Steve Grows Up
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownsetoticstries
Part 7
Well, even though it was difficult, I did "save" myself for the rest of the week, lying there on my straw bed trying desperately to sleep and not to think about the pain in my dick. So when dad and I appeared in front of the Colonel's male guests that Saturday night, I was really ready for sex! But I was hateful - dad just refused to talk about it all week, and even as we were walking towards the big house on Saturday night he was silent. I pleaded with him to at least talk about what we were going to do so we didn't look like complete idiots, and then, finally, after we'd been cleaned by the niggas and were on our way towards the formal dining room, our skins shining with a light coating of slave oil they'd given us to make us look absolutely in tiptop condition, I just snapped and told dad that if he didn't make a move, I was going to fuck him!
Two slaves threw the doors of the big formal dining room open and dad and I went in and bowed to the Colonel who was sitting at the head of the table - a huge table covered with a snowy white linen table cloth, but now strewn with empty bottles, dishes of fruit and nuts, and all the accompanying debris as the nut shells and pieces of fruit skin were strewn around. The worse thing, though, was the thick fug of cigar smoke in the air - all the five men were smoking, and it hovered in a layer stretching down from the ceiling. I almost choked, I can tell you.
The men were all looking expectantly at us, and in a grand gesture I swept a lot of the empty bottles and debris off the table onto the floor, then leapt up on to it, half dragging dad up with me. All the men started to cheer, as I don't think they expected us to do whatever we were going to do right in front of them like that and I could see the Colonel looking really pleased. I expected dad to take the lead then, but he just stood there, so I kissed him, then pushed him down onto his back, and hefted his legs up onto my shoulders.
It wasn't the most expert fuck I've ever given, I can tell you. But I did it with a hell of a lot of enthusiasm, and most of the watching men were so drunk that they probably didn't notice how I missed a few tricks along the way. I do remember the cheering after I'd thrown my head back and roared in triumph as my cum pumped up into dad, though.
The Colonel was cheering and clapping too, and I was glad I'd done well for him, but then he banged a spoon against the side of his crystal glass for silence, and when the rowdiness had subsided, he said "You slave, off - get out. And gentlemen, let's compose ourselves - the ladies will be well in to their coffee by now, and we should go and join them."
On the way home I asked dad if he was OK, and he said yes. And then he put his arms around me and hugged me, and I thought he was going to cry! I was worried at first as I thought I might have hurt him in some way, but he pressed his face close to mine and whispered "Thanks, Steve... I hated it when I had to stand there and fuck the niggas for those men's amusement. That wasn't half as bad. But, son, remember - you must say nothing to your mom or your brothers and sisters about this."
I pushed away a little and he went on "....don't get me wrong, son.... There's nothing wrong in what we did.... After all, the Colonel ordered it. And it was only sex. But we don't want to worry your brothers and sisters, as you know. And your mom, well.... " He stopped for a few moments, in obvious embarrassment, before continuing "...well, I wouldn't like her to think that you fucked me, son. I mean, I am your dad, I'm bigger than you are, older, stronger..."
"But dad, you told me it didn't matter - if you liked taking dick, and I liked giving it, that was fine, you said. You said neither was better or worse than the other. So what is there to be embarrassed about? We were just doing what two men wanted to do...."
"You're right of course, Steve. But some people just don't see it that way. And your mom.... Well, she's used to taking my dick, isn't she? So she might think it's a bit odd that I don't use my dick on you, Steve.
So can we just not talk about it, OK?"
I nodded, and dad put his arm around my shoulders and we walked home. I wanted to go straight to my bed, but dad said that mom had probably got something for us, so I went with him around to the house. Mom was half dozing by the kitchen fire as we went it, but at once got up and threw her arms around dad. "You are OK, aren't you... You didn't hurt Steve... " she looked t me, and went on "Dad didn't hurt you, did he Steve? Sometimes he forgets himself and doesn't know his own strength....."
I saw dad starting to blush a bit, and look sheepish, so I cut in "No, mom, it was OK, honestly."
