Date: Mon, 9 Jan 2006 22:35:57 -0800 (PST)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: Someone Has To Do It, Part Nine

Someone Has To Do It

By Pete Brown        petebrownuk @ yahoo.com


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


Part  9


We had a really great meal that night - or was it just
that I was relaxed, knowing that both master and
mistress were away?  Pavel had done rich onion gravy
and loads of buttery mash, and with that you could
either have faggots, or liver - and not that poncey
calves' liver you get in fancy restaurants, but proper
strong pigs' liver.  I like them both, and after a
hard day at work I was ravenous, so Pavel slipped some
of both on my plate.  And afterwards there was a big
traditional spotted dick, with golden syrup as well as
a big jug of yellow custard.  I sat there at the table
almost rubbing my belly, I was so content, and it felt
as if I needed to let my jeans out a notch, too.

Up in the bedroom I was hoping to get a read of that
Economist I'd found, but the single 25W light bulb
made it much too dim, and fucking Marco started on
again about having sex.  "Shut the fuck up, will you,
Marco", I groaned.  "You saw how much I had to eat
tonight - look, my belly's almost swollen with it!  I
couldn't fuck tonight, even if I wanted to."

"So you like my food, do you, Steve?" Pavel chimed in.

"Fuck, yes.  Where did you learn to cook like that?
All these traditional things, just like my old ran
used to make."

"When I was indentured they decided to send me to
catering college to increase my value - simple
arithmetic, I suppose:  Twenty two year old, worth X
for a ten year indenture; catering college for six
months costs Y, and then twenty three year old with
nine and a half years to run is worth Z, where Z is
much bigger than X and Y!  Mind you, it was no easy
ride:  they make you work at it fourteen hours a day,
to pack it all in.  And if you make too many
mistakes..."

"...yeah, they punish you.  I know.  So did you come
straight here then?"

"Yes.  They took me 'on approval' - I had to cook them
a dinner.  And then the master fucked me - which I
wasn't expecting.  I mean, I was a trained chef...."

"For fuck's sake, Pavel", Ian cut in.  "What did you
expect?  A twenty three year old, slim, blond, nice
lean body...."

"But in my country there was no indenture, and if men
fucked, they did it because they both wanted to...."

"Well I can't help it if you come from the boonies!
We're civilised here!  You should have stayed down on
the farm if you didn't want a real taste of modern
life."  We all joined in Ian's little joke, and Pavel
slid across and moved in to Ian's bed - I saw his
long, thin legs slide sensuously beside Ian, and Ian
leaned across and kissed him, wrapping Pavel's slim
body in his big tanned arms.

The next moment the sheet was ripped off me, and Marco
was again straddling my belly as he'd done before.
"Come on, Steve!  You don't have to fuck me.... I'll
do the fucking...."

He was reaching behind him and stroking my cock, and
this, together with the sensuous feel of his hairy
thighs along my body as he knelt there taking most of
his weight, plus that wonderful feeling of warmth you
get when a bloke's bum is resting on you, was enough
to make me hard.

Marco was evidently pretty good at this, as he raised
himself up a bit, then expertly guided my cock at his
arsehole as he lowered himself on me.  He leaned
forward, and started rocking backwards and forwards so
my cock slid in and out of him, and, well, you know
how it is - that's not really very satisfying, is it?
So I reached out and grabbed his hips and pushed him
upright so more of my cock slid in to him, and then I
began to thrust my hips upwards so that  I gave him a
real fucking.

I know it's not everyone's taste, but after a heavy
meal it's not bad to make the other bloke do most of
the work, and young Marco was really active, and a
bloody hard worker - he bounced up and down as I
thrust away, his own cock beating up and down like a
demented pendulum as he did so, and it didn't take me
all that long to cum.  I liked the feeling of his
hairy bum resting back down on me then, and he leaned
right forward and rubbed his hairy chest over my
smooth pecs, which made my nips quite excited!
"See, Steve" - he was laughing, almost - "I told you
it wouldn't be too strenuous for you.... An old guy
like you has to relax.... How old are you?"

"Thirty five."

"Ten years older than me!  An old man!"

"You'll wish you were in such good shape as me when
you get to my age...."

"Of course I will!  I'll have been free for five
years, I'll have made a stack of money, bought an
indentured, and will be fucking every night!"

"Would that be a male or s female indenture, Marco?",
Ian cut in.

"Oh Ian, you're making fun of me.  One of each, of
course - the man for fun and excitement, and the woman
for when I want to experiment to make sure  I satisfy
my wife..."

"Oh, so you're going to get married as well?  What
will she say about the man servant, then?"

"She will be glad.  I am  an Italian.  A proud Italian
stallion.  She will be glad that he is there to take
some of my ardour out, so that when I then go to her,
it will not be so vigorous."

