THE LABOURER by Pete Brown. petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories in groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part 6
Mike called to Sean to keep his prod at the ready, then snapped at me to go over to the corner of the room. Standing there was one of the "horses" that you see around - I'd never been much interested in that sort of stuff, but when I'd been in one of the big home stores getting a few things for my place, I suppose I'd noticed the displays of them that were in the "household and servants" section, along with the bookcases, tables, chairs and other stuff that these places now went in for. I guess that if I'd thought about it much I'd have seen that there was more to this indentured servant business than at first met the eye - the fact that these big warehouses bothered to stock a range of "horses" ought to have triggered at least a thought that perhaps servants got punished - I mean, you wouldn't stock and sell these things if people didn't buy them, and people presumably wouldn't buy them unless they had a use for them, would they?
This was one of the "de luxe" models, I'd guess: not just cheap steel and plastic that you could fold away and hang up in the garage, but a proper piece of furniture. The legs were nicely shaped and the walnut they were made of was brightly polished, and the top was covered in that kind of expensive black leather that glows dully as much from the fineness of the grain as from any polish that's been used on it. You could also tell that it must have cost a lot of money as there were various adjustment mechanisms on it and these were all made out of quality brass, as far as I could see.
These bastards, I thought to myself, they're going to put me on this punishment horse and cane me - and I haven't even done anything wrong, and I'm not working so there's no excuse for driving me to give my all. "Get on the horse, Steve", Mike said calmly.
"Please, Mike.... I haven't done anything yet...."
"You just did, anyway, Steve! Remember what I said about proper respect for your indenture owner? I warned you about familiarity - I was Mike when we were drinking together, but now I own your contract. You just don't listen, do you? Or if you do listen, you don't learn! Well, we have ways of making unruly guys like you really toe the line.... As you'll find out. Now, get on the fucking horse, before you make your position any worse!"
I looked at the black top of the thing in front of me, and wondered what I was supposed to do. As I've said, I'd never taken any notice of stuff like this before, and when you see something that looks like an overgrown sawhorse, only with a wider top, it's not immediately clear, is it?
"Lie on it, you idiot!". Mike's tone suggested now that he was losing his temper. "Lie on it, on your belly, with your chin in the chin support at the front and your feet on the ground! You've got a lot to learn, I can tell."
"Please, M... Sir! I haven't done anything..."
"Shut the fuck up! I don't care what you have or haven't done. You're my servant, and when I tell you to do something, you do it. Now get on that horse!"
Out of the corner of my eye I could see Sean holding his prod at the ready, and he looked as if he was eager to use it on me. I remembered the agony of the thing as it touched my bare skin, and decided that obeying Mike was the easiest thing to do! I stood at the ened of the horse, and lowered myself on to it - I can remember now, all this time later, that first time I felt the cool clamminess of the finely grained leather against my belly and my chest as I let my body down in a perfectly controlled way. And the chin support neatly allowed me to keep my head straight and my eyes down as I didn't have to turn my head to one side. I shuffled my feet on the floor, feeling my dick and balls hanging down freely as the top of the horse stopped just below my navel.
Mike came over, said "Hands down at the sides, Steve....", then knelt down and fixed my wrists into the straps on the front legs - the fine leather was lined with Velcro, so it was easy to do and took only seconds. I wriggled my wrists around as I wasn't used to being restrained at all, and Mike saw me.
"Never done anything like this before, then? Not even in fun?"
"No, of course not...."
"No 'of course' about it, Steve! Some guys like being restrained. Don't worry about it - the leather's nice and soft, so you can pull as hard as you like at it and it won't injure you - I need you to work, not lie around all day with bandages on your wrists! Now, spread those legs...."
As he said this, Mike's leather shoes kicked at the inside of my ankles - not enough to damage them, but there was that sharp shock as something hard hits your ankle bone, as it does sometimes on the football field. I winced, and shuffled my legs apart almost automatically. Then Mike was tugging at my ankles, positioning them by the rear legs of the horse, and fastening them with more leather cuffs.
