Date: Mon, 2 May 2005 13:43:43 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Labourer, Part 6

THE LABOURER  by Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories in
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part 6

Mike called to Sean to keep his prod at the ready,
then snapped at me to go over to the corner of the
room.  Standing there was one of the "horses" that you
see around - I'd never been much interested in that
sort of stuff, but when I'd been in one of the big
home stores getting a few things for my place, I
suppose I'd noticed the displays of them that were in
the "household and servants" section, along with the
bookcases, tables, chairs and other stuff that these
places now went in for.  I guess that if I'd thought
about it much I'd have seen that there was more to
this indentured servant business than at first met the
eye - the fact that these big warehouses bothered to
stock a range of "horses" ought to have triggered at
least a thought that perhaps servants got punished - I
mean, you wouldn't stock and sell these things if
people didn't buy them, and people presumably wouldn't
buy them unless they had a use for them, would they?

This was one of the "de luxe" models, I'd guess:  not
just cheap steel and plastic that you could fold away
and hang up in the garage, but a proper piece of
furniture.  The legs were nicely shaped and the walnut
they were made of was brightly polished, and the top
was covered in that kind of expensive black leather
that glows dully as much from the fineness of the
grain as from any polish that's been used on it.  You
could also tell that it must have cost a lot of money
as there were various adjustment mechanisms on it and
these were all made out of quality brass, as far as I
could see.

These bastards, I thought to myself, they're going to
put me on this punishment horse and cane me - and I
haven't even done anything wrong, and I'm not working
so there's no excuse for driving me to give my all.
"Get on the horse, Steve", Mike said calmly.

"Please, Mike.... I haven't done anything yet...."

"You just did, anyway, Steve!  Remember what I said
about proper respect for your indenture owner?  I
warned you about familiarity - I was Mike when we were
drinking together, but now I own your contract.  You
just don't listen, do you?  Or  if you do listen, you
don't learn!  Well, we have ways of making unruly guys
like you really toe the line.... As you'll find out.
Now, get on the fucking horse, before you make your
position any worse!"

I looked at the black top of the thing in front of me,
and wondered what I was supposed to do.  As I've said,
I'd never taken any notice of stuff like this before,
and when you see something that looks like an
overgrown sawhorse, only with a wider top, it's not
immediately clear, is it?

"Lie on it, you idiot!".  Mike's tone suggested now
that he was losing his temper.  "Lie on it, on your
belly, with your chin in the chin support at the front
and your feet on the ground!  You've got a lot to
learn, I can tell."

"Please, M... Sir!  I haven't done anything..."

"Shut the fuck up!  I don't care what you have or
haven't done.  You're my servant, and when I tell you
to do something, you do it.  Now get on that horse!"

Out of the corner of my eye  I could see Sean holding
his prod at the ready, and he looked as if he was
eager to use it on me.  I remembered the agony of the
thing as it touched my bare skin, and decided that
obeying Mike was the easiest thing to do!  I stood at
the ened of the horse, and lowered myself on to it - I
can remember now, all this time later, that first time
I felt the cool clamminess of the finely grained
leather against my belly and my chest as I let my body
down in a perfectly controlled way.   And the chin
support neatly allowed me to keep my head straight and
my eyes down as I didn't have to turn my head to one
side.  I shuffled my feet on the floor, feeling my
dick and balls hanging down freely as the top of the
horse stopped just below my navel.

Mike came over, said "Hands down at the sides,
Steve....", then knelt down and fixed my wrists into
the straps on the front legs - the fine leather was
lined with Velcro, so it was easy to do and took only
seconds.  I wriggled my wrists around as I wasn't used
to being restrained at all, and Mike saw me.

"Never done anything like this before, then?  Not even
in fun?"

"No, of course not...."

"No 'of course' about it, Steve!  Some guys like being
restrained.  Don't worry about it - the leather's nice
and soft, so you can pull as hard as you like at it
and it won't injure you - I need you to work, not lie
around all day with bandages on your wrists!  Now,
spread those legs...."

As he said this, Mike's leather shoes kicked at the
inside of my ankles - not enough to damage them, but
there was that sharp shock as something hard hits your
ankle bone, as it does sometimes on the football
field.  I winced, and shuffled my legs apart almost
automatically.  Then Mike was tugging at my ankles,
positioning them by the rear legs of the horse, and
fastening them with more leather cuffs.

