This story is (C)Copyright 2006, by TM. All World Wide Rights Reserved. This story may not be sold or made part of any collection without prior written permission.
A Lesson In Time, Chapter Twenty Five
Apparently the pony slaves had something heinous in mind for me. Just as I was being pulled backwards from the mounting bench I heard one of them yell ` stop'.
With hands on either side of my head, the slave began to rub my face in the vomit which had remained on the smooth surface from just moments ago. This act of depravity seemed to bring out the laughs and demonic verbiage from the rest of the slaves and I instantly knew that I was heading for even rougher treatment.
"Poor baby boy thinks we're to mean", hollered one of the slaves.
"Pussyboy ain't seen nothing yet", exclaimed another.
""He's gonna know who the real men are, by the time the sun comes up", said yet another of the slaves.
After a brief moment, I was shoved to the floor, with someone putting their foot up against my ass; pushing me in the direction in which he wanted me to crawl.
"Yep, it's sure gonna be nice playing with a new piece of slave meat", said the one that I perceived to be the black slave.
As soon as I felt the straw against my skin I realized that I must've arrived in the designated stall.
I was ordered to kneel erect, which I did; and without any hesitation on their part, the slaves began to urinate on my body, including my face. The rancid piss quickly began dripping down every conceivable part of my body, rapidly being absorbed by the straw floor covering.
My jaw was pried open and some form of hard rubber was forced in and set in place behind my teeth; leaving my mouth wide open. "Can't deny that the bitch has got nice teeth, now can we", said one of the slaves. "I guess his two little slave friends ain't gonna be much help to him now, unless they want to get the same treatment."
Again, I was the brunt of the slave's comment, as the group broke out into yet further disgusting rants.
My hands were pulled behind my back and then my wrists were roped to the cuffs on my ankles, leaving me totally incapable of defending myself. Another rope was passed underneath my collar, from behind, and tied in such a way as to prevent my head from falling forward.
I nearly lost my balance, as they pulled my legs further apart; which also placed even greater restrictions on my movements. "Looks like he's about the right height now", remarked the slave that I knew to be a Latino.
"Sure does, and I'm guessing he'll be able to take any cock that comes his way too", shouted one of the slaves.
The slaves began going back and forth, amongst themselves, as to who was going to fuck my face first. And about the only thing I remember about their conversations was when one of them said "I'm going to fuck his throat so hard that he won't be able to talk for a fucking week". I was fairly confident that it was the black slave who made that remark.
I had forgotten about Nathan and his camera, until I heard him speak up. " Before you guys get started, don't forget that we have to wait for John Henry to get back with the pussyslaves bottle".
There was some grumbling amongst the slaves, but they seemed resigned to having to wait.
I wasn't the least bit surprised, or shocked, when Nathan made the suggestion for the sole purpose of the documentary', that the younger pony slave get down and slurp the drippings' from my ass.
Moments later, the slave was behind me, his face planted between the cheeks of my ass; sucking out the remnants of slave sperm. I could vividly imagine him, with his pristine face and glacier blue eyes being made to rim my anal orifice.
"Ah, young slave does approach" laughed a slave.
"The Housemaster and housekeeper thought that this would be much better than the regular nipple", commented John Henry in a less than enthusiastic tone of voice. At least I now knew that he was here and not off doing something else. He and Jordan were my only connections to the real world at this point and I didn't want to be here without them.
"Indeed so", barked the black slave. "It'll give the pussyslave something to practice on before he gets the real thing".
I instantly felt something gliding over my tongue. It was rubbery yet not all that soft. "You need to get you some nourishment boy", said a slave. "Just think of it as a preliminary lesson before you get the real thing."
Moments later, my gag reflex kicked in and I began to struggle as the object worked its way back and forth in my mouth. Each time my throat passage was invaded, my muscles squeezed against the object, which I assumed was some form of imitation cock; and with each convulsion I could feel liquid pouring into my throat.
I took me awhile to recognize that what I was tasting was identical to the liquid that I sucked from a large bottle just last night.
There didn't seem to be any breaks between the thrusts and soon my nose was spewing snot; which seemed to please the group of slaves. There were several times when Nathan had the slaves move this way and that way, just so he could get a better angle for the camera lens.
I began to feel different, much as I had the previous night. It only took me a minute or two before I finally came to the realization that last night and
tonight... my liquid was tainted with something other than a nutritional substance.
