THE LABOURER by Pete Brown. petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories in groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part 9
As you might have guessed, Danny talked! Once we were back at Rooney's place that night I could see him chatting and whispering to the other guys - he tended to be one of those who "hung out" at the end of the barracks rather than going straight to sleep. And the next morning in the showers, I started to get the "benefit" of this - guys brushed past my body now, no longer casually and unavoidably as the showers were so crowded, but with a seemingly deliberate intent to move their butts against my dick. You know that I've usually got a morning wood, and although I mostly managed to control it after I'd been awake for a couple of minutes, I was still a bit "on edge", and so having a lot of firm male flesh constantly rubbing against it in the showers made it stir into life again, and I began to stand there erect. That only drove some of the guys on, of course, and they tried to do things like bend down to pick up the soap directly in front of me, then "casually" push backwards....
That morning Craig and I were working in the same gang together and as we sped off to the site he settled himself against me in the back of the truck, and whispered, trying not to move his lips too much (we could talk like this, as the overseer could only watch us through the rear view mirror and couldn't actually hear us) "So, I've got help! Look, I don't mind, so don't worry about upsetting me."
I really had no idea what he was talking about. So I hissed back, keeping my own lips still "Sure, Craig. Thanks. But what don't you mind?"
"Who you fuck. I've had the field to myself up until now, but now you've come along and you're a top too, that's great! We might even manage a session together one day, who knows, and really pound into some of the others...."
"What?"
"Oh, come on, Steve! You must know the way it is! There's never really enough of us tough, aggressive tops to go around - most guys like to lie there and take it, rather than going hard at it, like you and me. They manage, of course - they need sex as much as everyone, and so one of a pair sooner or later manages to give it to the other, but it's not as good for either of them as if they had you or me really pushing it into them, is it? I mean, you must know how desperate most guys are for someone who knows how to wield a dick... In the county jail wasn't it the same?"
Oh fuck me! Here I was, going to have to compound my lies again. But there was no going back now. So I dissembled, saying "Yes, I just hadn't thought of it that way before."
"Well, as I said, it's a bit of a relief, actually - all these guys always pleading to get my dick whenever there's a spare minute. And I don't have any favourites, so I don't care which of them you fuck. To tell you the truth, I was relieved when Danny said that you were a really great fucker - I was looking at you and wondering if you'd be after my dick, too, like the others..."
"Oh no, I don't like taking dick. Mister Rooney and his buddy stuck it to me the first day I was here, and it was awful."
"Sure, Steve. Rooney always takes the asses of the new guys. The fucker did it to me, too. First time for a long time, a very long time, I can tell you. I guess it was the same for you?"
"Sure. The first time, actually. The only time."
"Hey, Steve, you must be a real top! You never took it before, not even when you ere young?"
"No."
"Hey, man, that first day must have been tough, then! No wonder you went around looking like a wet weekend when we first saw you! Still, I don't suppose he'll fuck you again - Rooney only does it to show his authority over all of us. He just has that young Joey - well, he's only a young guy, isn't he, and I expect you've looked at his body?"
I mumbled, as quietly as I could, "Oh, yes."
"Well Joey's like a lot of guys - his dick's OK, but his body hasn't finished developing. If you look at his butt you can see there's a long way to go yet - if he was worked really hard he'd soon put a lot more muscled on there and I think he'd probably have a really tempting nice round butt that would be worth forcing your dick through. But I think Rooney likes them kind of tender, as he is now: slender and kind of virginal! Not a real man's fuck, in my view, eh?
Well, what was I supposed to do? I'd never looked at guys' bodies before critically, with a view to sizing them up for fucking! But Craig sort of expected it - it was as if he'd think me less of a man if I admitted to not having thought about all the other guys from the point of view of fucking them. I couldn't have that, could I? So I muttered back "Yes, it's OK if you really need to get your juices out of course, but give me a real man, a strong muscular butt, every time."
"I can see you're going to really enjoy it here, Steve! The one thing that all the work gives us is firm butts and rock solid thighs! But I hear that you like to fuck throat as well...."
