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The Arkansas Programme (7)


As we drove ut of the site towards the Auction House, I was very worried – I’d actually enjoyed my time on Jeff’s site, and had had a lot of fun with the other guys swimming after work. And I had begun to look forward eagerly with my weekends with Seb – I loved to feel his tongue in my mouth and his cock up my ass, and the scratching of my smooth skin by his wiry hair as we thrashed around in passion. But I’d heard all these stories of the sex parlours and pain palaces, and even mild Seb had been to them to try them out and had told me something about them – could I bear a great succession of fat, middle-aged and old men fucking me?

Could I bring myself to suck a cock that was hidden underneath a beer belly, I wondered – after all, it was only likely to be the old and ugly that would need to go to a sex parlour as every other guy could simply get what he wanted in a gay bar in the city about 20 miles away. But I think it was the concept of a ”pain palace” that worried me most – Seb wouldn’t even hint about what he had done there, other than to say that he had got a sexual charge from “lightly” whipping the man he had bought for the night before fucking him, as that was the mildest of the tortures that was on offer.  If whipping was “mild”, what could the rest be?       I knew there was nothing I could do about it, though, so I just sat in Jeff’s pickup, in misery and with quite a lot of unpleasant anticipation.

On the other hand, I think Seb was actually glad that our relationship was ending. We’d both known it couldn’t last, and I think Seb was actually relieved I was going in some way – the other guys on the site had started to notice “something” in his behaviour towards me during the week, and he was constantly worried about being “found out” – in that town, he knew, he’d never get another job as the other guys wouldn’t consider working with a gay faggot.

The enormous mansions set in their park around the ornamental lake where I had spent so many evenings swimming with the other guys were now almost all complete, and it was only the finishing touches to the landscaping and so on that needed doing. As we drove off, Jeff saw the subcontractor who was erecting the fences around the back yards, and halted the pickup to have a word with him. He wound down his window, and shouted out “Hey, Carl, come over here a minute, will you?”

The figure who had been putting a large fence post into the ground stopped work, and started to jog towards us. “Carl is a great guy”, said Jeff. “He’s one of the only ones around here who really does a full day’s work.  He’s putting his son through a fancy school, and has great plans for him at one of those big Eastern colleges, and it’s all from working at his one-man fencing business.”

Carl was just over fix foot, like me, and was wearing only work boots and a brief pair of cut-offs. I guessed he was about 35, and he had those very stringy, hard muscles that guys only get from a long time spent in hard work – not at all like the ones from just working out at a gym. There wasn’t an ounce of fat to be seen from him, and his belly was flat and taught as he came towards us – that gets to be quite hard to achieve as you get older, as the human body naturally starts to thicken up around the waist however careful you are with eating, and with exercise.

Jeff started to give Carl instructions about the fences on the last property, and I could see Carl looking in thought the window at my naked body.

“That’s a good looking boy you have there”, Carl said to Jeff. “I hear he’s one of those prison slaves on the new Government Programme.”

“Yes”, Jeff replied. “I’ll be sad to lose him as he really is a great worker, not like most of the m around here.  I got him at a good price in the auction, as I knew most of the guys bidding for him from the sex parlours and pain palaces, and they dropped out as a favour to me. He won’t be so lucky later this week, though, as I think they’ll all be competing for him and he’ll go for a high price. Then they’ll have to really work him hard, to get back their investments – I don’t suppose his ass will ever cool down! If my other site was opening up sooner, I would have kept him on, but it will be about three months before I need hard muscle there – it’s not that his monthly rent is much, but I’m worried that if I just kept him chained up, idle, he’d go soft and then would be no use to anyone.”

All this time I just sat there with my head slightly bowed.  To hear the to men discussing me just as if I was a piece of property reminded me again of my true position in life now. I had begun to think of myself as a man again because that’s how the guys on the site had been treating me, but here I was being talked about just like a piece of machinery you would hire.

“Tell you what, Jeff – why don’t I take him on for a few months? It’s my busy season, and I sure could do with another pair of hands as there’s so much work with all the new building and remodelling. I don’t have time to go to the auction on Friday, and anyway I couldn’t afford the fancy prices – I’m sure you’re right about him going for a lot of money, looking at what I can see of his body – so why don’t you carry on paying the monthly hire fee and simply re-lease him to me, as a favour?”

“Sure, Carl. Always happy to oblige.  And I’ll throw in the work boots he’s wearing as a free gift for you!”, replied Jeff, then, turning to me “Ok, out you get, Steve. You’re slaving for Carl now. You’d better to continue to behave, because he’s a big tough guy and will beat the shit out of you if you give him any trouble.”

And that was that. No “thank you”, no “goodbye”, nothing – just “out you get”, and I had been transferred to the control of another man, just like that. No one had asked me if I wanted it, and none cared – my opinions simply didn’t matter, as I was a slave. You don’t, after all, ask a puppy dog if he wants new master if you’ve taken him to a kennels to be sold.

Carl was a man of few words, and we worked together all afternoon without him saying much other than to grunt work-related instructions at me. It wasn’t particularly hard work, but it did exercise me completely – there was a special narrow spade for digging post holes and this could be tough going in the hard earth;  the posts were heavy to carry from the back of his pickup, and the effort needed to hammer in the nails holding up all the individual pales of the fence actually made your arms and shoulders ache. But Carl did all this, and he never made me do anything he didn’t do himself – I wasn’t left with all the hardest or toughest jobs – it was a real sharing of effort.

About 5 p.m. We packed up the tools and went back towards the pickup. Carl then said “We’ve got a little ‘fix it’ job on the way home, and I’ll need you to help. But you can’t go in naked like that, as they’ll freak out. And they’re a bit particular, and won’t like to see me in these dirt and sweat-stained shorts.”

