Date: Fri, 13 Jan 2006 00:44:46 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Someone Has To Do It, Part Ten

Someone Has To Do It

By Pete Brown        petebrownuk @ yahoo.com


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


Part  10

I think even Rob saw he'd gone too far with my beating
- he totally lost it, and seemed unable to know where
to stop.  Still, after a time it doesn't get any
worse:  although Rob was indeed a real expert at the
use of the cane, and the strokes had been so evenly
placed across my bum and thighs that it looked as if
someone had used a grid to la y them out, the brain
gets to the point where it can no longer cope, and
simply stops receiving new signals.  Well, at least
that's what I think - it build and builds to a
crescendo, and then stays there.  It doesn't matter
how many more strokes land on you, the agony is the
same.

When he'd finished, too, Rob was really sweating, and
looked pretty exhausted.  He stood there, looking down
at me, and said "There's no point in fucking you now,
Steve - you wouldn't feel a thing.  And I want you to
really remember the sensation of my cock the first
time it goes up that arse of yours here - I think that
time at the training centre was just a preliminary,
and  I seem to remember you hated it enough then.
This time I'm going to fuck you without any lube at
all, and then you'll really feel it - so I want you to
be able to know that it's my big, hot cock forcing its
way into you, and then really rubbing those delicate
membranes almost raw as I fuck you.  I wouldn't want
to waste any of that experience by doing it when
you're almost insensible, would I?  But there's plenty
of time, isn't there, Steve?  What I don't do now, I
can always do tomorrow, or the next day, or next week,
or next month.... Remember, Steve, you're indentured
permanently and there's just no way you can escape
from here.  I'm going to be able to really train you,
Steve, train you in a way we only dreamed of at the
centre - you'll get to know exactly what I like, and
what I don't like, and you'll be so terrified of
upsetting me that you'll spend most of your life
worrying about whether your behaviour is acceptable to
me or not."

He paused as if for dramatic effect, and added "This
is just the start, Steve.  I'm going to really enjoy
taming you, breaking you, turning you from a man who's
been indentured but who still thinks of himself as a
man, into a proper servant - one whose mind is solely
focussed on satisfying the needs of his master and
mistress!  Before I've finished with you, you won't
have any free will at all - you'll be totally and
utterly subservient to my wishes alone.  That's what
it means, Steve, to be a master of an indentured
servant - to own him completely, not just in terms of
owning his indenture, but in having such absolute
mastery of him that  the servant no longer has a will
of his own."

"Now, get up, and get off to bed, fucker!", he
snapped, when he saw that he'd failed to get a
reaction from me as he had hoped.  Although why he was
even trying, I can't imagine, as he couldn't have
beaten me any more, could he?

I don't know how I managed the stairs up to our garret
bedroom - every step was a new means of squeezing
fresh pain from my beating as my muscles flexed and
tensed.  And when I opened the door, Marco, Pavel and
Ian were all lying there in their beds, faces turned
away from the door, covers almost over them, as if
they were consciously trying to "shut me out" from
their presence.  I tried to walk properly towards my
bed as I didn't want to give them the satisfaction of
knowing that I couldn't take the pain, but failed:  I
could only shuffle along as I didn't want to raise my
feet too far in the air, and as I went past Ian's bed,
he glanced at me.  The next moment he'd leapt out of
bed and had his arm around my shoulders.

"Jesus Christ, Steve, what's happened to you?"

"The master caned me."

"But look at you... You can hardly see the cane
strokes - your bum's a mass of red, and your
thighs..."

"Don't you think I know that?"

"But he only gives eight at the most - well, normally.
 How many did he give you?"

"I don't know.  I passed out at some point, and after
that my mind wasn't really counting anyway...."

"Come on, mate, let me help you..."

"I thought you didn't want anything to do with me
again..."

"Oh shut the fuck up! You really can be stupid
sometimes.  We're all mates here, right?  And we help
each other.... Come on ....lie down......!

He helped me to my bed, and supported me as best he
could as I lowered myself down on it on my belly.
Then he snapped "Marco, Pavel, don't stand there like
a fucking load of eejits... Go and soak some towels in
cold water, the colder the better - and let's see if
we can't take some of the sting out of poor Steve's
bum..."

I'm not sure it helped.  The shock of the cold water
on my tender flesh gave me a fresh spike of pain and
hurt, and I had to bury my face in the pillow to stop
screaming as all three of them worked away at me.  But
at least they were talking to me again,  I suppose.

