Date: Sat, 13 Feb 2010 06:19:21 -0800 (PST) From: Thoby Andover Subject: Harnessed Bucks part 7 Copyright 2010 by the author The story contains hard-core bondage in a fantasy setting. Author's note: Keep sending it in. I pay attention to everybody. thobyandover@y7mail.com ***HARNESSED BUCKS*** Being an episode in which it is hoped that a traditional audience is regained and some peculiar details are discarded. PART THE SEVENTH The reader has waited patiently with much anticipation, and as I place this account upon parchment, I remember back to my tawse-whipping in the town square where I was suspended up-side-down, and it is my intention to leave out no detail, for the wise cadet will pursue any means at his disposal to avoid for himself what I describe. My legs were parted most widely and my bare ass was presented to the whipping man, and he did make the tawse whistle about his head, and this sound was a clean, singing harmonic, and the leather tail did fly with much speed. There was an almighty *CRACK* as he tested it with much strength, and this sound did drive birds into the air and did bring forth "oohs" and "ahs" from the crowd as they considered his skill. The tawse-whip was about twenty feet long, and its flat blade did swish about with a musical shriek as it was wielded. I heard comments from the crowd: "Hooooly shit!" "Yikes!" "Hey, boy! Get ready!" Then, the whip-master did pass some orders and advice to his fellow soldiers on the platform. "Stand well back." There was a short moment of stillness, and all I could hear was the creaking of the wooden posts which suspended my weight as I gently swayed by my ankles. The crowd was quiet. Then the tawse-whip whistled an evil tune. *CRACK!* I was blinded with white light, and I heard an unholy screech. "FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!" I did cry in utter surprise. At that moment, with my ass ablaze, I did believe that I possessed the certain knowledge that the whip-master would deliver me of one stroke only, and that my punishment was surely complete, for it was clearly impossible for any man to take more than one cut of the tawse on his ass. I couldn't take another. "FUUUUUUCK!!! FUUUUUUUCK!!! FUCK!!!" "Did that hurt?" someone asked from the crowd. The leather tail curled and rippled in the air and there was an inscrutable pause as time did become slowed down. The whip whistled *CRACK!* The second stroke was ten times worse, and my curses became intelligible. "Call out the number!" some members of the audience did advise me, but snot did dribble from my nose and tears from my eyes, and my world was a blurred mess. The whip whistled again. *CRACK!* A burning hellfire did light up my ass, and after I did howl like a banshee wail, I did collect myself to shout out to the whip-master. "SIR!!!...THREE!!!...SIR!!!" I blubbed. "Bzzzt! Wrong number, monkey-boy! Start the count at `one.'" "FUCK!!! FUCK!!! FUCK!!! FU...!" The whip whistled. KER - ***RACK!!!*** I howled again, and made to shout out; "SIR!!!...ONE!!!...SIR!!!" most strenuously, for I was most concerned that the whip-master do not miss my number, and that with every forthcoming stroke, he be informed with no ambiguity as to how many cuts had been delivered, for three whip-cuts had already been missed in my counting due to my negligence, and although these cuts were missed by me, they were not missed by my raging ass, and the leather blade of the tawse did land upon my hindquarters with high-speed and accuracy, and did make such a sharp sound that members of the crowd did wince most visibly, and these cuts did shake my flesh and I did swing back and forth between the poles on my pulleys, and when I swung forward I did call out my lamentations to the crowd who did look at me and hear me, and on one of my backward swings, the next cut did land. I heard the whip whistle, and by this time I did know that in the next moment, my backside would be delivered of another great-stinging blow, and at this time I was already shouting a rude curse before the whip did land. **KERR - - - RACK!!!** My howling was most loud, and I did seek to make it louder still, for the tawse-whipped man hanging suspended from the frame will know there is naught he can do but howl, and for some reason, howl he must, or perhaps the victim of the tawse whip does believe some person may come to his rescue upon hearing his shrieks. Also, he must shout the number so that each arriving stroke is deducted from the total, and the man is most keen to ensure this is so. "SIR!!!...TWO!!!...SIR!!!" At this juncture I had officially received two strokes -- in reality five, and I did make to beg in a loud voice that no further cuts be applied, for I did seek to ensure that the whip-master understand that the punishment thus far had been entirely suitable. The whip whistled. If I had counted out a total of three strokes, then that would have meant I had received, in actuality, six -- and at this sixth stroke I did sincerely believe I must die, for I did blubber and cry. But I counted out six, meaning, of course, there had been nine strokes, and six officially counted cuts of the tawse did seem to me a sufficient number at that point, but one was added, perhaps for luck, and then, perhaps, seven did seem an unlucky number, for the whip master did then proceed to twelve, and added to that were the three original cuts I had missed in my lamentably calculated counting, and four further cuts, missed somewhere along the way by me in my