He rummaged around in the back of the cab, and came out holding a fresh pair of cut-offs. He then unbuttoned the ones he was wearing, and simply stepped out of them. He didn’t wear any undershorts, so were both standing there naked. He didn’t seem a bit concerned to be nude in the middle of the housing development, although in truth he was mostly hidden by the pickup body and the open door. He grinned at me and said “Any folks coming along now would wonder who was the master and who was the slave – we’re really quite alike to look at – except for those tattoos, of course – they give the game away a bit!”.

He bent down, pulled on the clean cut-offs, then handed me the dirty, sweaty ones he had just taken off, and said “Put these on.”

I started to tell him that I was not allowed clothes, and he got angry and snapped at me “Don’t get uppity with me, boy. We’ve worked together all afternoon, but that doesn’t give you any rights.  You do exactly as I tell you, immediately I tell you!  I know the rules about naked guys on your Programme, but I can’t risk my business with the rich folks who are my private clients – they’re mostly from the East Coast or West Coast, recently moved here, and they don’t understand our Arkansas ways. And most of the women would faint at the sight of a dick like yours!.”

So I bent down and pulled on his cut-offs, still warm of course from his body and damp, especially around the waist band, and along the ass seam where it had been pressed into his sweating ass as he worked. I‘d long ago lost my previous fastidiousness about things like that – another guy’s sweat or piss couldn’t hurt you, after all.

We drove for five or six miles, and pulled into the drive of one of the new neo-colonial mansions that seemed to be springing up everywhere. We started to add a couple of new panels to a fence he had obviously erected a few months before as it was slightly weathered, when the lady of the house came out to see us. She sat there at a pool-side table with a long cool drink in her thin hands with bright scarlet nails, watching us both work. We had finished the work when she went away, and came back with a drink for Carl, and I saw her hands linger on his as she handed it to him.

Carl was smiling at her, and said “I think my buddy would like something, too”.

“Why, Carl!”, the lady told him, “Even I can tell he’s one of those slaves from the Programme. I don’t want him drinking from my glasses. There’s a tap around the corner of the pool house, and he can drink from that. And why isn’t he naked, as I’ve heard they have to be? I know you’ve got nothing to be ashamed of ‘down there’ so it can’t be that you’re worried about me comparing him unfavourably with you!”

Carl grinned, and turning to me, said “The lady wants a good look at you – get out of those shorts.  I needn’t have bothered to allow you to dress after all.”

I was completely embarrassed – being naked on the site when you’re surrounded by guys is one thing. Having to strip off in front of a good looking lady, and being commanded to do so, rather than doing so willingly because you’re about to fuck, is another. I turned away from them, and dropped the cut-offs.  The lady shouted out “Turn around”, so I did, but I sort of held my hands in front of my cock and balls as I didn’t want her looking at them.

“Hands in the air, Steve”, Carl said to me, laughing now because he could see the problem I was having,  What could I do?  I had no choice, so I slowly raised my hands until they were level with my shoulders. But as Steve and the woman stood there looking at me, my cock rose, too, and I had a massive hard-on.

The woman turned to Carl and, moistening her lips with the tip of her tongue, said “Carl, honey, I need that special service again you gave me last time. Come indoors and discuss it, and let that poor boy go for a swim to cool off!”

They turned and went into the house, and I jumped into the pool – that’s a big mistake, when you have an erection, as the water slammed very hard against the underside of my cock!

Carl came out about an hour later, and he was doing up the fly of his cut-offs as he came through the door.

As we drove away Carl was flexing his shoulders against the back of the seat, and when he turned around a bit to reverse the pickup, I could see long nail marks stretching down his broad back. Seeing me looking at them, Carl said “She sure is a good lay. A lot of these fancy women around here just can’t wait to get a local stud in their beds. They’re usually disappointed, as the boys have no technique and it’s just a ‘fuck and go’, but I’m different as I have learned a lot in my life, and I can even talk a bit, afterwards.”

“ I’ve got no end of work around here because the women all recommend me to their friends, and you’d be amazed how many unnecessary fences have been erected in this area! The husbands don’t mind, I think, as they’re too busy in the office. They think their wives are busy landscaping their mini-estates, and, indeed that does happen – but it’s ‘the other’ the bitches want us workers in for, really.”

“I suppose I could let you dip your wick occasionally, but I don’t fancy a threesome and I wouldn’t want to be standing around waiting for you to finish fucking some bitch. So don’t get any false hopes just because you see our clients eyeing you up – it ain’t going to happen.”

We drove on, and swapped stories about various women we had had. I decided not to tell him about being fucked by Seb, though.

“Home” was a big log cabin off a long dirt trail high in the hills. When we drove up, I could see for miles through the surrounding hills and valleys, and there wasn’t another human habitation in sight. It was so remote and so isolated that Carl didn’t even bother to lock the door – we went in, and I saw a huge square room with a big fireplace, a sofa and a couple of easy chairs, and a big square scrubbed pine table with six chairs around it. There was a sink and a gas stove behind a half-height counter in one corner.

At the other end of the room was a big double bed, with white sheets and a coloured blanked strewn on it – it hadn’t been made that morning. Next to it were a couple of pine wardrobes, and these formed a sort of screen to a tiled area in the corner where I could see a bit of shower curtain hanging down – there was no door on this area, the only slight privacy being provided by wardrobes. Anyone sitting in the living area could not actually see into this tiled area, but it would be plainly visible to anyone in the bed.

“Welcome to your new home”, Carl said. “I sleep in that bed. You can curl up in a blanket anywhere on the floor. I don’t allow slaves on the furniture, so don’t let me catch you sprawling on that couch. Behind the wardrobes is the shower and the shitter – you keep that whole area immaculately clean; if I find it isn’t, you’ll be giving it a special cleaning, with your tongue!”

He then went over to the stove, and started to cook dinner. The smell was delicious, as some sort of rich stew bubbled.  Carl had got the sack of slave mush from Jeff before we left, and when his meal was ready he put out a big plate of the fragrant stew on the table for himself, and a bowl of the mush for me.  He devoured his stew ravenously – all that hard work does give you a real appetite – whilst I munched away at the slave mush.  But after a couple of minutes, he’d had his fill and pushed is half-eaten food towards me.

