HARBOUR MASTER, Part 18
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Matt was still lying there when I got back, although judging by the way all the clothes on the bed were arrayed, he'd been struggling mightily to try to escape.
"Right, Matt. Now let me give your next lesson in being a slave. I've just shown the doctor how it feels to be circumcised, and now I'm going to show you how it feels to live as a slave."
I fetched two pieces of rope from the garage, and stood there, looking at him. "Right - legs in the air, and as far back as you can get them... I need to be able to get at your balls, and your ass crack."
Matt did nothing, and so I went to pick up one of his legs. He resisted with all his might, and even tried to kick me with the leg I wasn't holding.
"Naughty, Matt! I think you're piling up a lot of punishment for yourself. Now....."
I reached in between his flailing legs and took a firm grip on his balls. "Now, you stupid fucker, lie still and do as you're told. You've only still got those balls now as I'm choosing, for the time being, not to castrate you as you were planning to do to me. Lift your left leg in the air..."
I gave his balls a little squeeze as I said this, to emphasise the powerlessness of his position. Reluctantly Matt raised his leg, and I seized it, tied rope around his ankle, then pulled it up and backwards. I did the same with the right leg, and Matt's feet were hovering somewhere over his shoulders. He was totally unable to move, and was spread out in the classic "fucking" position, when you normally get the guy to grab his own ankles as you don't want them around your neck.
To emphasise my control, I leaned forward and rubbed a finger over his hole - he winced, and I could see from the way it was all red and angry looking that he must be in some pain following his rape. "Sorry, Matt", I said conversationally. "But sex can be rough when there's an aggressive top in control and the bottom doesn't cooperage fully. You'll remember next time, though, won't you, and try not to piss me off?"
I turned and went into the bathroom and came back with the electric hair clippers. As Matt watched helplessly, totally unable to move, I used them to shave the thick hair off the inside of his thighs, and along the track between his hole and the base of his balls. I then ran it on up, taking as much hair off his balls as I could, then held his dick with one hand and moved it from side to side as I generally tidied up the unruly mass of his pubic hair.
"Don't worry, Matt. I've decided you can keep some of your pubic hair, as I think the totally shaved look makes you look like a schoolboy! But I don't like all that mass of hair spreading from thigh to thigh, so I've given you a neat 'slave trim' - you know, as you gave me every week or so. Now you know what's coming next, don't you? Every two days, what do you make me do? I have to kneel there in the bathroom whilst you watch me shave my ass and my balls. You told me you like to see slaves with bare balls, as it makes them look bigger.... Well.... I think you're right! A neatly trimmed pubic bush, and clean shaven balls, do make the slave's tackle look bigger and more prominent. So that's what going to happen to you."
I took the shaving brush, lathered it up, and covered his balls and ass area with white foam. Matt had been good in allowing me to use disposable razors to shave myself, so I now used three of them to carefully shave all around his hole, then all the way to his balls, and finally to clean all the stubble that the clippers had left from the balls themselves. Remembering how I had lain there terrified the first time someone had done this intimate thing to me, I was careful to cause him no real pain but occasionally to "touch" his balls awkwardly, just enough to make him start, and to worry!
When I'd done, I undid the ropes and he was again lying flat on the bed in front of me. I ran my hands up from his newly trimmed pubic bush along the little trail of hair that ran across his belly, then riffled my fingers through the thick thatch of hair on his chest.
"You told me you liked my 'treasure trail', Matt. And you didn't trim my chest as you said it made me look virile, so you can keep yours for now - but I may decide I want you to be a bit more 'sculptured', so that men can see more of your musculature, and so you may have to lose it later. There's only three places to be done now, thought - your pits, your head, and your ass crack."
It was easy to do his pits - with his wrists restrained behind his neck, they were fully exposed and I easily trimmed the long hair there down to a more respectable half inch - I don't like to see a man's armpit hair sticking out from between his body and his arm when he's at "rest". But to do his head, and his ass crack, I had to undo the tie that was holding his collar to the bed post.