My muscles began to relax; more obvious were the muscles in my throat, as my gagging began to subside. My head seemed to want to spin just a bit and my brain was revving up; in such a way that all I could think about was sex. Pure unadulterated sex.
I'm positive that my initial response to the aphrodisiac was what caused the slaves to become more anxious about fucking my face. I say this, because of the one time that the object was making its way down my throat, that I, unprovoked, leaned my body forward in an attempt to get more of it in my mouth. I never understood why I reacted in such a manner but as they say, "its water under the bridge" now.
The rubbery textured object was replaced with a blood gorged cock; which made a quick entrance down my throat. I could feel every muscle in my throat pounding back and forth against his cock, and I wanted to control it myself.
The more I concentrated on the slave's cock, the more relaxed I became and was able to will my own muscles to control the situation; which apparently brought even more `excited' pleasure to the slave standing in front of me. The more relaxed I made myself, the easier time I had at controlling my breathing as well. I couldn't imagine, for the time being, me doing anything else except sucking cock.
I could still feel the slave sucking and tonguing my rectum, and I could also feel someone's hand rubbing my shoulder; all the while, I sucked on the man flesh in my mouth and throat. I wanted, had I been able to, to wrap my hands behind the legs of the man in front of me. I wanted to feel more of him, as my throat massaged his cock. I needed to feel wanted and needed just as much as any other human being; but sadly I was only role playing the part of a novice slave.
Guttural sounds, combined with the sudden thrust of his hips alerted me to the impending orgasm. I could feel the wiry stubbles of the slave's pubic hairs
against my face as rope after rope of his cum burst down my throat. There were several slaves exclaiming congratulatory remarks, before the cock eased itself out of my face.
"That was the best throat fuck I've had in a year" remarked the slave. " Next!"
"I don't what to fuck his face with him having a mouth spreader", said the next slave standing in front of me; and the next thing I felt was his fingers prying the rubber ring out from behind my teeth. "We all know what we'll do to him if'n he bites or scrapes his useless fucking teeth on any of our mansticks."
I worked my jaw sideways, back and forth, working out the minor stiffness; just prior to feeling the cockhead pressing passed my lips. Just from the gargantuan girth of the cock, I knew that it must have belonged to the Latino.
"That's it bitch boy, suck a real man's cock; you fucking poor excuse for white trash", he said, sliding himself completely into my face.
I was a bit perplexed, trying to actually understand the slave's words. Here was a slave, talking to me as if he, himself, was a free man.
"With enough practice, this here bitch will almost suck cock as good as my boy does; but nobody will ever be able to suck cock like he did."
The man continued on, with a slower and more rhythmic response to his own needs, as compared to the last man. He seemed to be relishing the fact that he was fucking a white man's face slowly and with purpose. "This brings back a lot of memories. Sorta like the last time my boy sucked me off before I got myself arrested. Now I suppose he's sucking on his younger brother' boy meat... least till I get back home."
There was some laughter mixed with comments, as the slave's all stood around watching the proceedings. "You ain't ever going home you dumb piece of shit. You'll be a slave for the next ten years and by then your boy will be all grown up and probably fucking his own slave."
With some laughter still remaining, one final comment seemed to send the slave into a fuck frenzy. "For all you know, you stupid fuck, your boy just might end up owning you and then you'll be sucking his cock and taking his dick up your slimy `spic' ass."
The slave's hands pressed against the sides of my head as he held his cock embedded down my throat. He seemed to take his anger against the remarks made; out on me. Over and over again, he cursed me and called me every vile name he
could conjure up. He pumped his seed violently into my mouth as he pulled back a couple of inches.
I felt his cock go limp rather quickly, as he extracted it. Before moving aside, the slave landed a forceful blow up side my head; sending me sideways to the floor.
The stall was awestruck, deep in silence, as they watched me fall. The sound of the slave's hand striking my head, still rang in my ears as I was hauled back up to my knees.
My next `experience' was the feeling atop my head and on my back, of two separate streams of piss striking my flesh. "Nothing better than to piss on the bitch who just swallowed a mouth full of baby making seed", said the Latino.
If it hadn't been for my blindfold, the other slaves would have seen the stream of tears pooling up.
However, I still wanted more cock; I needed it, just to feel complete. I had a strong desire for every one of their cock poles. I visualized myself in many different and strange places sucking cock after cock until I couldn't suck any more.
Two more cocks followed the Latino's cock and that seemed to be the end of the sucking, for now at least.
From behind, someone pulled my head backwards. The next thing I know, I have a slave's ass pressed against my face and then I felt his cheeks move which presented me with his pucker hole.