“You’ve passed the first test”, he said. “I‘ve tried that slave mush and I know it’s dire. You can feed with me as it’s no more problem to cook for two than it is for one, but I wanted to make sure you didn’t ask for it, or presume it would be given to you. Having proper food is a privilege for a slave, not a right, and you properly waited for your master to offer it to you.”

In my former life I’d have been squeamish about eating food from a plate already used by someone else, and using the fork that had already been in their mouth. But I had long lost any such silly inhibitions, and gratefully took the plate from Carl and forked the delicious stew into my mouth.

After dinner I was told to clean up the place a bit, whilst Carl sat on the sofa and read. There was a radio in the cabin, but no TV, but Carl didn’t turn it on – he sat reading a book from one of the well-stocked bookshelves that lined the walls. When I had finished my chores, I stood there in front of Carl and he indicated that I could sit on the floor.

“Good again”, he said “I like to see a slave boy wait to be allowed to sit in his master’s presence. I think you and I are going to get on. Oh, and whilst I think about it, don’t ever let me see you reading any of these books – it’s not right for a slave to have any enjoyment like that.”

So I just sat on the bare wood floor for about an hour, my back pressed against the arm of the couch, whilst Carl continued to read. Finally he snapped his book shut, and said “Time for bed”.

He got up, wandered to the other end of the room ,dropped his cut-offs and went naked into the shower area. I heard a heavy torrent of piss hitting the water in the lavatory, then the sound of a toothbrush, and he came out, lay on the bed, and pulled the sheet and blankets over him.

“Get in there and piss and crap now”, he said, “As I don’t like to be disturbed during the night. There’s also a new toothbrush – use that, as you’re now eating proper food again, rather than the slave mush, you’ll start to get dental problems again otherwise.”

So I did as I was told, and I could see him watching me perform all these intimate acts through the opening. I’d got used to peeing and crapping in front of my fellow slaves on the road gang, but somehow this was different – it was “one on one”. And I don’t think I’d ever cleaned my teeth, naked, in front of another guy before. I was acutely conscious of the way that my cock swung from side to side as it mimicked the motion of my arm.

I went back into the bedroom, and Carl told me to take one of the blankets off the bed as my covering.  I rolled myself in it, and lay down on the wood floor, parallel to the bed.

Carl turned out the light, and I thought we would be going to sleep.  By the moonlight that came in through the window, however (there were no curtains anywhere in the cabin, as we were so remote from anywhere else), I saw Carl reach out from the bed and take a bit of cloth out of the drawer of the bedside cabinet. A moment later there were the unmistakable sounds of someone jacking off – that faint “slapping” of the hand against the cock, the heavy breathing, followed soon by the little groan of pleasure as Carl obviously shot his load.  He’d clearly had sex with the woman that afternoon, and I was a bit surprised that he needed to jack off so soon afterwards.

He simply dropped his cum-rag on the floor when he’d finished and had cleaned his cock, and I could see (and smell) it about a metre from my head.

I’d got a raging hard on, but I didn’t know what to do – he’d said “don’t disturb my sleep”, so I could hardly get up and go and get some toilet tissue. I knew he wouldn’t want me to get cum on his blanket, and I didn’t think I could actually catch all my cum in my hand this time as I kn ew I had an enormous load waiting to fly. So I just lay there and prayed I wouldn’t have a “wet dream” that night. But the day’s work, the good food, and the sheer relief at being saved again from the sex parlours and pain palaces, soon put me to sleep.

I woke as the dawn rose, but Carl was already awake – he had reached out, picked up his cum-rag, and was evidently just finished jerking himself off again. He finished, put the cum-rag

back intake bedside cabinet, then lightly left out of bed, his cock already softened. I wasn’t like that, because he reached down and stripped the blanket off me revealing my huge erection.

“Boy, you need to do something about that!”, he said. “I need you in good condition to work hard, and a slave that’s constantly thinking about his cock isn’t focussed on his work.”

He went into the bathroom area and came out with a few squares of toilet tissue. Then he told me to crouch down so I was hunkered with my thighs straight and my toes bent underneath me, and spread my legs. “Right – now I’ve got a good view, jerk off”, he commanded.

Masturbation was always something I had done in secret in my former life – I hadn’t wanted my mom or dad to know I was doing it, like most young guys (although they would have known – all boys do it as they’re growing up, after all). And once I was married I only ever jerked off when my wife was denying me sex for some reason or another – and then I went into the bathroom and locked the door before starting (again think all married men are like this). Up until now as a slave I’d had to jerk off in “public, but it was always as private as we could make it – in the bunks at night, for example, never in the middle of the bunk room.

But here Carl was watching me closely. If I hadn’t been so desperate for relief, and if my balls had not been aching, I think my erection would have vanished under his gaze. But as it was, only four or five strokes caused six great spurts of cum to leap out. I managed to catch the first two in the toilet tissue, but the other four spurted across the wooden floor.

Carl laughed at this, and said I sure had a lot of power there. He commanded me to jerk off every morning and every night in future – oh, and as “punishment”, to get down on my hands and knees and lick the floor clean of my cum. I knew the taste of my own cum of course, but lapping it up from the palm of your hand is one thing, and being forced to crawl across the floor licking it up, is another.  I was deeply humiliated as I crawled away from Carl, especially as I knew that on my knees, with my head pressed to the floor so I could lick, he could see my ass and anus completely exposed. Would he be able to tell that Seb had been using it regularly, I wondered?  I got that horrible feeling as a deep flush spreads all over your body – there’s nothing you can do about it, and no way of stopping it.

Our life settled into a routine – every morning I jerked off, watched by Carl, then we worked all day on one of his projects. We split the work equally, and other than the fact that I was totally naked when working on a proper site (although in cut-offs when at a private house), most people probably couldn’t tell the difference between us. Every evening he fed me well, and I got to like just sitting there doing nothing, whilst he read away the evenings.

Carl never attempted to use me sexually – with his own jerking off twice a day, and the endless succession of women clients he bedded, he seemed completely satisfied. And I couldn’t even imagine that he was even the slightest bit gay.