I didn't sleep much, if at all, as you might imagine,
and as well as the continuing pain the next morning I
was dog tired and really feeling terrible.  Pulling on
my jeans was absolute agony, and I lowered myself
cautiously down the stairs, step by step.  Someone had
told the maids as they didn't snigger or anything at
my plight, but there was no way  I could sit down to
eat my breakfast - I had to stand there and spoon down
my porridge, although there was no more nonsense from
Pavel as he gave me a big bowl full, and even poured
some cream on it he'd brought out from the kitchen
surreptitiously, and whispered "This will help you get
your strength back."

Ian came with me out to the pool as he said he'd do
the cleaning duty that morning, but when we got there,
Rob was already standing there, dressed ready for work
in his uniform that I used to know so well.  Ian went
to strip off to begin, but Rob snapped at him "I
thought this was Steve's job now, Ian."

"It is normally, master, but I thought...."

"Servants don't think, Ian.  They obey.  Do you need a
caning, too, to remind you of that lesson?  Now, go
and get on with your own work.  And you, Steve, get on
with cleaning the pool."

I turned my back to him as I inched my jeans down,
very, very slowly, trying to stop myself from wincing
and jerking around with the pain as the fabric slid
over my damaged skin.  You may think that's odd -
after all I've told you that a servant usually keeps
his face to a free man as he strips off - but I didn't
want to give Rob the satisfaction of ordering me to
turn around so that he could see his handiwork!  This
way it would be slowly revealed to him, and he
wouldn't enjoy seeing the "spectacle" all at once.
Then, once I was naked and before he could say
anything - I was again determined to avoid giving him
the satisfaction of being able to comment on his
handiwork - I slipped into the water, desperately
clenching my teeth together to stop crying out.

And then I worked, as best I could, keeping as much of
me under the water as was possible so that Rob
couldn't get a really good view, as I slowly and
diligently went around scrubbing at the tiles and
collecting the leaves and dead flies - taking far, far
longer than I normally would, as I knew Rob would have
to leave soon to get to work on time, and I didn't
want to let him see how much I was really hurting as I
laboriously clambered out, after he'd gone.  You may
think it's a small victory  I scored, but when your
life is going to be so totally controlled and ordered
by someone else, even little things like that start to
count.  On the other hand, I suppose it might have
been better for me if I had accepted that I was now an
utterly subservient thing, and hadn't had these mildly
rebellious thoughts at all.


Working that day was a real trial, but at least Ian
had a mug of tea for me and seemed to be expecting me
to take a break, and when we finally went in to dinner
that evening Pavel realised I wasn't going to sit down
and made a big effort to serve me so that I didn't
have to move around much - no more of that having to
walk down the table to get the salt and pepper.  It
was steak and kidney pudding, too - not pie, but a
proper pudding, with lovely slippery suet pastry -
with sprouts and parsnips, and I always like that.
And afterwards Pavel had excelled himself with a bread
and butter pudding with all currants and raisins
between the slices - it was just what I needed to make
me feel more cheerful.  And even Finch tried his best
- before we started eating he told me that the master
wasn't going to call for me that evening at all as he
was off to play squash at Esher.

When we were up in the bedroom I slowly lowered myself
to lie face down on the bed, and Ian went to gently
cover me with the sheet, trying to avoid dragging it
across me as much as he could.  But Pavel interrupted
him, and said that perhaps I needed to wank first.
"No chance", I muttered. " If I try to get my cock out
from under me and have to fiddle around as I lie here,
it will hurt too much."

"No, come on, Steve, we'll help you... You need to
sleep, and if you can't wank, you'll be awake most of
the night.   Shuffle down the bed, and get your feet
on the floor - pretend you're getting ready for the
master to fuck you!"

"What are you on about, Pavel?"

"Just try, Steve.... Just move down the bed, and get
your cock over the end...."

Well I did, although it was a bit painful, and lay
there with my feet spread wide on the floor.  I felt
the warmth of Pavel's body close to my legs - although
he seemed be taking a lot of care not to touch me at
all -  and then I gave a low moan of pleasure, and
surprise, as my cock was caressed by what could only
be warm, moist lips.