Matt stupidly tried to hit me and make another run for it as I released him, and so I had to knock him to the floor again, quite hard. I sat astride his body whilst I used the electric clippers to reduce his head hair all over to a uniform quater inch - he looked much more virile, and much tougher, with his wavy hair left lying on the floor.
"OK, Matt, almost there! Now, up off the floor, and lie on the bed, face down, with your feet on the floor."
He really struggled to get up - you try, with your hands cuffed as his were. I saw he was learning, though, as he made no attempt to run this time. He lay there, face down, and I spread his ass cheeks apart with one hand, so that I could get one of the little plastic razors down there and shave away the hairs in his crack.
"All done!", I said cheerfully, giving his ass a friendly slap (although a hard one!). "Come and look at the new Matt in the mirror."
He stood there, looking at himself, and I commented "Without all that hair on your head, you look much tougher - and a few years younger, I think! But look at your dick - isn't it amazing how much bigger it looks? Not that it was actually small, but now it looks as massive as it actually is. And your balls are improved, too, aren't they? Look, compare them with mine, now we've both got them prominently on display. Take a few steps..."
Matt moved across the room.
"Feels different, doesn't it? Without all those hairs down your crack, you can feel your ass cheeks moving together."
"Now", I went on, "You will in future shave your face every two or three days - just as you did for me, I like to see a man with a bit of stubble on his face as it makes him look tougher and more virile. But I don't like to feel stubble around the balls - so, at the same time, you will shave your balls and your crack. OK?"
Matt just stood there, so I went and stood beside him.
I pressed my foot down on to his, and pushed hard! The tough sole of my foot pushed the top of his foot down, and he tried to scream through the gag. "Hurts, doesn't it, Matt? A heavy guy like me stepping on your foot? No damage, though, as it's my naked foot on yours. But if you continue to defy me by not answering my reasonable questions, I'll make you hurt a lot more!"
"Now, do you understand my instructions for keeping yourself neat and tidy, in the way I like?"
He was seeing sense - I was gaining, as Matt nodded.
"Right, we're out of here then. We can't stay, as too many people know me as a slave and you as a master. We'll go somewhere where they'll think you're the slave... And that takes money! Now, isn't it about 15K you're hiding from the IRS... Lucky you were mostly a cash business. And isn't it all in your safe?"
Matt was looking frantic now, as we went downstairs and I pulled away the wall hanging that was hiding Matt's safe.
"As you can't do it, Matt, I'll have to work the combination.... Now, that's the first number?"
Matt just stood there, so I reached down and grabbed his balls. "Look, fucker, this is not a game! I need that money to make my escape. And if I can't escape, you're going to lose these. Now.... What's the first number?"
I had to really hurt him, I think, as he was writhing on the floor after a couple of minutes - it was his own fault though, wasn't it? A slave shouldn't have any secrets from his master, especially where money is concerned! As soon as I sensed he was ready to give it up, I knelt beside him and got him to "tell" me the six numbers by asking him successive questions to which he could nod or shake his head.
He actually had close to 16K in there, and I knew we had a good start - clearly we couldn't use Matt's credit cards, as they could so easily trace where the transactions were performed.
"Right - everything a slave needs... Except one thing... A tracker chip!"
I was still naked all this time, and now I squatted on the floor in front of Matt and tried to crap. I was used to him seeing me doing this, of course, as he'd made me do it totally in public on our first day together, and ever since he allowed me absolutely no privacy in the bathroom. I strained and pushed, and I thought Matt thought I wanted to crap all over the living room! But all I did was squeeze the little steel cylinder that was the 'tracker' out of my ass, where I'd been concealing it.
