The following story is an erotic fantasy story meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. It involves depictions of sex. If this subject matter offends, then stop reading this page now.
This story is a work of fiction and is not intended to depict any living person, although some elements are autobiographical in nature. Do not read this story if you live in an area where it is illegal to do so. The author does not condone the actions in this story.
This work is copyright by the author and commercial use is prohibited without permission. The author would appreciate your comments, pro and con, including constructive criticism, and suggestions. My thanks to everyone for the feedback, story ideas, and nice comments, including David, Brian, Pak-Kei, Drew, Mitchell, Peter, Alan, Larry, Mike 08, Dutch, Em, Peter E, Wayne, Tom, Chris, Joe, MastersHeadSlave, PT, Dick, Sean, Jonathan, A, Vision, and anyone I'm forgetting. Your comments, ideas, and suggestions sustained this story beyond what I thought it would be. Special thanks to Thor, who composed large portions of this chapter. Thank you all.
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Cinderfella, Chapter 30 of 32
As my step-masters dragged me outside, my stomach was doing flip flops, not knowing what was next in store for me.
"First thing we need to do is make this bitch look more like a man," Master Adam said. "Field bitches weren't meant to have hair. Too much maintenance. Time to shear the sheep." I watched him remove a set of electric hair clippers from a black leather pouch.
"But Mr. Witt let Dick's hair grow out," Daniel pointed out.
"So? It's just hair. If he doesn't like it, he can let it grow back," Master Adam said.
He plugged in the clippers to an outdoor wall outlet, and they clicked into life with a buzz. His gray eyes lit up as he inspected the vibrating clipper blades.
Master Adam walked behind me, holding the clippers tightly in his hand.
His free hand gripped my head from the forehead and then the buzzing clippers ploughed their way across the top of my head. I am sure I flinched at the sensation, but his grip was like a vice. Clumps of hair began falling down onto my bare shoulders. I stood there dumbly as my hair was sheared away.
Master Adam's grip changed, as he pushed my head forward, my chin pushed down onto my chest. I felt the clippers sliding up the back of my head, up and over the crown of my head. Each pass was followed by clumps of hair dropping down onto the ground and my bare torso, sticking to my skin, making my back and shoulders itch.
Master Adam then roughly pushed my head so it was leaning to the left as the clippers glided around my right ear. Loose hairs fell onto my chest. After he did that side, he roughly pulled me around and shoved my head the other way.
Then he turned the clippers off, and ran his hands over my now grainy scalp, but he found some hairs he'd missed, and the clippers came back on, and slowly dragged across my scalp once more, pass after pass until he was satisfied every hair had been cut down to the root. It was only then that he set the clippers down.
"I have shaved this bitch's head, as Hanun did to David's servants in Second Samuel, for a man who wears long hair is a disgrace to God, and a field laborer has no need for hair."
"He still looks like a creep, if you ask me," Daniel scoffed.
"That he does," Master Adam agreed. "That he does."
"Fucker looks like Dumbo," Christopher observed, and they laughed. Then he grabbed me by my Dumbo ears and posed for a photo, as they howled with laughter.
"What's so funny, boys? Master Jake said, as he and Master Witt came out to the patio.
"We were just admiring Dick's new haircut," Christopher laughed.
"Oh, that looks much better. Sharpens him up a bit, I think," Jake said. "What do you think, George?"
"Probably cooler," Master Witt said with a shrug.
Then Master Adam moved in front of me and grasped me by my jaw. He squeezed my cheeks hard and held my head upward so our eyes met. His steely gray eyes pierced into mine; I saw for the first time the utter contempt that he had for me. His eyes seemed soulless as they burned into me. This man would hurt me, I knew, and he would enjoy it. I began to tremble.
When he spoke, though, he wasn't speaking to me.
"Now it's time for Shithead's training. Pushing a contract bitch to its absolute limits is an important aspect of labor training, especially for a faggot servant like this bitch. The unrepentant homosexual has spent years pretending it's a woman, skating by while Real Men do all the work."
"For decades in our country, faggots were babied and coddled, allowed to do women's work while Real Mean had to get real jobs. Fags were even allowed to prance around half-naked in parades, corrupting our children and our once God-fearing society. Children were told that it was somehow "normal" to be queer, as if it was somehow okay to stray away from Christianity and morality. Luckily, society eventually wisened up and rejected the Faggot Agenda, and our country slowly went back to its rightful, God-fearing origins."
