ON THE BUILDING SITE
As we drove along Jeff explained that he had been building new homes on parcels of land for a long time, and normally these were bought by the locals and, as there was not a lot of money in Arkansas, prices were low and profits were small. But now there was some “new money” moving in, and the folks who came from the North East wanted the sort of homes they were used to in Westchester County – big houses, lots of space, pools in the garden, and all set in a “park like” environment with luxurious communal grounds and a good high wall around with security gates at the entrance. Jeff chuckled as he explained that the prices for these new executive homes were far higher than he had been able to charge before, but the costs were about the same – so he was getting richer! Still, he commented “those folks from the North East think they’re getting a bargain, so we’re all happy”.
The big problem he had was not in finding the land, or in bribing the State officials so that the homes could be built in unspoiled virgin areas, but in getting the workers to build them. “The Arkansas boys just don’t want to work. They’re happy sitting in their shacks in the country, and the welfare payments that are set to keep people on poverty in the cities, let them live well here”, he explained.
And when he did get workers, they only wanted to use the machinery, and not the heavy, manual labour that was always necessary. Even though much of the work in building new homes had been mechanised, with back-hoes to dig trenches, and factory-assembled units arriving by truck to be craned into position in the skeletons of the houses, there was still an irreducible minimum of hard labour necessary. Not even the most skilled back-hoe operator could dig trenches right up to the walls of the new homes, for example. So that’s why he had gone to the auction and bought me – he had seen that I was big and well muscled, and looking at my particulars in the dossiers that were available for each slave, he had seen that I had worked on building sites before. He reasoned that with my build, I must have been used to hard work on a site – and, as a slave, he could make me do all the jobs that he couldn ’t pay the Arkansas boys to do.
We pulled off the highway by a large builders merchants, and Jeff asked me what size work boots I took. He told me to stay in the truck, “as we didn’t want to frighten the other customers by seeing a guy in all his glory”. So he left me sitting there whilst he went in.
I sat in the car park with the windows open to keep the cab as cool as possible, and looked out at the other customers coming and going. The weedy guys picking up bits and pieces for their do-it-yourself projects, and the women coming out with cans of paint and stuff that were obviously going to be that weekend’s projects for their hard-worked husbands. Several of them glanced at me, but all they could see was my naked torso through the open windows, as of course the rest of my naked body was hidden by the metal of the truck. I grinned inwardly as I wondered what they would think if they came over and looked in to ask me a question – most of those weedy guys would have given anything for my magnificent body, I knew, and the women would go wet just at the thought of my big, rampant cock. Just the sight of a woman again, even those unattractive suburban housewives, was enough to make me go rock hard, and I thought about jerking myself off: even though there were no tissues in the pickup or any scrap of cloth I could use as a jerk-off cloth to catch the cum, three months of living in the dormitory on the road gang had taught me to catch the cum in my other hand and swallow it down – I had even got quite to like the slightly salt taste and smooth slick texture as it slipped down my throat.
But I had only just spit into my palm to moisten my hand a bit to get started when Jeff came out. Almost the only problem with having a great work-hardened body was that my hands were tough, too, with ridges of hard skin on the insides of all the joints of my fingers, where my fingers joined the palms, and on the ball of my hands. It was no longer quite so much fun to jerk off as these ridges of skin could catch my cock head, and the rim around the crown in particular, and sometimes make me wince! That was about the only advantage I could think of in having a woman to jerk you off – their fingers are always lovely and silky on your cock, although of course they can’t properly anticipate your needs to slow down and speed up as you can yourself.
Jeff had got me a pair of heavy lace-up work boots, several pairs of white crew socks, and a hard hat. He told me to try on the boots to make sure they were the right size, and, as they were, we drove off.
As we drove off the highway, there was a large sign saying “Lakeside Homes. New Executive Homes all set in a woodland setting by the lake side”, and Jeff pulled his pickup to a halt.
Looking around, there were l0 homes in all, in quite an advanced stage of completion.
We got out of the pickup, and Jeff led me off on a tour of inspection. With my heavy work boots and hard hat, I didn’t look all that different from the other guys working, except of course that that was all I was wearing. The other guys were all in their twenties, thirties, or forties. Most of the younger ones were in shorts and didn’t wear shirts, whereas the older guys tended to wear jeans, and Ts or work shirts open to the waist. Almost all of them were not in great physical shape, being 20 pounds or so overweight.
It was interesting to see their reaction to me. As we went by, they would cast a casual glance to see who was with Jeff, then would stop suddenly when they realised I was naked. Then they all took a closer look, and I just knew that they were comparing my hard body with their own flabby ones, and were inwardly measuring themselves up against my great cock and low-hanging balls.
Work had almost stopped totally by the time we had got across the site to the site office (a temporary wooden hut), so Jeff called for all the workers to gather around.
“Guys, this is Steve”, he said. “He’s an indentured worker from a special government programme, and I have paid a good price to have him work here seven days a week for the next two months. He’s going to do all the jobs that you bastards are too weak or too idle to do – so anything that needs hard manual labour, like trench digging, carrying small quantities of supplies around when it’s not worth starting up the dump truck, or whatever, goes to him.”
“Other than that, treat him just like one of you, except that he won’t go home at night. And under the government rules of the programme he’s on, he’s wearing all that he’s allowed: we have to be able to see those brands on his pecs and his ass all the time. I don’t think any of you are gay, but if you are, you are allowed to fuck him – if you dare, that is! He ’s a mean looking guy, and he’s on the government programme because he beat up several people. So whilst he has to obey your orders, I reckon you need to go a bit easy in case he breaks out of his conditioning.”
“Now, any questions?”
The guys had started to snigger at the mention of gay and fucking, but now were all silent.
“Right then, let’s put him to work. Joe – get him a shovel, and start him digging the drainage trenches into plot 6”.
And with that, I started to work on the site.
After the sheer unrelenting toil on the road gang, digging the trench on the site was a piece of piss. There was no guard with a lash to drive me on at a high work rate, and whenever I wanted to rest on my shovel for a moment or too, I could. And compared to working in the open under the burning hot sun, the site was pleasantly shaded with mature trees that had been left amongst the new homes.