We usually worked all day Saturday, but Sunday was definitely a day of rest – Carl didn’t go to church, so most Sundays we did chores around the cabin, or went to one of the many nearby lakes for a swim.

Actually, it was a good life.

After I had been there for about six weeks, one day after work we did not head for home but drove instead into the centre of the town. We parked outside the bus station, and sat there, waiting.

“Billy’s bus gets in at six thirty”, Carl said, “so there’s no point in driving out to the cabin.” “Billy?”

“He’s my son. A fine lad. He’s fifteen now, and coming home from school for the holidays. I t’s his sixteenth birthday next week, and we’ll fix a special celebration for him.”

“I didn’t know you had a son!”

“Yup. His mom wanted to take him from me when we split up, but a son needs a father, and the wimp she went off with would not have brought him up properly. I’ve had sole charge of him since he was six, and he’s been away at school now for four years – there’s no good schools around here, and he needs the best education I can get for him if he’s going to do well in the world we’re creating. That’s why I work so hard – the fees at those fancy schools are huge. It’s all right if you’re a corporate lawyer, or even a dentist, but a poor country boy like me had to work his nuts off just to keep up.”

I thought he was being slightly ironic in this, but didn’t have time to ask about it as a bus drew in.

Telling me to stay where I was, Carl leapt out of the driving seat and went into the Bus Station. I was snaked, of course, but the passers by couldn’t tell as the pickup was a real “country” one , high off the ground on special tyres, and my body was mostly above their sight line.

Carl came out a few minutes later with his arm around a tall, well-build, blond fifteen year old. It’s amazing how kids come on these days – this one looked much older than fifteen and I guessed he was already poking his girl friends, and had been for some time. He had a couple of big canvas holdalls, and both Carl and he were carrying one. He was just in jeans and a white T-shirt (that emphasised his blond hair and lightly tanned skin), and wore no socks in his trainers. He carried a jeans jacket casually slung over his shoulder.

They slung the bags in the back of the pickup, then Carl opened the driver’s door and Billy got in and slid across the bench seat towards me. Carl got in, and said “Billy – this is the slave I’ve told you about, Steve. He’s a good worker, and I try to treat him right. But he is a slave, and I don’t want you forgetting it. He does things for you, and you do not do things for him! He’s not a guest, he’s not a servant, he’s a slave, and you need to remember that.”

“Hi”, said Billy, looking at me. “Hi”, I replied.

“Jesus, dad, it’s hot in this cab. I know you’re always going on about money, but couldn’t you at least run to air! It’s Ok for you just in those shorts, and the slave here is comfortable totally naked, but I’m burning up in these jeans and T-shirt!”

“Well, son, you know what to do! If your clothes are too hot for you, take them off!”

Billy grinned, and reached down and pulled his T-shirt over his head. I saw he had neat tufts of dark blond hair in his pits as he did this, and there was that sweetish smell of almost-st ale boy sweat as his pits were turned towards me. He then kicked of his trainers, opened the belt of his jeans, and wriggled them down over his slim hips and down his legs.

He had a bit of thin hair on his chest, but just below his well-developed pecs a line of darker blond, almost brown, hair started that led around his navel (Set in the middle of a hard, firm belly), to disappear beneath the waist band of his pale blue boxer shorts that were now revealed.

He reached into the open fly of his boxers and “settled” his cock and balls into a more comfortable position.

“Gee, that’s better, dad”, he said. “It’s great to be home!”

Carl put the pickup into gear, and we sped back up into the hills towards the cabin.

Back at the cabin, Billy ran around eagerly in his thin boxers, examining everything. Then, whilst Carl cooked dinner, he unpacked his holdalls into the wardrobes – he seemed to share the space equally with Carl, and their stuff was all mixed up together, with his shirts mixed in with Carl’s, and so on.

We ate dinner together, and Billy chattered on incessantly about school, the professors, his friends there, and the work he was doing. Carl was obviously delighted. Billy almost totally ignored me, and Carl paid me no attention that night, either – each was so interested in hearing about the other’s life during the previous months.

I was wondering where Billy’s bed was, but after dinner when Carl had got into the bed as usual, I found out: Billy came out of the shower area, totally naked, and climbed into the double bed beside Carl. I though Carl would move over so that they each had one half of the bed, but instead, he sort of opened his arms so that Billy could lie right up against him. He wrapped his arms around Billy, and I could see their bodies moving under the sheet and their legs intertwine as they shuffled around to get a mutually convenient position.

As I came out of the shower area myself, I saw they were kissing each other, deeply and passionately. I wondered how Carl was going to cope without his nightly jerk-off and use of his cum-rag – but it was obvious, really – after a few more minutes of writhing around together, I heard the unmistakable sounds of jerking-off. Carl jerked off Billy, then Billy jerked off Carl.

They didn’t bother with the cum-rag, and the thin sheet above them had unmistakable wet streaks of cum showing through it.

“Thanks, dad”, I heard Billy whisper a few moments later. “I haven’t had it like that since the last time here. The other guys at school just don’t know how to really get me to the point of cumming and hold me there for a couple of minutes, like you do. It’s just a straight ‘rub, rub, rub…’ until you cum, and it’s not nearly so exciting.”

“Well they haven’t had the experience of you that I have. After all, if I haven’t got it right now after four years, I never will. And I have trained you since that first time you had a wet dream, so we both know what we’re doing! But I’m glad you’re back, son. Fucking the old

five-fingered widow every night isn’t as good as having you do it for me – although I’ve had lot of women lately, too. Now let’s get some sleep – I’ve got a long day tomorrow. One thing, though – get yourself some pumice stone and rub your hand tomorrow – I think you’ve been playing too much tennis because you’ve got a ridge of hard skin across it, and it catches on my cock head. It’s not exactly unpleasant, but it’s not the Billy I’m used to.”