blubbering, making nineteen in total. And nineteen, evidently, was not a round figure, so the whip-master did thoughtfully add another, and between these strokes of the tawse there were odd pauses as the whip-master rested and the buck did swing, making me completely surprised every time the whip did whistle, for at many of these brief stops, I did believe my punishment to be over, and when I did hear the whip whistling toward my hindquarters again, I did call out in dismay before the leather blade landed, and this call was usually a sorrowful wail; "FUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!" as tears sprayed from my eyes, and I was cut short by the shocking *CRACK* as I felt the leather on my bare hide, and then this cry turned to a deeper; "HOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!" as air shot from my lungs. And then I must find breath again quickly in order that I call out the number of strokes accompanied by two "SIRs!!!" for the whip-master did seem to want to land the leather upon the dangling buck before the buck did have a chance to call out his number, and I, conversely, did want to beat the whip-master to this end, and once I had made the call, the tawse-wielding man did pause and rest, as I have said. Between each wicked whip-cut, my ears did roar and I did hear nothing else, even though I did see the lips of the spectators move, and their expressions were often happy at the entertainment provided them, and sometimes surprised as I called out my loud grief and my counting. There were none more surprised than I, for I did believe it not possible for a man to wield a twenty-foot whip and land it on the swinging ass of a criminal and make that backside so stinging sore with every stroke, and every stroke was worse than the last, and as the whipping did proceed, my yelling did advance in this knowledge. In my momentum of bellowing, I did pursue a means of reasoning with the wielder of the whip, for I did try to convince him through my words that a further cut be not necessary and that my improvement through punishment was saturated already, and with each cut, I did desperately invent a new convincing sentence which may convert him to this knowledge. And in doing this, I did firstly not neglect to inform him of the number of cuts delivered already, excepting those wretched occasions where my weeping did take my voice and a certain stroke not be counted by me, and thusly must be delivered again. Thusly, I did say; "SIR!!! TEN!!! SIR!!!...SIR!!! I'VE HAD ENOUGH AND I WON'T DO IT AGAIN!!! AND YOUR WHIPPED PRISONER IS MOST ANXIOUS TO DELAY FURTHER APPLICATION OF YOUR SKILLS MOST GRATEFULLY RECEIVED!!!" And I did say this with much force and as sincerely as my snot-ridden face and watery eyes would allow Also, I did say; "SIR!!! TWELVE!!! SIR!!! YOUR GOOD, KIND SIR HAS ADMINISTERED A COMPLETE PUNISHMENT!!! AND THIS IS CLEAR TO EVERYBODY BY THE NUMBER TWELVE!!! AND TWELVE IS A VERY GOOD NUMBER!!! AND YOUR GOOD, KIND-HEARTED SIR WILL FIND THE NUMBER TWELVE TO BE IDEAL!!! FUCK!!! PLEASE!!! **FUCK!!!**" And my very personal and very honest dialogue to the Sir was interrupted by further dispensation on his part. Also, the reader will know that the number ten and the number twelve are displaced by the number eleven, and this number also coincided with a heartily consigned thunderclap of leather upon bare rump-flesh, and during this occasion, I did make similar applications. I became very concerned with these numbers, and at one juncture I did exclaim; "SIR!!! SIXTEEN!!! SIR!!! SIR!!! PLEASE!!! STOP!!! FUCK!!! STOP!!! PLEASE!!!" In a similar fashion I did provide commentary upon the remaining strokes, and the pulleys and ropes did rattle and the flaying leather did find its every mark, and I did most solemnly wish to be delivered to the paradise of the man-yoke, described in some other chapter, where my cock be loaded into this punishment device and I may drink-in this bliss and rapture for forty-eight hours, so that I may be rewarded for never, ever again displeasing a Corsair general, commander, soldier, or citizen, and I did voice these disconnected opinions between the sixteenth and seventeenth strokes of the tawse whip. At the nineteenth stroke, I did beg to be consigned to a dungeon cell or to pull a plough or haul a pack of shit in high-heels in preference to receiving one more cut. The final, twentieth cut did arrive upon a man-rump grievously considering the terrible crimes performed by its owner, and this rump did consider it an essential thing to prevent the man from performing these crimes again, or any like it, and the rump did make a most solemn vow to prevent this man from ever returning to his villainous ways. And the quivering, blooded rump of tenderised flesh did find the final tawse-cut to be a thing both celebrated and bemoaned, for the reader will understand both its earnest want not to have an unpleasant thing repeated, and its desire also to have that unpleasant thing as the last in a wholly unpleasant series of twenty unpleasant things. I had experienced twenty unpleasant things, and with each thing, the unpleasantness did grow and grow, and as the final, twentieth unpleasant thing is described, the reader will become aware of the abstract method I have recently employed to depict these things, such is my determination to communicate to the reader the full unpleasantness of these things, and such is my grave duty to influence the reader to avoid at all costs a whipping with a