"Yes, Matt", I told him. "This is why I can escape from you. I have managed to get the 'tracker' chip removed. So the Slave Police can no longer track me. I can disappear back into the ranks of the free men. And with your 16K, that would be easy to do - I think that's a fair payment for the work I've done for you. But of course it doesn't compensate me for being tattooed, 'skinned, and branded. And for all the misery and worry from your threats of slicing and castration. You've got to pay me for those, too, and there's not enough money in the world to do that - instead, I've decided to have you serve as my slave."
"Now, lie quiet a minute whilst I go back upstairs and get something.... Don't try to rush for the door - if I hear it open, I'll be down here and I'll beat the life half out of you. Understand?"
I think I was getting through to Matt, as he gave a sort of resigned shrug. I wasn't in much danger, as with his hands cuffed he'd have had problems in opening the front door - and I could easily catch him, I thought.
Upstairs in the bathroom cabinet was some "instant analgesic" spray that Bill had bought when he'd been having a bit of a problem with his shoulder after he'd done something stupid whilst swimming. I collected it, and went back downstairs and also got some olive oil from the kitchen.
"OK, Matt. You've got to be 'chipped' now. This little tracker has to be inserted up your ass. I can't get it as far up as they did at the slave centre, but I think I can locate it so that it doesn't interfere with my dick whilst I'm, fucking you. So get and kneel of the coffee table, and push your shoulders down so your ass is high in the air...."
Matt whimpered something from behind his gag. I guessed what he was saying.
"I'm not a sadist, you know. I'll only hurt you when you deserve punishment, or when I want to teach you a lesson. You've been punished today when I fucked you, and I don't need to teach you how much that hurts again. So I've got this spray to cool your inflamed membranes whilst I get inside you.... Now.... Just keep still!"
I pushed his ass apart, and sprayed the soothing spray onto the inflamed membrane of his hole. It looked so red and angry, that I almost felt sorry for him. He flinched as the cold spray hit him, as you'd expect, but then seemed calmer. I didn't want to jerk him off again, so I used the olive oil to lube his hole, then, very, very gently, as Grant had taught me, I stretched Matt's hole using first one, then two, then three fingers.
"Keep still, boy!", I commanded him. I stuck the little tracker cylinder, with its vicious barbed hooks still bound in sticky tape, into the end of one of the candles on the dining table - it was quite warm in the house, so the wax was relatively pliable and I could push it in just a little. Using the candle as a handle, I gingerly unwound the sticky tape, just leaving a tiny bit so that the barbs were only held in position by a thread - an sudden shock and they'd spring free.
"Stay there, boy!", I snapped, as Matt had showed signs of restlessness whilst I'd been doing this delicate operation. I went into the kitchen and got the emergency flashlight, then I again pushed his ass cheeks apart, and once more stretched him so that my three fingers were leaving a sizeable entrance into his ass. I had to hold the torch in my mouth so that I could look up his hole - all the red, pulsating flesh up there was, shall we say, "interesting"! Then, with my other hand, I ever so carefully pushed the candle holding the cylinder through the hole in my fingers, and guided it towards what looked like a safe place in Matt's inside.
Once I was satisfied that I'd got it as right as I could, and the cylinder was so far in it wouldn't interfere with a dick, I pushed the end of the candle hard, making the cylinder collide with Matt's insides.
At once the tiny bit of sticky tape gave way, and the barbed ends of the cylinder snapped closed, anchoring it to Matt.
He didn't feel a thing, of course, as there's no nerve endings up there to speak of - all the sensation you get when you're being fucked is mostly from your hole, isn't it?
I had to hold his hole open for a few moments so I could peer up using the torch to make sure all was well - there was some blood, from the barbs, but it seemed to be under control, so I eased my fingers out, and gave the whole area another spray of the analgesic.
"Right, Matt, on your feet! I think it's going to hold inside you, and I'll just have to watch you crapping for the next few days to make sure it isn't dislodged and comes out in your shit. Don't let me see you shitting without me being there, or else I will take the whip to you, understand?"
Matt nodded, although I could see he was unhappy at the concept of me watching him crap.
