One Step Behind You
Part Eleven
By Randall Austin
This story is erotic fiction meant for mature readers and should only be read by adults over the age of eighteen years old. Please do not use my stories without my permission and please forward all comments to randallaustin2011@hotmail.com
Randall Austin's Archive Group: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Randall_Austin_Stories
Lang came and put one of his arms around Weston, and one around me. "Thanks Weston and Tony, you both did a great job helping with Billy's strapping! And you Billy - what can I say? You took it well. I still love you more than anything, but I sure in the hell wish you wouldn't make me have to do this stuff to you!" He playfully tweaked my nose and smiled like an older brother. Then he tousled my hair, "Okay everyone. Let's go out to Weston's place and have some real fun!"
Lang told me to get dressed in slacks, shirt, sandals, and a jacket, and then ordered me to go and take a seat in the car. I waited in the car for almost 15 minutes before everyone came out of the house. Lang came to the car and got in, and I noticed that Perry, Tony, and Eric were driving with Weston over to his place. Seeing my three friends laughing and chatting away with Weston, and drive off with him made me feel jealous.
For the drive over Lang seemed completely unaware of what I was going through having just been chastity belted. He talked about chores he wanted me to do the next day. When I asked him about me and the chastity belt he acted as if it was no big deal; "Billy, I really like the way you are acting now. Kind of like a timid little schoolboy. If that's due to your new clamp, then I see no reason to ever remove it." We pulled into Weston's home on the outskirts of town at the same time as Weston and my friends. Weston's house was medium size, but it had a very large yard. It was in a quiet semi-rural district, and there were no other houses nearby. We followed Weston's car down the long drive to the back of the house. There standing around a parked car laughing and loudly talking were three guys all dressed in Levi's and flannel shirts, and who all looked to be about 30 years of age. Two of the guys were especially dark, tall, and handsome. The other guy was a bit shorter, also quite handsome, but had a beer belly. The belly was surprising for his otherwise good looks, well built chest and arms, and relatively young age.
We all got out of our cars and were introduced. The pot-bellied guy was Andy, and the two other guys were his slaves, B.B.' and R.S.' BB was the slightly taller of the two slaves, and like RS, seemed raucous, lusty, good-natured, and playful. BB saw my friends and me and said, "Lang, I assume that kid with the collar is the Billy I've heard so much about?" I shook hands with the slaves and was somewhat heartened by their good spirits and boisterous nature.
Further back in the yard was a sturdily built shack, looking like an especially high-end garden shed. And to the side of the shack was the large corral, about 60 feet by 40 feet, fenced in with a handsome fence. Several high stools were situated about the fence. Seeing the fancy shack and fenced in corral, and all the surrounding trees and greenery, Perry said, "Wow Weston, do you ever have a neat place! It's just like a real ranch."
Tony and Eric also chimed in with their praise of Weston's place. Tony asked Weston if he had any livestock. "I have some chickens out further back, and my dog and cat are somewhere on the premises. The only other livestock I own are my three slaves. That's all I can handle for now, but I'd like to get a goat some day. I really love goats." Eric was excited, "Man, I love goats too! They are so neat! And they're smart as well!"
Andy nodded in agreement. "It's a nice day for a little sport! I sure hope your three boys are in better shape now than they were that first week we gamed them."
Weston signaled for us to follow him over to the shed, "Oh man! You won't believe the difference. I gamed them with Adam's slaves last week and they won."
When we got to the other side of the fence I was speechless at what I saw. Chained to the tree by leashes to their collars were the three brothers. When they saw us they immediately stood up at stiff attention with hands at their sides. Seeing the three boys chained to a tree like dogs made my three friends stop their noisy banter. The boys were dressed in light cotton running pants, shirts, and sandals, but over that they all wore full-length winter slave coats, which were unbuttoned because of the unseasonably warm weather Pennsylvania was having at this time of the year. All had dark hair of varying lengths and wide set eyes, which made me think that they were probably very bright. Weston introduced us. Chad, at 12 years, was the youngest, and appeared to be the calmest. Keith, 14, looked frightened. And Loren, 17, looked like he had just been crying.
When I saw the fear in their eyes all that I could think of was how ruthless a human being Weston truly must be. What kinds of things did he have to do to make three strong young males so broken? And it made my friends apprehensive as well, for a bit. At least until Weston spun the situation; "The boys were playing late last night, so they've doubtless been napping now, that's why they're all so blurry-eyed." He unchained the leash from their collars and questioned the other slavers; "It's expected to get up near to 60 degrees today, so I say we game them naked." Nods of agreement from Lang and Andy followed, so Weston told his boys to get naked and head into the corral.
The three boys quickly undressed in front of us and we all watched in silence. All three of them were indeed fitted with chastity guards similar in style and color to the one I wore. When they were undressed and scooted over to the corral, Lang said to me, "What are you waiting for Billy? Get naked right now and then get over there and join them in the corral!"