twenty-foot tawse. And as we return from the abstract and figurative to the wooden platform in the public square with the suspended, up-side-down buck, the reader may be pleased to continue this narrative of events. The show was not over, for the whip-master must be rewarded and thanked for his efforts, and these thanks and rewards it was my responsibility to convey, and so he did grasp firmly the raggedly knifed hair on my head and he pulled me backwards so that I arched up-side-down from my confined ankles to my neck, and I did see behind me, and if the reader will think carefully about my physical position, he will picture my neck bent sharply back and my arms confined behind my neck and my head looking directly at the tawse-master's leather pants, and I did gladly take this large man's cock in my mouth, for I was pleased to suck him rather than receive more cuts from the whip. And I did suck most attentively and industriously, for I was most grateful indeed for my whipping being over, and I did want to suck and suck as long as the evil tawse was put aside, and this man did tell me exactly how to suck, and I did lick and slobber upon his extended prong and taste his tangy cheese. At first, I licked along his shaft and was pleased to see it become stiff and upright, and I worked the ropey skin of its underside with my tongue. Its head filled my mouth and I gaped and mawed to take it, and he kindly helped me in this endeavour by fuck-thrusting as he held my head by my hair just so. The considerable meat was forced into my throat, and it did come directly into my gullet with gushing spurts which I knew I must swallow. When this task was completed, he did zip himself, satisfied, and I did swing back to see the dispersing people at the front of the platform as his thick man-juices did dribble from my lips and my nose. I licked it from my face as best I could, for I am a clever young fellow and did deduce that any gobs of man-stuff landing upon the platform would mean some remorseful circumstances for me. It did taste muchly of salt, and chewy balls of it did form a glue in my mouth which I did swallow as best I could in my up-side-down disposition, and a thick rope of it did suspend from my upper lip down toward the wooden stage, and I did draw and suck on this leaking cream much as one does suck upon a noodle, and I was successful in pulling this white cord fully into my mouth, and this action resulted in smiles and some cheers from the crowd. I was let down from the poles, and I did howl anew as my burned butt did land upon the stage, and I struggled to jump up, and I could feel that I would little care to sit down with my butt upon any surface for at least two weeks. Let the reader beware of a tawse-whipping in a Corsair public park. He will sorely regret one stroke. A second stroke will blank his mind in white-hot pain. Three strokes would seem to correct the most hardened thug, and four strokes is a punishment for the recidivist cattle-thief. Six strokes should be very rarely given. I did receive a full twenty strokes, and to this day, I do shudder when I see black leather, and I do sometimes hear the wicked *CRACK* in my dreams and wake crying-out, with my hands desperately upon my rump-cheeks. My ass did hurt grievously as I ran away from the platform and it did burn with a hellish fire, and I was put into an iron cage in a public place so that all who see me may be warned by my pathetic circumstances not to commit a crime and become like I -- an unhappy lad, naked and sorely whipped and confined so that I may neither stand up nor lie down. I was most uncomfortable in this cage, for my wrists were still confined and my rump was afire with red-hot coals and this part of my body did firstly cause me the most concern. I did try to adjust my position so that I may find some way to reduce the pain in my raw ass. In this cage, a man may find that his best selection is to kneel, but when I did this, my ass did touch my heels and I winced and gritted my teeth and did decide to move to a new posture. And so I did crouch, but again, my ass did find this intolerable and did protest to me with renewed gusto. Eventually, I simply stood and bent over, for the roof of the cage did prevent me from standing erect, and perhaps this was its design, for bent over this way, I did conveniently present my bare ass to passers-by, so they may see how it was whipped and understand why I was there and why my butt was presented so. Another part of me was also prevented from standing erect, and this was my cock, for it was ringed through and tied off to the hairs about my man parts, which were knotted into a cord. Despite my blazing rump and the concern this did cause me, my penis did strangely attempt to become erect, and it did jerk and twitch, and when this did happen, it pulled against its ring and cause itself some ouch and hurt. My cruelly tethered schlong did have some of my sympathy, due to the silver ring which had been pushed through its sensitive head, but my schlong did not seem to be an organism capable of learning its lesson, for it did continue to strain at its tether. The leashed bull does eventually learn not to pull against the ring through its nose, but my similarly ringed man-part was not this clever, and it did persist in its tugging. As well as the hurt caused by the piercing ring, my cock did also suffer from an emotional sentiment, for it did earnestly wish to become erect and was prevented from doing so, and was continually