Matt's clothes were scattered around the living room, and I now went and pulled on his shorts - it didn't feel all that odd, as I'd been wearing shorts at Grant's. But when I went to put on his socks and trainers, it felt distinctly strange - I hadn't worn anything on my feet since enslavement, and having them confined in trainers was a great restriction. Fortunately Matt and I were the same size, and everything fitted, and the only other thing to do was to put a shirt on - I couldn't have people reading my tattooed back, could I? Having my pecs, back and belly covered was almost hateful - if the weather is mild, everyone would rather go around bare chested, wouldn't they? But there was some compensation - I got the delicious heady odour of Matt's pits as I donned his shirt, and I knew that the body that had produced this man scent was now completely under my control. I was so used to being naked that I almost forgot to go back upstairs and throw a few more pairs of socks, another pair of shorts, and two or three Ts and polos into the bag with the 16K.
I came back, and said "Right, Matt - off to our new life. Come on, off to your truck - where are the keys?"
As I opened the front door, Matt cowered back. Because of the parking restrictions in the port area the truck is always parked about six minutes walk away, and even this late in the season, and this late at night, there are always tourists around taking the night air. I sensed that Matt was embarrassed about exposing himself to them.
"Now, don't be a stupid slave!" I told him. "Those free men and women out there have all seen a slave's dick and balls before. And now you're decently shaved and tidied up, you've got nothing to be embarrassed about. It would be different if you were a real man, exposing yourself to them, but everyone expects big buck male slaves to be naked. You had me work naked, if you remember, so you know it's perfectly all right:
I was wearing shorts to hide my nakedness, but you made me get rid of them to please the doctor. So stop wasting time, and follow me!"
He just stood there, and didn't do as I'd said. So I reached out and took hold of his dick. He was flaccid, and it wasn't particularly easy to grip, so I started to stroke and tease him, running my finger over his piss slit and the sensitive area immediately underneath where the flange joins the head tissue: he soon became erect, and I then had a very convenient handle to pull him along with - he couldn't resist, as when you're cuffed, someone pulling you by the dick can be very persuasive.
I knew Matt hated being towed along behind me like that. And I didn't much like it, either. Even though the temperature was still in the fifties, it felt very cool and I heard several of the evening strollers say things like "Oh, look at that poor slave - his master's making him come out this evening naked, and he seems to be shivering. It really is too bad - some masters just don't treat slaves properly. I wonder how he would like it, if he was made to go naked in this weather?" I didn't respond to any of this, of course, and those folks will probably never know how much I could have told them about being naked, not just in the air, but in the cold sea!
We got to the truck, and I told Matt that he was going to lie in the back. I used some of the chain that was always lying around to couple his collar ring to the truck body, then pulled an old piece of tarp over him to give him some protection from the night air. Then we were off, away, out of the town, heading for freedom for me, and servitude for Matt.
I was very careful to drive within the law, but after couple of hours, when it was almost midnight, I saw lights flashing up ahead. There was no way to turn off, so I just had to stick with it and brazen it out.
There was a Highway Patrol car and two cops manning a road block, and I stopped.
"Hey, bud, get out!", the bigger, older, cop snapped. "Where have you come from? The coast?"
"Yes, officer..."
"Hey, Greg", he said to the younger cop "This guy matches the description of that escaped slave perfectly. Same age, same height... And a big muscled guy."
"Hey, buddy... We've got reports of an escaped slave who roughed up an important doctor before fleeing. We're stopping all the traffic - and you match the description of the man we want."
"No, officer, you've got it wrong! I'm not slave - I'm a free man, just like you..."
"Greg - bring over the scanner. We'll soon settle this!"
The young cop went to the patrol car and came back with a loop of wire that ran into a little control box.
"Lean against the car, and spread them!", the older cop snapped, and then did a quick "patting" search of my clothes. "OK, Greg, scan him - there's no metal here stopping the signal."
The younger cop ran the loop down my body, and said "No, Sarge, no signal. Not a dickybird."
