Hardly Blackmail

But I found he wasn't wrong. "Yes, yes. Fuck me!" I cried out in passion.

Withdrawal, and he turned me on the seat, slapping me twice across the face, first one way and then the other. His hands grasped my ankles again and returned them to his shoulders, now the two of us facing each other. His face was close to mine in the dimness of the light in the moving, lurching, swaying carriage. His eyes were wild with rage and lust. He lifted his cane, putting the golden knob of it between my face and his. He was leering.

The cane was lowered and disappeared. He clutched my throat with the other hand, pressing my head into the back of the leather-covered bench. I felt the coldness of the gold knob at my entrance and then I was writhing and panting and sobbing and screaming, as he forced the knob inside me and fucked me with it. He pushed it in deep.

"Fuck! FUCK! FUUCKK!" I writhed on the cane nob, my body moving in cadence with his manipulation of the cane inside me, rubbing against every surface of my passage. The horror of it settled in to full arousal, and I rolled my hips, fucking the cane.

I collapsed into whimpers and sobs, completely open to him--his totally--when he pulled the knob of the cane out of my passage, mounted and entered me again with his cock-ring-crowned shaft, and fucked and fucked me.

Before he was finished, he released my wrists and stretched me out along the bench on my back. Whimpering and moaning low, I became completely docile for him. When he touched my inner thighs, I spread them for him. He ran his hands up and down my inner thighs.

"So soft," he murmured.

I whimpered and increased my spread, involuntarily lifting my tail as he hands moved under me, covering my buttocks cheeks and gently squeezing and parting them. He leaned over and kissed the tip of the glans of my engorged cock. I moaned deeply and he kissed me there. The golden head of his cane was still buried in my ass.

"Please, please," I murmured.

"Please what?" he asked.

"Please fuck me."

He laughed, grasped my ankles, and bent my legs, placing my feet flat on the bench. A leather pillow went under the small of my back, elevating and rolling my pelvis up. Leaning over me as the carriage rolled on and on in the night, he fucked me with the golden knob of the cane again, deeper this time, while he fisted my cock, in erection, and stroked me to a release.

When I had come for him, Drakos extracted the cane and knelt between my spread knees.

"Now," he whispered.

Hovering over me, he put his cockhead in position again. I gasped and whispered, "Yes, yes, yes" as he entered me and moved up inside my passage, stretching me once again to his need. One of his hands clutched my throat, holding me to the bench surface while the other one moved between us, grasping my cock, and stroking me off again to the rhythm of his languid, deep-penetration fuck. Young and easily reloading as well as being in high heat, I hardened again. I ran my hands inside his gaping silk shirt and grasped his bare shoulder tips underneath, the pressure and release of my fingertips on the flesh of his biceps matching the rhythm of his thrusts. Digging the heels of my feet into the leather of the seat, I put my hips into slow motion, rocking with the cadence of his thrusts.

I came again, between our bellies. When he breeded me in one, two, three tensings, jerks, and flows, it was like a series of waves rolling over me, engulfing me.

"Oh, fuck, yes!" I involuntarily sang out.

Once more I saw the cane, with its golden head being raised again above me. "Please, please," I begging, once again not knowing even myself whether I wanted him to stop using and abusing me or I wanted more. But the cane wasn't for me.

I could feel him withering inside me, as he raised the cane and thumped the knob, repeatedly, on the carriage roof, the signal to take me back to where he had picked me up--when I had willingly climbed into his carriage.

He hadn't, of course, known I'd entered the carriage willingly. He thought he had power over me now. He did, but not of the kind he thought. He had the power of the master over a willing sex slave, created such by the power of the man's cocking, not his business position.

* * * *

The carriage ride was in May. The bank granted the infusion of money into Uncle Horace's glass works, and the business expanded and thrived. The carriage was not waiting for me when I left work again. Georgios Drakos hadn't come for me again. Neither had I come for him or sought him out. I had no idea really where to find him. I didn't even know the name of his bank. Beyond this, I believed that he would not want me if I sought him out. I think the hunt and the conquering were what completed him.

I continued going to the Turkish bath a couple of times a week, where I opened my legs to men and let them fuck me. Drakos didn't appear there again when I was there. The sex from strangers in the baths was satisfactory, but it wasn't fully satiating--not after the danger and cruelty of being mastered by Georgios Drakos had been. Life was tolerable, if it didn't send my heart racing. It was what it was, though.

