm and challenge. 
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