Dad looked so relieved, and mom then fussed around making us a hot drink from the milk stuff, and giving us cold fried slices of the mush to munch on. Dad and I sat next to each other, and mom had her hand on dad's shoulder, almost proprietorially. Then she sniffed, and said "Oh, that's disgusting... Your hair.... Cigar smoke! You'd better have a bath before you come to bed..."
Dad started to say it was OK, but mom went on "You too, Steve! You can't go back to the forge smelling like an ashtray. There won't be enough hot water for two baths, but you can jump in quickly, and then your dad can use the same water...."
Dad started to protest, but mom brushed it all aside and told us to get upstairs at once, and like a couple of school kids, we did. Dad watched me as I undressed and got into the bath, and even knelt down and soaped my back as I sat there, as mom used to do when I was very small! I stood up and dad handed me the towel, then he said "Let the water out, Steve."
"I thought you were going to use the same water...."
"Don't be disgusting... You've been in it..."
"Dad, I've just fucked you - and now you're worrying about using the same bath water? And we were clean before we started, except for the cigar smoke anyway. Come on - what will mom say if you go and get into bed with her and you're still stinking of cigars? And suppose she reaches for your dick and balls, dad, and then finds cum leaking out of your ass?"
Sometimes dad can be really stupid, and has to have things like that pointed out to him! So he stripped off and lowered himself into the water, and I thought it would be nice if I washed his back, too. Then, as he lay back in the bath and with my hands still all soapy, I just couldn't resist starting to stroke his dick which, as you might expect, went hard almost instantly.
Well, it felt really great - dad's lovely dick and my soapy hands, and I started to stroke him vigorously. "Steve", he hissed. "No...."
"Dad, you can't go in to mom with a hard on like that!" I tried to make it sound like a joke. "She'll know you haven't fucked an hour ago - you're getting older, remember, and you can't do it every half hour, as a young stud like me can. So you'd better shoot now, dad..... Then mom won't suspect anything...." I carried on stroking him, and saw dad smiling. He liked it really, but like a lot of men, thought he ought to just make a token protest.
We went downstairs with just towels around our waists, and in the kitchen mom looked at us and there was the usual loving tone in her voice "My, my two handsome men! You really are filling out, Steve working with your father is doing you more good than all that training you did for the football team. Now, here...."
She handed me fresh, crisply ironed boxer shorts and a fresh pair of jeans, and stood there. "Come on, Steve", she said. "Get dressed, then you can go to the forge, and your father and I can get to bed..."
"Mom.... I can't get dressed with you watching..."
"Steven, don't be silly! You're my son. I bore you. I changed you all the time you were a baby.... And did much worse than just see you naked. Now don't be so silly - anyone would think you'd got something to be ashamed of."
Dad grabbed at my towel and pulled it away, leaving me standing there in front of both of them. "Your mom's right, Steve!". There was a laugh in his voice as he said it. "You have nothing to be ashamed of - you're a real chip off the old block...."
I think dad was trying to get his own back by making me embarrassed in this way, to help make up for what we'd done earlier. Well, two could play at that game! I snatched dad's towel away, too, so we were both naked for the second time that night, but this time with a much smaller audience. "Yes, dad.... You're right!", I told him, standing right next to him and kind of flexing my muscles in a parody of a bodybuilder.
"You men! You're just like two kids, always fooling around and joking like that." Mom was almost laughing too, but when she said "Now, Steve, get dressed and get off to the forge, as it's church tomorrow and I don't want you looking all bleary eyed as Reverend Jackson tells us all about the good book. And you...", she went on, "Get up those stairs and into bed.... It's not decent a man standing around naked like that!".
Dad turned to go, and as he went, mom gave him a playful slap on the bare butt. I pulled on my clothes, wondering whether she was serious about it not being "decent" for a man to stand around naked. Did she really not know what the Colonel made dad and me do?