"Well, doesn't everyone?", I murmured, trying to be as noncommittal as possible.
"Fucking right! Real tops like you and me know that it puts the bottom really in his place if you fuck his throat and make him gag before you get down to the serious business. And Danny says you like to play a bit rough, too - slapped him around, didn't you?"
"Only once!"
"That's it, Steve! The secret! Just enough to remind those snivelling cocksuckers that you're in charge, you're the top. Hey, Steve, you're a guy after my own heart - I'm like that, too: a bit of rough play, before the serious business. We're really going to have to work on it and get a good session going..."
"I thought Mister Rooney didn't let us guys have sex...."
"No, he doesn't. But as you saw yesterday, there are ways and means. Sometimes the overseers can't supervise us as it's only a small job, or it might be a big job when there's a serious hold-up: they'll turn a blind eye to what we do then, as if they try to make us do 'fake work', or just do exercises, or something, the other guys on the site complain - a lot of the free men feel pretty bad about the way we're treated at the best of times. So there are opportunities, and you just have to keep your eyes open."
We were approaching the site now, and Craig fell silent. And I sat there thinking about all of this - what the fuck was I going to do now? I'd dug myself even deeper in the hole, not exactly lying to Craig, but I'm sure he wouldn't see it that way, even had I been able to produce a transcript of our conversation, which of course I could not. I'd just have to hope that none of those "opportunities" resented themselves to me! I mean, I liked Craig - he was very similar to me in many ways: about the same age, with the same big-framed tall body, nicely muscled. And he appeared to have graduated High School, as I had, unlike a couple of the guys who I'd tried to talk to and who appeared to be thick as pig shit. But there's a difference between liking a guy, and wanting to have sex with him.
That day we were digging trenches again, and as we toiled away I realised that there were two forms of inducement to make me work - the overseer's tawse kept landing on my bare shoulders as I'd come to expect, and there'd be the occasional cut of the cane if I ever stopped, even for a moment. But from the moment we'd arrived Craig had contrived to work next to me, and it was as if we were competing with each other - I saw a faint smile across his face as I lifted my first shovel full of spoil, and saw that his shovel was actually overflowing. Then when I started taking really big shovelsful, he started working even faster than the overseers drove us to!
I could feel his eyes on me all the time, and I knew we were in a real competition with each other: it's one of those things guys do, almost unconsciously, isn't it? You just can't help it - you see another guy, look at what he's doing, and you just want to do better, no, you need to do better! The harder Craig worked, the harder I worked, and the harder I worked, the harder he worked. By the time we got to our brief break for "lunch", we were both pretty much done in, I reckon, and it was equally clear that neither of us was ahead! That afternoon was sheer unadulterated hell for each of us - we ere almost totally exhausted, and Sean, the overseer that day, had of course seen what we were capable of doing in the morning - so he was determined that we shouldn't "slack" in the afternoon. So the blows rained down onto both of us, and as we genuinely faltered as our strength failed, Sean didn't have the good sense to realise that our morning's efforts truly had been exceptional and we couldn't keep it up. But you can, of course - well, you can if the overseer just doesn't care how much he hurts you.
Both Craig and I were soon almost shouting out with the pain as Sean tore into us, and even though I knew I was "through the barrier" and was burning up that extra ten percent of strength and power, it wasn't enough: it was no longer the tawse on our bare shoulders now, but hard swipes from Sean's cane, normally reserved for the big muscles of the butt. And if you've ever had a cane come down across your shoulders, you'll know that it's a wholly new level of pain lurking there, without the muscle to cushion it, and with the tips of your shoulder blades being very sensitive anyway. Now Craig and I were looking at each other, as we had been all morning, but these looks were no longer of defiance and challenge as we were forced to continue to compete against each other, but of despair and defeat.
It was lucky for us that the site closed promptly at six that evening - if they'd said we had to work on, to finish, I believe that both Craig and I would have been destroyed totally. As it was, we didn't even have the energy or enthusiasm to whisper to each other on the journey "home" - our backs were so sore we couldn't even rest against the cool metal sides of the truck, and just sat there, our heads buried between our hunched up knees, as we tried to protect our inflamed skin. And the hot water didn't really revive us in the shower, either - and Craig told a couple of the guys who were thrusting their butts against him to fuck off! I realised it was OK to do that, and I did the same, noticing that the guys seemed to have even more respect for me. I'd obviously got a lot to learn about being a "top"!