The odor of the slave soap filled my nostrils as I tongued his ass, which seemed to be tight. I could only `assume' that he and the other pony slaves hadn't bothered or needed to fuck one another; since there seemed to be an ample supply of other younger slaves to fuck.
"This is gonna make for a great learning tool", remarked Nathan; whose voice seemed rather close to my face. "I'd be anxious to get feedback from the schools and anybody else who sees the final cut of this film."
Nathan's remarks seemed to bring me back to reality for a few moments. I hadn' t realized, or maybe I just forgot, that I was allowing my `inner self' to be exposed in front of the camera. Thankfully, with my eyes covered, the person viewing the film would never recognize who the slave was.
As I continued to perform, someone from behind had reached between my legs and taken hold of my bound balls. Squeezing them seemed to only heighten my sexual awareness; sending my tongue darting back and forth across the rosebud planted against my face. My own dick seemed to have the desire to become erect; but the catheter somehow prevented it, causing me a minor amount of grief. At the moment, all I wanted to do was to get my nuts off and enjoy a mind blowing orgasm.
I wasn't bothered by how many cocks I'd sucked or how many butts I licked and tongued out; but I was a conscious of the click and clat of hoofed feet against the bare floor just outside my stall.
** Author's Note! The following is a tip-toe through a part of the story that
some just may feel the need NOT to read. It is rather brief, and the author will denote the ending of this particular scene by the inclusion of asterisks upon conclusion... so scroll passed this part until you see the `**' notation.
The unmistakable fragrance of a horse soon filled my senses; allowing me the perverted reality that there was now a horse entering the stall. Once or twice, the animal brushed up against my flesh, sending shivers of pure fright coursing through my entire body.
There was very little talking as the slaves positioned the stallion over me. The only words that I heard making any sense were `best to hobble the stud before we go any further', which were spoken by Nathan.
With my body now drenched in my own sweat, I feared the unknown. Soon the unknown became the known, as the horse began unleashing a river of piss. One of the slaves must have been directing the stream, as most of it struck me just about even with my nipple line.
"Guess we know what happens now", said one of the slaves.
I expected that someone was going to wipe the horse's dick off, much like I did yesterday; but that wasn't the case.
Who ever had hold of the equine phallus simply rubbed it on each side of my face; while the slaves looked on in sheer happiness. There were muffled sounds of joy coming from a few of the slaves; which apparently was the signal for Nathan to speak up, saying; "The idea behind males used as sex slaves, is a long standing tradition in the world. It is not the intent of a slave owner to simply use the sex slave to satisfy his own bodily urges, but to explore a universe of sex which emanates in the mind of the sex slave's owner. Dog, sheep, pig or horse; regardless of the genetic makeup of the beast... many slave owners have deep seeded needs to witness the act between man and beast. It is not a mere case of abusive treatment, such as you've offered this slave today. It should be looked upon as a means to an end. An end, none of you slaves will ever feel, in your current life. A good and true sex slave would do anything to please his master, even if it strikes the slave as ill and demented."
Nathan's words seemed to ring out with a bit of understandable and uncompromising sense of slave loyalty; such as I'd never even thought about or even considered. I was definitely going to have to research such topics when I had the opportunity.
I felt what I perceived as the head of the horses cock brush up and across my
mouth over and over again. I could smell the remnants of piss as it passed under my nose. Soon, the cock slowed with each pass over my lips and I was certain, deadly sure, of what everyone was expecting.
"*****************************************************"
I allowed myself to fall sideways, as the horse was led from the stall. I was
still in shock as to what had just transpired, let alone the fact that I didn 't seem to give a shit. All I could remember was someone whispering in my ear saying something that I'd said to somebody else just a day or two ago. "A cock is a cock, regardless of what it's attached to".
"Best you two get this whore cleaned up before he stinks up the whole fucking barn", barked one of the pony slaves.
"WAIT!" shouted another. "Let the bitch clean up his own fucking mess first and then let them scrub him".
My limbs were released and my blindfold was removed; as my eyes began to focus on the slaves standing around me like Indians to a doomed wagon. Jordan and John Henry rose to their feet just as the circle of slaves bathed me one final time in their piss. I balled myself up into a fetal position, covering my face from the four or so slaves pissing on me. I saw Nathan standing off in one corner, dutifully recording the event.