"I've used the cuffs on short chains", he said
conversationally to Rob, "so that he has a bit of
movement in the legs.  And I'm not going to use the
belly strap, either.  Is that OK with you?"

"I guess so....", Rob answered, a touch of uncertainty
in his voice.

"You've not done this before, have you?"

"No, Mike.  You know... I never got around to doing it
with a guy, and all the girls at college were always
eager...."

Mike laughed gently.  "I guess you'll need a bit of
help, then.  And some privacy.... Sean, he's safely
tied down now, so you can leave us.  I'll call you
when we're ready to have him taken off to the
barracks."

"Sure, Mike.", Sean replied, and Mike continued "So,
Rob, a first time for both you and Steve!  Well, let
me explain.... With the ankles having some movement,
as Steve has....."

I yelped in surprise, and my body tried to jerk right
of the horse, at the sheer unexpectedness of a hard
slap from Mike, with his open palm on my bare butt!

"As you can see", Mike continued, "He has some
movement with the loose leg restraints, and without
the belly strap.  In the trade we call it restraining
the servant as a 'buckaroo' - I think it's an
Australian term, coming from kangaroos or something,
meaning they can jump around.  The other way of doing
it is to hold his ankles rigidly to the rear legs, in
the same way as his wrists are rigidly on the front
legs, and use the big strap around his belly, cinched
really tight, to make him almost totally immobile.  It
depends on what you want to do - totally immobile, the
servant knows he's under total restraint, completely
in your power, and he can't do anything to mitigate in
any way what you're going to do him.  But as a
buckaroo, it's more interesting - in practice, of
course, the servant is still under total restraint and
can't prevent you doing what ever you like, but
because his body has some movement, his reflexes and
his brain will try to stop you doing what you want -
he'll twist, writhe, buck and generally squirm in a
futile attempt to evade what's coming to him."

"Overall", he continued, "buckaroo is best -
afterwards, the servant has more of a feeling of your
total power over him:  in spite of all his efforts, he
wasn't able to evade you.  Rigid restraint is easier
from the point of view of actually doing whatever you
want, and it has the same physical effect on the
servant, but there's that little bit of psychology
missing:  some part of his brain is telling him he was
powerless, that there was nothing he could do about
it, and so he doesn't have that feeling of having
submitted totally to you in spite of all his efforts.
But as this is your first time, perhaps I should
tighten him up...."

"You say a buckaroo jumps and thrashes and
wriggles...."

"Yes, Rob.  That's why, for your first time, it might
be better to have him held rigid...."

"No, Mike!  Leave him!  Between you and me, I'm tired
of a lack of response.... All my Karen ever does is
just lie there like a lump of meat!"

"Hey, Rob - I can see you're a fun guy!  I'd kind of
had you marked down as a really boring lawyer type -
if you like this kind of thing, we'll have to do it
again.  Now, come and stand over here.... And let's
lose our pants...."

I heard that unmistakable sound of rustling cloth and
the "clink" as belt buckles hit the floor, and then
felt fabric brushing against my butt.  "You're not
embarrassed, are you, Rob?"

"Hell no, Mike!  I'm used to guys seeing me in my
boxers - I still go to the gym, you know."

"Well lose those, too - I need to adjust the height of
the horse for maximum convenience - there's no point
in you having to struggle and be uncomfortable when I
have one of these deluxe models."

I felt something brush up against my thighs - another
guy!  It was Rob's hairy legs.  I stated to shout "No,
Rob, don't.... Don't be so fucking stupid...."

Mike was doing something to one of the wheels on the
side of the horse and it moved slightly so that my
head was lowered.  Calmly he was saying to Rob "There
- with his butt more in the air, it makes a better
angle.... Any time you're ready...."

Rob's body pushed against mine, and I could feel his
dick nudging at my butt!  Well, I assume it was his
dick - I couldn't  see, and I had no experience, but
it was hot, and rigid.  I began to try to get away, to
move my legs, buck up and down as far a s I could
within the limits of my wrists being held and my
ankles chained - I was aware of my body flopping up
and down on the leather of the horse as I impotently
tried to escape.  I heard myself scream "No, you
fucker, no!  Don't Rob, Please.... You dirty fucker;
you utter cunt; Jesus fucking Christ, Rob; you...."