"Now this fag will work its ass off, as it truly deserves. It will work hard and make up for the years it skated by on the labor of Real Men. I will push this bitch to its absolute limits, and beyond. I will make it regret its sin, as it spirals down to total submission."
"You queers make me sick," he said, as he hocked a loogie and spat on my face. Then Christopher yanked my head over to the right and spat on me, too.
At that moment, a pickup truck pulled up into the back yard. A couple of Free Men got out.
To my utter relief, Master Adam released his steely grip on me and turned to the visitors.
"Dad, George, this is Saul White and his friend Randy," Adam said, introducing my stepfather and Master to these rough-looking men. "Dad, you might remember them. Saul is an old buddy of mine. Randy owns the quarry over in Westchester. Good friends of mine from my high school days."
"Randy, Saul, this is George Witt, who runs Witt Farms outside of town, and you probably remember my dad, Jake, who's a lobbyist."
The men all shook hands.
"I asked them to stop by with their bitches so we could have a real down-home, Mississippi-style competition," Adam said. "Their bitches versus Shithead here."
The Free Men then went to the back of the rusty pickup, where they unchained two massive toilers. The first toiler out of the pickup was a massive, muscular he-hulk covered in gigantic chains. The chains ran everywhere: across his huge, striated chest; down his corded, muscular legs; and down his giant arms where they connected to heavy manacles at his wrists. Smaller chain links connected the arm manacles to the leg manacles, and the chains at the slave's waist to those at his arms. There were so many chains that it was hard to see much of his hulking, massive body, but he looked as heavily-muscled as Dorian Yates in his prime.
I was going to compete with this hulk?
The toiler's massive neck was bound with a 3-inch-thick iron collar much like mine. But unlike mine, his collar was huge. It had to be, to circumnavigate his giant, corded neck. The d-bolts in his collar were fastened with chains to a network of chains across his chest and down his back. He wore no clothes, and the chains running down his chest connected to a manacle surrounding his cock and balls.
The toiler moved slowly off the bed off the pickup, his chains clattering and clanging as they bumped up against the bed of the truck. So weighted down was the brute that his body was bent forward with the weight of all the chains.
"Jesus, that fucker's huge!" Christopher said, and then whistled, obviously impressed with the size of the slave.
"Yeah, Cunt here came up last year from the cotton fields of Selma, Alabama," Saul explained. "This bitch is a lifer, caught stealing food from a Senator's property, which is a felony. I keep it pretty buffed up for super-heavy field work."
Saul grabbed 'Cunt' by a lead-chain and pulled him around to the rock garden, then fastened him into a heavy iron yoke that was propped up against the low wall of the garden.
Then the second toiler was herded off the pick-up truck. I had thought that no human being could be more freaky muscular than 'Cunt', but I was wrong! The thing that was hauled down off the truck looked barely recognizable as human.
It was secured with fewer chains than 'Cunt', although it was still bound in chains across its chest and back, and secured with heavy manacles at its neck, arms, and wrists.
With fewer chains, it was easier to see this slave's inhumanly muscled physique. Its chest, back and shoulders seemed like they were three times the width of a normal man's, and its corded arms were bulging 25-inch guns. Its gigantic pecs hung like thick slabs of beef, every striation visible. Its thick torso tapered slightly down to a thick, muscular 'roid gut'.
And then the legs, which seemed as thick as tree trunks. Its thighs were so huge that it couldn't walk normally, its inner thighs rubbing up against one another. The hugeness of its thighs kept its cock and balls pushed forward. Its big cock was manacled. Its big bull-balls dangled below the cock.
It looked around. There didn't seem to be a shred of humanity left in its eyes. It was like a farm animal.
"Jesus," Daniel murmured under his breath. "What the fuck is that thing?"
"This bitch is #42," Randy said, and then spat on the ground.
"Randy brought 42 up from Waycross, Georgia, a few months ago," Master Adam explained to my stepfamily and Master Witt. "It's a quarry-toiler used in super-heavy rock processing."
"Holy shit!" Christopher exclaimed. "That fucker's a monster!"