The older cop looked bit disappointed, and rather regretfully said to me "Sorry, sir. But I'm sure you realise we can't be too careful when there's a lave doing a runner - especially when he's attacked a free man. Young Greg and I were hoping to catch him and really show him what punishment's all about, before the courts get hold of him - they'll just order his execution, but we want him to know that you can't go around attacking real men! Anyway, sorry again - call
911 if you see any suspicious people along the route - men trying to hitch, that sort of thing."
"Yes, officer, I will. And no problem - we do need to keep those slaves under control."
I was about to get in, when there was a banging from the back of the truck. The two officers went over with their torches, pulled back the tarp, and saw Matt there.
"What's this, sir?"
"Just a new slave I bought yesterday. He' s not broken or anything."
"He's trying to say something", the younger officer, Greg, reported. It sounds like he's trying to tell us he's a free man...."
"No, he's a slave", I told him. "Look, he's cuffed, gagged, his pubes are trimmed and his balls have been shaved - they do that at the sales, you know."
"Sorry, sir, but we need to check", the sergeant said.
"There have been some cases of free men being kidnapped and sold into slavery in this area. Greg - bring the scanner."
They ran the scanner over Matt, and, of course, it reported the presence of the tracker chip.
"Again, sorry to have troubled you, sir. But it's clear he's a slave, as the transponder was activated by our scanner. We'll let you get on your way."
As they'd been looking at Matt I couldn't help noticing that the sergeant's tight blue pants had shown a decided bulge at the front.
"This slave almost got me into a lot of trouble, sergeant, pretending he was still free. I think he needs disciplining. Is it possible that you and your officer might help me...?"
"I'm sorry, sir, but State law prohibits officers on duty from any form of sexual intercourse - the law's a jackass, I know, as it was brought in when it was thought that male officers might harass female officers. But we're not even allowed to fondle or chastise slaves any more. I'm sorry, sir, but it's more than my job's worth - it's instant dismissal from the Patrol."
We said our goodnights then, and I drove off. The sweat was pouring off me - if they'd asked to see the papers for Matt, I'd have been done for. Perhaps those tracker chips had their uses after all.
I was tired after another fifty miles, and pulled into a rest area. I thought about having a small sleep, but I was hungry and decided to have a snack first. I told Matt to follow me, and I noticed that he was already taking on some of the aspects of a slave, following his encounter with the cops, as he did so without further argument and I did not need to use his dick to lead him by. When we got to the entrance to the restaurant, there was one of the slave detection barriers I'd fallen foul of when Matt first owned me, and a big sign that said "Owners : Slaves are not permitted beyond this point. Leave them at the door. Shackling facilities are provided."
I noticed a little group of people who I took to be slaves waiting just by the door - they were mostly barefooted, and wore the simple slave tunics and shorts of regular domestic slaves. I wondered what to do about Matt - I could hardly just leave him, as he might run off - someone might believe his story, I suppose. But then I noticed a number of chains and hooks hanging there, and another sign said "These facilities are provided for the restraint of violent or dangerous slaves. The management accepts no responsibility for their use, which is entirely at the owner's risk."
I took one of the chains and put it through the restraint ring in Matt's collar. I could see that he was itching to be able to try to lessen his exposure, and was moving around to face the wall. "Not so fast, Matt!", I whispered, "I don't want to deprive the customers of the sight of your body! Stand back against the wall, and press yourself to it!"
When Matt had moved, I looped the restraint chain several times around his neck, before finally closing the clip. He was then unable to turn around, and had to stand facing all the customers arriving and leaving. And, with this cuffed wrists, he was of course totally unable to even attempt to hide the nakedness of his newly-trimmed pubes and his freshly-shaved balls.
The management had thoughtfully provided a number of small signs, and I now took one of these and hung it around Matt's neck. "Dangerous Slave. Do Not Approach", it said, and I guessed that would keep people far enough away that Matt could not cause trouble for me.
