“Good morning, boy.”
“Good morning, Sir.”
“How were the waves this morning?”
“Excellent, but a little cold,” he answers, busying himself with making coffee.
“I’m glad you had fun, but what did I tell you to do about the sand off your feet and ankles when you come in the house?”
He gives me a sideways smile and rubs the back of his tanned neck. “To rinse off before I enter the house, Sir.”
“That’s right. So why don’t you?”
“Well, I’m the houseboy. I’m going to be cleaning it up anyway.”
“But do you think I want to walk on sand barefoot in my kitchen and track it into the house, into the carpeted areas? And scratch up my hardwood?”
“I didn’t….” he trails off when he sees my face. “No Sir.”
“You are in my employ. My instructions are not suggestions. I have my reasons.”
“Thank you for the correction, Sir.”
He pours a cup of coffee, adds milk, cream, and sugar, and serves me before tending to his own – straight black joe.
“Thank you.”
He nods.
I take a sip and set down my mug. “Now, put yours down and put your hands on the counter.”
My boy groans. I delight in it. Taming a half feral beach bum has tested my limits sometimes, but I do enjoy enforcing my boundaries. He obeys, because he does not want to end up locked in chastity long-term.
I pluck the spatula out of the utensil holder on the counter.
“20,” I announce.
Another groan. My cock hardens. The first six are gentle thwacks, teasing stings to warm up the chilled flesh. I stroke the skin, admiring how the color returns. Seven is a little harder, and he tenses. I play him this way for a few more swats, each spank the same as the one before it, but sting after sting is making him tender and squirmy. The legs begin to kick. The last five are hard swings that make him cry out and kick up his feet. “19…”
“Ah!”
“20.”
He hisses loudly. “Nnnngg!”
“Very good.” I kiss his back between his shoulder blades then put the paddle in the sink. I walk to the fridge, take out the aloe, and squirt some between my hands. I massage it into his hot flesh, and he whimpers and mews and shudders. “Oh my god Sir – it’s so cold!” he gasps.
“God you are delicious,” I reply, distracted, as I’m nibbling on his shoulder and licking the taste of sea water off hsi skin.
“Sir!” he cries, a high needy note, as I stroke his ass, and then his body shudders. I hear something drip, which is followed by a certain smell. I pull back. “Did you ejaculate?” I check the floor, which is covered in milky drips.
“I- I- ” he stammers.
I reach out and grasp his cock, which is softening. I pull back his foreskin. He gasps. It’s wet.
“Oh you did. That torment got you all horny did it?”
“I just got hard when you spanked me, and when you started rubbing my ass with the cold aloe, I just couldn’t control it!” my boy explained.
“That’s sexy as fuck,” I murmur. I reach above him in the cabinet for the coconut oil. I undo my pants, squirt some onto my cock, and take him against the counter. His cries fuel on my throbbing cock. His butt is still tender and every thrust makes him tense and whimper. The urge to fuck him becomes a violent thirst. I give him several hard thrusts and spill my morning load. “Oh FUCK,” I bellow, letting loose.
“Sir!”
I grab his waist and hold us close, his warm butt against my hips. The moment begins to dissipate. My coffee is getting cold. I slide out of him, and we both moan.
“God fucking damn,” I sigh. “What a wonderful morning.”
My boy doesn’t respond. His body is heaving. “God Sir, that was a rush being used and owned by you like that.”
I smile to myself. “That is the world I am trying to create for you.”
“I – I understand Sir.”
“Good. I was hoping to hear that. Well, let’s go take a shower. You have breakfast to make and a lot of cleaning to do.”
“Yes sir.”
I decided to wait until we were in my double shower to tell him he was going to spend the rest of the day in chastity for coming without permission.
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Captions are fictional.