As it so happens one of those "occasions" occurred the next day on a site - six of us were crawling around doing paving, when they ran out of paving stones. Sean was the overseer, but he chose to go off and sit in the site manager's office and chat, so all of us were left to our own devices. We went off and found a quiet corner, behind a big pile of materials that were waiting to be used, and it was warm and sunny. We all stretched out on the grass, and I lay there just enjoying the sunshine, and doing nothing. Id almost drifted off into one of those lovely brief dozes that I now never had, when there was a thump beside me and a guy's hand rested itself on my belly and started to move slowly, very slowly, up towards my pecs.
"Hey....", I snapped, as I came out of my half-dreamy state.
"Steve, can we have a bit of fun?"
"What?"
"We're not going to have to work again today, I'll bet.... So can we play, Steve? Come on...."
I grasped the wrist of the hand that was now stroking me, the fingers playing with the hair on my chest, and sat up. I glared down at Ted, a guy who was about my age, but only five ten or so, although, like all of us, well muscled.
"What the fuck do you think you're doing?", I snarled.
"Hey, Steve.... I only wanted to, well, you know, play a bit.... Danny told us all about how good you were, and as we haven't got anything else to do this afternoon, I thought, well, you know..."
I looked at Ted, and was going to tell him to piss off, as I knew it was OK to do that now, but, on the other hand, I'd not really jerked off the day before, and I was feeling kind of horny. Craig was looking at me, and it occurred to me I needed to be careful what I said, for fear of giving myself away. I thought about having Ted suck me off but the more I thought about it, the more it seemed to be a waste - he had a nice body, and feeling his skin against mine was a bit of a turn on. I looked over and saw Craig was already starting to position a Mexican guy, who we all just called Mex, on the ground, bending his legs upwards.... and I thought to myself, why the hell not?
"Get those shorts off, and on your knees....", I said, and was almost pleased to see Ted give me a big broad grin. If he was so eager, it would be easy. He did as I'd said, and knelt there, his shoulders right down, so his butt was ready for me. I knelt between his legs, and for a moment wondered if I was going to be able to do it - but the sight of Ted's ass made me go hard, so I spat on my hands and slathered the spit over my dick to lube me a little. I pushed his butt cheeks apart, positioned my dick at his ass hole, and pushed. I heard Ted groan, and for a moment I was worried that I was doing something wrong, or that I should have lubed him or something. But he'd asked for it, hadn't he?
"This is going to be a rough fuck,....", I muttered, and simply slammed into him. Ted gave a great groan, more of a shout of pain, and his body almost moved forward against my onslaught, but I was in. It was so exciting that I didn't want to stop - I could feel Ted's ass gripping my dick, and that felt fantastic. I started to thrust in and out of him, in a way that was giving me most fun, and frankly I stopped even thinking about Ted or what he wanted or how he wanted it. I could hear him, almost as if it was an exciting counterpoint to my rhythm, grunting and crying out faintly in time to my activity, and I didn't care - he'd asked for it, hadn't he? And what matters most is the guy on top, isn't it? I mean, when you're fucking a guy, it's you that matters really - you're in charge, you're doing all the work, and he's just there to service you. So as my excitement mounted my strokes got harder and harder, and Ted's body was twitching and shuddering as he knelt there and just had to take it. I was vaguely aware of his hands twitching away - he'd kind of folded his arms to cradle his head in, and I could see his fingers flexing and extending, and almost beating up and down of the grass. Ted was beginning to shout now, and I was worried that all the noise he was making might attract other guys from the site, so without breaking my stroke I reached forward and pressed my fingers and thumb into his corded neck muscles, and pushed his face down. "Shut the fuck up!", I snapped, and in some way Ted responded to this, understanding from the pressure of my fingers that I was totally in control, and his cries descended into just the loud groans again.