"Sure as shit is," Randy said, as he yanked on #42's guide chain, leading the heavy-duty toiler to another yoke on the ground. "I don't go easy on my quarry bitches. They gotta earn their fuckin' keep." He yanked hard on the chain, as if to demonstrate his mastery over the giant toiler.
"Now it's time to get Dickhead here fastened to its yoke," Master Adam said.
Christopher and Daniel then grabbed me and fastened me to the drayage yoke as they had done earlier in the week. Christopher placed a big, nasty horse-bit in my mouth and secured the reins around the nape of my neck. Then my head was pulled back and fastened to the yoke. When Adam saw what Daniel was doing with the reins, he stopped him and made Daniel pull my head back even further before fastening the reins to a bolt in the yoke, my neck strained back painfully.
"Yeah, you wanna always make sure the bitch's head is pulled back as far as possible," Master Adam lectured, as he gave Christopher and Daniel several additional tips for keeping a bitch secured. "Here's a good rule of thumb I learned in Mississippi: If you think a bitch's restraints are tight enough, they're probably not."
"That's a fine young man you've got, there, Jake," I heard Master Witt say, thumping Jake on the back with his big hand. "Your boy Adam not only knows how to train up a bitch, he's able to teach those skills to others. I like that."
"Thank you, George," Master Jake said. "I've always taught Adam to give back to others, as the Bible instructs us to do. I'm proud that he's showing us what he's learned from his years in the South, and proud that he's a part of the industrial-labor complex that has helped keep America so great, and keep so many trouble-makers off the street."
"It is a great country," Witt said, nodding his head slowly. "The Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave."
Once all three of us 'contract labor scum' were fully fastened into the yokes, Master Adam explained the "game": each Free Man (Randy, Saul, and Adam) would do his utmost to make the "bitches" move the boulders. The Man who made his bitch move the rock the furthest would win. Then he took wagers from all the Men.
Christopher blew a whistle, and my misery began.
The other Free Men watched and shouted encouragement in the shade of the back patio as Master Adam viciously whipped my back and ass. Over and over I strained to move that fucking boulder. Sweat was soon running off my body as I was pulled by the bit to the right and then to the left, then back to the right, and then to the left. But it was no use. I just couldn't move that rock. It wasn't possible.
"Come on, Adam!" Daniel shouted. "You can do it!"
"Make that fucker move, big bro!" Christopher called out.
"Don't let that pantywaist slack off, Adam!" Master Witt grunted.
Inwardly, I screamed. I screamed at God. I screamed at these men. But most of all, I screamed at myself. Why was I such a fuckin' pussy? Why couldn't I just obey orders?
Adam redoubled his efforts, slashing at me unmercilessly. When he shouted 'gee', I tugged to the right. When he shouted 'haw', I pulled to the left.
Driven into a frenzy, straining, and soon foaming at the mouth, I tugged and strained, pushing past my limits. And somehow, miraculously, I felt the boulder give, as it slowly slid out of the ground. As I strained and strained, the rock slowly was extracted from the bedrock. The successful extraction, and egged on by cheers and cat-calls from the group, drove Master Adam to whip me harder and harder, and with more creative cruelty. "Encouraged" by the pain inflicted by Adam's whip, I dragged that massive fucking rock across the yard.
The Free Men were shouting. It was like they were watching the Kentucky Derby. So focused was I on dragging the rock that I didn't even see the other drudges. But as I reached the far wall, I saw that they were nowhere near me. Had I really beaten those huge hulks?! It didn't seem possible. Had I actually actually won in a strength contest against those brutes?
I collapsed to the ground as Master Adam unfastened my tethers. I lay there panting, physically unable to move. I was beyond exhausted.
"Holy shit, that was fucking amazing," Christopher said, as he walked up.
"Indeed it was," Master Jake agreed. "Well done, son," he said, patting Adam on the shoulder.
"Adam, how did you get the bitch to move so fast?" asked Master Witt.
"It's all in my book, guys. Chapter 17," Master Adam said with a grin. "Anything's possible, if you whip the bitch into a frenzy and stimulate its adrenal gland. The adrenaline rush will cause the bitch to pull any size load, for a short distance, no matter how fuckin' big that load is. You all just need to learn the technique."