Pavel was really good - I'd never had such a good blow
job before - as he lay there underneath me, slurping
and licking at me, and teasing my piss slit with the
tip of his tongue.  All too soon I felt myself
starting to cum, and he didn't pull away:  I could
feel his mouth around me as my spunk shot into him,
and then he very tenderly licked my cock clean, before
getting up to stand there looking at me as I turned my
face sideways to look at him.

"Thanks, mate...."

He was smiling, and then, as  I watched, almost not
believing my eyes, he reached across and slapped my
bum.  If it hadn't been so painful all over I'd have
shot up off the bed. As it was, all I could do was
scream, and lie there with my hands scrabbling feebly
at the mattress as I tried to drown out the pain from
where his hand had caught all the weal marks on my
bum.

When the noise died down, he said quiet calmly "We're
even now, Steve!  You hurt me when you spanked me, and
now we're even.  I wanted you to know that I still
like you, and that's why I gave you a BJ, but you
can't get away with taking liberties with me, OK?"

"You bastard!  You'll feel my hand on your bum again
as soon as I can move properly..."

Ian cut in then, and shouted "You'll do no such thing,
Steve!  Pavel was only getting his own back on you.
Now if you go and hit him again, he'll have to
retaliate again, won't he?  And so it will go on!  Now
you two blokes see sense, will you?  You're pretty
much even, I'd guess, except that Pavel was really
nice to you a few moments ago...  And if I see you
going after him, I'll personally sort you out, Steve,
do you understand?"

"Oh yes?  I'm bigger, stronger, and I know how to
fight..."

"...and I can think of all sorts of ways of dealing
with you, Steve, that don't involve me taking you on
in a real scrap.  I might suggest to Finch that you're
altogether too randy for all of us up here, and that
he needs to put your cock in a chastity sleeve, for
example....  Now, see sense, will you?  You've got to
learn that we live together here, that us servants
need to stick together."

"But..."

"No, Steve!  I'm not going to listen to any more.
Either you behave properly with us three here, or
I'll personally make sure your life is a lot less
comfortable.  And that's the last I'm going to say
about it, so make yourself comfortable now - it
oughtn't to be so difficult after than job Pavel did
on you - and let's all get some sleep."

I lay there kind of seething inside, but I suppose
that what Ian had said made sense, and so I let it
drop - for the time being:  if that young Pavel tried
anything else, though, there'd be trouble!

I felt a bit better the next morning and as we worked
away throughout the day I think the constant movement
of my muscles actually did the weals some good as a
lot of the ache and pain went away, although my bum
and thighs were a mass of ugly blue-black bruises, and
Ian said I looked more like a banana that had been
left out in the air and which had gone all
discoloured.  Still, I didn't think that Rob would try
to fuck me that night, so it wasn't all bad.

At about three, though, Finch came into the grounds
and told me to go and shower and stuff, as the
mistress had come home to work and wanted to see me!

He led me into the bedroom as usual, and she at once
told me to shed the jeans, and when I'd done that, she
made me turn around so she could look at my back.  I
winced and almost jerked away from her as her fingers
gently played over my bum and my thighs, but I stood
steady, even though it hurt, as you don't want to let
a woman see you're weak, do you?

"So my husband did this to you, didn't he, Steve?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"He's so dominant and powerful... And I like it when
he shows everyone how he can control you servant boys!
 So, Steve, did you like it?"

I thought she must be some sort of lunatic!  "No,
ma'am, of course not!"

"Well some boys do like pain, but not you, evidently.
So remember, Steve, when you're in here with me.... I
only have to say one word to my husband and he'll beat
you again, just like this.  Do you understand?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I don't want to use you this afternoon as I have a
lot of work to catch up on and I'm expecting a
conference call from the States soon, so there's not
time.  But it would amuse me to see you empty yourself
again.  I'll let you stand up, as kneeling down would
be painful, I suppose..."

"Ma'am?"

"You heard me, boy.  I want to see you milk that penis
of yours as you did before.   I like to see a man put
on a little show, so make sure there's lots of variety
- stop occasionally and bounce your penis up and down,
vary the pace, make a fist and pretend to have
intercourse with it.... As I said, amuse me as you do
that thing that all men do, but usually in the privacy
of their own rooms.  I want to see a lot of your seed
spilled this afternoon..."

"No, please..."

"Did you not hear what I said a few moments ago?  Are
you really stupid?  Shall I tell my husband you've
been disobedient when he returns from work, so that he
can stripe over those marks already all over you?  Is
that what you want?"

"No, ma'am, but...."