As I've said, I hadn't jerked myself off the night before, so I was pretty much on edge - and it was over all too soon. I felt my balls beginning to contract, and so I had one final massive slam into Ted, really trying to force the last millimetre of my dick into him, and was rewarded with that delicious sensation as the streams of hot cum shot down my dick, and high up into Ted.
I was thinking about lying with Ted for a few minutes and kind of buddying up to him, but for some reason I didn't - I just pulled out and knelt there, my dick still dribbling with the last of my cum, and watched Ted stayed there, his butt still high in the air and his head pressed down into his arms. He was silent now, his sobbing halted, and I was about to say something - well, actually, I was feeling a bit guilty about the way I'd treated him, and might have a apologised or something . Well, not that I'd got anything to apologise for, as he'd asked for it, hadn't he? But Ted moved, kind of uncurled himself and knelt there, too. He turned around to face me, and said "Wow, Steve! Thanks!"
"You OK?"
"Hey, yes. A bit sore. But that was some epic fuck, Steve. It's true what they say - you're a real top, aren't you?"
I just shrugged, and pointed at my dick. "Go and get some water, and clean me off."
"Hey, man... Clean yourself...."
I suppose I was still in "control" mode as it was as if my body knew exactly what to do. My hand snaked out and I grabbed Ted's arm, and almost pulled him off balance. "Listen, fucker, when you've been fucked by me, you do what you're told! Now, go and fetch some water or something and clean me off, or else you'll find I can use my body in other ways, rather less pleasant!" As I said this I stretched my body so that I was towering over Ted. He in turn looked at me, and I tightened my fingers around his arm, and applied pressure. I could see Ted grimace, not wanting to admit that I was hurting him, and then he gave in - I could almost visibly see him crumble in front of me, and he nodded. "Sure thing, Steve....", he muttered.
I lay back on the grass, just revelling in the sunshine, the feeling of the grass on my bare skin, and that fantastic sensation sweeping over me that you get when you've just fucked. I almost drifted off to sleep, but there was a noise, and I opened my eyes, squinting against the bright sun, and there was Ted with a bucket.
So, OK, the water was cold, and that's a bit of a shock on your dick and balls. But having Ted bending over me using his hands and a scrap of cloth he'd found from somewhere to wash my dick and clean it of his crap was rather exciting. I almost groaned with pleasure as he skinned me back and gingerly started to wipe at my dick head, but like a lot of guys who aren't used to it, he was so fucking clumsy that he managed to almost hurt me by his handling of my head. "Watch it!", I shouted, my voice rising in pitch, and I saw Ted shrink a bit as me muttered "Sorry, Steve!".
When he'd finished he knelt there, and looked down at me. "Thanks, Steve....", he said. "Can we do that again?"
"Maybe." I decided to be almost noncommittal as although I'd enjoyed the whole thing, I didn't really want to have to agree to fucking Ted again - after all, something inside said, there were all those other guys that Craig had said wanted a top to fuck them! Maybe it would be fun t otry them As I speculated about this, and about how my attitude to sex had changed, I glanced around and saw Craig was just finishing up - the Mexican he'd gone for was on his back and Craig had the guy's legs around his shoulders. I watched Craig's back and butt working away, and then saw that unmistakable final thrust as Craig must have finished. He did fall forward onto Mex, and it looked kind of erotic as the dark, hairy legs of Mex wrapped themselves around Craig's waist, as if he wanted to hold Craig inside him and not let him go.
Ted had been right, actually, and we weren't asked to work again that day - Craig soon finished up with Mex, and came and sat beside me on the grass. "So, how's it going?"
"Fine, thanks..."
"See what I mean? All these guys only want one thing - a big dick up inside them! That Ted's a real whore - he's always trying to get his ass around my dick, so I'm glad you gave him a good hard fucking: perhaps that will make him sore for a few days, and he'll stop whining at me to service him."
"Do you get a lot of that, then?"
"You'll see! As I told you, there's only you and me who really like fucking.... The others do it, but they'd rather have a real stud like you and me doing it to them. So are we going to have another go? It's too good an opportunity to miss - we don't often get time off like this, it's a great afternoon...."