Even so, after about an hour I was sweating like a pig, but I carried on until I saw all the other guys stopping work and gathering by the site hut for their afternoon’s break. I didn’t know what to do, but being used to working without stopping, I carried on. But one of the older guys came over and stood looking at me as I swung my shovel up and down.
Hitching his belt up to cover his fat flabby stomach a bit, he said “Son – Steve, isn’t it?”
I nodded
“Well, Steve, down here in Arkansas we always stop for a break in the afternoon. Come on over and join us – unless you’re embarrassed, that is!”
I looked him all over, and I knew he knew I was comparing my body with his.
“I haven’t got anything to be ashamed of!”, I said, and leaped up out of the trench I was digging and followed him over to the other guys. They were all sitting around swigging on cans of Coke, and I looked enviously at them because I was thirsty (and I had of course never had anything other than water for the last three months).
“Cokes are 50c”, one said “We all chip in and buy them in bulk, once a week”.
“Well”, I said, “As you can see, I sure as hell don’t have any money concealed about me! So I’ll have to stick with water!.”
I think that broke the ice, because the guys all laughed, and one threw me a can, saying “Have this one on us, then. And we’ll have to see if we can’t sell a stud like you off to one of our lady friends for a night, so you can make a few bucks to keep you in cold drinks!”.
We then spent our 20 minute break doing all the things guys on building sites do – talking about sports, and about what they would do with various actresses from the TV if they appeared on the site. I couldn’t really join in fully with this happy joshing, because I was completely out of touch with sports, and most of the TV lovelies they were lusting after were completely unknown to me.
During the afternoon the prospective buyers of the house I was working on did in fact visit – a big BMW deposited the guy, who looked like a lawyer as he was wearing a dark suit even in the hot sunshine, and his wife who was a big, long-limned blonde, outside. I was at once conscious of being totally naked, but I was down the trench that was about four feet deep, so as they walked in to inspect the almost finished house, all they saw was the top half of me. But that woman sure was attractive: on the road gang, I’d hardly even seen a woman, so this good looking lady was a real turn on.
Without being able to stop myself, I had a huge, hard erection and I had to stop work as you can’t swing a pickaxe with your pecker jutting out straight as a ramrod in front of you. Some of the guys looking down into the trench saw this, and there was a lot of hollering and catcalling: I grinned back at them, and told them that either they were a bunch of faggots not to show their appreciation of that blonde as I was doing, or their jeans were too tight and I hope it hurt them to strain against the fabric! There was a lot of laughing about this, and I think they were starting to accept me.
Then it was back to work, and I spent the rest of the afternoon really enjoying stretching my body to work at the pace I wanted, rather than being forced to work at the pace of the road gang.
At the end of the working day, I was covered in a thin layer of dirt from where I had been digging, and it was streaked over my body where rivers of sweat had run down my chest, stomach and thighs. There weren’t any showers or anything on the site, as it was only a construction project not a fancy office, so I had to stand and clean myself off with a stream of water from one of the construction hoses. It sure was cold, but after the heat of the day it wasn’t too bad: the inevitable happened, of course, and as the cold water sluiced over my body my prick shrivelled and my balls contracted upwards pulling the skin of my sac into a tight wrinkly mass. Seeing this, one of the guys shouted out “Steve sure has been cured of the effects of that blonde gal – he’s just like a little boy now!”
Jeff came back to the site and led me over to one of the wooden shacks that were there temporarily to store cement and other supplies. He unlocked the padlock on the door and we went in. In the corner there were a couple of blankets, and he told me that was where I was to sleep. Pointing to one of the sacks, he said that was the slave mash that the Prison Service had provided, so I should help myself. A bucket of cold water was there in case I was thirsty, and there was an empty bucket “for the other end”.
He then said “I sure am sorry to do this to a guy like you, but the rules are the rules.” And so saying he took out a pair of ankle cuffs joined together by about two feet of chain, and locked them around my ankles. A chain from the left cuff was then padlocked to a bolt that had been concreted into a big block of concrete that was just standing there on the dirt floor.
“That’s 250 pounds of concrete in that block”, Jeff told me, “So if you do want to go wandering, you won’t go far even with your strength! Now good night.”
And with that he left me, and I heard him padlocking the door behind him, as an extra precaution.
I don’t know whether it was the sheer pleasure of relative freedom, or just being able to sleep in the quiet without all the little snores, gasps and farts of 30 other guys around me, but I didn ’t wake up by myself in the morning.
I suddenly came to as there was a slap on my naked ass cheek, and I snapped awake to see Jeff standing over me, holding the blanket he had evidently stripped off me.
“Rise and shine, to meet the new day”, he said. “Although you obviously have already done the rise bit!”.
I realised he was staring at my cock, which was rigidly erect as most guys’ are when they first wake up.
“Come on, I need you to start work. But take a moment to get that cock of yours down – most of the guys are jealous enough of your tackle already, and I don’t want them distracted from their work all day wondering about they would measure up to that massive thing!”
I sat up, rubbed the sleep out of my eye, and whilst Jeff watched I pulled on my socks and boots. My cock was still hard, and so I did the little trick that I had been told about by a friend once when I was about to take part in a gym exhibition at High School, and was worried about the very noticeable bulge in my shorts in spite of a tight jock strap – I simply squeezed the tip of my cock with the tips of my finger nail on my thumb and first finger. I dug them in sharply and suddenly, so I winced, and my cock subsided almost immediately.
Jeff saw me do this and laughed, and told me that when he had had to go into hospital for a hernia operation, the nurse had come to shave some of his pubic hair off before the operation, and he had had an erection. She had simply flicked the tip of her finger at his cock, and this had been enough to drive his erection away, too. She had told him that it was an old nursing trick when the nurses had to deal with horny males, although there were sometimes now problems in hospitals with the arrival of so many male nurses – they didn’t like flicking the patients’ cocks in that way.
Jeff told me to take some of the slave mash with me, and I munched on it as he took me to today’s task – shoveling sand and aggregate into a cement mixer, to mix concrete for the floors of the yards and paths.