As usual the following morning the Reverend Jackson's sermon was stupefyingly dull. The Colonel insisted that all his "domestic" slaves attended the church in the village, and I now realised why mom and dad had always herded us kids into the pew behind the "rich folk" as she called them, only just in front of the niggas. After we'd sung several trite hymns and knelt in prayer, asking God to smile down on the Colonel and others "righteously in authority over us", his sermon was as usual about the need to obey, how Jesus served, and how the fires of hell were waiting for those of us who didn't obey authority. Honestly, who could believe any of that crap? But I could see why they did it, as some of the niggas were calling out "Praise the lord", and "Hallelujah" and all the other superstitious rubbish as he went on - presumably it made them easier to control if they thought the ju-ju in the sky would punish them.
All of us were in our "best" - well, the whole family was in clean jeans and Ts for the men and boys, and the girls, like mom, had simple one-piece frocks in a plain colour. But now I was aware of the slavery, I saw things I'd never noticed before - Pastor Jackson didn't shake hands with us as he did with all the white folk from the front pews: I'd always put this down to us being poor, but now I saw that he evidently didn't consider that his god created all men equal and that he'd no more shake hands with dad than he would with any of the niggas. I felt like challenging him and striding over with my hand outstretched, but I think dad sensed my mood and put his arm around my shoulder, almost gripping my neck with his hand as if to remind me to be on my best behaviour.
Lunch was always special on Sunday, though - mom didn't give us any breakfast so she could use the mush for a special spread at lunch time. We had bowls of her delicious home-grown vegetable stew with lovely savoury dumplings made from the mush stuff floating on top of it. Then afterwards a dessert made from the milk stuff and mush stuff, sweetened with some of the tiny sugar ration she was allowed. I was proud of the way she heaped the bowls of dad and me and served us first, as she said that as working men we needed feeding properly. Cliff was a real pain, though, and was really childish, trying to skewer one of my dumplings out of my bowl, saying that he was growing too.
I suppose I could have gone back to the forge and caught up on my sleep in the afternoon, but the sun was shining and so I took myself off to the lake, intending to lie there an just enjoy the outdoors. I found my favourite place and decided to slip my jeans off to get some sun on my legs, and then, as the place was deserted as usual, followed them by the boxers. I stretched out, really flexing my muscles in sheer enjoyment, and then lay there feeling the sun warm on my body. I must have dozed off, because when Rob said "Steve....?", I sat bolt upright in surprise. I didn't even think to cover myself - well, I suppose I might have been getting used to being naked as a slave, and, anyway, Rob and I always swam here naked.
I got to my feet, putting out my hand. "Rob, buddy.... Back from your travels.....?" He looked well, standing there. In those few weeks he'd grown, and looked tanned and healthy. But he didn't put out his hand, and looked a bit embarrassed.
"Steve.... Remember what I said before I left? I can't shake hands with you, Steve - folk might get the wrong impression... You know.... 'You can't be friends with a slave...'."
"So we're not buddies any more, Rob?"
"Steve, yes.... No..... Well, we can hang out together still, when you've got time, of course. But it's difficult, Steve - what would the other guys in school think if they saw me always with you? They'd start to call me slave-lover and stuff like that...."
He saw me looking really dejected, as Rob and I go back a long way, and went on "...but at times like this, of course, when there's no one else around, it can be just like the old times. But, Steve, you'd better stop calling me 'Rob' - perhaps it would be best if you always called me 'sir', as I'm a free man and you're a slave, so that if I meet you with your owner in the street or if I'm at the forge on business or whatever, there's less chance of you making an inadvertent mistake."
"So... SIR..... As we're both together and it's private, sir, shall we be like we used to? Can I jerk you of, SIR?" I put the heavy emphasis on the word sir so that Rob would know how pissed off I was at him.
Rob looked a bit embarrassed and looked kind of shifty. "Steve, that was the sort of thing we did when we were kids at school.... Now I'm a bit beyond that, I think...."
"You are still a kid at school, SIR", I countered, in the hope of making him feel bad that I had had to leave to work in the forge, whereas he was able to continue his education.
"No, Steve, I don't think so. As I said, I've moved on..."
"Ah.... Those foreign women! I thought you said it would be hard to get away from your folks...."