Jordan scooted out and brought a wheelbarrow into the stall and as the pony slaves left laughing and patting each others ass; I began to use my hands to pick up the piss soaked straw and place it into the wheelbarrow. Nathan left shortly after I had started removing the straw, which seemed to motivate Jordan and John Henry; as they both dropped to the floor and began helping me with my task.
They must have had to do this many times before, because they made sure that even the smallest shred of straw was picked up. John Henry quickly took the wet straw away and returned with a fresh bale. After spreading the straw, they allowed me to crawl to the shower area without replacing the blindfold.
With diligence, yet a certain amount of caring and understanding, the two slaves began their task of getting me cleaned up. The warm water felt so relaxing that I didn't want it to stop. My mind continued reeling from what had just happened, yet I still had that carefree, care less, mindset. I was almost certain that it was from the effects of whatever it was that I'd ingested from the bottle. I struggled to get my mind free, back on track with my purpose for even being here this week. I tried to focus on family and friends, but that was, in its self, a hard thing to do.
The three of us were still in the shower, when Doc appeared just beyond the tiled floor. He had a look of deep concern on his face. He called to John Henry and the slave followed Doc from the barn.
I was just about finished getting my intestines washed out for the third time by the time John Henry returned. John Henry looked as if he'd just been handed a death sentence; as his eyes were swollen and filled with tears. If I hadn't been kneeling on the floor, I would never have seen the look of disappointment and sadness on his face.
As he knelt beside me, I heard him tell Jordan that Doc wanted to speak with him too. Jordan left with a look of bewilderment, and fear.
John Henry was just about finished scrubbing between my butt cheeks when Jordan returned; looking as if a mirrored image of John Henry.
They both remained stoic, yet they completed their task; as Doc stood idly by watching the three of us.
"Kevin, I'm sorry to have to say this, but I have to cut your experience short. Perhaps we can find the time for one more day before you leave us", Doc said with a solemn voice.
"Get Kevin's plug in and then we'll all go back down to the main house", he said turning and walking away.
My own face showed bewilderment and some degree of sadness, as I looked both of the slave's in the face. They could do nothing more than to embrace me, as their eyes once again began to release monumental amounts of tears; all shed in total silence.
I was so distant from myself, feeling the pain of the two slaves, that I didn 't even feel the huge plug seat itself inside my ass.
While they walked towards the barn door, I crawled behind; noting the two of them with their arms over one another's shoulder and their free hands grasping each of the others.
Outside, sat Doc on the four wheeler. He motioned for the three of us to find a place to sit and then he slowly drove over the knoll and down towards the
main house.
Nothing was said to me, and I could only assume that whatever created the sadness amongst the two slaves was none of my concern; as the two of them sat behind me, facing back away from me so that I couldn't see their faces. The only thing that kept me from questioning Doc was the fact that every little bump in the path bounced me just enough to keep reminding me that I had my ass stuffed with a large, horse tailed butt plug.
The looming house rapidly seemed more like a safe haven the closer we got; and I felt relieved once we finally came to a stop.
With all of us going in through the back gate, I saw the Housemaster, rise up from a chair and move towards the two slaves. I watched in a rather solemn way, as the three men exchanged hugs.
I knew, that it had to be late; but nonetheless, the housekeeper came out with a tray of refreshments.
With the exception of the housekeeper, we all found a vacant chair in which to sit and enjoy a cool drink; even Jordan and John Henry.
As the glasses emptied, the Housemaster suggested that the two slaves might want to relax a few minutes in the pool before retiring. Still remaining silent they got up and walked down the few steps into the pool; leaning against the wall with their backs towards the free men.
We three watched, as the slaves once again embraced one another. I could easily detect the sounds of sobbing and was now even more perplexed as to the reason for such a display of affection.
I turned towards Doc, looking as if I was waiting for and expecting an explanation for the sudden turn of events.
"Any explanation must come from the slaves" Doc said in a somber voice. " They have about an hour before their `free speech' time is over".
That said, Doc rose from his chair, followed by the Housemaster. The housekeeper refilled my glass, and she too followed the free men into the house.
I continued sitting there, watching the two slaves; wondering beyond imagination what it could be that brought about their sadness.
Lifting myself from the chair, I quietly moved over to the pool steps and began descending into the tepid waters. I paid no attention to my butt plug nor the tail, as it seemed to float up to the top of the water.
I kept my distance from the slaves, regardless of how bad I felt that I needed to know the reason or reasons for their tears.
They must have sensed my presence in the pool, as both turned to face me and then began to walk towards me in the darkness of the night air.
To Be Continued...