At morning break time the other guys were again nice to me, and at lunch they even gave me some of their sandwiches – they tried the utterly bland slave mash, and spat it out in disgust. And by the afternoon break I thought they were totally relaxed about my nakedness, as I was myself, of course.
It was probably the hottest afternoon I had yet experienced all the time I had been in Arkansas, and by 5 p.m. I was really exhausted from the day’s work. I thought Jeff was going to make me work on until 8 p.m., but he came over and told me that he was so pleased with the way that I had really worked so hard during the day – I had manned the mixer alone, whereas it usually took two guys – that I could finish when the other guys did.
“And “, he said, “most of the young ones are going for a swim in the lake before going home. If you want to join them, I’ll trust you to go then I can chain you up when I get back”.
There were six workers in their twenties and early thirties, and with the exception of one I particularly liked, Seb, they were walking off towards the lake, so I loped off to join them.
They, too, were sweating profusely in the hot late afternoon sun and the high humidity, and the waistbands of their shorts were wet with their sweat that had run down their stomachs and backs.
“You guys should start to work naked, like me”, I said. “You don’t get all that wet sweaty line accumulating around your waist. And when I used to wear work shorts with briefs underneath, my balls used to be bathed in sweat by the end of the day. I stopped wearing anything under my shorts in the summer, so the air could circulate better up the legs – but, actually, having no shorts at all is much better for keeping cool!”
Some of the guys laughed nervously at this, and we reached the edge of the water. We all stood there, taking off our heavy work boots, and then the other guys stopped and started to shift around, nervously, and made no move to get into the water.
“What’s the matter? Are there sharks in there, or something? “ I asked.
The oldest guy in the group of swimmers, Mike, grinned and replied “Steve… it’s just that me and the boys usually skinny dip in the lake. We don’t bother to change into swimsuits. We’re used to that in Arkansas – it’s quite a tradition for high school kids to start to skinny dip all Summer, and we’re used to it. But seeing you standing there, with those plumped up muscles, dark brown all over, and that huge set of tackle, has made us a bit…. a bit…. well… shy, I guess! ”. And so saying, he slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts, and with one quick gesture pushed them and his briefs underneath down to his ankles, stepped out of them, and ran into the lake.
I followed him, and quick as a flash, all six of us were swimming around. I was a good swimmer, and started to do “lengths” of the lake in my fast crawl. After a bit, I saw the other guys clustered in one place, and swam over to join them. They were in deep water, and had linked arms around each others shoulders so that they could semi-float, just using the minimum of kicking motions to stay afloat. I pushed in between Mike and one of the others, Jon, broke them apart, and inserted myself into the ring, twining my arms and shoulders with Mike’s and Jon’s.
“Hey, guys, this is great, isn’t it?” I said. “When I was on the high school swimming team we had to swim in those tight Speedos, but swimming nude is so much better – don’t you just love the way the water flows over your balls when you’re thrusting through the water? “
“Our local public pool used to have one night a week as a men’s night, and costumes were optional. I used to go along and swim naked, but when my folks found out, they made me stop. Dad didn’t like the fact that a lot of older guys used to go along and just sit on the side and watch us young studs swimming and larking around – in general, only us studs with good bodies left our costumes off, and the older guys wore big swimming shorts. And when we had the half-hour session of nude water polo, even then you could see that most of the watchers had huge erections in spite of all the spare fabric on the front of the shorts.”
“Do you have that around here, so a bunch of guys can get together and swim naked, or do you rely on finding a private place like this new lake?”
They didn’t really answer me, and I felt that they were uneasy with having me in their circle, as it soon broke up, we swam a bit more, and then all make for the lakeside terrace.
They all had towels to dry off, but of course I didn’t so I just shucked most of the water off my body by running my hands all over it. Then when I saw that Mike had finished drying himself and was pulling his shorts back on, I reached over and picked up his wet towel and started to use it to finish drying myself, as a little breeze had got up and even in the hot evening air, having a breeze playing over your wet skin can make you feel chill.
“Hey, Steve, what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”, Mike snapped.
“Sorry, man. I thought you had finished drying yourself, and I just wanted to get this last water off me”.
“You can’t use another guy’s towel like that – it’s unhygienic.”
“Sorry again, Mike. I thought you would take it straight home and get your old lady to put it in the wash. I didn’t think you’d use it again before washing, and be worried about catching something from me!”
Mike then saw what I was going on about, grinned and replied
“It wasn’t me I was worried about – I didn’t like to think of you using a towel that had been up my ass and around my cock. I thought you thought I had only used that towel on my head, or something!”
So, as all of them listened, I told them how three months on the road gang had taken away any inhibitions I had ever had about sharing anything with another guy. We weren’t really allowed towels at all on the gang, but of course we shared razors which had to scrape our faces and our asses and sacs. And I told them about the cum-stiff mattresses in the overnight slave cages, and how we didn’t have a choice of which one we slept on. “So you see”, I finished, “using another guy’s towel, even if it has been used to dry his ass crack, isn’t a problem – after all that swimming, all your asses will be clean anyway, even if they weren’t before!”.
They all laughed, and I saw that another step had been taken to break the ice and really start to treat me just as “one of the boys from Arkansas”. They went off to their trucks to drive home, and I went over to be shackled in the hut by Jeff, who by now had come back.
By Friday night, with one exception, it was just as if I was a regular member of the gang working on the site. The guys treated me as “one of them”, gave me drinks as I had no money, shared their food with me (some of them had their women include extra pieces of pie, and more fruit, in their lunch boxes so they could give it to me), and we chatted and joked just as any bunch of working men do together.
The one exception was Jon, who I thought was about 26, like me. He was probably the most athletic looking of all the workers, but his job was mostly sitting down all day as he was the driver of the back hoe and did most of the heavy moving and site work with it. He only occasionally jumped down out of the cab to shovel at some truly inaccessible part, or to clear something that had got hopelessly tangled up. I didn’t know why he apparently didn’t like me, as I had never done anything, as far as I know, to offend him. But he almost totally ignored me at the break-time sessions, and never said a civil word to me when we were swimming or anything.
