Date: Mon, 5 Dec 2005 22:25:06 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Steve Grows Up, Part Seven

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