The Free Men chattered, as they congratulated Adam on his win. Beers were opened in celebration. At some point, I think Randy and Saul came over to congratulate Master Adam as they exchanged money, but I was so out of it, I don't even remember. I just lay there, crumpled against the south garden wall, panting, as the men partied on the patio. They drank a lot of beer. At some point, Randy and Saul and their bitches must have left my party, but I don't remember that, either. I might have passed out for a while.
Later, I heard my Masters approach me once more.
"Guys, I think we need to reward Shithead for his effort. I think a piss break is in order," Adam said as he fished his big cock out of his pants. "Gotta make sure the bitch is hydrated before its next competition." Next competition?! I couldn't even move!
"Toilet, quit being lazy and assume the position," Master Adam snapped.
I just couldn't move. On orders from Adam, though, I somehow found a way to stagger to my knees. I was so weak I could barely assume the position.
And then Master Adam pissed on my face. He avoided my mouth at first, and pissed in my eyes, and on my forehead, and on my nose, before finally pissing in my mouth. I drank it, knowing it was likely the only hydration I would get. It was shameful, and humiliating, but it was what I deserved, I knew.
"Taste that beer, faggot? That's celebration piss," Master Adam hissed, as Christopher and Daniel and Master Witt howled with laughter.
Then Adam stood aside as Master Witt took his place. He cut loose with a big, smelly fart as he drained his bladder into his toilet's mouth. Laughter prevailed as the stench permeated the air.
Each man took his turn pissing in my mouth. Christopher, Daniel, and then my Step-Master. "Mighty gratifying to a see a servant trained in a professional manner," said Master Jake as he shook the last of his piss all over my face. "Now on to the Horse Races!" shouted Adam as he grabbed me and led me down to the end of the yard, out the gate and onto the sidewalk behind the property. "This will require teamwork on all of our parts."
Adam led me to the end of the sidewalk by the garden wall. Along the wall was a long wooden table with many things covered by a blue plastic tarp. Master Adam reached under the tarp and removed what looked like gardening knee pads. "I'm respecting Mr. Witt's property today by allowing you to wear these. Put these on now, cocksucker." He chuckled to himself and then said, "You may wish you were sucking cock."
My Masters stood around as Master Adam then had me kneel, and then placed my wrists in handcuffs. He then reached down and grabbed my balls and pulled them upward from behind.
"I believe Dad said you guys have used a humbler on this bitch previously. Can you assist me to place these?" Christopher helped fasten me into the diabolical device. Adam checked to make sure the humbler had my nuts tightly secured. I was shaking as they fastened my balls in. I remembered the last time it had been used on me, and it had been horrible.
Then Adam moved in front of me and held my face up by grabbing me by the jaw again.
"Humility is an important aspect of labor training. Without it, there is always a shadow of resistance that lingers in the enslaved. It is not something that can be achieved overnight, nor something that can be neglected. It is an ongoing process that paves the road to total submission. Yes, it is true it provides a Free Man with a form of entertainment, and it is also true that it may be painful for the bitch enduring it. But what the fuck!"
Master Adam then released my head and removed the tarp. I groaned in misery as I saw what had been gathered on the table. There were dozens of belts, whips and assorted punishment items. Riding crops. Strops. Things I didn't recognize. There were also several buckets and a jug of some sort of amber fluid.
Master Adam removed the cover from the one bucket and set it next to me. It was filled with stinking horse turds. Then he placed the other bucket on my right side. Into it he poured the contents of the large jug.
"Shithead, listen carefully to my instructions. We are going to play a fun little game. You will take one of these horse biscuits out of the bucket using your mouth hole. Drop it into the bucket containing horse piss. Then retrieve it, kind of like bobbing for apples, except these are horse apples. Then place it on the starting line which is the crack in the sidewalk. When I say 'go', you will roll that horse turd using your nose only. No using your hands. If you over-soak the turd in the piss it will crumble and you have to start the process over. If it goes off the track you start over. If your head hits the turd wrong and it crumbles you start over. Your goal is to scoot that turd to the finish line: six sections of sidewalk, which is only thirty feet. You will have a Free Man jockey assigned to each section. Each jockey will have an encouragement tool to spur you along the track. Your master gets the first section and the last section. He will also have the pick of any of the tools on the last section. Oh, fuck, I almost forgot something."