I wondered why Rob looked away and tried to avoid my eyes ,but he muttered "Yes, something like that.... " Then he changed abruptly, as if he wanted to get away from that topic and said "But my swimming's come on, Steve.... Race you across the lake?"
As he said this he started to pull off his clothes, and I could at once see that in those couple of months something had happened to him - he'd always been reasonably fit but now he was positively glowing with health, and he looked as if he'd been putting in hours a day at a gym! He hesitated before he pushed his boxers down, though, and then, when he saw me looking, got almost defiant and casually tossed them to one side, giving his dick a little shake to release it from clinging to his balls. I wondered if the exercises he must have been doing extended to his dick as well!
Normally I won when we raced across the lake, and I was expecting to this time, too - after all, my body was really tough and strong from all the work I'd been doing. But perhaps Rob had been taking swimming lessons or something, as he just beat me this time. We lay together on the grass, side by side under the warm sun, the water drying on our bodies and our lungs gasping as we sucked in air. Anyone looking at us would have seen those same two young men as had been there for the past few years - except that now, of course, they'd see my 'skinned dick, and might begin to wonder why.
Rob didn't seem to want to talk about the places he'd been to, but I was really curious about all those things I'd read about only in books. Rob seemed to dismiss them all with a shrug - Rome was too crowded, the French in Paris too rude, London was too dirty and the public transport system was erratic.... And so on.
And you couldn't get a decent burger anywhere, and none of them really knew how to make great 'shakes. As I lay there listening to him I began to wonder why he'd travelled at all - he might as well have stayed at home. And he still wouldn't talk about all those foreign women he must have fucked - or perhaps it was some American chick, who'd been travelling with them? He just wouldn't say, and whenever I tried to talk about it, he just changed the subject.
After a time Rob seemed to be bored as we had very little in common to talk about any longer - I didn't know any of the people on his trip, and had lost interest in the other kids at school who we used to talk about a lot; and Rob wasn't interested in hearing about Dob and Sam and the other great guys I'd met as a slave, as when I'd started to talk to him about them he'd just said "Oh, slaves.... Well, I expect some of them may be OK", and that was that. So we didn't spend all that much time together and it was just as well, as when I got back home dad told me that Mr. Stryker had called and that I was to be at the big house, all cleaned up and ready by seven. "And you, dad...?" I asked, wondering what we might be told to do together this time, but dad told me that Mr. Stryker had said that only I was to go.
Well, that was the night that the Colonel decided he wanted to see me perform with niggas! So by the time I'd got back home after eleven, I was exhausted: I'd had to fuck three of them as the Colonel sat there and chortled about the contrast between my white skin and theirs, and, as you might expect, he'd ordered the biggest, longest, thickest dick from all the "domestic" niggas to fuck me! I'd screamed as the guy had thrust it into me - now, whether this was actually the pain, or whether it was just made worse by the anticipation, I don't know: I'd been made to kneel there in front of him before he began and kiss and lick at this monstrous dick I'd almost started to tremble at the thought that it was soon to be splitting my ass open. And then the Colonel ordered me to suck it, so that I could understand its size better, I'd barely been able to get my lip around it. Still, it just shows you - if I something that size could fit in my ass, I ought to stop worrying about my own large dick ever really damaging another guy. In the shower afterwards the nigga had said that only once had he ever caused serious damage and that was to a really skinny young kid, and that in his experience it didn't matter all that much. "Look, Steve", he'd said, as we stood there soaping each other and kind of enjoying just being two guys together without anyone watching, "If you think about it, some niggas have fists and whole forearms rammed up them as a show! So it just shows what an ass can take - a lot of guys are just terrified when they see me at first, and they may be sore afterwards... But it's certainly an experience, isn't it?"
"You can say that again...", I told him. "But that bastard the Colonel knows I don't like taking dick...."
"...so that's why he had me fuck you, I guess", the nigga said, laughing. "What better entertainment than a big nigga like me fucking a well-hung white guy like you, especially when he knows you don't like taking dick!".