As he was chaining me up on Friday night, Jeff reminded me that even though the other workers would not be there for the next two days, I was enslaved to work seven days a week.
“I guess that’s a good thing, anyway”, he said, “as otherwise you’d be chained up in this hut until Monday morning. We’re a bit behind on the over site preparations, so I’ve got Jon to come in and do overtime tomorrow and you can help him all day. But no one can work on Sunday – they’re very bible-fearing here in Arkansas – so on Saturday night I have told Jon to chain you up as usual but to be sure to leave you a full bucket of water to drink, and an empty bucket for you to crap and piss in. The slave mash is in there, so you won’t starve.”
I lay there on Friday night before going to sleep thinking how much better it would have been if one of the others, like Seb, had been coming in the following day rather than Jon. We could have had a bit of a laugh over lunch, but with Jon, I knew I would be lucky to get any words at all.
I woke early on Saturday morning, as I didn’t want to have Jon see me with my morning hard on. I jerked off as soon as I woke up, and as there was no tissue or cum-cloth in the hut, I did what I had learned to do on the road gang – I caught my cum in the palm of my other hand, then quickly slurped it down, followed by a drink from the bucket to clear my throat of the slightly viscous sensation of the cum.
Jon then came, and seemed a bit surprised to see me lying there naked with my ankle chained to the floor. He took out the key, squatted down, and, without looking at me or saying anything, released my shackle. Then, still without saying a word, went outside without waiting to see me put on my socks and boots.
I heard the back hoe fire up, and went out to start work, without breakfast.
We were clearing the back yard area of one of the houses, and there was a lot of interaction needed between the back hoe driver and the hand labourer – so Jon was forced to keep shouting instructions and so on to me, even thought it was clear from his manner he really didn’t like communicating with me at all.
After a couple of hours, he turned off the machine and jumped down, and went over towards the hut for his morning break. I went over to join him, as I usually did, but took with me a load of slave mash as I knew Jon would not share any of his food with me. He sat there, silently eating a sandwich and swigging a can of Coke, as I munched on the bland slave mash directly from my hands.
Jon looked disgusted, then said “Get way from me – I’m trying to eat. I don’t want to have to sit next to an animal like you. You can’t even eat decently!”
“Hey, sorry, man. Do you think I want to eat this crap, with my fingers? But there ’s nothing else, and no implements to eat it with. Part of the Programme I’m on is to punish me by , making me go naked, branding me, making me eat slave food, and making me feel like an animal when I have to feed with my fingers. It shows it’s working ,when a decent guy like you even calls me an animal!”
“What have I ever done to upset you? I get along with all the other guys, I work hard and don’t cause anyone any trouble. You don’t have to like me, but you could at least be civil!”
Jon glared at me and rapped back “You’re a fucking rapist – Jeff told us about your record and why you’re on this government Programme. Rapists are animals, and deserve to be treated as such. No… we should treat animals with respect – rapists shouldn’t even get that. My younger sister was raped, and if I could have caught up with the animal that did it, I would have made sure he never did it again – I would have cut his balls off. Instead of that, I have to come to work every day and see a rapist flaunting his cock and balls around and being proud of them.
Did it feel good to stick that big fat cock of yours up some young girl against her will. Did you just stick it up her pussy, or up her ass as well, as my sister had done to her? ”
“You know fuck all about it”, I screamed at him. “I’m not some pervert that would go for young girls! Do you want to know the truth?”
“Oh, so it was young boys whose asses you violated, then, was it?”, he sneered.
“Listen – if you want to hear the whole story, I’ll tell you. Otherwise shut the fuck up. And if you ever accuse me of sticking my prick up young boys, I’ll beat your head in – even though it will add l0 years at least to my sentence. I’m not some sort of gay queer, and don’t you ever say anything like that about me again.”
So then I told him my story, and afterwards I finished with “So, mister self-righteous, what would you have done? If you get home tonight and find one of your mates – let’s say Seb – in bed with your old lady, what are you going to do? Close the bedroom door, walk away, and thank Seb for looking after her whilst you’re here working? Or are you going to do what I did
- beat the shit out of him, and fuck her one last time?”
“The only reason I have ‘rapist’ on my record is because I flushed another man’s cum out of my wife’s cunt with a big shot of my own, even though she was crying ‘no’. Technically, that’s rape. But I bet there’s not another man on this site, including you, who wouldn’t do the same thing.”
Jon looked at me, and, with great difficulty, said “hey, man, I’m sorry. Sorry for all your troubles, especially as you obviously liked your old lady a lot. And really sorry for being suck a prick all the week. Here… “, he held out his hand “…shake and let’s be buddies.”
As I shook his hand, I said “Jon, I’m really sorry to hear about your sister. Did they ever catch the guy? What happened to her?”
“No – somewhere around here there’s some smug bastard who still occasionally grabs a young college girl and rapes her. My sister was one of the early ones. She was brave, though, and went to the police – a lot of them didn’t before – and made a big fuss. She told the papers there was nothing she had done to be ashamed of, and if women didn’t speak out, rapists would go on getting away with it. I think being very public about it, and campaigning about it, enabled her to get over the trauma. She had an abortion – although she had to go out of State to get it, as it was not possible at that time here in Arkansas – then went back to college. She ’s living happily now in upstate New York, with her husband and their first kid. She’s just got a good job with a dot.com startup, and now she sends her big brother expensive birthday and Christmas gifts.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, if the guy is caught, he’ll have a hard time in prison. There was a child molester on the Programme I’m on, and one day he was found in the showers with his balls cut off – I don’t know how the others did it, as we aren’t allowed knives or anything. I think the guards snuck it in, so he could be punished even more severely than by serving time on the Programme – and, God knows, that’s hard enough.”
Jon looked at his watch then, and said, “Ok, I’m in charge today, you know. Back to work, Steve”.
Using my name like that, I knew that he and I were now right with each other, and we worked away as a good team, making such excellent progress that by 4 p.m. we were finished.
I was very hot and sweaty as usual, and Jon was, too, as he got down from the cab. “Swim before you go?”, I asked.