"I've used the cuffs on short chains", he said conversationally to Rob, "so that he has a bit of movement in the legs. And I'm not going to use the belly strap, either. Is that OK with you?"
"I guess so....", Rob answered, a touch of uncertainty in his voice.
"You've not done this before, have you?"
"No, Mike. You know... I never got around to doing it with a guy, and all the girls at college were always eager...."
Mike laughed gently. "I guess you'll need a bit of help, then. And some privacy.... Sean, he's safely tied down now, so you can leave us. I'll call you when we're ready to have him taken off to the barracks."
"Sure, Mike.", Sean replied, and Mike continued "So, Rob, a first time for both you and Steve! Well, let me explain.... With the ankles having some movement, as Steve has....."
I yelped in surprise, and my body tried to jerk right of the horse, at the sheer unexpectedness of a hard slap from Mike, with his open palm on my bare butt!
"As you can see", Mike continued, "He has some movement with the loose leg restraints, and without the belly strap. In the trade we call it restraining the servant as a 'buckaroo' - I think it's an Australian term, coming from kangaroos or something, meaning they can jump around. The other way of doing it is to hold his ankles rigidly to the rear legs, in the same way as his wrists are rigidly on the front legs, and use the big strap around his belly, cinched really tight, to make him almost totally immobile. It depends on what you want to do - totally immobile, the servant knows he's under total restraint, completely in your power, and he can't do anything to mitigate in any way what you're going to do him. But as a buckaroo, it's more interesting - in practice, of course, the servant is still under total restraint and can't prevent you doing what ever you like, but because his body has some movement, his reflexes and his brain will try to stop you doing what you want - he'll twist, writhe, buck and generally squirm in a futile attempt to evade what's coming to him."
"Overall", he continued, "buckaroo is best - afterwards, the servant has more of a feeling of your total power over him: in spite of all his efforts, he wasn't able to evade you. Rigid restraint is easier from the point of view of actually doing whatever you want, and it has the same physical effect on the servant, but there's that little bit of psychology missing: some part of his brain is telling him he was powerless, that there was nothing he could do about it, and so he doesn't have that feeling of having submitted totally to you in spite of all his efforts. But as this is your first time, perhaps I should tighten him up...."
"You say a buckaroo jumps and thrashes and wriggles...."
"Yes, Rob. That's why, for your first time, it might be better to have him held rigid...."
"No, Mike! Leave him! Between you and me, I'm tired of a lack of response.... All my Karen ever does is just lie there like a lump of meat!"
"Hey, Rob - I can see you're a fun guy! I'd kind of had you marked down as a really boring lawyer type - if you like this kind of thing, we'll have to do it again. Now, come and stand over here.... And let's lose our pants...."
I heard that unmistakable sound of rustling cloth and the "clink" as belt buckles hit the floor, and then felt fabric brushing against my butt. "You're not embarrassed, are you, Rob?"
"Hell no, Mike! I'm used to guys seeing me in my boxers - I still go to the gym, you know."
"Well lose those, too - I need to adjust the height of the horse for maximum convenience - there's no point in you having to struggle and be uncomfortable when I have one of these deluxe models."
I felt something brush up against my thighs - another guy! It was Rob's hairy legs. I stated to shout "No, Rob, don't.... Don't be so fucking stupid...."
Mike was doing something to one of the wheels on the side of the horse and it moved slightly so that my head was lowered. Calmly he was saying to Rob "There - with his butt more in the air, it makes a better angle.... Any time you're ready...."
Rob's body pushed against mine, and I could feel his dick nudging at my butt! Well, I assume it was his dick - I couldn't see, and I had no experience, but it was hot, and rigid. I began to try to get away, to move my legs, buck up and down as far a s I could within the limits of my wrists being held and my ankles chained - I was aware of my body flopping up and down on the leather of the horse as I impotently tried to escape. I heard myself scream "No, you fucker, no! Don't Rob, Please.... You dirty fucker; you utter cunt; Jesus fucking Christ, Rob; you...."