"So get to work, boy!  I need entertainment as my
conference call is going to be very dull, and someone
has to do it!"

I looked around helplessly, but there was not going to
be any saviour coming to rescue me.  She moved to her
desk and started to dial on the phone, and was clearly
listening with only half her attention as she turned,
covered the receiver, and said "If you are not working
soon, Steve, you will be punished, I promise...."

Well, what could I do?  I don't know whether the red
slush flowing up over my shoulders to my face was
because of embarrassment, or anger, or perhaps both.
But I started to stroke myself, although my cock just
stayed there, like a big fat useless sausage.  I tried
everything I could think of to get hard, running all
the sexy scenes I could think of through my brain, but
it didn't seem to be working this time.  I mean, I
hate wanking standing up anyway - a bloke is meant to
lie on a bed, or slump in an armchair, isn't he?  But
to have to do it standing there naked in front of a
fully dressed woman whilst she was on the phone to
fuck knows how many others... Well, it's not
surprising I wasn't making much progress, was it?

I saw her covering the receiver again, and he voice
rang out to me, utterly shaming me.  "Is there a
problem, boy?  Aren't you man enough to get that organ
of yours to do what real men do?  I thought I'd bought
a stud at the auction, but perhaps I've bought a wimp
who can't even get an erection!"

My shame making me burn red now, I carried on
frantically beating at my cock, and gradually it went
hard and then, as it was getting almost painful from
the friction, I did at last start to feel myself about
to cum.  My mistress who had been watching this again
covered the mouthpiece of the phone and snapped
"Remember to catch it!  If you stain the carpet..."

I stood there panting, sweat from my exertions
starting to trickle down my ribs, holding a palm full
of my cum.  My mistress made a gesture with her hand
as she continued to speak on the conference call,
indicating what I should do.... And so as I had been
made to do before, I slowly raised my hand to my
mouth, my nose getting that distinct smell of cum, and
hesitatingly licked my palm empty.   I really don't
know which is worse - being made to wank by a woman,
being made to eat my cum in front of her, or having to
do both of those things as a mere "amusement" instead
of a preliminary to some exotic sex.

And that was it!  She made "go away" gestures with her
hand, and so slowly and painfully I pulled on my
jeans, and left.

Finch was still being considerate to me later on, and
told me that Rob had gone out with our mistress to a
fund raising evening for Amnesty - the organisation
that looks after the interests of political prisoners
and others illegally detained - and I almost laughed
at the irony of it considering that they kept all us
slaves as if we were prisoners, but at least it seemed
that I wouldn't be called on again that evening.  I
was able to enjoy the rich plate of tripe and onions
with boiled potatoes that Pavel had produced, and he
excelled himself with the rhubarb pie afterwards.  And
sleeping wasn't all that bad, either, as provided I
lay on my belly, at least now the sheets didn't hurt
my battered back.  Mind you, Pavel and Marco both
wanted to suck me off, but, frankly, I wasn't
interested - I had after all wanked just a couple of
hours before, and I  couldn't be bothered.

For the next few days I was more or less "safe" from
Rob as the mistress was around, working out of the
London office, and he contented himself with passing
me as I cleaned the pool in the morning, or worked in
the grounds when he got back from work in the
afternoon, so that he could take a look at my bum and
thighs.   Then on Saturday afternoon as I was working
away, Finch came and found me and told me the master
wanted me.  As we walked back towards the house he
whispered "I'm sorry, Steve, but the mistress has gone
up to London to shop, and the master is bored...."

Finch didn't direct me to the bedroom this time, but
to Rob's study on the ground floor - I wasn't exactly
trembling as I stood outside, as I didn't think he'd
beat me again, but I wasn't looking forwards to having
to be fucked.  Rob's room wasn't a study as such, but
more of a "den" or playroom - there was a big leather
sofa, a huge TV and music system, and, ominously,
standing in one corner, a flogging horse.  The floor
was brightly polished oak (so no fear of staining the
carpets?), and there were heavy dark green velvet
curtains shrouding the windows.

Rob was watching the end of the rugby as I went in -
I've always liked watching that myself, as it shows
men at their finest, I always think, really exhausting
themselves as it's such a physical game - and Rob and
I had often talked about the results when we were
working together on a Monday.  So he knew of my
interest, but made me stand by the side of the TV,
where I couldn't see it - it was so fucking
frustrating to have to listen to the inane commentary
but actually not to see the action!