“Race you to it!”, Jon shouted, as he set off for the water. We got to the water’s edge at about the same time, and stood there, hopping from foot to foot, as we got out of our boots and socks. But I beat him into the water because he then had to stop to shuck off his shorts.
Like me, he was a good swimmer, and we raced each other up and down the lake in a proper, competitive, guy way. After l0 lengths, we both sort of gasped “stop” simultaneously, and waded out to the lakeside terrace.
“Shit!”, Jon said, “I haven’t got a towel – I didn’t think I was going to give a bastard like you the chance to have a refreshing swim! I was just going to enjoy chaining you up for the weekend, all sweaty!”
“Don’t bother”, I replied, and showed him how to scrape the water off his body. As his hands went across his genitals, I could see that he was a bit embarrassed – even guys who are athletes and used to communal changing rooms can be a bit embarrassed when it’s “one on one” with only two guys together, especially when it’s not in the enclosed environment of a proper locker room.
But we both had most of the water off, then I suggested we lay down and let the sun dry the remainder of it, so we flopped down onto our stomachs and let the warm sun burn into our backs, asses, and thighs. Anyone looking on would have thought we were a couple of friends who had just seized the opportunity to skinny-dip, but I suppose they might have wondered why I was a dark tan all over, whereas Jon’s ass and thighs stood out starkly from the rest of his tanned body, where his shorts usually covered him.
When my back was dry, I rolled over, and expected Jon to do the same. But he didn ’t, and just lay there on his front. After a couple of minutes I told him to turn over otherwise he would get a sunburned ass, but he made no move. So I reminded him again in another couple of minutes, and then, shyly, he rolled over.
I then realised why he was reluctant to turn over onto his back – he almost had a full erection. I guessed he had become erect when lying on his stomach, but had been able to press his cock into the paving. He hadn’t wanted to turn over and let me see it, and had only done so when it had started to go down, and when the sun on his back had become intolerable.
“Hey, Jon, the average guy has at least 20 erections a day! You’ve all seen me with one on this site, as they strike me even when I’m working. So don’t worry about it – remember, I’ve spend months working, living and sleeping with 30 totally nude guys. Do you think I haven’t had my eye full of erections in that time?”
“Sorry, Steve. But it’s not as simple as that. I was horny for my old lady, who’s away for a week at her mom’s place. But having an erection in front of other guys is just something we just don’t do around here – I guess it’s different when you’re on that Programme and are required to be nude all the time, but for us ordinary guys, erections in front of other guys says only one thing in Arkansas – ‘fag’. And I’m not gay.”
“Neither am I, Jon. And I won’t think any less of you because your body has reacted perfectly naturally. And of course I won’t tell any of the other guys what I’ve seen”.
I smiled encouragingly as I said this last bit, so he knew I wouldn’t rat on him.
We went off to the hut, and I went in, took off my boots, and stretched out on the f loor. He came in, started to put the shackle around my ankle, then looked about at the water bucket, the piss bucket, and the sack of slave mash on the side.
“Have you got to lie here until Monday morning?” he asked.
“Sure. But it’s not a problem. The chain is long enough for me to be able to get up and go to the door and squat down in the sun if I want, or I can just lie here and relax. This is paradise compared to the road gang!”
I wasn’t expecting anyone to come in on the Sunday, but the door opened at around eight and Jeff came in. He unlocked me, and made no comment about the huge hard I had (most guys do, don’t they, when they first wake up?). I really didn’t notice my own nakedness first think in the morning, and did what a lot of guys do in the privacy of their bathroom – scratched my ass, shook my balls a bit just to get that comforting feeling that they’re still there, scratched my pits, and ran my fingers through the stubble of my hair. I threw back my shoulders, raised my arms above my head and stretched luxuriously to get more awake – of course this threw my pelvis forwards, and the tip of my still erect prick nudged Jeff who was standing too close.
I don’t know who was more embarrassed. Jeff backed away, and my stretch (and my prick) sort of collapsed
None of the other guys were working that day, of course, but Jeff told me to concrete a huge yard: they were so behind, he had decided to risk breaking the “no working on Sunday” rule and come in to get me started. I had to barrow in the sand and cement, mix the concrete by hand as I was not allowed to use machinery, and lay it down in the yard having first barrowed in a whole lot of crushed rock to make a foundation. Looking apologetic, Jeff padlocked a metal collar around my neck which had a ten metre long stainless steel cable made of multiple strands attached to it. The other end of this cable was attached to the concrete block in my hut, and Jeff explained that he was required to keep me securely tethered when there were no other workers around. They used a stainless steel cable like this because it had been found that slaves could use pickaxes to actually break open the links of chains – but, said Jeff, there was nothing sharp enough to cut the cable in reach on the site, so I shouldn’t bother to waste my strength trying!
I think working all alone that day, with only slave mash to eat, tethered by that long cable so I could move around the site, was the ultimate humiliation. It’s one thing to be made to work naked, but another when you get treated like a dog: tethered to the site, I had just enough freedom to be able to work, but not enough to be able to leave. That’s exactly how owners of big guard dogs treat their animals – tether them securely, by a long cable, so they can do their job of guarding the house, but can’t escape. I just couldn’t help drawing these comparisons with animals.
Jeff had told me he wasn’t coming back to lock me up on Sunday night as I was secure enough tethered by my collar, so when I had finished work I went around the back of the cabin, where there was long grass, and lay in it, and rolled around – this was real pleasure, and it was good to feel the cool grass on my body as the sun also warmed it. I rolled onto my back, and started to jerk off – I hadn’t done so all week, in spite of my huge morning erections, as there was nowhere to loose my cum. After a day’s abstinence, it only took a few strokes of my cock before a jet of cum spurted out from me (I’ve always spurted it out hard and fast, and I’m not a dribbler, as some guys are). What a relief – I really felt good.
I lay there a bit longer, and after about twenty minutes decided to jerk off again – without my cock bar, I could run my hands up and down my cock as much as I wanted, and as I had shot my first load so soon before, I could enjoy a really long, slow jerking session. I rolled slightly on to my side as I felt my balls tightening and the next round of cum starting to shoot, so that it didn’t go all over me.