"It's not right, is it? You and me being made to 'perform' for another guy's amusement....?"
The nigga stopped soaping me, rolled his eyes as if in terror, and said "Ssshh.... Steve, if Mr. Stryker hears you talking like that he'll have you whipped. That's called sedition, man! Talking against the proper role of owner and slave... You're just supposed to accept it, and certainly never to question it. And they can take your balls for seditious behaviour, too...."
There was a surprise for me the next day, too - a big surprise, and one I'd half been expecting, and actually almost dreading. Look, I know I'd fucked girls at school, but after I'd discovered the joy of proper sex, with men, I wasn't particularly interested in having a woman. And I particularly didn't like the idea of having the Colonel choose a "mate" for me, who I'd be expected to live with for the rest of my life. But then, when Mr. Stryker drew up in his trap with my mate, I really hated it (although poor Dob was glad to get her out of the trap, I bet, as pulling both of them must have been awful).
Kate, as she was called, was years older than me - I was still sixteen, remember, and she was thirty! And she wasn't the kind of woman I liked, either - big breasted, wide hips, a flat, unattractive face.... Mr. Stryker must have seen the look of horror I gave, as he said "The Colonel has chosen her for you, Steve.
She's a proven breeder - been dropping slaves for years on one of the farms - so he's expecting great things when she's put with a stud like you. He'll want a baby a year from you two, so there's no time to waste - you'd better get down to it tonight, and every night from now on."
I knew it was useless to protest. If the Colonel had decided to mate me with this hag, what could I do? Mom saved the day, though - she fussed around, welcoming "Steve's bride" to our home, and introducing her to dad and all my brothers and sisters. And then she said "Now, Steven, take Kate upstairs to your bedroom and show her around. Dinner's almost ready, so be quick..."
"Mom, where...?"
"You and Kate had better have the room you used to share with Cliff. Cliff can start to sleep in your old place, in the forge."
"But mom, that's my place, my private space..."
"Steven...", mom's tone was warning now, telling me not to argue. "Stop being silly. Now you're mated, you need a nice big bed so you can be together. And you don't need a 'private' space - your father and me have never needed a 'private' space of our own in all the years we've been together... And I always thought we brought you up to do the right thing, Steven, to behave properly...."
Well, what was I supposed to do? I led my "bride" up the stairs and into my old room, and pointed at the bed. To my amazement Kate grabbed my dick and balls through my jeans, and said perfectly normally, as if it was the most usual thing in the world "I think you and me are going to get on well together, Steve! You seem well hung, and it will be nice to have a tight young body like yours, with a good big dick, to please me every night."
She must have seen me almost coil with revulsion, but just shrugged and was almost laughing as she told me that "she'd show me a good time later on". Well, dinner was hard going as all my brothers and sisters kept pestering her with questions, and Cliff kept smirking and sniggering at me and calling me "stud". He went off to the forge though as soon as he'd finished eating, as I expected he wanted to get in touch with some of his friends and have them over for sex.
No such luck for me, though. I was so embarrassed in the tiny bedroom as she stripped off and got into bed.
I just stood there looking, and wondering how on earth I'd cope with those huge breasts and her horrible body. I just knew I couldn't, and when she kept telling me I had to get into bed, I took my jeans off and slipped in beside her in my T and boxer shorts. The fact that she laughed at me, calling me a "nice little modest kid" only made matters worse, and there was no way I was going to fuck her, and so I lay there on my side, right on the edge of the bed, turned away from her and just refused to move. And when her hand came creeping over me, feeling for my dick, I slapped it away - I think she realised I was angry, and even though I might be a "kid", I was a strong one at that from my work, so she gave up.
Dad never said anything to me about Kate at work the next day, or the day after that, or the day after that. But that afternoon one of the runners raced into the forge and spoke to dad. I was on the other side of the hearth, beating out a bar for use in repairing one of the slave pens, and I saw dad shake his head, and the runner raced off. Just as we were about to finish work the runner came back, and this time he had a message for me: as he stood there panting, his thin chest heaving for breath, he gasped out that I was to report to the big house "immediately" as the Colonel wanted to see me.