I stood there for ages until the match was over, then
Rob looked at me, and used the remote to flip off the
TV.  "All those men bending over in the scrums have
quite turned me on, Steve!  Still, I've got you to
look at now.  So stay there, get out of those jeans,
and then bend over so I can see your ass, just as if
you were on TV!"

I cast him a look of pure hate, but did as he'd said
as he had the collar control in his hand, so I had no
choice.  I stood there,  bent over,  with my hands on
my knees ,and he actually called out and told me to
spread my feet wider as he wanted to see my balls and
cock hanging down between my thighs.    I didn't know
what was coming next, so I just stayed there, really
pissed off at this, but then Rob got up and came and
cupped my bum cheeks in his hands and rubbed them
lightly over my muscles.

"I think you've recovered, Steve."  His tone was kind
of musing, and it was clear I wasn't expected to say
anything.  "Yes, I think you can be fucked again now,
and I'm ready for it after watching all those sweaty
rugger players!  But remember, Steve, if you
misbehave, or are rude, I'll have no hesitation in
beating you again.  Do you understand?"

I hesitated for a moment, and he rapped "I asked you
if you understood!  Answer me!"

"Yes, R.... Master."

"Good!  Now when I fucked you before, at the centre, I
seem to remember it was the classic 'first time' fuck,
with you bent over like this...."  As he said this, I
felt his finger starting to probe down my bum crack,
and I tried - without success - to clench my bum tight
together to try to stop it.  He found my hole, and
started to rub his finger nail around, and I sort of
shuffled as the itching, sensual feeling of it just
made me do it.

"Ah, I see you're ready for it.... But this time I
think we ought to move on, don't you?  So get up and
get over on the horse, on your back.... I think I'd
enjoy watching your face as I fuck you this time."

I didn't want to do it, as you can imagine.  But
what's the point of even arguing about it when the
bloke can really hurt you?    So I crossed the room
and lay down on the horse, feeling the cold leather
against my back, and Rob came over and stood there
looking down at me, a faint smile on his face.  "This
is going to be fun, Steve!  I always fancied you when
we were working together and that time I had to train
you was a bit hurried - we've got all the time in the
world tonight for a good long slow fuck.... But I
don't think I can completely trust you and I don't
always want to be clutching your collar control... So
drop your arms, will you, and grip the front legs?"

As soon as I complied, Rob pulled straps around my
wrists and my arms were held there.  It's awful,
actually - that feeling that you're tied down and
can't move, even if you're prepared to risk having
your collar activated.  It takes away another part of
your freedom as a man to be to totally helpless.  All
I could do was lie there and watch as Rob stripped his
clothes off, and then he came up to the horse, his
cock, hard as a rock, bobbing in front of him, and
started to adjust it - it was clearly a deluxe model
with some sort on integral power sources, as he only
had to touch a few buttons and the head end dropped a
bit, so that he could conveniently straddle it.  Then
he raised it so that my face was right up in his
crotch, with his cock dangling over my nose!  That
indefinable male scent of cum, piss, and "whatever" -
that strong scent from the sweat glands in your crotch
- assailed me.

"Now Steve, you are going to be a good boy, aren't
you?  I want you to get me in the mood for fucking
your arse by giving me a nice sucking.... But not too
much, as I don't want to cum n your mouth... Well, I
do, and we'll get on to that one day, but not this
afternoon.  So do a good job, as the only lube you're
going to get is the spit you leave on my cock and any
pre-cum you manage to entice out of me....  Oh, and
Steve, don't get any ideas about biting me, or
anything puerile like that, will you?  If I so much as
feel your teeth on my cock I'll beat you, and if you
were to do anything really stupid.... Well, the courts
would almost certainly allow a gelding for a display
of 'viciousness'.  Now, open wide...."

I turned my head to one side to get away from his
cock, and implored "Please, no... Please, Rob...
Master... Please don't make me do that..."

"And why not, Steve?  You're a servant, my servant,
and I'm your master.  Why wouldn't you want to please
me?"

"No... I don't suck cock...."

Rob laughed, a very unpleasant laugh.  "You mean you
used not to suck cock, Steve.  When you were a free
man.  But things are different now... Now Steve does
as he's told, or Steve gets beaten!  Now, open your
fucking mouth, before I lose my temper with you.  And
lips and tongue only, remember!"