"Count me out - one good fuck a day is enough for me..."
"A guy like you, Steve? You looked to me as if you could go on for ever."
Was he challenging me, I wondered. Was this some sort of competition, to see which of us was the best? I could hardly ignore that, could I?
"It's quality, not quantity, that counts for me, Craig!" I kept my tone light, almost joking. "One really good fuck a day is fine for me."
"Oh, come on, Steve - look, two down, two to go. We've got Dave and Todd over there who are just panting for it. You can't disappoint them - one each, you and me...."
"No, count me out, as I said. I just want to get a bit of sun...."
Craig went on a couple more times, but I'd learned that it was OK to say "no" - one of the things about being in control is that you don't have to be always at the beck and call of the other guys, as it's you who makes the running. If Craig wanted to tire himself out just fucking because they wanted to, more fool him. I could hear the other guys listening to us, and the more I said "no", as I'd had my fill today with Ted, the more they seemed to respect me. And when Craig finally gave up and pulled Todd over to the side to begin fucking him, I think I detected that Todd was not altogether happy - sure, he'd been begging Craig to fuck him, but now, seeing that Craig did it so willingly, it seemed somehow less satisfactory.
After that day off, though, there weren't all that many opportunities for fucking - I suppose that, on average, I managed to do it about twice a week, and the more I did it, the better it got: for one think, I stopped worrying about doing it wrong, stopped worrying about making mistakes, and just totally focussed on enjoying myself. If it was less satisfactory for the other guy, I stopped caring - and in some way, my reputation as a "hard top" was improved: the guys were saying that I was one "mean bastard" but that I knew how to use my dick. When I overheard comments like this in the barracks, I felt really proud.
It must have been about six weeks later that my next lesson about life as an indentured servant was meted out. I'd got totally used to the lack of privacy, had ceased to notice the boring, awful chow bars, and was used to the feeling of the tawse on my skin to "encourage" me - I now realised that the overseers did this a lot, to "remind us they were watching, and it was only if you continued to not give everything you could that they moved on to the cane. And of course towards the end of a long, hard day, the canes would be swishing around a lot - that was OK, it was expected, and it was doing what, deep down, I knew I needed: that final "spur" to make me go the extra mile. I was just wiping myself down after the evening shower, when young Joey came in and told me to get back under the water, as he'd been told to "clean me up".
I asked him why, and he looked kind of scared, saying only that "Mister Rooney ordered it", and "Pleas, Steve.... Let me do it, or he'll punish me." Well, it wasn't that bad - I mean, I'd had my pubes trimmed and my balls shaved when I arrived, and every now and then Joey came into the showers and went around us all "tidying us up" - I'd kind of got used to the feel of the razor against my skin, and actually having another guy handling me there. So I just stood there, looking down at the young lad's white back as he knelt there shaving me. And I didn't even mind when, seeing that the overseers weren't looking, he took the tip of my dick in his mouth and almost kissed it!
"Cut it out, Joey", I said, keeping my tone light, so that he knew I wasn't really cross. "I've had a hard day..."
"Please, Steve... You've fucked all the other guys, or so they say.... Let me at least blow you..."
"Joey, no! I'm tired out.... And what's all this about anyway?"
He looked up at me, and looked almost scared. "Mister Rooney said you were to be cleaned up. He's got another guy with him, and when you're finished, you've got to go over to the house with me...."
At that moment Sean the overseer came in and snapped at both of us to get a move on, as Mister Rooney was waiting, and Joey stood up and helped me dry myself. Sean told me to put on a clean polo and shorts, Joey did the same, and I walked after him along the walkway to the main house. Joey led me into the big reception room, told me to stand there in front of the fireplace, and, as I had learned to, I adopted the "resting" stance with my feet a little apart, my hands clasped behind my back, and my head bowed.
I stood there for what seemed like an age, then I heard voices outside the room, speaking loudly as you do when you've had a couple of drinks and are in a very good mood. The doors opened and Rob and Mike came in.