The following morning when they woke, Carl and Billy had another session of mutual jerking off and kissing, then father and son showered together and put on almost identical cut-offs. I’d got used to having Carl watch me in the morning, especially when I had to jerk myself off, but Billy was now also part of the “audience”. As I crouched in front of the father and son, desperately jacking myself, I felt such shame as I had never known before. It’s bad enough being made to spew your jism in front of an older guy, but Billy was still a lad and I didn’t think it was right to have him watch a stud like me in that way.

We all three got in the front of the pickup after breakfast, and Carl dropped Billy off in the town centre before he and I went on to work. “You’re quiet this morning”, he said to me. “I usually get tired of your chatter on the way in to town, and you’ve hardly said a word today.”

I sat there, grimly silent. But I knew I had to say something, even if I was subsequently punished.  So I blurted out “It’s not right what you do with Billy!”

Carl almost caused the pickup to veer off the road, he was so surprised. “What do you mean?”, he snapped back.

“Look, boss, jerking off your own l5 year old son isn’t right. Having him jerk you off isn’t right. It’s never right between a father and a son, and especially not when the boy’s still only l5!”

Carl stopped the pickup, and turned to face me. “Don’t talk about things you know nothing about! You haven’t even got a son old enough to shoot his jism yet, and you probably never will have. Who do you think is the best person to teach a boy about sex? Some stranger who he meets casually one day, or someone that knows and loves him? I wouldn’t do anything to hurt Billy – he’s my only son, and my pride and joy. I carefully taught him all he knows about sex, gradually and gently, as soon as he was old enough. And around here, we go by the body clock – when a boy can produce a good load, he’s old enough to be taught about it properly!”

“I love Billy dearly, and he loves and respects me, as a boy should love his father.  He’s not being harmed by our sex – it’s good for him. Rather than being furtive about sex, and sniggering at dirty magazines, he’s always been able to have a frank and open discussion about anything with me. My daddy initiated me at that age, and it hasn’t done me any harm! And grandpappy taught him. And I hope Billy will make love with his sons, too.”

“Having learned about sex right from the moment he was old enough, it’s made him properly mature. He went away to school two years ago, and was able to cope immediately with all the other boys – I suspect he knew a great deal more than even the older ones did! There was no chance that some dirty old schoolmaster could seduce him – Billy knows what it’s all about, and was able to bond with his fellows, as he knows there’s always a loving older guy waiting at home for him.”

“He won’t rush into sex with the first girl that comes along, either. Because he has all the relief he needs at home, he can take his time and pick and choose a proper companion for the rest of his life, someone with whom he’ll be happy to breed. And because he’s had such a good start, he’ll be able to deal with all the men he’ll want to fuck quietly and discretely, so he’ll have a happy marriage with no scandal to disturb his wife. He’ll want sons, so he can pass on this precious thread to them – it’s what makes the men in our family, and in a lot of other families here in the woods, special.”

“You know nothing about it, so I’ll tell you again, shut the fuck up on the subject.”

And with that he crashed the pickup into gear, and we drove off to the site where we were working.

That night the whole scene was repeated – Carl and Billy had joyous, noisy sex with each other whilst I lay there with a hard-on. And in the morning, they watched as I jerked off. I had just started when Billy crouched down in front of me, held my jerking wrist to cause me to stop for a moment, then reached down with his other hand and cradled my cock in it.   He peered down and used his thumb to push my foreskin back over my cock head, which emerged pink and moist. He then gently eased back the foreskin totally so it was all behind the fretum ring, then started to slide it up and down rapidly off and on my cock head.

Circumcised guys, like Carl and Billy, just can’t imagine how sensitive a cock head can be that’s not used to being fiddled with – safely behind the foreskin, it’s not used to having even the roughness of clothes scraped over it. So to have someone suddenly start to “massage” it quite roughly is actually painful, and I sort of jerked back.

Billy laughed, and said to Carl “He’s just like one of the few football jocks at school who isn’t circumcised. I saw this guy in the showers – he’s senior, so we only get to shower at the same time occasionally – and I was so interested in his foreskin that I went along to his room that night and asked if I could play with it. He was a bit surprised, as a lot of the guys are not as open about sex as we are here, but I think he liked the look of me, so he allowed me in. It was really interesting fiddling with his foreskin, and sucking him off – his cock head was like Steve’s, moist before you even start. But I did find out one thing – after he had cum and I was still sucking his jism down, I carried on massaging him with my tongue. He was shouting out with pain, and I thought I had done something wrong and hurt him seriously – but he told me afterwards that it was really the most exquisite pleasure as, like most uncircumcised guys apparently, their cock heads are even more sensitive after they have cum. He couldn’t believe that I would go on sucking, as you’ve taught me, after he’d shot his load – it just goes to show how useful it is to have these lessons in pleasuring men.”

“I wanted to see if Steve here is similarly sensitive. Judging from the way he just squirmed even before he’s cum, I’ll guess that he is.”

Then, addressing me rather than Carl, he continued “Tomorrow morning, Steve, don’t jerk yourself off until I tell you. I want to watch carefully, then, when you’ve spurted, I’m going to jerk you myself and see how much pleasure I can give you.”

All day as I worked I worried about this – I didn’t want a young boy jerking me off, and, anyway, I thought that he might decide to suck me. But what could I do? It was no use complaining to Carl, as he was pleased that Billy was experimenting in this way!

But I was “saved”, because that night, as we were about to eat, another pickup drove up. Carl glanced out of the window and said “Hey, it’s Uncle Brett – I called him and told him you were home.”

The door opened, and a young guy -about 28 or 29 I should think, looking something like Carl but not quite so muscular, came in. He went up to Carl and embraced him, and the two brothers kissed each other deeply. The Brett went over to Billy, hugged him and said “So, back from school. Tired of all those football jocks yet – still got time for your uncle?”

Billy didn’t say anything, but simply leaned over and kissed his uncle full on the lips, As he did so, be brought his hand down and was cupping his uncle’s cock and balls through the front of the young man’s jeans. “That answer your question?”, he asked his uncle.