"Can't have our horsey boy race without his tail," he said, as he grabbed a buttplug with a long horse tail attached. "Also need some nice horse liniment to warm his flanks," he said as he applied some icy-hot to the buttplug and shoved it into my asshole.
"Do you understand your goal, horsey?"
"Please don't make me do this, Master," I whispered. Deep within me, I felt the sting of the "horse linament". It was starting to burn. I could also feel my balls squeezed by the humbler everytime I moved.
"The more your resist, the harder the jockeys will have to be on you," replied Master Adam. "Are the jockeys ready?"
"Adam, this seems almost seems needlessly harsh," Master Jake said. "Is this truly necessary?"
"Dad, you said it yourself: you've had constant discipline issues from Day One: the lying, the stealing, the disobedience. Didn't you tell me this bitch actually stole your wedding ring?"
"He did," Master Jake allowed.
"And yet, you continue making excuses and you continue coddling the bitch," Master Adam said. "That's why you continue to have discipline problems with this bitch. It couldn't even be bothered to remember a simple grocery list the other day."
"That's true," Master Jake admitted.
"It doesn't respect you, because a true servant could remember a simple grocery list. Trust me, Dad, by the end of the day, this bitch will truly learn what 'submission' means. And George will finally have a drudge that shows him the proper deference that a bitch needs to show its Master."
"Jake, I trust your son is doing only what's necessary," Master Witt said. "He's a professional in the industry, after all."
"It just... it just almost seems like torture, is all," Jake said.
"This is simply standard procedure, Dad," Master Adam explained. "Just 'enhanced discipline'. Government approved. Would a branch of the US government ever engage in torture?"
"No, of course not," Master Jake said.
"Not the greatest country in the world," Adam explained. "And yet, these techniques are endorsed by state and local governments, from Georgia to Texas."
"Well, you're the expert, Adam," Jake said, shaking his head slowly. "I suppose you're right. I just sometimes worry about Dick's well-being..."
"The bitch'll be fine, Dad," Adam scoffed. "Alright, let's get started."
Master Witt chose a dog whip and stood alongside me at the starting line. Jake chose the leather strop that he had used on me in the past. Adam took the third section with a cattle prod in his hand. Christopher took a willow switch and Daniel had a riding crop in hand.
"Get that horse biscuit in place, boah!" Master Witt shouted.
I reluctantly stuck my head close to the stinking bucket of horse turds. The smell was horrific. The idea was horrific. I felt like my last shred of dignity was being stripped away. Forced to put a horse turd in my mouth? 'God, why?' I cried inside. But God hates my kind, I knew. Why else would I be punished like this? I knew it was somehow my fault. For being gay. For disobeying. For signing over my life to Master Jake. For existing.
Apparently my hesitance prompted Master to apply the dog whip to my backside.
'Encouraged' by the whip, I... wrapped my mouth around a disgusting HORSE TURD and pulled it out of the bucket with my mouth, and then dropped it into the horse piss bucket. I then tried to retrieve it, but it was not easy. It was impossible not to taste the nasty piss as I tried to get the turd up against the rim of the bucket. I finally managed to grip that fucking turd in my mouth and pull it out of the bucket, my face dripping with horse piss.
I carefully placed that nasty thing on the starting line and stuck my nose against the turd. The smell was awful and the position forced me to keep my ass in a very vulnerable position. This was even worse than the day I had to clean up all the dog turds. Some of these horse turds looked enormous.
"The horse is in the starting gate!" shouted Master Witt, followed by hoots and hollers from all the men. The enjoyment of debasing me in this manner along with the alcohol they had consumed seemed to fuel their sadomasochism. "Go!" shouted Adam.
At first, I was reluctant to push against the piss-saturated ball of horse shit. It seemed better to try to roll it but that brought my nose in contact with it longer.
I began rolling the fucking horse turd with my nose, down the sidewalk. The whip used by Master Adam was relentless. The impact against my flesh caused me to jerk, which brought additional pain to my nuts and could potentially cause me to damage the horse biscuit.
I had just reached the first crack, which would have been Master Jake's territory, when the turd split in half.
"New biscuit, new biscuit!" shouted my Masters.
