Archive;'Odessa Ranch 2'{Ian Jacobs}( MM, sm, ws, scat, bd )[ 3 of ? ]
Odessa Ranch
Part 3, Daily Grind
Nick meshed quickly into the daily pattern. Anyone chained to a wall would fall into the regimen he was forced into, but Nick mentally meshed very quickly. His thoughts began to go dormant after only a couple of days; he would only react to the stimulus directly in front of him. Learning became a motor rather than mental matter at that point.
The First Evening
Hands could use the Honey Room whenever they needed; however, the nightly and matinee necessities meant it became filled with men and incredible noise.
The first evening, all 20 of the current hands came into the Honey Room at the same time. They were all dusty and sweaty and filled with smell, piss, the odors of herding cattle and other slaves. Each man had the same uniform, cut-off denims, boots, hat, and a riding crop either hanging from a belt or stuck into the boot. There were no benches or bins or anything of that formality in the room, so their ritual was just to strip and pile everything in the same place each night and morning. Then they would begin their toilet and their assault.
There were 6 shower heads, six sinks, six toilets, 7 neophyte slaves. So, for the time being, the hands might have to wait for one part of their routine, but they didn't have to wait in line for the whole thing. Some would shower, shave, piss, shit, whatever, and leave without fucking with the neophytes; however, they were in the minority. The only lines were at particular slaves. Some hands had their favorites and would line up for that purpose, but ordinarily it was just constant noise, motion, steam, piss, pain for the neophytes.
Nick counted the number of men he serviced after Tim and the number of lashes doled out that first night. Seven men, 50 lashes. He considered himself pretty adept if he could get through that many men without all of them slashing his still stinging chest and stomach.
Seven men. All pissed in him, some on him. He'd learned quickly how to relax his throat so he could swallow without discretion-only the first hand had to lash him for spiting any back. Four men made him suck them off. Their cocks were unremarkable and in each case the men were either too tired or just didn't care about Tim's rule that the slave hadn't earned the privilege of actually swallowing cum. Mixed with the acrid piss he had 4 decent sized loads from not-yet-showered, very sweaty cocks. He didn't realize until after he swallowed the first load how hungry he was. This was the first time in his life that he couldn't just get up and get something to eat when he was hungry. He'd dieted and therefore denied himself food before, but only will stopped him from eating whatever he wanted whenever. Now he was chained to a wall in a communal toilet, so was totally at the mercy of whoever ran this part of the compound. About half an hour after the hands left, another slave like the one who shaved Nick came into the room. He carried 7 dog bowls. He set the bowls on the floor in front of each chained neophyte. Nick tried to figure out just from sight what was in each. For lack of anything else, Nick would have to call it gruel. It looked like a runny mixture of oatmeal and cream of wheat with some possible vegetable matter. The slave (Nick was too busy wondering if he was hungry enough to eat the mess in front of him that he didn't get a look at this slave) unhooked the chains from each neophyte, starting at the far end from Nick and ending with him. The honeyboys all waited so Nick did too. "Eat faggots." The slave screamed. Only Nick was reluctant, the rest attacked their bowls. Nick stuck his tongue into the lukewarm substance. It was vaguely sweet but really had no taste. He'd already eaten shit for the first time earlier, so his reluctance didn't last long. He began to eat. He was about half way through when the slave screamed, "Time faggots." It hadn't mattered to the other 6, they had already finished. Nick didn't immediately snap to attention when the slave screamed. The slave approached Nick, and with his nasty booted foot kicked the bowl away from Nick's face. Nick then snapped back to attention and awaited the lashing he expected was coming. "As you were faggot!" So Nick slowly made as if he were eating. The slave reattached each honeyboy to his chain, again moving from Nick's far right toward him. "Why didn't you stop when I screamed time you piece of shit?" "Sir I didn't . . ." "You don't get to say 'I' fag." Nick said his sorry as 10 very harsh lashes landed across his back. He was certain these lashes would open his already tender back. He whimpered, more from fear than actual pain. The slave unhooked Nick's hands and hooked a leash to his collar. "Come with me faggot." Nick was nearly dragged because he couldn't yet keep up a hands-and-knees trot. Every time the leash went taut, the slave would slow up a little and lash Nick's flanks until he was satisfied with the dog-boy's pace. He stopped outside what looked like a tool shed. It was just a quickly thrown together bricolage of whatever boards had been available when it was constructed. Nick was the toy of the evening for the favored field slaves. The shed housed 5 slaves. All of them looked essentially alike. Hair and eye color differed, height to some degree also. But they were all muscled in the same way; obviously they did the same sort of work. Each was decorated with enough slashes of varying intensities of red. They were all just sitting around on the floor and chatting loosely when Nick entered. Nick noticed, that the shed contained no furniture and no bedding. Just naked men. "I love it when a new one comes." One said and the rest laughed in agreement. "You have to shit, fuck?" The slave holding the leash asked. "Sir . . ." Ten lashes across his back. "Dogs don't speak you stupid turd." Nick paused for a beat and then nodded his head and wagged his ass. At that, the informal circle of four separated. They went to a corner Nick couldn't see when he arrived. They had several toys and implements familiar to any pain slave. The first thing they grabbed was a water bottle with an enema hose attached. They passed it around and each pissed his fill into it. Nick's collar was fastened to the floor so the slave who had brought him could piss his fill too. After he finished, he inserted the nozzle sadistically into Nick's ass and squeezed the contents into the hole just a