All four of us laughed then, and Marco pulled himself
off my cock, and slid down beside me.  His hand
reached out and gently stroked my pecs.  "But oh,
Steve, no wife will have a breast as good to feel as
this muscle here...."

"Cut it out, will you, Marco... And get back into your
own fucking bed!  I want to get some sleep.... And
with that cock of yours stabbing at me all the time, I
won't be able to."

The next day at our tea break Ian sat really close to
me again, and as we talked he gradually brought the
conversation around to sex.  "You know, Steve", he
said quite causally, "For someone who doesn't like
sex, you put on a pretty good performance last
night..."

"I never said I didn't like sex. I like sex as much as
the next bloke.  More so, probably.  I'm fit and
active, and a bloke who's like that in one part of his
life is like that everywhere...."

He smiled quietly.  "Ah, so you do like sex!  But you
don't like it with the mistress...."

"That's not sex, that's fucking humiliation.  She's
deliberately humiliating a big strong bloke by turning
him into some sort of sex slave..."

"Quite  lot of blokes would be glad to be a sex slave
to a strong, dominant woman...."

"Well not me!  There's only one thing a woman needs
from me... A big strong cock!"

"And what does another bloke need from you, Steve?"
As he said this Ian's hand slid down onto the crotch
of my jeans.  "...a big strong cock, like  I can feel
now...."

"No, Ian..."

His other hand went to my pecs, and he began to tweak
my left tit playfully.  Well you can guess what
happened to my cock then, and this of course
encouraged him - the hand on my crotch went up, and
then worked its way down past my waistband.  I felt
his strong, calloused fingers on my cock, and I
whispered "No, Ian..."

"Shut up, Steve....", he murmured, but very quietly,
very softly, as his lips locked onto mine.

Look, I've never kissed another bloke before.  I mean,
it's not the sort of thing you do, is it?  In my work
I'd fucked a lot of them, and that's different.  But
kissing another bloke - well, it's so kind of
intimate, isn't it?    I felt myself becoming
flustered, and I went to grip his wrists to stop him
playing with my cock and my tit, but as he did so, he
pressured my lips apart and his hot, moist tongue was
in me, forcing itself against mine.  It was as if some
primeval reflex was operating - I let go of his wrists
as if I no longer wanted to stop him, one arm went
around his waist and the other around his head, and I
pulled him close to me.

You know how it is when you're really snogging - your
breath starts to synchronise with his, your tongues
are writhing and twining together, and your body tries
to emulate them - the feel of Ian's bare skin against
mine as we twisted and moved together, as if trying to
make our two bodies one, was so sensuous that I heard
myself moaning.  And Ian's fingers carried on stroking
my cock, which was now almost painful as it strained
against my jeans in its desperation to burst free.

We came up for air, and Ian smiled at me.  "Wow!  For
someone who doesn't like blokes, Steve, you seem
pretty experienced..."

I sat there silent for a moment, amazed at myself and
at the reaction of my body.  "Yes... Wow!", I agreed.

"Let's get naked.... Come on...."

"The work, Ian...."

"Fuck it!  The master and mistress aren't here, and
Finch never comes down this way...."

He was tearing off his jeans now, his cock absolutely
hard and sticking up way above the horizontal.  I
found myself doing the same, and then we embraced
again and started to kiss, and quite automatically we
began to move our hips, so that our cocks rubbed
against each other and our hard bellies.  My hands
reached down and cupped the halves of his bum and
pulled him even closer to me, and his hands did the
same to my bum.... And then his fingers wormed their
way down my crack and he was scratching gently at my
arsehole.

We fell to the floor, and rolled around a bit,
clutching, stroking, grappling with each other, our
legs intertwined, and our cocks so stiff that it was
hurting.  We stopped for a moment, faces just inches
away from each other, panting and gasping from our
frenzy, and laughing  as we were swept onwards in some
sort of delirium.  "OK, Steve, now for the fucking of
your life...."

"No way!  Let me show you what my cock can do -
remember, I was a trainer, and I know how to use
it..."

We grappled some more, but I was bigger and stronger
than he was, and it was no real contest, really.  I
soon had him on his back, then I pushed his hands
above his head and held them there with one of mine as
my body forced his legs apart, and with my other hand
I stiffened my cock and aimed it at his hole.

I know it's not a good idea to fuck a guy without lube
and without stretching him a bit first, but my cock
was leaking pre-cum so after a few seconds of relative
discomfort (for me... And a bit more for Ian!), I
started to slide smoothly.  And it was a really great
fuck - one of the best I've ever had - I did
everything:  short, fast strokes; long slow ones; and
sometimes I pulled right out and rammed in hard with
that fantastic "slap" as your bodies collide.  Ian's
reaction to all of this was hat made it, though - he
cried, moaned, his body thrashed and writhed, his legs
wrapped themselves around my waist and squeezed me,
and his head bobbed up and down, in a frantic effort
to get at my mouth and kiss me.