It felt so good, I knew I had to work something out for the normal week days. I didn’t want the whole cabin reeking of cum when Jeff came in, so what could I do? I supposed I would just keep on slurping my own cum up from the palm of my hand. Most guys in confinement, or who don’t have any toilet tissue nearby, get rid of it this way after all. I guess that in my previous life I had been having women for so long that I had forgotten all the niceties of jerking off, and when I was a teenager I had always been too terrified that my mom might see cum stains on my sheets that I only ever did it outdoors, or lying on the bathroom floor with a lot of toilet tissue around!.
The second week was exactly like the first, and on Friday night Jeff again brought the collar and long steel cable to tether me up for the weekend. He gave me a project to last the whole weekend, but told me that no one else was coming in at all, not even Jon, and that I would be totally alone.
As I woke up on Saturday morning, I thought about going outside again for an outdoor jerk-off, but just as I was getting to my feet I heard a truck draw up and the door of the cabin opened. I was still erect, and whilst I had gotten used to Jeff seeing me like this, I was a bit embarrassed when Seb came in.
Seb was about the same age as me, but not so strong and muscular. He had one of those compact, “swimmers” bodies, with a lot of muscle that doesn’t show much. Most of his upper body was covered in wiry black hair, that was a thick forest on his chest, and I guessed his legs must be the same as a trail of black hair went down over his belly to disappear into the top of his jeans – I had not seen him in cut-offs at all. I thought he must be a bit ashamed of his body for some reason – although he had absolutely nothing to be worried about on that score – as even when all the other guys had stripped off their T-shirts, Seb still had his on and had to be joshed to be made to uncover like all the other guys on the site.
Listening to the other guys talk during the week, I had heard that he was a local boy who at l7 married the daughter of a manager from the East who had recently arrived to run a new local factory. Her parents were horrified that she was throwing herself away on a “piece of local trash”, and were even more shocked when she had had three children by the time she was 20. Seb had of course quit high school to work to support them, but things had not gone well and when her parents moved to California when the manager was promoted, she had upped and gone with them, taking the kids with her. Seb couldn’t even afford to go and visit them, so had lost touch with his kids. He had moved back home to live with his mom and pop, so that he could save every penny he earned – he had some sort of idea of moving to California, although I doubted that he ever would, as what would an uneducated country boy with an Arkansas accent do there? His wife certainly wouldn’t take him back as she had divorced him and was now, he had said, married to an executive working in IT. And she had told him that she woul d employ all the lawyers necessary to stop him seeing the kids.
Whilst all the guys were to some extent nice to me by now, Seb was the kindest, and his mom had been sending me food almost every day. I guessed it was because we were about the same age, both had kids we no longer saw, and both had had a lot of woman trouble.
Looking down at my erection, he said “Hey, Steve, were you expecting me, or what?”, with a big grin on his face.
“Hi, Seb. What are you doing here? Forgotten it’s Saturday?”
“No. I heard you say how dull it is here at the weekend, so I’ve come to help you out.”
And with that, he asked me what I was to do that Saturday and Sunday, and we went out and started work. It was concreting yards again, and although he did not have the power and strength that I did, having an extra pair of hands sure was useful. By mid morning we were making good progress, and I was sweating like a pig. So was Seb, and his T-shirt was sticking to his chest, but without the other guys to spur him on, he simply left it on.
We sat side by side at lunch time with our backs to the cabin wall, and he gave me fried chicken his mom had made – it was fabulous. It was so hot against that wall that he did reach down and pull the T-shirt over his head, and we continued to sit there.
“You know you could take those jeans off as well if you want to. I’m too hot, and I’m naked. I’ve seen guys in boxers before, and you won’t embarrass me!”, I said.
But Seb did not, and instead abruptly got to his feet and said “back to work”.
Sunday morning he was there again, and we had finished the project by eleven. We were sitting having an early lunch, and it was so hot again that Seb had taken his T-shirt off lik e yesterday. Suddenly he said ”Steve, can I trust you?”
“What do you mean? ‘Trust me’? How?”
“If I took that collar off you, would you give me your solemn word not to try to run away, and allow me to collar you again tonight?”
“Well, I suppose so. But Jeff says I must be tethered all the time at weekends. Won’t you or he get into trouble with the law? But if you’re wondering if I’ll make a run for it, the answer’s no: you don’t see too many totally naked guys on the roads, even here in Arkansas!”.
“Well Jeff won’t know. And I won’t tell, and I’m prepared to take the risk. I ‘borrowed’ the key to this collar from his desk on Friday night .” And with that, he leaned up and unlocked my collar. As we were sitting side by side, he couldn’t help but rub his chest against mine as he did this, and I felt my nipples stiffen involuntarily, in the way all guys’ nipples sometimes do, as his wiry chest brushed lightly over them.
“Ok, come on then, into my truck”, said Seb, and set off across the site. The truck had been sitting in the sun, and as I got into the passenger seat the naugahyde was burningly hot against my naked back and ass – I’d forgotten about things like that and shouted, and squirmed. Seb threw me a towel to put over the seat, and we set off.
He had one of those “conversions” – a normal truck, but with big high wheels raising it high off the ground. Anyone looking in to the passenger windows would just see a couple of guys with bare chests – it wouldn’t occur to them that one of us was totally naked! I wondered to myself how many nude drivers I had passed on the highway back in “real life”.
We set off down the highway, and through the local town – I looked in interest, as I hadn’t really seen anything like this for some time, but then we left the town behind and were soon bumping along dirt roads until Seb parked the truck. We got out and went through a small belt of trees, and I saw that we were on the banks of a small lake.
“This here lake is a proper swimming hole”, said Seb, “not like that little artificial thing back on the site”
“Swim?” He asked, and I didn’t even bother to say “yes” but simply ran into the wonderful cool water. I’m a strong swimmer, and was about 20 yards out in no time. I trod water and turned around to see Seb with his back to me drop his jeans, slip his boxers to the ground, then cover up his astonishingly white ass and thighs with a pair of long-legged swimming shorts. I was of course a dark even tan all over, and at sports clubs in big cities you often see guys who never go into the sun an so are white all over. But when you get labourers who are burned a dark colour on the tops of the bodies, and on their legs, they do look a bit strange when they’re naked – rather like one of those cookies with a layer of creamy white stuff in between two chocolate biscuits.