I was in good spirits as I made my way there, as I thought the Colonel had decided that I didn't need to "mate" and wanted me to have sex with some of the niggas instead, so it was surprising that I didn't get bathed and cleaned out, but instead was led, still clothed as usual, to wait outside the Colonel's door. And when I finally went in, both the Colonel and Mr. Stryker were there, the latter tapping his slave prod menacingly up and down in his hands, as if he might be expecting trouble from me.
The Colonel didn't say a word, but Mr. Stryker rapped "Drop your jeans and boxers!" And when I looked surprised, roared "You're in enough trouble already, boy! Now, do it." I fumbled with my belt and did as I was told, feeling a bit foolish as my clothes pooled above my heavy work boots, and somehow I felt really humiliated to be standing there like that, with my T just coming down to rest on my butt at the back. Mr. Stryker grabbed the back of my neck and almost forced me a couple of paces across the room and down onto the pad on top of the "horse." I heard the Colonel say "Go ahead, Stryker", and the next moment my body exploded into pain as the punishment cane slashed down across my butt, wielded expertly by Mr. Stryker. I screamed with the sheer unexpectedness of it, and then, as the initial sharp cutting sensation subsided a little, I felt the horrible dull, persistent hurt flooding through my muscles. It came down again, and again. And then, as I lay there sobbing - yes, I couldn't help it, it hurt so much, the Colonel commanded me to get up and stand in front of him.
It was awful. I had to shuffle across the room with my jeans around my ankles, and then stand there as he snapped "Head down, and arms behind you, Steve - didn't your father teach you how to stand in my presence?" I did as he'd said, knowing my dick was half erect from the sexual excitement of having been caned, and the Colonel went on "You were given a mate, Steve. You knew that I wanted new slaves, and yet you have not been fucking her! You have received one stroke of the punishment cane for each night that you failed in your duty as a slave, and from now on, each night you continue to disobey will merit two strokes.
If you continue to disobey after that, four strokes, and so on. I will not tolerate disobedience, especially from rare, expensive slaves like you whiteys. Now, get out of here, get back to the forge, and do your duty."
As I walked back to the forge, my ass in absolute agony from the caning, I thought back and realised that the runner who came to see dad must have asked him if I'd been fucking Kate! How else would the Colonel have known? So when I burst into the kitchen I almost screamed at dad "How could you? You told him...."
"Steve, what do you expect? If the Colonel asks me a question, I have to give a truthful answer, don't I? If I didn't, and he found out... Then when Kate still did not get pregnant.... He might choose to punish your mother or me or one of the other kids, Steve. And I can't have that, can I? It's you who are disobeying the Colonel, and therefore it's you who deserves to be punished."
"But dad, it's wrong... I shouldn't be made to sleep with someone I don't like, with someone I don't love...."
"Steve, stop this, will you? How many more times do we have to go through all of this? You're a slave, right? And a slave has to obey his owner. And if he doesn't, he deserves to be punished. And all that 'love' stuff is for free men, Steve - if your owner tells you to mate, mate you will. After all, if the Colonel chose to put you out to stud, you surely wouldn't refuse and just stand there with your dick erect and refuse to cover the niggas, would you?"
Well, I'm not sure that the answer wouldn't be "yes" to that. But I seemed to be trapped, and as I lay next to Kate that night , feeling the hurt in my butt, I wondered what the fuck I was supposed to do. I knew mom and dad were listening through the thin wall, and I knew dad would continue to answer truthfully, and I knew that the Colonel wouldn't have the slightest hesitation in having Mr. Stryker punish me - after all, now he'd said he would, he'd have to do it, wouldn't he? An owner who threatened a slave with punishment and then who failed to carry it out would soon have anarchy amongst his slaves, after all. And it wasn't as if I hadn't fucked women before - Id enjoyed those girls in my class, and I knew what to do.