Mike pushed my head roughly to the side, and gripped
my nose.  I had to stop shouting as my air was cut
off, and as I opened my mouth, Mike stuffed a
handkerchief in it - I remember noticing that it was a
silk one, probably very expensive.  I couldn't force
it out with my tongue, and all I could now do was give
choked sounds as I carried on screaming.

"There, that's better", Mike told Rob.  "Personally, I
like to hear the guy shout and moan a bit, as it
show's he's experiencing it properly and it makes it a
more exciting experience for you.  But the first time,
especially for someone like Steve who's a bit wild and
has never shown any form of restraint or self
discipline before.... well, all that cursing is too
much.  There's a difference between the cries of pain
and outrage you might expect, and sheer nasty swearing
like that."

Rob's dick - as that's what it must be - was now
forcing my butt cheeks apart.  He seemed to be really
struggling, and then I felt his hands (hot and sweaty)
on my butt, prising my muscles apart.  And then I
almost shot in the air as a totally new sensation,
something I'd never experienced before, struck me - he
was moving his dick head up and down in my ass crack,
all the time forcing himself towards me, and resting
the front of his thighs against mine.  Going along
with that strangely ticklish sensation of a disk head
scraping your ass, there was that other one of his
sweat-soaked hairy thighs brushing against mine:  I
could almost feel the hairs sliding over each other.
Now I know that this is one of those great feelings
that you can have - another guy's thighs pressed so
close to yours - you really experience the heat, and
the power of having a guy so intimately close to you,
more so than when your torsos are together, I think,
but then, that's just my opinion. But this first time
it was different, I was still trying to get to
understand what was happening when it stopped - I had
that odd sensation in my gut as all my muscles
tightened as Rob's dick head was directly over my ass
hole.

"No", I tried to scream again, but the gag stopped me,
and instead I could just feel sweat pouring off me,
the veins in my temples throbbing with the anger and
shame I was feeling, and my lungs straining as they
fought to get enough air to keep my body trying
desperately to move, and my voice to continue
attempting to make itself heard.

Rob seemed to be having trouble, as I'd clamped my ass
shut to stop him getting in, but all the time I could
feel the pressure of his dick increasing inexorably as
it forced itself against my hole, and he seemed to be
resting his whole weight against my thighs and my butt
. "Come on, you fucker!  Open up, Steve...", he
hissed, and I resisted all the more.

But it's no use, is it?  Once you're pinned under a
guy, especially when you can't hit out with your arms
or kick with your legs, it's effectively all over.
You're only really arguing about "when" and not "if",
that dick is finally going to enter you.  I suddenly
felt it get past - and I really did feel it - I let
out a huge scream (muffled), and carried on, my throat
going hoarse, as Rob pushed himself all the way in.
He stopped then, and I'm sure I could feel his wiry
pubic hair pressed hard against my butt - or was it
just my imagination?   I think he must have been
breathing just as hard as  I was - I'd been doing a
lot more "work", trying to thrash around and stop him,
but he was a lot less fit than I was.  I could hear
his breath rasping as he stood there, pressed against
me, and then he started to fuck me.

It was a classic, I suppose.  You know the sort of
thing - starting slowly, pulling his dick out almost
to the full extent, then sliding it in slowly again,
as if he was afraid something might break, or he might
hurt me too much.   But then his excitement and his
confidence began to build, and soon he was doing that
classic combination of a few short, fast, hard
thrusts, followed by a complete change of tempo as he
pulled in and out slowly, almost luxuriantly.

I don't know which was worse - being fucked at all, or
being fucked by my oldest buddy.  How could he be
doing this to me?  We'd been at school together, drank
in bars all the time, talked about the women we'd
fucked.  I'd been at his wedding.... everything.  And
now here I was, tied down, with his dick ravishing me
just as if I was some rent boy he'd picked up down
south of Main street!  Although I was still shouting
my rage, and my pain, somewhere inside me I knew it
was going to end, and that one day, one day soon, I
would have revenge.  I gritted my teeth as best I
could, and struggled to take control of my body - I
am, after all, an athlete and I ought to be able to
take charge of my muscles.  Deliberately I stopped
myself from thrashing around.  I forced myself to stop
shouting as it was wasting my breath.  I made my
breathing slow.  I stopped my feet from shuffling
around uselessly on the floor.  I just lay there,
still, and took the pounding up my ass that he was
giving me.