Look, I know what to do - I mean, I'd had masses of
BJs from women in my time, and Pavel and Marco had
really worked on my cock since I'd been here. And if
things had been different I suppose I could even have
got to try sucking a bloke's dick - well, Ian's, for
example.... I could imagine running my hands all over
his body and then kissing his cock, and then licking
it... You know, taking it slowly, and making it really
sensual.  But this was different - I could not move my
arms, and Rob's hairy thighs were straddling my neck
and head, and he was feeding his cock down into my
mouth: there was nothing sensual about it for me, no
sense I was doing something to a bloke I liked.  No, I
was just being used, used by Rob as if I was a whore.
  His scent was almost overpowering, and as his cock
head touched my tongue I got the first taste of him -
salty, sour... Different!   Rob fed his cock into me
and didn't stop until he touched the back of my throat
and triggered my gag reflex, and I almost snapped my
mouth shut in reaction.  But I recovered, and he
pulled out slightly, then in again to trigger it once
more... I was coughing and spluttering, and then Rob
pulled right out and started to wave his cock from
side to side so it slapped my cheeks and nose... And
then in again, but this time with him almost crooning
"Now, Steve... I want to feel your tongue caressing
me.... And your lips... Come on, boy..."

So we went on like this, with me feeling totally
humiliated and used, especially when Rob sometimes
pulled right out of me and then lowered himself down a
bit so my nose got rammed between his thighs and his
balls, where his scent was strongest.  And when he
lowered his balls into my mouth for me to suck, that
was pretty gross, as unlike us servants he wasn't
shaved and all his pubes really were not nice at all
and I got hairs stuck between my teeth.

Still, it was better than getting fucked, I suppose,
and I have to confess to really trying to get Rob
excited, using the tip of my tongue on his piss slit,
for example, as I'd felt Pavel do to me.  I didn't
want his spunk in my mouth, but if I could entice him
to shoot, he wouldn't be able to fuck me, would he?
And I thought I was succeeding as I got the taste of
his pre-cum - suddenly my mouth was a lot saltier -
but Rob was evidently wise to this strategy as he
pulled out, his cock very hard indeed now and
glistening with my spit and phlegm.

Rob stood there, breathing hard, and stroking his cock
proudly, and smiled.  "You almost got me there,
Steve... Still, if you want a mouth full of my cum,
we'll have to see what we can do later... But for now
it's time to fuck that arse of yours again...."

He moved to stand between my legs and quickly stooped
down to hold my ankles and went to raise them up in
the air.  I suppose I resisted a bit, as he snapped
"Do you want to see the effect of a tawse on your
balls, Steve?  Co-operate, you bastard!"

I let him lift my ankles up so my calves were around
his neck - I wanted to smash them together and crush
him! -   then, the sweat starting to pour off him as
he was so aroused and was concentrating so hard, he
positioned his cock head at my hole and began to push
his way in.

I just couldn't help crying out as it started to hurt
so much, and as he looked down at me almost in triumph
he panted "So do what you told the trainees to do....
Pretend you're trying to crap so you open up..."

And then he was in.  But the bastard didn't stop and
give me a break, to allow me to recoup myself.  No, he
carried on pushing his cock into me as I carried on
moaning and crying, until I felt his pubes scratching
t the sensitive shaved area between my legs.  And the
bastard didn't stop then, either - his arm curved
around my legs so he could hug them close to my body
and thus push himself forward to get the last few
millimetres of his cock buried in me.

His head went back and he gave a big sigh of pure
pleasure - well, I've done that before - and then he
started rocking backwards and forwards, quite slowly
and gently, and to my surprise I found myself moaning
almost in synchronisation with him!   But this brief
happy episode didn't last long as Rob started to take
long, hard stabbing thrusts at me, which made me cry
out with the pain, and then he grabbed my ankles and
pushed my legs apart and forwards towards my head,
taking some of the weight of his body against my
resistance, so that I was spread open as wide as
possible and he had the deepest penetration possible
in me - now I was not only hurting from the rasping of
his cock against my delicate sphincter, but with that
little extra sensation as a bloke's hard body slams
right into those really sensitive parts of you.  I
heard myself shouting "No..... Stop..... No.....", but
Rob's face just tightened in a rictus of a smile, and
he carried on.  Well, I suppose I can't blame him all
that much - I've been like that with a bloke under me
before now - I mean, it's kind of natural, isn't it?
I reckon it's programmed in to us - primitive man knew
that once he'd started fucking he shouldn't stop as it
might be the only chance he got to get his spunk
inside some bitch and thus get his genes carried on.

