The Right Hand Of The Father

chapter 10

George stared at his boy, sitting at his desk, nibbling on the end of his quill. His eyes were fixed on the parchment in front of him and George could see that he was concentrating. 

George meanwhile was distracted. Couldn’t focus on the paperwork that Alexander had placed in front of him this morning. A suggestion from Madison that he bring Nelson to the other man’s stables and have him cover two of Madison’s mares. He would either have to stay a week or he would need to leave Nelson behind.

He wasn’t inclined to leave Alexander alone so soon after taking the boy to his bed. He was almost a complete innocent and George didn’t want to leave him alone like a babe in the wilderness. He was even worse than an innocent George thought to himself. He was half trained and that half had been poorly done.

If he could simply ride to the Steven’s plantation he’d be over there with a whip and dueling pistols and demanding that Thom Stevens send his rogue of an heir out to answer to George for his behavior. To train a boy into believing he should not stiffen during acts of lovemaking. That it was something to be ashamed of. To apologize for. That the boy should be ashamed to find his pleasure from his daddy’s touch.

It was unconscionable. Depraved. To abuse a boy in such a way. To teach him that he was dirty. Shameful. To take a boy to bed and then shame him, twist him with self loathing was the actions of a man who should be beaten within an inch of his life.

It was no surprise, knowing what he did now, that Alexander had been terrified of his touch that first day. That he’d begged George not to take him to a house. To think he’d be used for another man’s pleasure and not allowed to seek his own? That he would be punished for feeling pleasure even? It was barbaric.

He’d have to be careful training him. Take his time. He’d seen other men with poorly trained boys. Boys that weren’t sure of their place. Boys that lashed out or turned sulky. Boys that were neglected when their daddy’s had business back at their estates and left their boys alone too long. That was how scandals happened. Men coming back to their love nests to find someone else between their boy’s thighs.

It was part of the reason he had never taken a boy of his own. He’d had a mistress before he’d married Martha and it had been an abysmal failure. He was only sometimes in Williamsburg and when he was away she found her bed cold. When he was in town there were late nights in the House of Burgess. Less money for fripperies than she’d hoped after a poor harvest. She’d turned bitter and cold toward him. Refused to let him in her bed. And then he’d heard she had left Williamsburg with a group of traveling players one of them’s bastard in her belly.

He’d sworn to himself then that if he took another lover there would be conditions. Rules. The first? They would stay with George. Which had stopped him from taking a boy in New Orleans. It was the common practice for boys purchased from houses to remain in town, even when their daddy’s left after the winter season ended. No,he’d keep Alexander in his bed. Take him to town for the season but when it ended they would both return to Derniere. The boy would warm his bed every night, not just when he could make the trip to New Orleans.

And now that he had him there George intended to break him slowly. Like one would a skittish horse. Gentle his nerves and then guide him in the ways of the flesh. Train him to crave George’s touch alone. His kiss.

He’d expected it to take some time. Knew that Alexander was a virgin and that it would take some days to teach him to be comfortable with George’s passion. To make him unafraid of the feel of George’s body. Then there would be the long slow days of stretching him. Teaching him to not just relax under George’s touch but to anticipate it. To wait eagerly for it.

Now though? Now he’d have to work past Alexander’s fear of being hurt. Of being punished for his pleasure. Of being torn and breeched and abused.