The burger and fries I had were fantastic! Matt had always kept me short of food as he liked me to look "lean and mean", and when he fed me scraps of his own food it was always "healthy". Slave chow is, as you know, well balanced, and so I hadn't had a big load of fat and grease for so long - I almost gorged on the fries, covered in salt, as this was considered bad for slaves and I rarely got it, either.
When I got back outside a small crowd had gathered and they were watching Matt - I suppose in that part of the country nudity wasn't all that usual for slaves. Or perhaps it was, but such a magnificent specimen of manhood was not. Poor Matt looked so embarrassed- he'd gone a bright red, as he listened to the comments that the crowd were making. I distinctly heard on guy say "Well, if he's that dangerous, I'd have him nutted if I was his master." I wondered if Matt had heard that, and realised I could have it done to him!
I led him away then, towards our truck. But as we got there, I saw the two cops standing next to it. My heart went into my mouth, as I thought they must have done some checking up on the chip now inside Matt. I wanted to run, but of course that would have been a clear sign of guilt, and so I knew I needed to bluff it out.
"Good evening again, officers",
"Sir, good evening to you. We followed you from the highway, as it's now our rest period. When we're on our rest period, we're not officially on duty...."
"Ah.... So that offer I made to you?"
"Yes, sir", the sergeant said with a twinkle in his eye. "Highway Patrol officers are always willing to try to help a master who's having problems with a slave. Although it's never part of our duties, us free men need to stick together, don't they?"
"Well, thank you, sergeant! That's a most generous offer. Will both of you be using the slave's ass?"
"No, sir, just me", the sergeant said.
Their cruiser was parked in the shadows at the edge of the rest area, and Matt and I followed the two men over there. Once we arrived, the sergeant went into full cop mode.
"Right, slave - bend over the hood of the cruiser, and spread them!"
Matt bent over, but was slow to spread his legs wide. The sergeant kicked viciously at Matt's ankles with his leather boots, and snapped "I said spread them, boy!"
Matt had given a stifled scream as the cop's heavy boots hit his naked legs, but he got the message and now spread his legs. The sergeant undid his leather belt and pushed down his tight blue pants. I was surprised to see he wore nothing underneath, but then, perhaps he didn't want anything spoiling the tight line of his pants.
"Do you have lube, sir? We're not allowed to have it in the cruiser."
"No, sergeant. But feel free to jerk the slave off and use that."
The sergeant reached down between Matt's spread legs, and started to vigorously masturbate him. I could see Matt shifting uneasily as this was done - perhaps it was the first time he'd ever been forcibly masturbated by another man. Anyway, whether it was the sergeant's rough way, or whether Matt found it such a turn on, I could see all of Matt's leg muscles suddenly tense, and I knew he must have shot. The sergeant fiddled around, and I was glad he was at least giving Matt a cursory lube, as the poor guy was still dreadfully sore and pained by my rape earlier.
It was actually quite erotic to see the sergeant fuck Matt - the man's pants bunched on top of his leather boots, his shirt barely covering his naked as, as he ploughed in and out of Matt. Matt had almost struggled at first, but must have realise there was no escape, and had really quietened down as the fucking went on - he barely moved his legs at all. It gave me a particular satisfaction to know that Matt knew he was being fucked by an officer of the law, someone who would rescue him if only Matt had been able to speak!
I turned to the young trooper, and said "Greg, isn't it? Do you always get to go after the sergeant? It's always 'sloppy seconds' for you, is it?"
"Yes, sir, Greg's the name. But no.... No."
"No, what? Greg?"
"No, I don't always get to go after the sergeant. In fact I never go after him. I don't like fucking, you see."
I could see why the poor guy was embarrassed - admitting to another man that he didn't like fucking!
"Quite the reverse, actually", he went on "I'm really losing out tonight, as once the sergeant has fucked your slave, he won't touch me."
"You mean the sergeant fucks you every night?"