Carl pointed out to Brett that I was just his work slave, and nothing to do with the family, and Brett basically ignored me for the rest of the evening. What sort of life did these people have, I wondered, when they could come into a room and find a tattooed naked man sitting there, be told he was a slave, and then treat this so causally as if it was the most normal thing in the world?

When it got to be bed time, Carl said “You are staying, aren’t you, Brett?”

“Sure thing, Carl. You and I haven’t fucked for a long time, and I sure do miss my old brother. And with Billy back, there’s a bit of variety. I haven’t had a boy of his age for some time.”

They all three got into the bed, and I could hear all kinds of sighing, licking, slurping and general sex noises. After about an hour and a half, the noise stopped and I saw that all three were lying on their backs, with Billy in the middle, his arms at right angles to his body, and with Carl’s head using one arm as a pillow, and Brett the other. They were all breathing deeply, and were obviously happy.

Brett said “You know, Carl, we’re a lucky family really. You’re 36, I’m 28, and Billy here is going on l6, but we all get on so well. I only hope my little Chet, when he gets to be Billy’s age, will be as good to his uncles as Billy is to me.”

“How is Chet getting on?”, asked Carl. “You could have brought him with you – he doesn’t see enough of his uncle and cousin.”

“Well, he’s going to be a sturdy fellow. Even at 8, his body is coming along nicely. I’ve just insisted that Marion sleep in a separate room so that Chet can share my bed – it’s never too soon for these boys to get to appreciate their fathers. Even if he matures early like Billy here, I’ve got some time to wait before we can play together properly, but as a treat I do let him hold with my cock and climax me occasionally – he thinks it’s great to be able to feel daddy’s cock, and keeps asking me when his will be hairy and go hard!”

“Are you going to breed with Marion again, uncle Brett, or is Chet going to be an only son like me?  I’ve always wanted a brother, as I see how much fun it is for you, dad and uncle Joey.”

“Well, Billy, I don’t know. Marion and I still screw once or twice a week, but she’s taking oral contraceptives and had told me she doesn’t want another child. She’s an inconsiderate bitch, really – thinks only of her convenience, and not what I want. But I have been thinking that it would be good to have a couple more kids, and I’m going to see Doc Williams next week to switch her contraceptive prescription for some harmless sugar pills – then we’ll just let nature take its course!”

Lying there wrapped in my blanket I felt really lonely – I’d never had a dad or a brother with whom I could discuss things like that so openly and freely.

On Saturday morning there was a change in our normal routine – instead of setting out for work, Carl took a long time to shave carefully, and hurried Billy along to find some “nice” clothes as they were going off to Carl’s dad’s place for the day.

“Is Steve coming too, dad?”, Billy asked.

“Yes. You know grandpappy likes to look over nice pieces of man flesh, and they don’t come much nicer than Steve! But I think he’s looking after himself well these days, though – he went to the auctions a couple of months ago and bought himself a young slave boy, and I hear he’s fucking away like a stoat. You know, Billy, you think grandpappy is ‘old’, but he’s only 55. He’s got another twenty years of fucking left in him.”

Carl and Billy had dressed in shorts and shirts for the day. Billy wore his ”conventionally”, but Carl had the tails out, all the buttons undone, and the tails knotted in the front so that his muscled midriff was exposed and you could also just see his nips peeking out at the sides.

We drove for about an hour and a half, and I thought there must be some mistake when we drove into the drive of a truly enormous mansion – not one of the new “mini mansions” where we had been working in the gardens, but a real old-style big plantation house with tall white columns running along the front, the whole height of its three stories. I guessed there must be at least 20 bedrooms in the place, and I supposed that Carl’s father was some sort of servant here.

But Carl made no move to go around the back when we drove up, and stopped his dirty old pickup behind a huge Mercedes which was sparkling in the sunshine immediately outside the main door.

We all got out, and Carl bounded up the vast flight of steps up to the entrance, and without ringing or anything pushed open the huge double doors so we could all go into the hall.  It was a full-height space, with a majestic staircase rising straight ahead of us. There was marble on the floor, and I felt its coolness beneath my naked feet.  Once again, I felt humiliated and ashamed of my nakedness – it was jut about Ok out there in the deep woods, but in this elegant mansion, I felt completely out of place.

We stood there a moment and then big double doors opened and a vigorous, virile-looking man with slightly greying hair bounded towards us. The family resemblance was unmistakable, and he embraced and deep-kissed Carl, then Billy.

“Hi, dad”, Carl said. “How’s things?”

“Just fine, as ever, Carl. And they’d be even better if you gave up that stupid life you lead and came back and rejoined the family business.”

“Look, dad, we’ve come here for Billy’s birthday party. If you’re going to start all that ‘family business’ crap, we’re leaving straight away. You know my views – I only ever wanted to be independent, totally independent. I may not make much money, but there’s enough to pay for Billy’s schooling in the East, and I can tell you right now that I won’t be touching his trust fund, or mine either, to pay for him to go to Harvard, or MIT, or wherever he wants to go.  Money in the family has a great potential for corrupting young men, and I wanted to make my own way without your help!  And I think I’ve succeeded – you always like to talk to me when I come here, whereas I notice that you seem bored with Brett and Joey, although of course you see them more often, at those fancy offices of the business’s.”

“All right, son, calm down. You always were the most excitable one! Yes, I do admire you for going your own way. But I wish it just made you a bit more money – with your education, you should be working in Merchant Banking in New York, or starting one of those ‘dot com’ companies, or something.”

“Ok, dad. Here’s the last word. Money isn’t what it’s all about. I like a quiet life in the woods, with my son. If I wanted money, all I’d have to do is call the Trustees, and it would arrive.  I don’t want a high -pressure life in business – if I was in a bank in Manhattan, would I have a body like this? Would I be as fit? Would I live as long, with all the stress? So let’s just drop it, shall we?”

Carl’s father shrugged slightly, but he had a half smile on his face. Then he saw me, and said “Is this your new work slave, Carl? A handsome piece of man flesh! Are you fucking him?”