Mike pushed my head roughly to the side, and gripped my nose. I had to stop shouting as my air was cut off, and as I opened my mouth, Mike stuffed a handkerchief in it - I remember noticing that it was a silk one, probably very expensive. I couldn't force it out with my tongue, and all I could now do was give choked sounds as I carried on screaming.
"There, that's better", Mike told Rob. "Personally, I like to hear the guy shout and moan a bit, as it show's he's experiencing it properly and it makes it a more exciting experience for you. But the first time, especially for someone like Steve who's a bit wild and has never shown any form of restraint or self discipline before.... well, all that cursing is too much. There's a difference between the cries of pain and outrage you might expect, and sheer nasty swearing like that."
Rob's dick - as that's what it must be - was now forcing my butt cheeks apart. He seemed to be really struggling, and then I felt his hands (hot and sweaty) on my butt, prising my muscles apart. And then I almost shot in the air as a totally new sensation, something I'd never experienced before, struck me - he was moving his dick head up and down in my ass crack, all the time forcing himself towards me, and resting the front of his thighs against mine. Going along with that strangely ticklish sensation of a disk head scraping your ass, there was that other one of his sweat-soaked hairy thighs brushing against mine: I could almost feel the hairs sliding over each other. Now I know that this is one of those great feelings that you can have - another guy's thighs pressed so close to yours - you really experience the heat, and the power of having a guy so intimately close to you, more so than when your torsos are together, I think, but then, that's just my opinion. But this first time it was different, I was still trying to get to understand what was happening when it stopped - I had that odd sensation in my gut as all my muscles tightened as Rob's dick head was directly over my ass hole.
"No", I tried to scream again, but the gag stopped me, and instead I could just feel sweat pouring off me, the veins in my temples throbbing with the anger and shame I was feeling, and my lungs straining as they fought to get enough air to keep my body trying desperately to move, and my voice to continue attempting to make itself heard.
Rob seemed to be having trouble, as I'd clamped my ass shut to stop him getting in, but all the time I could feel the pressure of his dick increasing inexorably as it forced itself against my hole, and he seemed to be resting his whole weight against my thighs and my butt . "Come on, you fucker! Open up, Steve...", he hissed, and I resisted all the more.
But it's no use, is it? Once you're pinned under a guy, especially when you can't hit out with your arms or kick with your legs, it's effectively all over. You're only really arguing about "when" and not "if", that dick is finally going to enter you. I suddenly felt it get past - and I really did feel it - I let out a huge scream (muffled), and carried on, my throat going hoarse, as Rob pushed himself all the way in. He stopped then, and I'm sure I could feel his wiry pubic hair pressed hard against my butt - or was it just my imagination? I think he must have been breathing just as hard as I was - I'd been doing a lot more "work", trying to thrash around and stop him, but he was a lot less fit than I was. I could hear his breath rasping as he stood there, pressed against me, and then he started to fuck me.
It was a classic, I suppose. You know the sort of thing - starting slowly, pulling his dick out almost to the full extent, then sliding it in slowly again, as if he was afraid something might break, or he might hurt me too much. But then his excitement and his confidence began to build, and soon he was doing that classic combination of a few short, fast, hard thrusts, followed by a complete change of tempo as he pulled in and out slowly, almost luxuriantly.
I don't know which was worse - being fucked at all, or being fucked by my oldest buddy. How could he be doing this to me? We'd been at school together, drank in bars all the time, talked about the women we'd fucked. I'd been at his wedding.... everything. And now here I was, tied down, with his dick ravishing me just as if I was some rent boy he'd picked up down south of Main street! Although I was still shouting my rage, and my pain, somewhere inside me I knew it was going to end, and that one day, one day soon, I would have revenge. I gritted my teeth as best I could, and struggled to take control of my body - I am, after all, an athlete and I ought to be able to take charge of my muscles. Deliberately I stopped myself from thrashing around. I forced myself to stop shouting as it was wasting my breath. I made my breathing slow. I stopped my feet from shuffling around uselessly on the floor. I just lay there, still, and took the pounding up my ass that he was giving me.