"Removal of damaged turds from the track are prohibited," shouted Master Adam.
The new turd was even larger and stretched my mouth obscenely. Christopher made me look at him as he took my picture. The size of the horse turd also made the ordeal at the horse piss bucket that much harder. I rolled that fucking thing down the sidewalk with my nose. Down the sidewalk, 'encouraged' by Master Adam's whip.
I made it again to the first crack, where Master Jake applied the leather strop with vigor.
The larger turd was easier to roll and it seemed less fragile. I was able to roll it more quickly. As I rolled that fucking thing into Master Adam's territory, he placed the tip of his electric prod against my testicles. The shock forced me to lurch, and my face smashed down against the horse shit. The air was filled with uncontrolled laughter. Christopher even fell to the ground, he was laughing so hard. Then he forced me to pose for another picture, this time with a shit-smeared nose and cheek, horse piss still dripping down my chin.
I was forced to roll four more turds down the sidewalk before I finally made it to the end. My ass, balls, legs, and back all suffered from the cruelty of the jockeys. Only then were my hands uncuffed.
Afterwards, Christopher made me pose for photos with my Masters in what he called the winner's circle. They had me pose on all fours sideways as each of the men had one boot up on my back. Master Witt then wanted one more. He went down to the end and grabbed the bucket of horse shit.
They then resumed the same pose but this time he forced my head into the bucket with his boot.
After the photos, I was then turned over to Christopher and Daniel, who took me back to the house to clean up and prepare for the "Service" portion of my going-away party.
Christopher and Daniel led me into the greenhouse. Christopher sprayed me using the garden hose while Daniel squirted dish soap over my shaved head. Then Daniel used a long-handled coarse scrub brush over my entire body. It entertained both of them when I flinched when the brush came in contact with my swollen and enflamed buttocks and ballocks.
"What a pussy. Nobody likes a dirty pussy," Christopher said with a laugh, as both Free Men grabbed me by the ears and frog-marched me upstairs. I couldn't believe what they did next.
Meanwhile, George, Jake, and Adam relaxed in the comfort of the covered patio area. All had worked up an appetite and were looking forward to Dick's serving of the lunch.
Jake again posed the question, "George, do you really feel you are getting a full return on your investment of Dick? I think you really are underutilizing his capabilities. As perverse as it may seem, the boy has a natural need to... serve a Master fully. I think you need to open your eyes to this fact. My younger sons have promised a big surprise for the afternoon entertainment."
The air filled with the sound of soft, seductive music. The patio doors opened and out walked a sexy looking woman.
The men's heads turned in amazement as they saw me.
"Who...? No fucking way!" exclaimed Master Witt.
Master Adam was grinning from ear to ear; he knew what his brothers had planned.
I was clumsy in my high heels, and struggled to balance a tray of salads.
The boys had apparently discovered a porn store in Madison that had a section catering to trannies. They had made me put on this flesh-like outfit that actually had tits built into it and a hairy cunt down below. It slipped on from the front with two straps which came up over my asscheeks and fastened on the back. Once in place, it was zippered up on the back and formed a tight form-fitting false skin.
Then my 'pussy' was covered with a frilly pair of see thru panties. Over my 'breasts' they had me put on a red bra, and then had me don black fishnet stockings with a red garter belt. They put a black shoulder length wig on my bald head, and then added slutty make-up. Red high heels completed my transformation.
I placed the tray on a adjacent table to where the men where sitting. I then turned and faced the Free Men who seemed amazed at my transformation.
"Mister Witt, may I present to you our slut for the meal," said Daniel. "What is your name, miss?"
"My name is Miss Sharon Cox and I am here to serve you," I said, as I had been told to say.
The men roared with laughter.
"Allow your masters to examine you closer."
I approached Master Witt slowly. He grabbed my left titty and squeezed it. "Holy shit, it feels like the real thing."
He ran his hand up and down my backside feeling the silky textures and smelling the perfume. He ran his meaty palm over the hairy vagina and rubbed his thumb over my "pussy".
"Let Jake have a feel," Master Witt grunted, as he slapped my slutty ass. Master Jake's reaction was similar as he examined the make-over of his former drudge. He also had me bend over and he pushed his middle finger into my mouth deep, in the process smearing my freshly-applied lipstick.