“No, daddy. I don’t believe in mixing work and pleasure. This one works alongside me, and when I want a good fuck, I go to one of the pleasure parlours – if I’ve made enough that week, that is – their prices seem to be going up much faster than inflation.”

“Yes, Carl. First rule of economics – supply and demand! There are so few really good looking, white slaves in the Programme these days, and with all the business and so on relocating here, the demand is spiraling upwards. All those executives get a taste for casual, well-arranged man sex when they’re down here looking for a house and so on, then they continue with it once their families have actually moved.  Starting up the chain of sex parlours and pain palaces was one of the best spin-offs from the family Company that we ever did!”

The old man approached me, and snapped “Hands behind your head! Display!”

When he saw that I didn’t know what to do, he said “Carl, didn’t you even teach this slave the ‘display’ and ‘rest’ positions?”.

Carl shook his head, so the old man continued to me “Feet a metre apart. Hands clasped behind your neck. Look down at the floor at a point about a metre in front of you. That’s ‘display’, so you’re properly exposed.  Now, ‘display’.”

I moved as he had indicated, and then the man came and started to run his hands all over me. He probed my biceps with his strong fingers, tweaked my nipples to see how I responded to a little pain, ran his hands down ‘counting’ my ribs on my body, then reached behind to grasp my ass and try out the power of my muscles there by trying to close his fingers over a handful.

Then he dropped to a crouch, and ran his hands up and down my calves and thighs. Finally, and most humiliatingly, he hefted my balls in the palm of his hand, and pushed back my foreskin to get a proper look at my cock head. Rising to his feet, he lifted my chin, then opened my mouth to have a good look inside.

It was just as if I was some sort of prize animal that was being put up for sale. Not a word was spoken, no permission was asked – just that brutal exploration of my body. It was obvious that he had done it many times before, to many slaves – his hands were so confident at probing me, so confident that they would not meet resistance:  he was a truly experienced slave handler.

“Nice one, Carl. You’re getting to be a good judge of man flesh as you get older. This one’s a good worker, I’ll bet. And he’s got a sensitive mouth – and a nice smile – so you could have him sort of ‘dual purpose’, to pleasure you too!”

Carl clearly didn’t want to say that he hadn’t exactly selected me, just happened to ‘find’ me, by chance, as I think he secretly wanted his father’s praise. But he didn’t need to say anything, as the old man turned and said “Come on – the rest of the men are out at the pool.”

We followed Carl’s father through the house, and my feet sank into the luxurious carpets as we went through room after room. It was actually cold on my bare flesh in the fierce air conditioning, and I was glad when we emerged onto a terrace, in front of which was a sparkling blue swimming pool.

Carl’s dad, Carl and Billy all started to strip off their clothes as they walked towards the pool, leaving them lying in a trail behind them, and they all dived in together. I just stood there ,and observed the scene: there were two or three other guys on the other side of the pool, all totally naked, sitting on sun loungers and at tables with sun shades over them. A huge table, covered in a white linen cloth, glittered with silver, crystal and china, and was clearly set up for a big buffer party.

The three generations of men climbed out of the pool, and greeted the other men – there was a lot of affectionate deep kissing amongst them, and some friendly fondling of Carl and Billy’s cocks. Carl told me to come over to the other side of the pool, and I saw that one of the men was Brett, and I deduced that the other was the third brother, Joey.

Eight year old Chet was near Brett, and three other guys there were one of Carl’s uncles, and a couple of cousins in their twenties and thirties.

I stood there, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Carl was a kind guy basically, though, and said “Steve – now we’re all out of the pool, you can swim if you want to”. I was glad to be able to dive in, not just because it was very hot and the pool was so inviting, but because it gave me an “out” from the family party. I raced up and down, reveling in the feel of the water on my body, but there’s only so much time even very athletic guys like me can actually swim for, so I hauled myself out, and sat quietly on the edge of the pool, just dangling my legs in the water.

Carl’s dad was talking to him, and I heard him say “My new boy is just what I needed. I saw him at the auctions recently, and he’d been pretty badly treated by one of the clients in a sex parlour so they were throwing him back to be sold down the chain – I guess that client had to pay a big penalty for his night’s fun, and if he wants to beat up a man, he’ll go to one of the pain palaces next time.”

“I got him very cheap, because he really was battered and bruised. But a month later, you’d never know – except that he’s a bit nervous if anyone raises a hand too near him! He suits my purposes exactly – he’s medium height, medium build, sort of ‘compact’, but with nice muscles – that initial training in the road gangs does wonders for these boys, I think. Of course he was no longer a virgin, but you can’t have everything! On the whole I prefer the exotic, uncircumcised look like your slave Steve over there – but you can’t have everything! I wish they used this ‘Programme’ system in Europe, where so many more of the men are left uncut at birth.”

“I’ve bought his contract for five years, it was so cheap, by which time he’ll have worked out his sentence and will be free to go at the end of that time.  He’s been pathetically grateful, really.

But he’s terrific in bed – he has a real spirit and is very inventive when he’s in sexual heat, and the one feature I didn’t mention is his cock – it’s a really sturdy, thick one, and with his build, he can keep it thrusting for hours.”

“But you can see for yourself – here he comes now”.

I looked around, too, and there was my old comrade Dave from the auction and road gang. He was a bit more browned than I remembered, but he still had the cute trail of hair across his belly, but a smooth chest, and small, sharply protruding tits.

He rushed over and said “Steve! What are you doing here?” “Ah, you two know each other, do you?” Said Carl.

So with their permission, I told them about our enslavement, auction, and life on the road gang. They were all fascinated by the story, and when I had finished, it was almost dinner time.

We passed the afternoon in eating, swimming, and talking. Dave and I had a lot to catch up on, and he basically told me what Carl’s father had said – he was now the old man’s sex toy, but, as he pointed out, the guy was only 55 and had a better body than most men half his age, so it was a lot of fun really.