Rob went through a sudden phase of fast, medium-length trusts, all the time panting and gasping, then he gave a great shout "Oh, sweet Jesus and the fucking Virgin... Fuck.... Yes......", and his pubic bone slammed into my ass one last time. He stayed there, his dick buried in me as deep as it would go, but is body fell forward on to mine. He gripped my shoulders with his sweaty hands, and I could feel his hot breath covering the nape of my neck, and his whole soaked body lying the length of mine. The pounding of his heart and the rasp of his chest hair against my back all came through to me as I was conscious of his weight lying all along me. I found myself almost whimpering - the pain, yes, but the shame, too, and the anger. I like to think it was just sweat from my forehead that was making a tiny rivulet down the side of my face, but, if I'm honest, it was tears, too. Look, I know a guys isn't supposed to cry; and I certainly wouldn't have wanted to give Rob the satisfaction of knowing that he'd done that to me. But it was just all so totally overwhelming, I couldn't help it: not the pain, so much as that dreadful feeling that I was no longer a proper man, that I'd been violated, brutally violated, and my manhood was gone.
I don't know how long we stayed like that - it seemed to be hours, but it was probably no more than a couple of minutes. Then Rob pulled his dick out of me, and stood up.
"Wow!", he said, to no one in particular.
"Pretty good for a first time....", I heard Mike congratulate him, almost laughing. "I enjoyed that - seeing Steve thrash around like a demented thing, and his anger.... It makes for a real show. And you're pretty good - you're still in fair shape, too, and that always makes it more enjoyable for a spectator: no one likes to see a big flabby ass, but your butt's still good and taut and when you were pounding away, it was a great show."
"Here....", he went on. "Clean yourself up on this.... We can have a shower later before you go home to that wife of yours - it wouldn't do to get into her bed stinking of cum and Steve's shit, would it?"
"Fucking right!", Rob replied, with that smile in his voice with which I was so familiar, and which I had usually only heard when we'd been having a good laugh together about something or other. "That's the best fuck I've had for years. My wife's like a lump of dead meat, as I said, but the way Steve's ass gripped me, and all the movement: a real buckaroo, I guess you'd say - fucking amazing!"
"My turn now, though! I don't usually like sloppy seconds - but as Steve is still nicely warmed up from you, it may still be pretty good....."
I heard Mike's boxers fall to the floor, and then I jerked and started thrashing and screaming again as he began to slap my butt - hard. And a guy can hit your butt very hard, as you probably know, when he uses his arm outstretched, and he doesn't care about whether he's hurting you at all, and isn't playing some sex game. Above the sounds of the slaps I heard him gasping out to Rob "This is always good, too - it shows the boy that you're really in control of him. Tanning his butt like this when he can't stop you is very satisfying - not only are you totally controlling his body, but you're preparing him for your dick: his butt will be so tender that as you slam into him when you're fucking, he'll get a whole new set of sensations and he'll react so much more vigorously to you. I'd always recommend giving a butt a good hiding before you fuck it."
He stopped then, and I felt him pulling my poor, battered, smarting butt cheeks apart. I thought they must be glowing almost red from the hiding they'd taken, and far from it being a "warm glow" suffusing me, it was fucking painful! He didn't waste time playing around with his dick up my crack as Rob had done, but positioned himself right at my hole immediately and thrust brutally in. I suppose I was ready for it, or at least my hole was stretched or something as it didn't hurt quite so much, although it did make me give a great cry of agony. And I could just about bear to stand there and take it as he thrust mechanically and rhythmically away in and out of me - almost no variation of pace or anything it was almost as if it was a purely mechanical process and not something sexual at all.
It didn't take long for him to cum, though, and as soon as he had he pulled out of me, and I could see him out of the corner of my eye wiping his dick and his groin on a towel. "That's the problem with going second", he told Rob. "Not only is the boy loose so he doesn't grip as well, but you get splattered with all the cum and shit and stuff that's still up there. And I like a real buckaroo, too - that was just a little bit passive for me: it's one of the advantages of being a contractor and having a lot of indentures that you get to break a lot of virgins, and they are usually just as spirited as Steve the first time. Still - fancy that shower now?"