And everyone watched me undress in silence, as well. Suddenly what was embarrassment turned to total humiliation. I felt like an animal. And I also felt like my friends were looking at me as though I was, indeed, an animal. Mere livestock, just like Weston's three boys.
Andy told BB and RS to strip naked as well, then fetch the hobbles and harnesses, take them into the corral, give themselves, Weston's slaves, and me, enemas, and then fit all of us with the gaming hobbles and harnesses.
BB and RS happily stripped down. They were enjoying themselves. They were not clamped and their big cocks swung free, and they appeared proud of their endowments.
As everyone approached the corral Tony asked why the slaves needed enemas. Weston explained that with intense exertion spurred on by the gaming whips, it wasn't uncommon for slaves to shit uncontrollably. "It just ensures a far more attractive spectacle to hose the competitors out before the games."
Weston's three slaves and I huddled together in the corral, trying to keep warm. When we were alone I talked to them, trying to comfort them, "I'm new to this, I don't know what I'm supposed to do." Not one of them dared to speak to me. Their tightly clenched lips told me that Weston demanded silence of them. I suddenly found myself facing a new reality about life as a slave, and I was getting scared.
When BB and RS entered the corral they set the hobbles and harnesses down. BB pointed at us, to his brother, and laughed. He then started making exaggerated jackoff motions with his hand, making fun of the fact that the four of us were clamped. In the strange world I found myself in, I found it hard to take my eyes off the naked bodies of BB and RS, even as they crudely mocked us.
BB went to a water spigot with a hose in the corral and called us over. He called Chad first and Chad knew what to do. He bent over, and BB stuck a nozzle up his hole and slowly turned the water on. BB was gentle with Chad. He then had Chad stand up and walk over to a ditch and squat. When Chad finished his dumping, he walked back over to BB and BB cleaned up his rear area with a hose. Keith and Loren lined up for their enemas. As BB was hosing them off I noticed all of my friends and Andy had taken stools next to each other and were watching us get our enemas as they chatted excitedly. Lang and Weston arrived and gave beers to everyone.
Weston explained that it was common for herders, the overseer who wielded the whips for the slaves in competition, when they gamed among themselves to get naked for the games, wearing nothing but jackboots and the whip they held in their hands. He explained that when he was alone with and training his three boys he frequently was naked except for boots and his whip. "It gives the best freedom of motion for good arm and leg movement and quick and precise whip snaps."
BB called me over. As I bent over I saw my three friends chatting and smiling, but the whole time they kept their eyes on me as I got my enema, squatted and took a dump, and got hosed off, like an animal being readied for the games. As I was getting flushed out, with all eyes on me, I heard Andy ask Lang if I had ever been bitched'. Lang said that I hadn't, and Weston said he wouldn't mind "doing the honors." Perry asked what being bitched' meant. Everyone, including Tony and Eric, laughed, without answering him.
After BB and RS gave themselves enemas, BB got to work hobbling and harnessing all of us. The hobbles were an 11 inch, somewhat flexible, plastic knee spreader bar which cuffed to our legs right above the ankles. It kept our legs spread apart. It made all of us slaves look different from the free boys, and we could only move awkwardly. The harness was a set of leather straps which went about our chest and had D rings in the back; it also had two free hanging straps in the front which one grabbed onto when one was pulling a load. When we were all hobbled and harnessed Andy shouted at us to form a line according to our height, with Chad the shortest in front, me fourth from the front, and BB the tallest at the rear. When we all started walking to find out places I heard Tony, Perry, and Lang, chuckling.
Tony asked, "Why the funny hobbles?" Weston answered that since his was a small corral, the hobbles made up for our exertions in the relatively small space.
Weston called out to us, "Okay, I want you boys to start trotting about the perimeter of the corral for a warm-up. Keep yourselves moving at a fair clip, and keep a distance of 4 feet from the slave in front of you. Keep your elbows at shoulder level and punch the air alternately with each fist with every step you take. If the trotting formation looks sloppy, I'll be in there with my whip to clean up your act!"
We started out slowly and soon got up to a trotting pace. Our trot excited the spectators, for the moment we started moving in formation they engaged in excited comments and laughter. It was awkward running with our legs spread, punching the air with each step. And with our harnesses we looked like beasts of burden. We looked ridiculous, and I felt even more ridiculous.
Lang shouted out, "Billy, I know you're new to this, but get your air punch in sync with the slave in front of you!" Everyone watched me correct my punch, as I did my leg-spread-wide trotting. We circled the corral for the entire length of time it took my friends and the slavers to finish their first bottle of beer. At least it warmed us up. As Weston handed out seconds on the beers he shouted at us to stop and rest. He then addressed his three boys, "You are free to talk now. But keep it all game related."