He finished wriggling his ass into the shorts, then turned and ran into the lake too, and swam out to join me. It’s funny, isn’t it – even when there are only two guys together, there’s some sort of modestly that makes a guy turn his ass towards the other when changing? You very rarely see a guy strip off with his cock towards the others in a changing room.
Even before I was condemned to live totally naked, I always thought that there was one thing I would always do that way if I had the choice – swimming! I really like the way that the water flows over our cock and balls, and along your ass, when you’re naked.
“You’re a good swimmer”, I told Seb because he had swum out to where I was in no time.
“Yes, until I left school I was always in the swimming team. That’s how I met my wife – she wanted to be seen with one of the school’s top athletes.”
“Come on, Seb – take those shorts off! We’re both guys here, and if you’ve never swum naked before, you don’t know what you’re missing! “, I said jocularly to him. But he didn’t do or say anything.
I started to swim to a small island in the lake, but Seb really was good – I’m a good swimmer, and of course I have a lot of power and strength in my arms and legs. But after a couple of strokes Seb overtook me and was waiting on the island when I arrived. We sat in the warm shallow water at the edge of the island, and splashed idly up and down with our feet, in the way you do on a hot afternoon. But a couple of guys who’re still quite young, in spite of having had hard lives, like to fool around, and soon we were splashing each other vigorously and laughing a lot.
The splashing soon turned into a sort of fun wrestling match in the shallow water, and I easily overpowered Seb. “I win!”, I told him through our mutual laughs, “And I claim the prize of a pair of black swimming shorts”, and as I said this I reached down and tried to pull his shorts off. He reacted by kicking out at me, and that only made me more determined to succeed. In an instant our happy game had turned into a real struggle – one which I was of course bound to win given my bigger size and power – and I pulled the shorts down over his slight but muscular ass and along his kicking legs.
He was furious, and when we had stopped struggling demanded his shorts back. But I was pretty pissed off by now, and said “Race you for them” and ran into the water and started to swim to the shore, holding his shorts in one hand.
He easily overtook me, and we struggled and wrestled in the water half way to shore – I had to push his head under a couple of times and hold it there, before I could et away and the chase could resume.
We repeated the struggle a couple more times on the way back, and ended up wrestling again in the shallow water on the edge of the lake. Even when you’re not sexually attracted to another guy, there is something erotic about having the warm, wet body of another good looking stud intertwined with yours as you wrestle – especially when you’re both nude and you both suddenly realise you’ve both got erections.
We disengaged, and Seb was red with embarrassment and demanded his shorts back. I could see I’d gone too far, and of course surrendered them to him, and he turned his back on me as he pulled them on.
The afternoon which up tot hen had been a lot of fun was spoiled – we had gone from two guys laughing and frolicking one minute, to being two guys who were not speaking to each other the next.
“Back in the van!”, Seb commanded, and we drove back to the site in total silence.
When we got there, I expected Seb to put my collar back on and leave me tethered. But instead, still in his swimming shorts, he went onto my shack, went over to the leg chains and told me to come over there to be chained up. I did as I was told, but instead of fastening the cuffs around my ankles as usual, Seb put them around my wrists. Then he took up all the slack between them, and all the loose chain I normally had, before padlocking them to the concrete block.
He spread my blankets over the dirt floor and pushed them under my body – I was lying full length now, on my stomach, with my wrists slightly in the air and almost immobile.
“You couldn’t leave well alone, could you, Steve?”
“What do you mean, Seb? We were only having a bit of harmless fun. You were a swimmer, in the school team – a whole lot of guys must have seen your cock when you’re changing. And you’ve seen mine every day. So what was the harm is a bit of horse play like that.”
“Steve, you don’t know how hard it has been for me since you arrived. I’ve always been attracted to men, but I’ve always curbed myself and denied it. I got married as I thought that fucking a woman regularly and having kids would make e normal. Then you come along, the best looking guy I have ever seen. I get a hard on every time I catch sight of you, and I have been able to admire every inch of that fantastic body of yours. But if that wasn’t enough, since we’ve been talking at breaks I know you’re a really great guy and exactly the man of my fantasies – a huge nude stud, with a wicked smile, and a terrific personality.”
“I’ve tried to fight it, and today I really was just being nice and taking you out of here for the day. I sort of thought we’d have a two-guys-together sort of day, just shooting the breeze and so on. Then you started to wrestle me, and strip my shorts off. It was too much. I’ve held back too long. I’m going to give myself the pleasure I have denied myself for years.”
“Do you feel the same way about me, Steve? Have you ever really wanted a guy?” “No, you faggot!”, I snapped back.
He looked really shocked by this, as I think he thought there was some hope that I would want, him, too. He pushed his shorts to the floor, then threw his body on top of mine. I felt his wiry chest pushing into my back, and his erect cock thrusting into my ass crack. I started to twist and buck my body up and down, to try to throw him off. I screamed obscenities at him, as we struggled. Reaching down underneath me, he grabbed hold of my balls, and started to squeeze them until I cried out in pain.
“Lie still, if you don’t want to get hurt!”, he commanded. And as he continued to squeeze my balls, I realised I could do nothing else but comply.
“Now, up onto your knees, and press your shoulders into the floor!”
Again, I had to comply, and I knew my ass was now exposed to him. Then I felt something warm pushing into my anus. I tried to resist, but he pushed harder, and I started to experience an exquisite sort of pain as his cock head started to enter me. I was gasping and moaning, but there was nothing I could do. He continued to push, and now I was shouting out as his cock went deeper and deeper into me.
He started to rock backwards and forwards, and I was moaning in time to his thrusts as he slid in and out. It seemed to go on for ever, but then, with a sort of shudder, he collapsed down onto my back, and sensing it was all over, I too let my knees slide backwards, and lay there on my stomach, panting.