In July Horace gave all of the employees two extra days off to celebrate the July 4th holiday and he invited my parents and me out to his Long Island estate for the long weekend. He and my aunt lived in an area with horse farms. They did so because my aunt, who refused to come into New York at all because the tall buildings they were building there frightened her, kept horses. I had been welcomed to come out and ride and I did so when I wanted to mull something over in my mind.

We were all sitting around on their porch, drinking lemonade and talking, and I was preparing to take one of their horses out for a ride, when I was surprised to see Georgios Drakos ride up on a horse. Uncle Horace wasn't surprised, though. Apparently, he knew that the banker had a country house out on Long Island near where my aunt and uncle lived--and that he often came out to ride.

"So, you've escaped the city too, Georgios," my uncle called out as the banker was about to ride past on the road. Being hailed caused him to stop. I flatter myself by thinking that, seeing me on the porch, dressed for riding, and with a horse saddled and standing out by the porch door, that he recognized an opportunity when he saw it.

"Clara and the girls aren't riding with you?" my aunt called out as Drakos approached the porch.

"They stayed in the city," the banker answered. "The girls wanted to see the July 4th parade on 5th Avenue."

"So, you have to ride alone?" Uncle Horace asked.

"Not if you were about to ride this horse here, Horace," Drakos said. "You could ride with me."

"My nephew here, Warren, was about to go out on the horse. You remember him, don't you?"

"I do indeed remember him well," Drakos said. Even when he asked if my uncle would ride with him, I was sure he knew my uncle wasn't dressed for it and I was. He hadn't rejected me; he just hadn't gotten around to contacting me again.

Drakos smiled at me. "Fancy a ride, Master Warren?" His eyes were sparkling. The others may not have seen the lust in them, but I did.

"I'd like nothing more," I said, rising and moving down the porch steps to the horse I was to ride. "Where shall we--?"

"Perhaps back on my land," he said. "There is shade and privacy."

There indeed were shade and privacy in a remote section of Drakos's estate.

At his direction we rode into a glade of trees and dismounted.

"Hand me your riding whip," he said.

"You have one, there strapped to your saddle," I said.

"I will need them both."

That was true. When I was naked--as before, he opened his shirt to expose his muscular chest and unbuttoned his trousers to release his erection, but he remained dressed otherwise--he used the strands of my hand whip to bind my wrists together. When he had me go down on all fours on the moss under one of the trees, he used his hand whip to whip me until he felt hard enough to mount me.

After he'd fucked me, we lay next to each other, on our backs and stretched out on the moss. We both were panting and moaning in low tones.

"I thought you would not come for me again," I said.

"I couldn't continue that way," he answered.

"What way?"

"The loan. I want young men because I see in them a willingness to let me control and use them as pleases me the most. I saw that in you at the Turkish baths that first time. Then I had to have you. But you became connected with a loan deal. I did have you, but I felt guilty. I thought you went with me so that I would grant the loan. I did not want to have this type of relationship that was based on blackmail."

"Blackmail?" I exclaimed. I had not thought about that at all. "It was hardly blackmail. I didn't go with you the first time because I was frightened. I wasn't frightened about what I knew you wanted from me. I was frightened that it was what I wanted to let you have from me. And if it's blackmailed you are thinking about, that could go against you as well as me--if I had chosen blackmail. I haven't."

"What do you mean?"

"That you have a wife was mentioned just now back at my uncle's house--and that her name is Clara. Also, that you have daughters, but not that there are two of them, one named Candace and the other Cynthia. I know that because I looked you up after the first time you took me. I knew you were a married man with children and I knew you were a bank executive. I have just as much an opportunity to blackmail you for your family and position against your fetish to use young men as you have to blackmail me with my family. That more than offsets, I think, the chance you were blackmailing me on whether my family would receive a bank loan or not."

I let him chew on that for a few minutes, and then I rolled over on top of him, my wrists still bound, and saddled myself on his loins. "To show I totally surrender to you on my own willingness, I will ride you properly now after which you can take and use me by whatever inventive means pleases you."

I descended my passage on his hard cock and rode him in what I'd been told was the cowboy position, knowing that, if he wanted a third fucking out here under the trees, he will have found a taxing and draining way to do it.

"You are an amazing young man," Drakos murmured.

"Why, yes, yes, I am."