I went to say "yes", as I could feel a horrible trickle of something warm and wet running down the inside of my thighs, and just knew that my legs were getting covered in shit and cum. I tried to clamp my ass shut to stop it, but it didn't seem to be working.
But the gag prevented any sensible words from coming out, and anyway, I realised that Mike had been addressing Rob, not me.
"Sure! I always like a good shower after a hard workout! But what about Steve?"
"Oh, now he's been 'broken' he can go off and join the other servants in the barracks. I'll send Sean in to see to him.
"Aren't you worried he might run away, escape? I think this evening's been pretty traumatic for him....
And he's always very headstrong anyway. After this, he might do a runner...."
"No, not really. Some of them do try it, but they all get caught sooner or later. They've got no money, no credit cards... And they can't get any: as soon as they try to work, an employer has to run fingerprint checks now with the Department Of Homeland Security and then he'd be shown up as an escaped indentured servant. They're soon traced, and returned here - half starved, most of them!"
"But isn't it a lot of trouble for you?"
"No, one call to report him gone, and the government does the rest - all his fingerprints and stuff are on file now. And it almost does me a favour...."
"Why, Mike?"
"Well it kind of 'encourages' the others - I always have an escaped servant whipped. Properly whipped, that is, with a bull whip. I bring in a professional whipper, make a bit of an occasion of it - give the others a couple of hours off, have them lined up, erect a cross to tie the escapee to... A bit of theatre never hurts. And then they all see just what happens to an escapee - those bull whips aren't like tawses or canes, you know: every stroke tears into the flesh and the blood flies. After twelve strokes the guy's half dead, and after twenty, which is when I stop as I don't want to kill a valuable asset, he can't even stand when he's cut down from the cross. It takes at least a week before he can even start to work, and after a month he's still in dreadful pain from the scars. It really teaches the others a lesson, I'll tell you. So if Steve runs, I lose out on a month's work, but I more than make it up from that little 'extra willingness' all the others show whenever they see his tattered body."
"Come on", Mike continued. "I've got a nice double shower - and after exercise like we've just had, we deserve a bit of relaxation.... Just leave Steve here and Sean will do the rest."
The two of them went out, arms around each others shoulders, still talking, and I was left there lying on the horse, now starting to feel slightly chilly as all the sweat evaporated off me. There was nothing I could do about it, though, so I just had to lie there, and sooner or later Sean came back in to the room. He came over and gently tugged the handkerchief out of my mouth.
"Tough, was it?", he asked, as if he was just speaking about some piece of work on the site, and not my rape!
"Mister Rooney usually likes to gag the guys the first time."
I ran my tongue around my mouth, clearing it, and coughed a bit. "Please, is it always like this?"
"Yes. Mister Rooney likes to 'break' the new guys, take their cherries. Mind you, most of them have already been fucked into the ground before - most indentured servants are criminals, and they lose it whilst waiting for trial, or before they're selected to become indentured servants. You're a bit of an exception - and having your buddy along, too... Still, let's get on - if you're still here when they've finished showering - although that could take a long time, as they've got young Joey in with them, and he's always fun to have in the shower with you as he's really inventive - I'll be in trouble for not keeping the servants busy, and you might get fucked again!"
He bent down to start to undo my cuffs, and as my first wrist came free, I started to stretch it angrily.
"Now, Steve, you're not going to be a bad boy, are you? Look, we can do this two ways - either I can let you free and you can behave sensibly and we can get on and get you cleaned up and into bed, as we start early in the mornings here, as you know. Or you can start to throw yourself around again, act the big tough macho man who's out for revenge - in which case I'll go and get some of the other boys to subdue you, then I'll punish you, and we'll carry on until you do start to behave sensibly. But I suspect that your ass has had enough punishment for one day, and so your best bet would be to co-operate...."
He was right, of course. So I just lay there, almost supine, as he undid the rest of my shackles, and then stood up calmly and waited, still feeling the cum and shit trickling down the insides of my legs.
"Come on then, Steve", Sean said. "You do need a shower! And I guarantee you'll sleep tonight!"
End Of Part 6