pulled downwards, and this did make me whimper and bleat, and I did surmise that my balls were full of spunk and they did actively encourage my cock to erect itself. After some time, I did wonder how my cock may expel my spunk, for it was obvious to me that I needed to do this, for it is among the urgent requirements of a fit younker such as myself that this deed be performed regularly and as soon as possible after the necessity becomes apparent. I did moan softly and offer condolences to my poor, restrained cock, for I did feel my weighted balls make their demand, and an athletic young buck will wish to spurt his spunk any way he can, such is the vital need of his overloaded balls. I did become like a desperate puppy, and did whinge and snivel in my distress, and persons seeing me in my cage did no doubt think that my whining and sobbing was because of my severe ass-whipping, but this was not so, and I would have born the stinging sweat on my blazing ass cheeks with little complaint had I been allowed to eject my heavy load through a properly upstanding spout. Presently, one of the persons coming by did appear to me, and this person was the young lad of about my own age who was the hair-dresser and who had appeared to me on previous occasions and who, the reader will remember, was my love-interest. This lad was the one who had made it possible for my ringed cock to be tethered down to my twisted pubic-hair, and as my cock did jerk and strain, it did little know that it wasn't really his fault, for he had been told to perform his hair-dressing in no uncertain terms by Corsair bullies, and no doubt the lad was unfamiliar with the braiding and trussing of a young buck's pubes into a pony-tail and the knotting of such pubes to the buck's ringed penis. The lad saw my distress, and I did waste little time in telling him to use his penknife in cutting the cock-tether which he had aided in constructing, for my man-meat did wish to be released, and those readers who will remember their youth will also remember the tension and pressure of sexual energy applied during that time of life -- if they are male -- and if they are female, I do wish they were not reading this at all, for I was naked in public in a cage and my schlong was convulsing in its sorrow. The pretty lad did refuse to help my cock, for he said that if my ringed man-part be cut from its cruel leash, then I may be severely punished, and my burning ass and the previous account of my whipping made this possibility a thing to be avoided, and I knew what he said to be true. Nevertheless, I did moan and whimper and complain in most earnest terms, and I told the lad that my flayed, razing ass did cause me much distress, but the distress caused to me by my swelling cock was a thing which he could relieve with a penknife, and I did incautiously beg him to cut my pubes so that I may spurt and come. He said that this was not entirely true, for he did have in his hand a lump of salving cream which he proposed be applied to my ass, and he did reach through the cage to do so, and with much care and gentleness, he did wipe my ass with this salve. Upon this, I did cry and bawl -- not so much because the touching of my reddened cheeks was a very painful thing -- but because I was bent over in a cage in a public place, naked, with a pretty lad rubbing my butt, and people did gather to see this, and my destitute male-organ was in view, arching and bending and pulled over by its ring and tether. His tender hand did slide between my buttocks and he did probe my hole, and he did announce that he would attempt to lighten my loaded balls by a particular method. A finger went in, and I did feel it wiggling in my rear-canal and I did make certain high-pitched noises in my wonderment, for his finger was a most dexterous instrument and he did use it with much proficiency, and my inner parts were manipulated in such a manner that I did see stars before my eyes and was unconscious of the puppy-squeaks emitted from my mouth. Eventually, the boy's finger did find that part of me which is connected somehow to my come, and a scientist may explain how this pressure-button does excite a young lad and make his juices flow, and this button was squeezed, and I did feel a jolting sensation. The reader will know of the pleasurable sensations which are attached to having his cock placed somewhere which makes it hard and which causes him to come. The reader may also be aware of the strange sensations which occur when his cock does become hard of its own accord and expel its juice spontaneously and out of order, pumping and rocking and causing its owner some surprise, such as when a specific dream occurs or when its owner sees a woman's exposed suspender belt. And when this happens, as is the case with boys and young men, the express does cause some disappointment, for the young buck did wish to contain his come until such time as he may shoot it effectively, perhaps by stroking his erect penis with his hand and pleasuring himself as he knows how, and his disobedient cock which shoots its white load in an inopportune moment is physically distressing and perhaps embarrassing -- like the time my cock did swell against my shorts in the presence of Sergeant McBevan as I stood to attention in his office, and Sergeant McBevan -- who's appearance was such that I felt melted and gooey whenever I did see him -- was able to view with upmost clarity my gobs of come as they wetted my shorts and dripped down my legs onto