cruelly. Then Nick was just given an order: "Any of that leaks out and you clean it up with that worthless dog tongue of yours." Nick had heard about piss enemas before, but they all included a buttplug to help keep the contents inside. He just had the strength of his will and anus to do that. Two other slaves went to work preparing him for the evening's fun. The other three jerked lightly to keep hard. One slave put a parachute around Nick's balls; the second put alligator clamps on each nipple with a chain attached. A rope hung from the middle of the nipple chain, and another rope was attached to the parachute. "Those teeth are pesky things. Any of us feel your worthless teeth on our cocks and we'll give these ropes a yank to make sure you keep that mouth open wide enough." Five more loads of cum made up for the loss of whatever nutrition he lost from not finishing his slave chow earlier. Fortunately for him they were tired and just wanted a bedtime squirt. He knew his teeth never even brushed the violently thrusting cocks, but they pulled the ropes without pattern or mercy. He whimpered through his nose because his mouth was only free for a brief second between each slave. His jaw ached as did his neck. He had to hold his neck all the way back and his mouth EXTREMELY open for at least 20 minutes. All the while, he had to concentrate on his fatigued anus which wanted to release the piss and loosened shit with or without permission from his brain. Nick had to piss and shit and couldn't speak to ask permission even if there was the slightest possibility it would be granted. He tried not to think of the shape he would be left in if he let loose in the slave shed. The escort slave put the leash back on him and trotted him just as quickly back to the Honey Room. Nick hadn't been given permission to relieve himself so he did the best he could but he could feel some of the liquid slip out as he rushed to keep up. Nick was back chained into his position and the escort slave out the door in a matter of flurry and seconds. He could tell by the smell that his fellow honeyboys had already pissed and shit for the night so he relaxed and let the contents of his bowels and bladder just flow as muscles and gravity required. It was the closest thing to orgasm he would get for quite a while.
The first morning
Before sunrise, Nick noticed it was still dark outside, another naked slave came in with 7 bowls and went through the same set of commands as the evening before. Nick finished this time quickly. That slave removed the bowls from the night before and the ones he brought. Nick guessed they were fed "formally" only twice daily.
The main difference between morning and evening was the amount of time each man took with the honeyboys. Since the hands are given 40 minutes for their toilet necessities, most take their shower at night and just shave in the morning. The rest of the time, they spend pissing in and on, shitting in and on, cumming, screaming, whipping, and just generally tormenting the chained men. While Nick knew the number of cocks he'd sucked the night before, the morning's activities were far too rapid and distracting for him to be accurate. He and the other honeyboys basically became just piss squirting fountains covered in cum. Less than halfway through the morning routine, Nick had to piss, and continued pissing for about 15 minutes after the men left. He had processed so much of it he really didn't bother stopping the dribbling stream that came from his aching cock. Cum dripped off his face and head onto the shit and piss covered floor beneath them. The smell was awful. If his body hadn't already essentially assigned and packaged the nutrients, he would probably have added puke to the rancid odors.
A little while later, the slave who fed them their breakfast returned. He attached a hose to a spigot on the wall with the showers. He turned it on and liberally squirted each slave from head to knees. He made sure to hose down the waste surrounding each honeyboy so that it washed down the drainage areas at either end of the dugout. No soap, no scrubbing, just liberal sprays of cold water. Then the slave inspected each of the honeyboys. He took one from the middle and shaved him as Nick had been the day before. This was part of the morning's limited journey for the honeyboys.
A new boy
Nick couldn't really keep track of days. He didn't know how long it took for his body hair to grow to a length considered long enough for shaving. He did know he had been shaved two additional times before seeing daylight again. This time he was going to be part of the audience for the arrival ritual.
This boy was perfect. Nick's view had only been of bodies below the waist for the last long while, so he might just be turned on by seeing a whole body for a change. But the new boy was gorgeous. He was tanned all over, no lines. His skin smooth and young. What little hair he had was blond. Stretched lightly on the whipping post, his muscles showed the right tone and depth, he had little fat and took care of himself. Nick still had enough presence of mind to wonder why someone so attractive would be in this position. Nick was pretty, those he'd seen were not ugly by any means, but this boy was all but an Adonis. Nick knew what awaited the new one, and regretted severely that he couldn't touch his cock. He wanted to cum while the boy was whipped so badly. He had dripped precum for so long it was almost like piss now. His prostate was so swollen his balls ached almost constantly-unlike most pain, scrotal pain is not something that a man can ignore for long, it demands constant attention (Nick was hiddenly frightened that when allowed to cum finally, he'd split his cock open from the volume trying to escape all at once).
Nick considered himself lucky that he wasn't the slave chosen to be shit on. He got to watch as the perfect skin striped after he couldn't comply with the command to shit. Nick counted. The boy received 20 lashes before his ass opened up, and 5 more before Buck was satisfied. The boy bled. Not a great deal, but a couple of the cross stripes opened the tender, pampered skin. He tried not to cry, but some small shaking of his back was easily visible. Nick did get the pleasure of being toilet paper for the new arrival. Just one more exquisite torture. He'd spend the next several weeks right next to this perfect boy without being able to touch him, without being able to say so much as hello.