Rob went through a sudden phase of fast, medium-length
trusts, all the time panting and gasping, then he gave
a great shout "Oh, sweet Jesus and the fucking
Virgin... Fuck.... Yes......", and his pubic bone
slammed into my ass one last time.  He stayed there,
his dick buried in me as deep as it would go, but is
body fell forward on to mine.  He gripped my shoulders
with his sweaty hands, and I could feel his hot breath
covering the nape of my neck, and his whole soaked
body lying the length of mine.  The pounding of his
heart and the rasp of his chest hair against my back
all came through to me as I was conscious of his
weight lying all along me.  I found myself almost
whimpering - the pain, yes, but the shame, too, and
the anger.  I like to think it was just sweat from my
forehead that was making a tiny rivulet down the side
of my face, but, if I'm honest, it was tears, too.
Look, I know a guys isn't supposed to cry;  and  I
certainly wouldn't have wanted to give Rob the
satisfaction of knowing that he'd done that to me.
But it was just all so totally overwhelming, I
couldn't help it:  not the pain, so much as that
dreadful feeling that  I was no longer a proper man,
that I'd been violated, brutally violated, and my
manhood was gone.

I don't know how long we stayed like that - it seemed
to be hours, but it was probably no more than a couple
of minutes.  Then Rob pulled his dick out of me, and
stood up.

"Wow!", he said, to no one in particular.

"Pretty good for a first time....", I heard Mike
congratulate him, almost laughing.  "I enjoyed that -
seeing Steve thrash around like a demented thing, and
his anger.... It makes for a real show.  And you're
pretty good -  you're still in fair shape, too, and
that always makes it more enjoyable for a spectator:
no one likes to see a big flabby ass, but your butt's
still good and taut and when you were pounding away,
it was a great show."

"Here....", he went on.  "Clean yourself up on
this....  We can have a shower later before you go
home to that wife of yours - it wouldn't do to get
into her bed stinking of cum and Steve's shit, would
it?"

"Fucking right!", Rob replied, with that smile in his
voice with which I was so familiar, and which I had
usually only heard when we'd been having a good laugh
together about something or other.  "That's the best
fuck I've had for years.  My wife's like a lump of
dead meat, as I said, but the way Steve's ass gripped
me, and all the movement: a real buckaroo, I guess
you'd say - fucking amazing!"

"My turn now, though!  I don't usually like sloppy
seconds - but as Steve is still nicely warmed up from
you, it  may still be pretty good....."

I heard Mike's boxers fall to the floor, and then I
jerked and started thrashing and screaming again as he
began to slap my butt - hard.  And a guy can hit your
butt very hard, as you probably know, when he uses his
arm outstretched, and he doesn't care about whether
he's hurting you at all, and isn't playing some sex
game.  Above the sounds of the slaps I heard him
gasping out to Rob "This is always good, too - it
shows the boy that you're really in control of him.
Tanning his butt like this when he can't stop you is
very satisfying - not only are you totally controlling
his body, but you're preparing him for your dick:  his
butt will be so tender that as you slam into him when
you're fucking, he'll get a whole new set of
sensations and he'll react so much more vigorously to
you.  I'd always recommend giving a butt a good hiding
before you fuck it."

He stopped then, and I felt him pulling my poor,
battered, smarting butt cheeks apart.  I thought they
must be glowing almost red from the hiding they'd
taken, and far from it being a "warm glow" suffusing
me, it was fucking painful!  He didn't waste time
playing around with his dick up my crack as Rob had
done, but positioned himself right at my hole
immediately and thrust brutally in.  I suppose I was
ready for it, or at least my hole was stretched or
something as it didn't hurt quite so much, although it
did make me give a great cry of agony.  And I could
just about bear to stand there and take it as he
thrust mechanically and rhythmically away in and out
of me - almost no variation of pace or anything it was
almost as if it was a purely mechanical process and
not something sexual at all.

It didn't take long for him to cum, though, and as
soon as he had he pulled out of me, and I could see
him out of the corner of my eye wiping his dick and
his groin on a towel.  "That's the problem with going
second", he told Rob.  "Not only is the boy loose so
he doesn't grip as well, but you get splattered with
all the cum and shit and stuff that's still up there.
And I like a real buckaroo, too - that was just a
little bit passive for me:  it's one of the advantages
of being a contractor and having a lot of indentures
that you get to break a lot of virgins, and they are
usually just as spirited as Steve the first time.
Still - fancy that shower now?"

