Hole

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Draco had hoped to be home in time for dinner, but at eleven o'clock he was still arguing semantics with the Committee for Muggle Welfare. By the time he was able to apparate home it was well after midnight; he was exhausted and irritable. Over the hours the thought of his new toy waiting had moved from an enticement to a frustrator to an irritant. He strode up the stairs without stopping, and as he entered his room he only hazily noticed that Hole was waiting on his rug as ordered.

He snapped his fingers for Peppy, ordering a light meal and a whisky, then settled into his armchair. The fire crackled in the silence, fraying his nerves.

"I don't suppose you can sing or play an instrument?" he growled at the waiting slave. Of course he couldn't. When Peppy came with his meal Draco told the elf to send Lark up to play to him. Her quiet lute was soothing in the background as he ate, and he regained his temper by the end of the meal, beginning to anticipate once again the pleasures which the night might still have in store for him. Turning to Hole, he ordered him to fetch the wooden case in the bottom drawer of the armoire.

"I'm sorry, Master Draco," the slave confessed nervously, "I don't know what an armoire is."

Draco gritted his teeth. "The wardrobe."

Hole gulped nervously and stood up to fetch the case. Now that he had finally made his way to the kitchens, he had been supplied with the standard tunic for an indoor slave: a red silk tabard, held together at the sides only by the matching sash, and reaching to mid-thigh. It suited him, Draco thought. It made the watcher want to flip him upside down and torment all his most vulnerable areas. The thin silk drifted lightly over every detail of his body, touching nipples, arse, and tenting slightly over his genitals. Watching Hole's nervous attempt to pull the case out of the armoire drawer lightened Draco's mood again. The hem of the tunic teased gently over the slave's buttocks and, as he bent and tugged, his rump and dangling cock and balls flashed enticingly.

Draco gestured to the slave to kneel at his feet, then opened the case to choose which of his collection of whips and paddles he would use tonight. Hole's eyes opened wide, and the tension in his body made it clear that he had made the connection to his punishment for last night's infraction. It wasn't fair, of course. Draco had made sure that he could not remain silent, but those were the perks of mastership, and Hole needed to understand the rules.

In the background the lute played delicate airs of the renaissance.

Draco toyed with a barbed whip, purely for the pleasure of watching Hole turn white, but eventually selected a paddle, in line with his desire for a quiet night. Untying the slave's sash, he laid it over the arm of his chair before removing the soft silk tunic. The boy really was delicious! He pulled him into his lap and leaned over to nip at a nipple - eliciting a satisfying wriggle - before carefully blindfolding the slave with his sash. He laid the naked boy over his lap, cock dangling between his master's legs while those tender buttocks were presented for close examination. He smoothed tenderly over each cheek, then dripped a little whisky to run in channels to pool in the hollow of the boy's back and drip along the length of his crack. Picking up the paddle with his right hand he used his left to spread the alcohol over those perfect buttocks.

*CRACK* The boy jumped and gasped, but said, steadfastly enough, "ONE, Thankyou Master Draco." The second and third smacks landed in swift succession on the other cheek and the centre of the arse. The boy counted resolutely. Draco was careful not to fall into a steady pattern as he continued, breaking off now and then to re-moisten the tender red arse and probe idly between the cheeks.

"How many men have come inside you today, Hole?" he asked. *CRACK* went the paddle.

"Thirteen," the boy answered, after he had given the required count, his glance flicking swiftly over to Lark as he strove to master his voice. "You, twice; the Master, twice; each of his guards once - FIFTEEN, thankyou Master Draco - and three stablehands."

There were four stablehands. Draco considered, as he spread the boy's legs wider over the arm of the chair and swatted underhanded to catch the slave's ball-sac with the blow.

"What about the fourth stablehand?"

The boy flushed to match his red arse. His voice was hoarse, a hairsbreadth away from a whimper. "He came on my face and hair, Master Draco."

The next crack to his balls broke something in him. Draco saw him curl deeper in on himself, no longer repelling the pain but merely suffering it. Good. Now he began to understand.

Draco continued until the boy was a limp rag using all the remnants of his control to keep from crying out. He had been good. Draco smiled at the boy's back. "You may cry if you wish," he said softly, and Hole did not even wait for the next blow to do so.

Draco carried him over to the bed and laid him on his back, knees wide and pressed to his shoulders, opening the sweet, bruised arse like a flower. The red sash across the boy's eyes was sodden with tears. Draco greased his eagerly waiting cock and slid slowly into that beckoning tender hole. Each inch brought deeper sobs from the slave. When Draco was balls-deep he raised himself onto one elbow and removed the blindfold. Dark wet lashes framed glistening green eyes. Behind him the lute played Greensleeves.

"Beautiful Hole, named for your finest assets. You were born to be my beautiful slut, weren't you? You'll be a good slut, Hole. Learn to please me and I will not have to punish you." Draco soothed.

The boy wept quietly as Draco savagely plunged deep inside him. "Yes, Master Draco," he agreed obediently, limply rocking back and forth under the force of Draco's strokes. Draco came at last with a ferocity that made up for the day's frustrations, as if the cum gushing out to fill the slave's channel took with it all the minor irritations of the day. He sprawled bonelessly over the body of the softly whimpering boy without bothering to withdraw.

"You may go, Lark," he said softly. Her docile answer of "Yes, Master Draco", followed by the soft click of his door closing, let him finally fall asleep.