I couldn't bear the thought of her soft flabby skin all against me, though, so I kept my T and boxers on as I rolled her onto her back and positioned myself between her thighs. It wasn't like fucking a guy - as I knelt there, looking down at her body, it didn't make me go hard, didn't thrill me - in fact, I had to start jerking away at my dick to get it started, and then I lowered myself onto her and got the whole thing over as quickly as I could. The bed squeaked and rattled, of course, and to make it worse Kate was one of those women who was noisy - as I fucked away, her voice was wailing out "Oh yes! Fuck me, Steve. Fuck me hard. Oh yes...".
Well you know how it is - if you're not really in the mood for fucking it can just take for ever, whereas if you're really enjoying I you shoot almost immediately.
So I had to work away for what seemed like hours, missing the tightness of a guy's ass, missing the sight and touch of proper hard muscles against mine. But finally I did shoot, and I could stop. I tucked my dick away into my boxers, and took up my normal position lying as close to the edge of the bed as I could, with my back to her. From the next room through the wall I heard dad say something to mom so I knew they'd heard me fucking, and somehow that made it worse.
The next morning when I went down, dad slapped me on the back as if to say "well done", and mom was smiling, too. Then when Cliff came in from the forge to eat with us, I saw the big grin on his face and I knew he must have been doing the same thing as me - except that he'd been doing it with some young girl that he'd selected. I just sat there and ate my way through my mush, and then dad and me went to the forge to start work.
I don't know what to tell you about the next months, really. Dad and me, or sometimes just me, were called up to the big house to "perform" to entertain the Colonel's guests. I carried on working at the forge, seeing my body grow and strengthen as I turned form a strong sixteen year old to a superb eighteen year old, right in the prime of his manhood. Rob came over occasionally on Sundays - less and less frequently, actually, as we no longer really had much to talk about. And once I'd done my "duty" with Kate every night, I realised that I could slip away if I wished and join Sam and Dob in the barn for a bit of real sex. Well, it wasn't just Sam and Dob - I worked my way through most of the gardeners, occasionally spent a really fun night with the team of dray ponies, and even tried fucking one of the young runners, although I was always worried that I might snap him in half, as he was so thin and bony! I was pretty potent, though, as Kate was soon pregnant and then I no longer had to service her and was free to go to the barn as soon after dinner as I wanted, but of course once my son was born I had to begin fucking her all over again - but fortunately only for about a month, until I was free again.
The time seemed to go by, and before we knew it, it was Cliff's sixteenth birthday. I don't know what he was expecting, but whatever it was, it wasn't being taken with dad and me to the big house, and then, just as I had been, he was shaved and cleaned out and so on, and all three of us stood there naked in front of the Colonel. Poor Cliff screamed and cried as the Colonel exercised his prerogative to be the first one up his ass, although he didn't have to be strapped down on the "horse" as the Colonel decided that dad and I could hold him down! Poor Cliff, he kept shouting at dad to make it stop, to let him go free, but dad couldn't, could he? Then, when it was dad's "turn" to fuck Cliff, the Colonel made me sit astride him and hold his legs under my arms so dad could get proper access to his ass - Cliff kept tossing his head from side to side, begging me to let him go, and shouting at dad to stop, but I thought his occasional screams were a bit much - after all, dad's a pretty considerate kind of guy and I knew he'd be being as gentle as he could as it was only Cliff's second time.
The Colonel decided that when I fucked Cliff, though, it shouldn't be on the horse - I should just do it on the floor, using whatever position I chose. Cliff struggled and we ended up wrestling together almost as I tried to subdue him and get him into some sort of position, and that was really stupid. I mean, I was now so much bigger and stronger than he was that he had absolutely no hope of avoiding me, did he? And I ended up fucking him in one of the worst positions possible for the guy underneath- although one I quite like as the top: he was flat out on the floor, bell y down, his legs spread and my knees pressing into his thighs to held him there - well, with my hands forcing his shoulders down, too. Then fucking a guy flat can be a lot of fun, as you know he's totally under your control, but the angle that your dick makes as it goes into his hole means it is, to say the least, uncomfortable! Still, as I said, it was his own fault - he must surely have realised by the time the Colonel and dad had fucked him that I was going to do it, too.