The three boys formed off slightly by themselves and talked to each other in almost whispers. BB told me I was free to get a drink of water at the spigot any time I wanted. I thanked him and went to the spigot. Weston's three boys were finishing taking a drink, and I felt sorry for them. Wondering if they would talk to me now, I asked them how they were doing. All three of them said they were doing okay. Chad and Keith appeared to be, if not enjoying, occupying themselves in a somewhat positive way by the games about to take place. When I indicated their oldest brother looking sullen, Keith said, "Loren is really missing his girlfriend."
In the middle of the corral were large rectangular concrete slabs in four different sizes, each with chains attached. We were instructed by Weston to go and stand by the second smallest slabs, about 3 feet long, and two feet high and deep. All three slavers, each now wearing gaming boots and carrying the long and precise gaming whips, entered the corral as we took our places. All three slavers quickly secured the chains from each of our concrete slabs to our harnesses. Lang instructed me how to use the two front puller straps on my harness to pull the weight.
Andy gave the rules for the first round; "Four minutes. This is a warm-up race between you slaves. See who can pull the weight the greatest distance in four minutes. When I say `go' you pull with all your might. Because we have no favorites in this game, we all will be prodding each of you as if you were our man. We have no favorites."
Andy shouted "Go" and we all started tugging. The slab was almost immovable. With our opening strains we were all able to move it only about a quarter inch at best. I heard and saw Weston snap Loren on the shoulder. He involuntarily heaved and in a spurt pulled the slab almost a foot. Andy snapped RS on the ass and in spurt of energy pulled his slab almost 2 feet.
Lang snapped little Chad, he yelped, and his adrenaline-forced pull moved his slab a foot and a half. Weston snapped me on the shoulder, I screamed, and found myself amazed that I had in an instant pulled my slab two feet. Clearly the whip works. I strained all the harder to avoid the whip, but Lang came behind me and snapped my ass with his whip. I screamed and pulled my slab another foot. My friends hooted and hollered and called out my name, and Tony said, "You're winning Billy!"
At one point BB stumbled and fell, and when he was down Weston snapped his back fiercely about three times with his whip. BB screamed and quickly got back up, sporting a granite hard erection.
The three slavers went down the line prodding us on, snapping each and every one of us on our shoulders, backs, asses, legs, and arms.
Finally Tony shouted out, "Time!" They had made Tony the timekeeper. Keith won the round, and Weston went up to him, put his head in his hands, smiled, and said, "Keith, am I ever proud of you. There's going to be a reward for you tonight on your bed."
We were unchained and allowed to rest and water ourselves, while the slavers went and chatted with my friends. My friends appeared to really have enjoyed the first round. Tony asked Weston why he beat BB when he was down. Weston explained, "Oh, let me explain that. If you're new to this it could look like some form of cruelty, but it's not at all. Whipping a slave when he's down in a game is sort of a punctuation mark, like saying, `Good try!' In no way was I beating BB because I was mad at him or thought he wasn't giving me his all. Beating slaves when they're down is all just a part of the gaming culture, and it's something I have always enjoyed doing."
Lang pointed out that there were six slaves, and six free men, so he wondered if my friends would like to participate. They were all laughing and having such a friendly time with the slavers that I was not surprised that they all said they would like to try it. Apparently they were not aware that the snap of the whip on a slave's body is truly mightily painful. Weston went and got each of my friends a gaming whip.
When all the free men entered the corral carrying their whips I looked at my friends, but they would not make eye contact with me.
Andy asked my friends if any of them had ever used the whips on slaves before. When they answered that they had never held a whip before Andy said, "I don't care what you do with it, but just make sure you don't hit my slaves on their genitals. That is not permitted." My friends nodded. Tony, Eric, and Perry all started taking practice swats on the ground. Tony playfully whipped Perry on his trousered leg and Perry screamed out loud, "Fuck goddammit man, that hurt!" Tony apologized, but all Perry could say was, "Holy fuckin shit man, am I ever fuckin sore!"
The slavers were amused. Weston called out, "Okay overseers, choose your slave. Because this is my corral I get first pick. I take Billy."
Eric chose little Chad, Tony took BB, and Perry took Loren. Lang took RS, and Andy ended up with Keith. Tony wanted to know if he could be handicapped since he was keeping time. Everyone laughed at his request. Each overseer attached the chains of the largest slabs to their slave's harness.
Weston filled in my friends on a few basic rules of gaming. "This is a 15 minute round. The best strategy early on is to encourage the slave to do his best with as few whip strokes and as mild strokes as possible. The reason is that once Tony calls out the `three minutes left' signal, beatings tend to get pretty fast, fierce, raw, vicious, and competitive. Remember especially in those last minutes to find fresh flesh. If there is any blood drawn on any part of the slave's body from the whip stings, you are disqualified."