I didn't think it could get any worse.  But of course
it can - Rob let go of my legs and fell forward on to
me, so the width of his body was now forcing my legs
apart.  Like that you can do that thing with your hips
where you just do a lot of incredibly short, fast
strokes, and then kind of wiggle around so that the
cock is almost reaming the bloke's hole - and all the
time you have his hot sweaty body pinned under you,
you can feel the pounding of his heart, and the effort
he's making to breathe as your weight presses down on
him.  I used to like that myself, so it's not
surprising that Rob did it to me, and it went on and
on until he suddenly gave a shout and his whole body
went rigid, and I knew he must be pumping his spunk up
into me.

He just lay there the, totally exhausted, flopped out
on top of me.  Gradually his breathing recovered, and
he manage to mutter "You're an ace fuck, Steve....
That was well worth waiting for."

I just lay there, and turned my head to the side so I
didn't have to look at him.  He went to kiss me, and
turned m head the other way to avoid him.  He grabbed
my chin then to hold my head still, forcing his
fingers quite painfully in to the side of my face, and
I tried to move around underneath him, even though he
was still buried inside me, to make it uncomfortable
for him.

"Lie still, you fucker!", he snapped, his happy mood
evaporating instantly.

But I didn't, and the more he tried to hold my head
still so that he could kiss me, the more I struggled,
until I brought my legs up and together sharply,
trying to bang my knees into his ribs to hurt him.
That did it!  Rob pulled out of me, and stood up
between my legs - stupid really, as I tried to
"scissor" his thighs and hurt him again.

"You haven't learned, have you, Steve?  All that
beating, and you haven't learned that you're a fucking
indentured servant who has to obey, and who has to do
what his master wants.  Well, let's see if we can't
teach you again...."

The horse really was a deluxe one, as there were ropes
on those kind of washing line things that retract them
and keep them tidy when not in use, somewhere at the
front, and Rob ran these out and attached them to my
ankles, touched a button, and my legs were once more
hauled up and apart.  A couple more touches and my
head went down and my arse went up, and I realised I
was wide open and totally exposed to him.

He stood there now between my legs, looking down my
body at my head below him, and in one of those silly
moments you remember, I saw my cock had fallen
forwards, too, so it was lying along my belly.

Rob's hand went on to my balls, and with his open palm
he started to roll them against my body, and  I
started to cry and whimper with that awful sickening
pain.  "See, Steve, how foolish it is to resist me?
Just imagine what would happen if I kept increasing
the pressure of my hand now....  But that's too
simple:  there are a few other little elements of pain
that a man can experience when all these lovely
sensitive areas are completely available, when he's
powerless to protect himself, and when there's someone
like me, who's something of a connoisseur in these
things, there to explore with him how far he can go
before he becomes insensible."

I never knew there could be such sheer agony.  I
screamed.  I cried.  I pleaded.  I shouted.  But Rob
went on and on, doing one diabolical thing after
another, and all the time looking down at me and
laughing.  As he started, he remarked "Last time I
beat you, it was all brute force, designed to leave a
lasting impression.  Tomorrow there will be no marks
at all, except for a bit of reddened skin, but you'll
walk bowlegged...."

He showed me the very thin, very flexible cane before
he used it to beat the inside of my thighs, going as
high up into the joint with my body as possible.  And
then, when he decided that the pain receptors there
were overloading, he used a small, light flogger to
beat my balls as they lay there.  His final piece de
resistance, and the one that had me screaming
continuously, quite unable to stop myself, was the
miniature whip:  Rob was an expert, and stood between
my legs so that he could whip my arsehole - sometimes
allowing the whole length of the whip to lash into me
from my balls right along, and sometimes just allowing
the fast flying tip to bite into the tender skin of my
sphincter itself!  I just can't describe these
sensations to you.  They are at once stinging like
you've never been stung before, hot, like touching
something that's at white heat, and jagged, as if a
dentist has drilled into the root of your tooth.

As I lay there sobbing, Rob casually pulled his
clothes back on, then touched the buttons that made me
horizontal once more.  He stroked his hand across my
forehead, then over my pecs and down my belly.  "Calm
down, Steve" - he sounded like some nurse, trying to
take care of me, not like the sadist who'd just done
this to me.  "Calm down... It's all over now - until
the net time you resist me!"

End Of Part Ten