On the way back to the house dad had a "serious talk" to Cliff, just as he had with me two years before. And mom was just as kind, and gave him a big hug before he had to go out to the forge to his little sleeping place. One good thing, though - the Colonel had told me that he was pleased with the away I'd behaved, and so I didn't have to fuck Kate that night.
The next weekend was pretty awful, though - dad had warned Cliff that he'd be expected to "perform" for the colonel's guests just as he and I did, and I'd even taken him aside and suggested that we practice - but Cliff never listens to advice like that, so when all three of us were being cleaned out, he was terrified. Dad and I told him we'd be as gentle as we could, and that all he needed to do was to relax and not struggle, but it didn't seem to help. Dad even broke his own strict rules of behaviour and stood with his arms around Cliff's shoulders outside the doors to the big formal dining room, trying to comfort him.
It was a terrible performance. Not only because Cliff was so clearly not enjoying it, but because as we went in I saw that one of the tuxedoed figures around the table was Rob! He'd never come before, but I heard the Colonel welcoming him, and suggesting that it was really good to see Rob following in his father's footsteps and attending these things as he was now so grown up. It almost threw me completely, and it was really hard to keep my erection and fuck Cliff in front of Rob
I tried to put the memory of that ghastly evening behind me as I went to the lake on Sunday afternoon, and to my surprise, there was Rob - I hadn't really seen him for six months, I suppose, and I'd kind of thought that our friendship was over as he'd gradually increased the lengths of time between his visits. He grinned at me, and said cheerfully, as if it was the most normal thing in the world "good to see you, Steve... And last night.... Hey, man, a really good performance - all the guys there said how fantastic it was to see two brothers going at it like that, and then the way that your dad fucked Cliff, too. And it was a real surprise when you'd managed to recover so quickly and went right up your dad as soon as he'd finished: you really are lucky, Steve, to have a body like that.... You've got a great ass, you know - seeing it pumping away was pretty special. If I'm invited again, though, I hope they get someone to fuck you - I'd like to see what happens when a big dick goes up you...."
I just sat there in silence, and he said "Aren't you going to swim?" I had been going to, after all, that's why I went down to the lake. But somehow I was embarrassed to be stripping off now in front of Rob, although why, I don't know, as he'd seen me nude enough times before here at the lakeside, and now he'd watched me fuck last night. So I just said "How about you, R... Sir? Aren't you going in as well?"
"Oh no, Steve, not today. I just came down here as I thought you might be around - we always came here in the old days, after all. So you go ahead..."
"No, I don't think I want to, after all."
"Well strip off, at least, and let me have another look at you..."
I just sat there, almost shocked. I mean, this used to be my best buddy. And now he was ordering me to strip for him. I said nothing, and just sat there, my head almost resting on my knees.
"Steve, I told you to strip off!". Rob's tone had changed now, but I just sat there still.
"Hey, Steve, perhaps you've forgotten - you're a slave, aren't you?"
"Sir, yes, sir." I was heavily ironic as I said that, making like I was a nigga, but went on "But with respect, sir, you're not my owner."
Rob blazed with anger then. "You fucking uppity slave! I don't think the Colonel has been strict enough with you. My father's one of your owner's best friends, and if I tell a slave on this place to do something, I expect to be obeyed. Now, strip off, as I want to take another look at that ass of yours. Or do I have to walk back and fetch Mr. Stryker?"
I just shrugged. This really must be some sort of low point in my life, I thought. And as Rob watched, his eyes strangely gleaming, I started to unbutton my jeans and push them down.
He never came back to the lake after that - he didn't do anything, actually, just made me stand there naked and turn around so he could take a good look at me, and told me how much I'd improved since I'd been at work. And what a nice dick I had, and how he'd heard I'd "proved" myself by getting Kate pregnant twice. But it was fucking humiliating anyway - I mean, he was just leaving High School, and I was a hardened working slave, a slave who'd been at work for two years, and who'd sired kids. I just knew it wasn't right to have to obey him like that.
End Of Part 7