"Also, we usually game naked for this round. It's too cold to get naked today, but I say we pull out our dicks. It gets the testosterone flowing, and makes for a hotter game. You boys want to join us and do this the way men do it?" Weston and Andy unzipped and pulled out their dicks. Perry looked at Tony, shrugged, and said, "Why not? This is cool!" As Lang took his dick out he said, "Get the balls out, too!"
Tony, Perry, and Eric, smiling, unzipped and pulled out their dicks and balls. Perry gave his dick a waggle, and let out a lascivious, "Yeeeaaaaahhh!" All the slavers were laughing and waggling and shaking their dicks as they got behind us slaves.
When the slavers were all lined up behind us, Weston said, "Fuck man, do I ever love this! Let's get this show on the road. Are we all ready?"
Tony gave the go and we slaves all started pulling. The slavers gave verbal warnings, and my friends followed their lead. Tony called out to BB, "Wiggle that ass some more, boy. I wanna see that slab move in the next 30 seconds or I'm going to give it a nice big kiss!"
Weston complimented Tony and warned me as well, "Billy, I'm giving you 15 seconds to make some headway here!" I struggled and was able to pull it about an inch. "Good. Now keep that up."
It was only after the first two minutes when I heard the first whip snap. Eric sliced Chad's back. Chad screamed and pulled his slab a bit. Perry followed suit on Loren and got similar results.
The whipping increased, as did our exertions and sweating. Eric was whipping Chad almost once every 20 seconds, and Weston cautioned Eric. Chad was crying through the exertions.
When Weston's whip hit my back I screamed and jumped, pulling my slab a good foot. As miserable as I was I was hard as granite, but it was all hidden in my chastity belt. Suddenly Weston whipped me hard on the shoulder, I screamed, jumped, and fell on my side. I saw Weston's dick hard and tight and poking straight up. And all the overseers in back of us slaves were hard as rocks as well. Eric, my Eric, was huge, and was beating little Chad with a slight smile on his face. Weston looked at me looking at the overseers, and came up to me and fiercely whipped my back four times. I screamed and covered myself with my arms. He screamed back at me, "Get up shit boy! Pull your goddamn load!" I got up, and he snapped my ass and I jumped and pulled.
Weston warned Eric to let up on the ferocity of his whip strokes. Eric did for a few moments. When he started up with swatting again, one fierce slice across little Chad's back caused a few droplets of blood to appear. Weston noticed and told Eric that he was disqualified, that he wouldn't be able to claim victory in this match, but that if he wanted to stay in the match just for sport he could. Eric decided to stay in the match. Weston told Eric to not whip Chad any more on the back, but to limit it to his ass and legs.
When Tony called out, "Three minutes left", the beatings began in earnest. Lang shouted at RS as he beat him, once every 15 seconds, "Let's move it, dumbass! Let's move it!"
Weston stung my legs with rapid-fire strokes and I briefly took the lead. "Hey shitboy, if we don't win this pull I'm going to make you suffer! I'm going to stick something very big up that asshole of yours!"
My mind was a blur in the noise of the shouting, obscenities, whip cracks, and my stinging flesh, when Tony shouted "Time!" We were told to stop in our positions. Shouts indicated that Lang and RS had won the round.
I didn't realize what was happening. Weston came up behind me and removed the slab chains from my harness. He had me kneel down with my head on the ground, and my ass sticking up high. He spat into his hand, lubed up his penis, and was trying to shove it up my hole before I realized what was going on. I started crying as he tried to shove it in. His slaps to my buttocks made me cry out loud.
Tony was standing jacking off as BB knelt in back of him licking out his asshole with his slave tongue. Perry had a kneeling Loren giving him a blowjob. Andy was fucking a bawling Keith. Lang was reclining on the ground jacking as RS slurped out his armpits. And Eric was jacking off furiously to the screams of little Chad, whose tits he pinched and squeezed in order to bring out the boy's cries of pain that fed his lust.
Weston banged me furiously, "Oh yeah Billy! What a hot fuck you are!" He shouted out loud moans of pleasure as he came. When he pulled out I curled up on the ground. As I lay there I realized everyone else, slaves and overseers, were all sprawled out, exhausted, on the ground as well.
Except Eric, who ran out of the corral as he zipped up his trousers. I sat up. Everyone else remained sprawled out. Some were quietly chatting. I got up, walked out of the corral, and ran after Eric. I called out to him and told him to stop. He did. When I reached him I went and stood in front of him, put my hands on his shoulders, and was about to ask, "What in the hell were you doing?" But instead I took my right hand and slapped him in the face as hard as I could. He didn't move. I slapped him again. He didn't move. I walked over to a picnic table and sat down, put my arms on the table, my head in my arms, and wept.