The noise stopped abruptly, then Rob burst out "Fucking hell! He looks even better....". He came over and stood in front of me, put one finger under my chin and pushed upwards, so I knew that I was supposed to raise my head. In some ways this was one of the most humiliating things that had ever happened to me - I mean, a guy ought to be able to look around freely, oughtn't he, and yet I had to stand eyes cast down until I was given permission to raise them. Looking me straight in the eye my oldest buddy said "Steve, this life suits you! You look fantastic... You always were a stud, but now you're fucking amazing!"
"Do you want to inspect him, Rob", Mike asked. "I mean, you're the primary indenture holder. Do you want to make sure we're taking really good care of your investment?"
"I guess so, Mike."
"Steve, drop those shorts!", Mike rapped, and, when I hesitated, "You still haven't learned, have you? You obey my orders at once, and completely, else it's the horse for you!"
Look, I don't know why I hesitated. I'd spent enough time naked with the other labourers by now, and I'd never been particularly body shy anyway. And now that I'd discovered real sex, and knew that there were so any men lusting after my body, why on earth should I care? But perhaps it was having Rob there, or perhaps it was being inside a normal room, not a barracks... I don't know really. But Mike's words had a chill ring to them, and I remembered the last time I'd been in this room. Quickly I slid the shorts to the floor, then pulled the polo over my head, and resumed the "rest" position, now acutely conscious that the eyes of both men were on me.
"He's amazing", Rob said again. "Absolutely superb - whilst I've been away on that assignment I was telling you about you must have really been working him hard."
"Oh, not particularly - just the same as all the other guys. Although as he was pretty well set up to start with, that extra ten percent does really look special." Changing his tone, Mike rapped at me "Turn around, so we can see your back, and clasp your hands behind your neck so they don't hide your butt."
I did as I was told, and Rob exclaimed "Jesus! Those stripes...."
"Oh, they only show up more because his ass is so white compared to the tan on the rest of him."
"But they're all over his butt..."
"Of course. He was out working today, so I assume that this afternoon we really needed to 'encourage' him. I can see eight lines from here, and that would be about right to have kept him at peak form for an extra couple of hours - once you get one of those stinging across your butt, it focusses you and you keep going for fifteen or twenty minutes."
"But doesn't it hurt....?"
"Oh no - there's no permanent damage to the servant. Of course it hurts at the time, but that's the idea. But simple weals like that will be raised for a couple of days, then will fade. If you take a closer look you'll see a lot of fainter residual marks, and you can feel some of the more recent swellings, too...."
As he said this, Mike came over and I could feel both men really close behind me. Then a hand grazed itself over my left butt. "Feel this", I heard Mike say. "See, the little ridges under each red mark from today's beating. Now, probe with your fingers for the others...."
I winced as what I assume was Rob's fingers dug into my butt, prying and probing.
"Yes... I can feel it..."
"Well, after a week or so he'd be as good as new. So, as I said, no permanent harm. And if you feel his shoulders, particularly over the ends of the shoulder blades where there's less muscle, you can feel the fainter marks where the tawse has been - that tends to make the whole area inflamed, and a bit raised, but doesn't leave such definite marks."
I could now feel Rob's hands sliding over my back - I flinched as he did indeed feel my shoulders, but then it was somehow very sensual as he slid both hands down the side of my back, and allowed them to glide over my butt one more.
"So do you want to fuck him, like last time, Rob? Our Steve has learned a thing or two about fucking since you were last here...."
"You mean he's learned to take a dick....?"
"No, actually not. But he's learned how to give it! Steve's quite the 'top', and he's been up the ass of most of the other servants on the place."
"No, that can't be right - I'd always wanted to have sex with Steve, but I was always put off as he was so violently against guys doing it together. He was almost homophobic.... Steve can't have turned into someone who likes fucking guys..."
"Well he has, Rob. He's got quite a reputation. So would it be fun to top the top? Shall we have him on the horse again?"
I could reel Rob continuing to almost caress my butt with his hands, as he said quietly, almost as if he was ashamed of saying it, "No - but I would like to add to these stripes!"
End Of Part 9