the floor, and on that occasion I did groan in misery. The reader may now imagine that the lad with his finger up my ass did posses a certain skill which made my reservoir empty itself in this way, and this was done without erecting my penis, and I did groan in a similar way. The lad did squeeze and press and make sure my inner parts were fully operated, and a white flood did ensue. My rivers did open and I did piss a stream of white come, and I found this to be a strange thing, for my cock did not erect and the boy did wiggle his finger in my ass and cause these things to happen, and I did complain about these strange circumstances, for the healthy young buck will wish his ejaculation to be an occurrence entered into with full enthusiasm and energy with upstanding cock, and it is a very frustrating thing for him to see his hot man-load ejected with no concurrent excitement. I did twist and wriggle in my cage, and my raw-whipped ass did feel greatly the tender hand which was upon it, and this hand did push in a certain quarter which I did find most unusual, and looking back, I surmise, as the reader may, that the young man with charged balls may be unloaded in a variety of ways. The finger did wiggle and rub against my inner bulb and I did weep with distress, for my cock was unable to erect nor project fully, and it did instead spew meekly, bent over and ringed to my pubes, and I did resentfully wish that it may become straight and rigid and fully stiff as a young man may want it. Thick gobs of my white stuff did drip to the dust and Corsair soldiers did laugh at me. I did curse my luck and did announce quite loudly my hope that all this may happen to the laughing soldiers -- that they may be stringed up and whipped and have their cocks pierced and tethered and be displayed in a public cage and be milked by a boy with his finger up their ass. I was covered in sweat and dust and my flayed ass did hurt most grievously, and as I stood bent over in the iron cage, I did present my ass to a passing troop of boy-scouts who were much interested in my bared behind. The scout-master did comment upon it, telling his boys that this was the whipped ass of a captured buck and that the naked criminal in the cage was a creature worthy only of contempt. Along came the tribe of emo-kids who did fasten upon the notion that the caged animal was something to be spat upon, and the young ladies of the Corsair School of Refined Upbringing did arrive, turning up their noses and positioning their parasols strategically between their cultivated faces and the wretched being in the public cage -- and here too was a particular fellow in striped trousers who may as well have been Dirk Bogarde in `Death in Venice,' if you know what I mean, and who did look at me most intently and I particularly did get the feeling that this fellow did not care that my ass had been whipped with a tawse and did simply wish to look at it, whipped or not, as it was presented upturned and in public, and at this point I did consider my disposition most carefully and did wish I was a small mouse who may disappear into a hole instead of a naked buck in a cage, with an ass severely whipped. I did stay in my cage until nightfall, and several kind people did come to feed me and give me water. They had to push the food between the bars and into my mouth, for my hands were still shackled behind my head, and in this way I was given scraps of bread, and an emo-boy who was full of popcorn and who did have some left over did place his popped kernels, one at a time, on the palm of his hand before me, and I did munch upon these most greedily. Also, the comely lad with whom the diligent reader will be already familiar and who had earlier milked my prostate, and who really should have been given a name by now -- let's say... `Troy,' did offer me his lips, and we did kiss with much sucking and biting, and through the bars of the cage I did profess my fervent wish that we may fuck together, man to man, and Troy did pull down his trews and wank before me, tugging his cock with his hand, and while he did this he did look to me with a most intent expression and pull his organ with much vigour, and he did express the opinion that I should be free to fuck him, which I was not. The reader will form the impression of having déjà vue all over again, for I am sure something like this has been previously committed to parchment but I just can't be bothered going back to read over it and what the fuck, who cares anyway, except that reader who will send in a special letter pointing out that while I am in the cage being wanked over, I cannot actually know that sometime later, I will be writing this parchment, and this is a continuity error which I cannot account for, and to this particular reader I am very grateful for him pointing this out, and I am most surprised that someone reads over this with such careful study, and I hope that this current episode meets with some measure of approval despite its strange discourse -- and in the next chapter I will again be pegged into the cock-yoke which seemed to be so popular and there will be all that stuff with the pine-needles and butterfly collection which somebody asked for and explained in explicit detail and which is rather quite good. And in the chapter after that -- I will think up something to do with galley-slaves -- sorry for keeping everybody waiting -- but hey, you think it's easy being captured by the Corsairs? Thoby Andover thobyandover@y7mail.com