He then ran that finger up my tight asshole.
"That's a tight fuckhole there Miss," Master Jake groaned.
"You can now begin to serve us," Christopher instructed.
Christopher and Daniel joined the others at the patio table as 'Sharon Cox' served the salads.
"Freshen our drinks, slut," Adam ordered. I hurried to obey.
When I returned with a tray of drinks the salad bowls were ready to be removed. I then returned to the kitchen to get the main course which I then served. I stood to the side as the Men ate their meals.
"Make yourself useful, whore," Christopher demanded. "Our guest and your Master could use a foot massage while he eats."
All eyes were on me in my slutty outfit as I crawled from the end of the glass table to the other end where Master Witt was sitting. I had to slip the work boots off his stinky, smelly feet along with his socks. I had been given detailed instructions as to how I should seduce Master Witt by Christopher and Daniel with the threat that if I failed there would be hell to pay.
Master Witt had been a force to reckon with when it came to hard labor, but he had not used me sexually. Now that would all change if Jake's boys had their way. At least I avoid a severe beating like I had experienced earlier in the week.
I forced my tongue to run up and down Master Witt's stinky feet. I had been instructed to suck his toes as if it was his cock.
"Man oh man, that feels fucking good," Master Witt moaned. "Sends tingles right up to my balls."
"I told you, George, that you are not getting the maximum return on your investment."
Once I could tell that they had finished the main course, I stood up to collect the dishes. As I placed Master Witt's plate on the stack, I felt his big hand on my ass. It then moved to the crack of my ass, and he was soon rubbing my asshole.
I almost dropped the stack of plates.
Master Witt turned to Jake. "You know, Jake, I get the feeling that this bitch wants to be fucked tonight. She sure seems more than willing to do everything a hooker would do."
"That's what I was trying to tell you George. It took me a while to see it also but you have hit the nail on the head," stated Jake. "This slut has a natural drive to serve Free Men."
As I walked slowly towards the sitting men I noticed the smiles on all of their faces. Some dark side of my sexuality was surfacing despite my immense dislike for these men. As fucked up as it was, I wanted to please them. I even wanted to be used by them. My dick was hardening as I approached.
"May I serve dessert now, Masters?"
"No dessert. Not just yet," Master Adam said. "I think it is time to get on your knees and crawl to your Master and state your desires. I know you desire your Master Witt. Now is the time to confess."
I lowered myself to the ground and crawled across the patio on my hands and knees toward Master Witt, who sat with a shit-eating grin on his face. The alcohol and the activities of the day seemed to have erased any moral reservation he had.
"I confess to you my willing desire to please you, Master Witt. I want to taste your mighty cock, balls and ass. I wish for you to fuck me tonight, here, in front of everyone. I am your humble and lowly sexual servant as well as your field servant. I am yours to take as you so desire."
"I feel like I'm on my second honeymoon," he whispered. "My wife is no longer interested in sex..."
As Master Witt rose to lower his pants and underwear, Jake smiled proudly at his boys.
Master Witt dropped his overalls and then lowered his briefs. As he sat back down, a mighty python rose in front of my eyes. Witt had the nuts of a bull and the cock of a horse.
All of the other men watched in amazement.
"Sharon Cox, suck my cock," he ordered.
I was dumbstruck when I saw the enormity of the task ahead. I started with some small licks along the shaft. His cock stood strong like the shaft of a mighty piston. His foreskin covered most of the apple-shaped head of his prick. I licked along the rim of his foreskin and flicked his pisshole with my tongue.
"Holy shit almighty," Master Witt groaned as he grabbed the back of my wig-covered head. "Let me feel that hot pussy mouth."
He jammed his huge schlong deep into my mouth pussy.
Fortunately he released my head so I could reposition my mouth on Master Witt's dick. I had taken a lot of cocks into my mouth hole in the past year, but this was the ultimate. I hoped that if I could suck good enough I could get Master Witt off before he could even think about doing my throat.
"Lick my nuts, slut."
Master's nuts were aromatic to say the least, but the sweaty taste caused my stomach to retch. I licked and sucked his giant nuts the best I could.
Master Witt rose from the table. "Now I want that ass fuck that you begged me for, bitch."
