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Bulge, Lord Wickham

DAVID 623

 

“There’s my pretty boy,” the stablemaster, David McAllister muttered to the horse as he petted his neck. “Maybe we’ll go for a walk after I brush you down, huh? Would you like that? Show off your beautiful lines and powerful muscles and that pretty mane?”

Lord Wickham trod quietly across the hay. He had been spying on his stablemaster for weeks, marveling at his handsome face and powerful body. Now on this hot day, his stablemaster had stripped to the waist and gone inside the stables to escape the heat. The big man’s shirt lay draped across the stump of a large tree that now served as a small seat or table. He carefully made his way to it and then sat down….on top of the shirt.

“Yes indeed,” said David as he brushed Lucifer’s mane, heedless of his employer’s presence. “I’d bet everyone wants to ride you once they see you.”

Lord Wickham thought the same thing of David.

“Although, once they know your name, they might have second thoughts.” David sighed. “Why someone would name a beautiful stallion like you after the devil himself is beyond me. It flies in the face of God to my way of thinking.”

Lord Wickham cleared his throat. “Ahem.”

David623“Oh! Your lordship! I didn’t know you were here.”

“Yes. I gathered.”

David looked down at his bare chest. “Oh! I’m sorry about my…state of…” He looked around for his shirt. “It’s just that it’s so warm today, and I came in to get out of the sun, and I….where is my shirt?”

“I believe I’m sitting on it.”

“Oh. Yes.” David moved towards it and extended his hand. “If you’ll just allow me to–”

Lord Wickham held up one hand. “I’m quite comfortable I’m afraid.”

“But…I feel kind of….”

“You needn’t be worried. I’ve seen a naked man before, and you’re only half naked. Carry on.”

He still felt uncomfortable. “But I-I…I’d rather not. Someone may come in, and I wouldn’t want them to think I was showing off.”

“Yes. You are quite large. And very handsome.”

David smiled meekly. “Thank you. But if you don’t mind–”

“I do mind.”

“Oh.”

“Do you participate in the Scottish games? Or feats of strength?”

“Sometimes.”

“It certainly has had an effect on your physique.”

“Yes. Yes, sir.”

“I gather your wife must be very pleased.”

”Oh I’m not married, sir.”

“You live alone then.”

“Yes. Well, no. I have a little boy.”

“I see. Then you’re a widower?”

“No. I’ve never been married.”

“But this boy you have….”

“You see, he was a foundling. But he’s my son now. At least it feels like he is. It’s how I think of him.”

“Is that so? How old is he?”

“Four. And full of curiosity.”

“And full of energy I expect. Are you going to teach him to ride?”

“Someday…I hope to.”

“And he’s doing well?”

“Yes. Well, no. That is to say…he’s not well. He was born…well, he’s ill. And it didn’t look like there was much hope for him until recently. The doctors have given him a new medicine, and he’s doing very well on it. Better than even the doctors expected. I expect he’ll be running and playing with the other children soon, God willing.”

“How splendid,” said Lord Wickham with an emotionless half-smile.

“Will your lordship be riding Champion today?”

“No, I’ve come to master a new horse. A more virile and spirited one. A stallion.”

“Oh. Well,” said David, “there’s no more spirited than Lucifer here. I’d wager that in a short time you’d be able to–”

“No, no. I want to ride a particular stallion. Not Lucifer.”

“Not Lucifer?” David stopped to think. “Well then, Brutus?”

“No.”

“Admiral?”

“No.”

“Caesar?”

“No.”

David scratched his head. “Well, the only one left other than Champion is Willy. And he’s more gentle than Champion I’d say.”

Lord Wickham leaned forward and held up the riding crop, turning it to admire its sides. “No, the one I want is a stallion among stallions. One that will resist me at first but will be tamed, or at least subdued, with a remarkable bridle.”

“And which horse is that, sir?”

“You,” Lord Wickham answered with a sly smile and a raised eyebrow.

“I…I beg your pardon sir? I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Lord Wickham stood, and grabbed the shirt he had been sitting on. He held it close to his face and inhaled deeply. There was only a hint of man smell but the shirt was redolent of leather and wood and hay and summer grass. He folded the shirt roughly into a compact mass and tucked it inside his jacket, under his arm. Again, he contemplated the riding crop and approached his stable master. “First, I’m adding another condition to your continued employment. Let’s say on Mondays and Thursdays, when I’m at home, you are forbidden to wear a shirt.”

“What?”

“Let’s say from the first day of Spring until the first day of Autumn.”

“Why?””

“Oh come now. Don’t play innocent. Isn’t it obvious?”

“Is this for all the men?”

“Hmm! Not a bad idea. I’ll consider it. But for now, only you.”

“But what will the other men say? What reason do you want me to convey?”

“I couldn’t care less what you tell them. Only that it was not my idea, but that I’ve sanctioned it.”

“But I don’t understand. Why–?”

“And I couldn’t care less whether you understand or not. But there is one more condition of your continued employment here.”

“More, sir?”

“Yes. From now on, you are to schedule the other stablemen to take over your duties on Tuesday and Friday afternoons. Henceforth, every Tuesday and Friday afternoon at precisely two o’clock you are to enter the house by the servants door in the back, and make your way up the stairs to the second floor. There you will go into the last bedroom in the east wing and lock the door. You will then wait for me.”

“What?”

“When I come in, you will slowly take off all your clothes. You will then take my jacket and pour my brandy. And then you will touch yourself in any way I command. And subsequently I will touch you in any way I like until I have satisfaction.”

“No! I’m sorry sir. But I’m not that kind of man!”

“I couldn’t care less whether you are or not. Just know that these duties are conditions of your continued employment here.”

“Well maybe I don’t want to work here anymore!”

The riding crop was slapped against David’s crotch and held there. “You watch your tongue. This riding crop can be used on other things besides horses. And remember, jobs are scarce around here, especially from those leery of someone of your size, and especially without a reference from me.”

David gasped at the cruelty of it all.

“And medicines are so expensive.” Lord Wickham smiled and rubbed the tip of the riding crop against the bulge of David’s pants. “See you tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

 

 

2015

 

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