I went to say "yes", as I could feel a horrible
trickle of something warm and wet running down the
inside of my thighs, and just knew that my legs were
getting covered in shit and cum.  I tried to clamp my
ass shut to stop it, but it didn't seem to be working.
  But the gag prevented any sensible words  from
coming out, and anyway, I realised that Mike had been
addressing Rob, not me.

"Sure!  I always like a good shower after a hard
workout!  But what about Steve?"

"Oh, now he's been 'broken' he can go off and join the
other servants in the barracks.  I'll send Sean in to
see to him.

"Aren't you worried he might run away, escape?  I
think this evening's been pretty traumatic for him....
 And he's always very headstrong anyway.  After this,
he might do a runner...."

"No, not really.  Some of them do try it, but they all
get caught sooner or later.  They've got no money, no
credit cards... And they can't get any:  as soon as
they try to work, an employer has to run fingerprint
checks now with the Department Of Homeland Security
and then he'd be shown up as an escaped indentured
servant.  They're soon traced, and returned here -
half starved, most of them!"

"But isn't it a lot of trouble for you?"

"No, one call to report him gone, and the government
does the rest - all his fingerprints and stuff are on
file now.  And it almost does me a favour...."

"Why, Mike?"

"Well it kind of 'encourages' the others - I always
have an escaped servant whipped.  Properly whipped,
that is, with a bull whip.  I bring in a professional
whipper, make a bit of an occasion of it - give the
others a couple of hours off, have them lined up,
erect a cross to tie the escapee to...  A bit of
theatre never hurts.  And then they all see just what
happens to an escapee - those bull whips aren't like
tawses or canes, you know:  every stroke tears into
the flesh and the blood flies.  After twelve strokes
the guy's half dead, and  after twenty, which is when
I stop as I don't want to kill a valuable asset, he
can't even stand when he's cut down from the cross.
It takes at least a week before he can even start to
work, and after a month he's still in dreadful pain
from the scars.  It really teaches the others a
lesson, I'll tell you.  So if Steve runs, I lose out
on a month's work, but I more than make it up from
that little 'extra willingness' all the others show
whenever they see his tattered body."

"Come on", Mike continued.  "I've got a nice double
shower - and after exercise like we've just had, we
deserve a bit of relaxation.... Just leave Steve here
and Sean will do the rest."

The two of them went out, arms around each others
shoulders, still talking, and I was left there lying
on the horse, now starting to feel slightly chilly as
all the sweat evaporated off me.  There was nothing  I
could do about  it, though, so I just had to lie
there, and sooner or later Sean came back in to the
room.  He came over and gently tugged the handkerchief
out of my mouth.

"Tough, was it?", he asked, as if he was just speaking
about some piece of work on the site, and not my rape!
 "Mister Rooney usually likes to gag the guys the
first time."

I ran my tongue around my mouth, clearing it, and
coughed a bit.  "Please, is it always like this?"

"Yes.  Mister Rooney likes to 'break' the new guys,
take their cherries.  Mind you, most of them have
already been fucked into the ground before - most
indentured servants are criminals, and they lose it
whilst waiting for trial, or before they're selected
to become indentured servants.  You're a bit of an
exception - and having your buddy along, too...
Still, let's get on - if you're still here when
they've finished showering - although that could take
a long time, as they've got young Joey in with them,
and he's always fun to have in the shower with you as
he's really inventive - I'll be in trouble for not
keeping the servants busy, and you might get fucked
again!"

He bent down to start to undo my cuffs, and as my
first wrist came free, I started to stretch it
angrily.

"Now, Steve, you're not going to be a bad boy, are
you?  Look, we can do this two ways - either I can let
you free and you can behave sensibly and we can get on
and get you cleaned up and into bed, as we start early
in the mornings here, as you know.  Or you can start
to throw yourself around again, act the big tough
macho man who's out for revenge -  in which case I'll
go and get some of the other boys to subdue you, then
I'll punish you, and we'll carry on until you do start
to behave sensibly.  But I suspect that your ass has
had enough punishment for one day, and so your best
bet would be to co-operate...."

He was right, of course.  So I just lay there, almost
supine, as he undid the rest of my shackles, and then
stood up calmly and waited, still feeling the cum and
shit trickling down the insides of my legs.

"Come on then, Steve", Sean said.  "You do need a
shower!  And I guarantee you'll sleep tonight!"

End Of Part 6