"Yes, sir. That's what partners in the Highway Patrol do. We usually manage to get assigned to a guy who is compatible - the sergeant is a horny fucker, as you can see, and I'm really passive - I love being partnered with the sergeant as he's so good for me."
"So are you ready to take a dick tonight, now?"
Greg was looking at me, and I rubbed my hand suggestively over the front of my shorts, so that my dick, which had sprung an erection, was clearly outlined to him.
"Are you man enough to take this, Greg?"
"YES, sir!"
It seemed wrong to disturb the sergeant and Matt, so I took Greg back to my truck, opened the tailgate, and asked him to lie there with his feet on the ground. It was the first time I'd ever stood behind a guy, reached around and under him, and undone his belt and pants, then pulled them down. He had a nice ass - he was only about 22, and was still muscular and firm.
"Now, Greg, do I use the same lube as your sergeant used with my slave?"
"Oh yes, please, sir! Wank me, sir. Put your big powerful hands around my dick and jerk me off..."
So I did. It's a strange sensation, isn't it, doing it 'the wrong way around' when you're reaching under a guy to get at his dick? But it added a certain excitement to the process, and he was very quick to cum. I massaged his hole thoroughly, and fucked him quite gently - even though I felt my sexual urge rising as I thrust into him and had him under my control, something told me I'd better restrain myself this time: they might get suspicious, knowing that the doctor had been used violently.
It wasn't all that much fun as a fuck, therefore - I did a good, workmanlike job, and I know Greg was thrilled to have such as stud as me fucking him. But I didn't get as much satisfaction as I deserved, as I wasn't really able to plough him very hard.
Both the sergeant and Greg had big grins on their faces as they stood there. The sergeant got a bottle of water from in the cruiser and splashed it on his dick to clean himself. He offered it to me, and I gestured to Greg - the trooper got my meaning and knelt in front of me, poured water over my dick, then gently massaged it clean and wiped it dry with his handkerchief. The sight of this guy on his knees cleaning my dick in some measure compensated for my earlier disappointment, especially as he had to do this humiliating thing with his sergeant watching.
"You've got the proper service tonight, sir", the sergeant told me. "Young Greg usually leaves me to clean myself up! You must have done a good job."
I just grinned, wished the two men goodnight, and snapped a command to Matt to follow me.
I noticed that he was having some difficulty in keeping up with my strides, and I asked him if he was in trouble with his ass. He nodded vigorously, and, as a caring owner, back at the truck I had him bend over and spread his legs whilst I sprayed a bit more of Bill's analgesic on him.
"Better?"
Matt nodded.
"Right then, get in so I can chain you down."
Matt looked puzzled, and started moving his body from side to side. I gradually came to understand that he was hungry, and wanted to be fed.
I reached down and pinched at the flesh on the side of his hips, then took a little fold of the skin on his belly in my fingers. "No, Matt - I think you've been getting a bit soft! Too much food, and not enough exercise since you bought me. I like the 'lean and mean' look in a man, too, you know. So for the next few days I'm going to starve you a bit, then when we've found a place, I'll get you started on some real hard exercise. I want that belly ridged with muscle, and absolutely no sign of fat at all around your middle! Now, get in..." I knew that having another man comment adversely on his body tone must be humiliating - no man likes his body criticised, does he?
Once it began to get light I got a lot of trucks blowing their horns at me - when I next stopped, I saw it was because the tarp had blown off Matt and he was lying there, stark naked on his back, fully exposed for all the truckers to see.
As I let him get free, I complimented him. "You know, Matt, for an older guy, you've still got a great body.
All those truckers who could look down at you certainly appreciated it. I wonder if any of them might be interested in using your ass, if I stopped at a truck stop?"
Matt shook his head violently, and I said, to reassure him, "Only joking! Some of those truckers are really big guys, and I think that formerly virgin ass of yours has had enough use for one day!"
I let him ride up front with me after that - the sun was hot and strong, and I didn't want Matt's still white pubes to get sunburned - as I said, I am a considerate owner!
End Of Part 18