He’d seen Jim being loaded into a van to take him to a stud farm, and had heard that Mitch was indeed at a pain parlour. Normally the slaves only lasted there for a month or so, as the clients who were heavily into SM liked a fresh stock of new flesh. But  Steve’s marine training had made him so tough, and so resistant to pain, that they couldn’t break him and so he was still serving there.

Jim told me that Carl’s family owned – totally owned – the major bank in the State, which had been founded three generations ago by their great great grandfather. They were fabulously wealthy, the more so since they co-operated with the government and were the concessionaires for the slave auctions, and ran the sex parlours and pain palaces – it really was a licence to print money.

All the brothers and cousins worked in the Bank or its various offshoots, except Carl. Following some disagreement with his father, Carl had gone his own way. He still was a major shareholder, but chose to take no income. Most of the family couldn’t understand him at all, and wanted to get one of the slave masters to “re-educate” him, But his father had some sort of understanding with Carl, and they had agreed to live and let live. Carl only rarely came to the house and, Jim said, he thought the old man missed his oldest son.

The party proper started at 7 p.m. All the men I had met that afternoon were now dressed in smart casual wear (except, or course, Carl, who was still different). They were joined by the wives, girl friends, sisters and so on, all of whom were much more expensively and elegantly dressed, with lots of gold and diamonds in evidence. Only Dave and I were naked, but the women didn’t seem to notice – I guess they were so rich they were used to having slaves around the house.

The dinner was very formal, with many courses and a lot of wine. Dave and I did not sit at the table, of course, but sat next to each other in a corner of the room. It was good to be next to an old mate again, and we pressed our bodies closer in that amiable, non-sexual companionship that only old men friends can truly manage.

At the end of the dinner, there were speeches by most of the men welcoming Billy to “the clan”, culminating in a really good one by Carl, when he said how proud he was of his son and how he welcomed him to full manhood that day. “Billy and I have of course been close ever since he first matured sexually”, Carl said, “And I know that he has a deep fondness for dad here, his uncles, and cousins, whose bodies he has enjoyed and who have enjoyed him. Since he went away to school, he has experimented with a number of guys his own age, but tonight he gets the traditional present we give all our sons on their sixteenth birthday. I want you to raise your glasses and toast Billy’s success tonight, in the hope that it will be the start of a life that is richly fulfilled with all the pleasures of the flesh that any of us could want. I give you… Billy!”

All the diners leapt to their feet, and toasted Billy, and the dinner broke up. I was wondering what this fabulous present was – nothing was handed over, but everyone seemed to know what it was. Dave didn’t know, either, so we stood around, wondering what was going to happen next.

Carl then came over, with his arm around Billy’s shoulder, and said we were all staying the night of course as he couldn’t possibly drive home after all that drink. So we climbed the stairs together, and I assumed we would be sharing a room as we usually did at the cabin.

But when we entered the huge bedroom which was furnished in a very modern style with shiny steel bed frames, crisp white sheets, and silver blinds at the window, there was a change from the usual routine.

“Go and piss and crap, Steve”, Carl commanded (I usually did this after the two others), “Whilst I speak to Billy”.

So I did, and for good measure had a quick shower in the biggest, best shower I have ever used

  • it was a curved glass cylinder, with enormous quantities of water to douche over me. I towelled my body dry on one of the luxurious pure white towels, then dropped it and walked back into the main room, using a small towel to dry my hair as I went. I’d long since overcome any embarrassment at nudity in front of Carl and Billy, and I was even semi-erect as I walked in.

“Ok, Steve, on the bed”, Carl commanded, and I went and lay on the crisp white sheets. What was going on?  I usually had to sleep on the floor.

Carl came over and, before I could properly see what was happening, used two steel handcuffs to cuff my wrists together to the metal bed head. There was some play in them, so I could easily move around, but I couldn’t lower my hands from above my head.

Carl stood in front of Billy and said “Right, son. You’re a man now, and Steve is the traditional present to you from me on your l6th birthday. Up until now, you’ve only had family members play with you sexually, and you’ve never experienced the joy of fucking, or of having a man up your ass. This is your night to experiment – you’ve done everything else sexually, but we deliberately don’t let our sons fuck, or fuck our sons, until their sixteenth birthday.”

“It would be difficult for you to really try things out properly the first time with me or your uncles, as we all know each other too well and we don’t want you to be embarrassed if your fucking is not as good as everything else you’ve learned. But Steve here is just a piece of slave flesh who will be going back to the auction house soon, so it doesn’t matter how you perform.”

“Take the time to really get to know how to fuck his ass – I’ve seen it often enough to know it’s a really good, deep one, and I have deliberately not fucked him myself as I wanted him to be in ‘near virgin’ condition for you. And then, if you want, have him fuck you: most of us don’t like a man’s cock up our asses the first time as the initial penetrations can be painful, so don’t despair – have him do it several times, and you’ll find it more and more fun each time.”

“You’ve got all night, and as much of tomorrow morning as you want, so there’s no hurry. Dad wants him and us three brothers to have a bit of an orgy tonight, and he’s got a couple of the brothers-in-law lined up too, I think, so I’ll be pretty tired and will sleep in late in the morning.”

“Any questions before I go?” “No, dad. And…. Thanks!”.

“Good night then, son – you’re as self confident as ever, I see. But remember that what you’ve got bucking under you is not one of those lads from school, or one of your uncles – Steve is a big, tough, sexually-charged male in the prime of life. BE CAREFUL! And if he gets too much trouble, take that box on the bedside table and press it anywhere against his skin – it’s a stun gun, and it will knock him cold.”

And so saying, Carl left. Billy went into the bathroom, and I heard his stream of piss hit the lavatory, then he came back in, naked, and erect.

“So… My first night with a real man. My first night up a guy’s ass. You’re in for a good time, Steve – did you know that men are most virile at age l6? They can come harder and longer, and more often, at my age than at any other?

I lay there as he approached me. Could there be worse humiliation than this? Bought, as I now saw, as a birthday present for a l6-year old, to get his sex life off to a good start.

To be continued …

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