After the agony of his penetration and fucking of me, It actually felt kind of good to have his body on top of me, and the warmth of his cock inside me. He was making little moanings of pleasure, too, and we simply lay there for some time before he slowly withdrew from me.
He rolled off me, and I turned over to lie on my back. He then moved so he was half lying on top of me, with his arm thrown across my chest. I could see that tears were running down his cheeks.
“Steve, I’m sorry”, he said. “I’ve wanted to feel another man’s body for so long, that I just snapped. I’ve read about fucking another guy so many times on the Internet that I know I must have hurt you. You had a virgin ass, didn’t you, and I didn’t try to stretch you first. And I humped you completely dry, with no lube. Are you Ok?”
“Yes”, I replied angrily. “I thought you were going to be a real friend. But you just used me like I hear guys on this Programme are used all the time – casually fucked, without any choice in the matter. Christ, Seb, I’m really hurting: my ass feels as if it’s raw. It’s not just the physical pain, it’s the humiliation at being used simply for your pleasure.”
He looked into my eyes, and said “Well I know it’s no use being sorry, but I truly am. I really want a fuck buddy for a bit of fun at night, but in this town there’s no chance. When I saw you, especially with your fantastic body, I thought I could have you without any problems. But it was wrong of me to rape you like that.”, and he sort of sobbed, his head going down onto my chest in despair.
There was nothing I could do, with my arms chained tightly, and nothing more I could say. I simply lay there, until he picked himself up a bit. Then, to my utter amazement, he kissed me, full on the lips.
Of course I had kissed a lot of women in my time, but I had never had another guy do this to me. I thought I was going to be revolted, but it actually felt good, and as he continued to press his lips against mine and probe with his tongue, I found myself responding and soon our tongues were in each others mouths and we were sucking eagerly on each other.
He reached down and started to jack my cock, whilst continuing to kiss me, and the combination of our frenzied tongues, the heat of our naked bodies pressed against each other, and his hand stroking my cock soon caused me to cum, fountaining great spurts of jism all over us.
We were both covered in sweat now, and we lay there panting. Seb ran his fingers through some of my cum that was all over us, then slipped down my body to kneel between my legs. Gently lifting my legs up on to his shoulders, he leaned forward and used my own cum to lube my asshole, and then, not like before when it was a brutal, dry, rape, he slowly and gently inserted himself into me again, and fucked me for what seemed like hours, all the time looking down at me.
When he had cum again, he lay there on my chest and I wrapped my legs around his waist.
“Steve, what are we going to do now?”, he whispered.
“Do? What do you mean. Do you want to fuck me again, you stud?”
“No, Steve. I mean tomorrow. What are we going to say to the other guys on the site? What will you say if Mike or Jon ask you how you got on this weekend? I don’t want them to know that I’ve fucked you. You just can’t do things like that in this town, even to a criminal like you. I couldn’t ever go into a bar, or a restaurant, again if they thought I liked fucking men.”
“Look, Seb, I guess the best thing is to say nothing. You don’t want to, and I don’t want you to. If the other guys here know I can be fucked whenever they want (and I couldn’t easily stop them, whilst I’m on this Programme), they’ll be up my ass most of the time. I’ve seen them looking at me, and I don’t think most of them are as straight as you think they are, even though they’ve got wives and kids. I think most of the men in the world would like to go up another guy’s ass if they had the chance, and could do it without any fear of consequences. So the best thing for both of us would be to say nothing.”
Seb then got up, and to my surprise unlocked the cuffs around my wrists and stood there looking down at me. I rubbed my wrists to put a bit of circulation back in to them, but just lay there. I was in an inner turmoil. I had always been straight. I had always jeered at guys who had fancied other men. But I’d just been fucked – once brutally, but once sensually and slowly, with tenderness and love, and I had actually enjoyed it.
I sat up, and put my arms around Seb’s thighs as he stood there, reached my head up and gently kissed his cock. I was amazed that I could do this – I’d hardly ever touched another guy’s cock before, let alone put my lips to it, but it somehow felt right. I was surprised how warm and soft it was against my lips, “Come on”, I said, get down here again by the side of me. There’s a lot of the night left.”
When Jeff came along the next morning, he was a bit surprised to see me lying there completely unchained, and I think he could smell the reek of sex in the air. I had to endure a lot of ribbing from the other guys during the day, too, as they saw the scratches on my back and the teeth marks on my shoulders left from our subsequent passionate encounters.
For the rest of my time at the site Seb came each weekend, and I was his sex toy. He would kiss me, play with my nipples, and jack me off, and of course he fucked me over and over again. But I was never allowed to put my cock up his ass, even though I could rub it up and down his ass crack as we rolled around together enjoying the heat of each other’s bodies.
I had been “bought” by Jeff for only a few months, and my “contract” was coming to an end. But so was the work on the site, and both Seb and I knew our time was almost up.
I had talked to him about what I had heard of the sex parlours and pain palaces, and he had only vaguely heard rumours of those places himself – they were expensive, and he was only a labourer who was trying to save, after all. I guess they were mostly used by the fancy middle class bankers and lawyers in a place like Arkansas. One weekend as we lay in each other’s
arms and I was again wondering if I would be bought by one of those places next time, he went very silent. I thought something was up, so I kept pressing him to tell me what was wrong. But it turned out that he had been that week to one of each, as an experiment.
He thought he would burn some of his savings on seeing what those places were really like. He wouldn’t tell me much – I don’t really know whether he was embarrassed by them, or whether he was trying to spare me worries. He had really enjoyed fucking the guys in the sex parlour, and he had taken four guys on the one night – two singly, and two together to make a threesome: it had never occurred to me that if I was going to be a slave in such a place I would have to take part in that type of perversion. He had been astonished at how much sexual excitement he had felt as he had whipped a hunk in the pain palace, but he wouldn’t tell me what else he had done during his night there. Now he was worried about me, and my future, but we both knew that there was nothing either of us could do.
Two weeks later Jeff told me to get into his truck, and he drove me back to the auction house.
To be continued …