The other men cheered and chanted, "Fuck that slut! Fuck that slut!"
Master Witt positioned himself behind me and pushed me down onto the patio table. He slowly slid the white panties down. Then he rubbed his giant tusk against my greased fuckhole. Fortunately Jake's sons had lubed my ass; they had heard a rumor that Witt carried a mighty piece in his pants.
All of them would have paid good money though to see this spectacle: a man fucking a sexy woman. I could see the tents in Daniel's and Jake's pants. Christopher and Adam had already pulled their pricks out of their jeans, and were rubbing their hard cocks.
Master Witt rubbed his fingers up against the hairy pussy. Then he put his big prong back up against my ass. He actually entered me slowly. This, however, did not prevent me from letting loose with a blood-curdling scream. It hurt! Oh God, how it hurt!
Adam was quick to seize the moment. "I think the slut needs a pacifier to calm herself. Suck on this, bitch," he said, as he pushed his big cock into my mouth.
Master Witt's dong was encased in what must have been the tightest piece of flesh that he had felt in years.
"If only my old lady's pussy would feel like this," he moaned, as he slowly started moving his hips as Master Adam's thrusts were forcing me back onto his mighty prong.
"Feel this, bitch", he groaned, as he slammed his big spear deep into my hot ass. He began pounding my ass with his huge dong. He must not have had sex in a long time, because it didn't take him long to approach climax. Watching his sexy whore choking and sputtering on Adam's big prick sent him quickly over the edge. His bellow was as loud as a bull getting castrated.
My shit canal felt like it was scalded by hot lava, as he came and came.
When at last he pulled out, cum dripped out of my used hole. Master Adam was johnny on the spot, pulling out of my mouth hole and walking around behind me to fill the void I felt as my hole tried to resume some normalcy. I felt Adam enter me. Then I saw Master Jake, naked and hard, appear in front of me.
He pushed his big cock into my mouth, shoving himself into my throat. "Suck me, Sharon," he ordered.
Both father and son then tried to outdo each other with the intensity of their thrusts. As Adam pounded me from behind, Jake poled my face. "Let's drown this bitch in cum, son," Jake moaned, as they skewered me from both ends.
Master Adam began spanking my butt cheeks, making them glowed with redness, as he continued fucking my servile ass. His thrusts pushed me hard onto Jake's big fuck-stick. Over and over they fucked me from both ends, and eventually, after about a half hour of fucking, they shot their big loads into 'Sharon Cox'. Then it was Daniel and Christopher's turn. Daniel and Christopher then fucked me for quite a while. My asshole was fucked raw.
After everyone had shot their loads, I was ordered to serve dessert, and the men smoked some cigars and weed. As I rose from the table, I saw from my reflection in the glass patio doors that my make-up was smeared and the wig was askew. I served them dessert as cum leaked out of my ass and down my legs.
After some small talk, Master Witt at last announced that we were going to make our departure.
"Come on, Shithead. Let's go home. You have work in the morning," he said. "Boys, what do I owe you for Sharon's costume?"
"Oh, don't worry about it, Mr. Witt," Christopher said. "It was our pleasure."
"Call me George, please," he replied. "And I won't hear of it." He dropped a couple of bills on the table, and then we headed out to his pickup, me stumbling in my high heels. Then, in the driveway, he made me pull off the trannie costume and the wig and shoes, and then had me get into the back of the pickup. Then he chained me, naked spread-eagled, onto the bed of the truck, leaving the tailgate down.
"Jake, thank you for the fun and productive party," Master Witt said, as he shook my stepfather's hand.
"Any time, George," Jake said. "I just appreciate you loaning Dick out to us as needed. I suppose we'll need Dick's services on maybe a quarterly basis until he's finished his years of service, if you don't mind."
"Not at all, Jake! Not at all!" Master Witt said with a laugh, as he got into the cab of the truck. "I suppose I'll be seeing you all real soon!"
The pickup started, and I was driven away from the Head household back to Witt Farms.
My life went back to being that of a hard-labor farm drudge, whip-trained and disciplined. But now Master Witt used me when he wife had one of her headaches, which was often. Occasionally, the Heads came out to "visit" me on the farm, and sometimes I was brought in to town for occasional "parties".
It was a miserable life that I endured for the next seven years.
To be continued...