You just can't sustain sex like that, I don't care who
you are.  All too soon my whole body arched and my
spunk pumped out, as I cried in sheer ecstasy from it.
 I lowered myself down onto him, taking most of my
weight on my forearms, and now we did kiss - well, as
well as we could, through our laughter, and the sheer
joyous nonsensical noises we were making.

We were both soaked in our sweat, and as our hearts
stopped racing Ian broke away from my passionate
kissing and grinned at me.  "So, is this the Steve
that doesn't really like sex with blokes?"

"Oh, it was nothing.... I just thought you needed to
see how a real professional did it...."

We both laughed again, and suddenly Ian looked a bit
more serious.  "OK, stud!  So now it's my turn..."

"Ian, no.  I don't take it...."

"Oh come on, Steve.... You told me a few minutes ago
that you didn't like sex with blokes at all..."

"No, seriously..."

"Steve, shut your mouth, will you.  What's the
problem?"

"I was fucked when I was indentured.... It was
awful... It hurt... I was humiliated....."

"Shhh, shhh... Trust your mate Ian here, Steve.  Look,
when you did your 'training' - did it hurt the
servants, and were they humiliated?"

"Yes, but that was my job... Someone had to do it..."

"Quite!  So when whatever trainer fucked you, he was
probably just doing his job as well.  Now, with me....
Here, safe, with a bloke you like... It's going to be
all different.... Just trust me, Steve..."

I don't know how long it took.  Time seemed to stand
still.  Ian kissed me, caressed me, and then gradually
a finger stroked at my arse hole, and later I felt the
warmth of the tip of his cock nudging and asking for
entry, and then he was in.  Always, if I tensed or
seemed uneasy, he stopped and backtracked and then
when I was calm and happy again, pressed inexorably
onwards.  And when he started to fuck me, so slowly
and gently, I just couldn't help moaning and crying
out with the sheer joy of having this lovely bloke's
big cock buried inside me.

It was like working away in a dream that afternoon -
my arse was sore, but sore in a wonderful way:  I was
always conscious of a deep, comforting kind of heat
spreading from my arse as we worked away, and every
time we looked at each other, big grins broke out.
We spent dinner in an agony of anticipation - we both
wanted to get off to bed, but we had to sit there and
wade our way through Pavel's huge thick oxtail stew
with root vegetables and pearl barley, and then jam
roly-poly with more of his thick creamy custard.  The
only thick creamy thing I could really focus my brain
on was cum - and how I was going to pump it into Ian
again, and, probably, how he would do the same to me!



It seemed odd at first.  I mean, when I was working I
used to fuck blokes all the time, and I never much
minded if there was an audience - quite often I'd make
the other servants watch as I took my fill of one of
their number, as an aid in conditioning them.  Or
perhaps there'd be a party of distinguished visitors
being shown around, and my boss liked them to see how
an "expert" did it.  But the moment we got up to our
little room and Ian and I were tearing our jeans off,
I became really embarrassed at the thought of Marco
and Pavel watching us!    They didn't make it any
easier, either - both of them threw themselves down on
their beds and watched as Ian and I embraced and
started frantically kissing, and then they started
making remarks about how erect our cocks were, and
even betting with each other as to who would fuck who
first.

I couldn't stand it, and when they didn't stop after
I'd broken off for a moment, Ian told them to turn
over and get to sleep and leave us in peace.  Then
when they took no notice of him, I lost my temper.  I
grabbed Pavel by his arm, dragged him to his feet, and
then holding him firmly so he couldn't escape, slapped
his bum several times - and I can really hit hard, ad
I've got strong arms, as you know.  The slaps echoed
around the room, and I threw him back down onto his
bed, with him almost howling with the sheer
unexpectedness of what had happened to him - and the
stinging in his ass, I suspect.  Marco just lay there
absolutely astonished, and went to say something.

"One more word out of you, either, Marco, and you'll
get the same... Take a look at Pavel's bum and you'll
see my hand prints on it, and I think he'll tell you
it hurts!"

That shut him up - it was just the same in the army,
where I learned that trick:  the new recruits were
always disrespectful of us older guys until we'd
picked one or two of them and taught them a lesson,
although it was easier there as two or three of us
could grab one of them and it didn't mater how strong
he was as we could always overpower him, pull down his
combats and pants, and tan his bum.  And it was more
humiliating for them, too, with the whole of the
barracks room watching.

Ian, though, seemed to have been surprised, if not
shocked, by what I'd done.  He pulled my head close to
his and whispered "Steve, control yourself!  Marco and
Pavel were only having a bit of a laugh..."

"...at my expense, Ian."

"...Even so, there was no need to do that to Pavel."

"It shut him up, didn't it?"

"Steve, I think you're a bully!  There was no need to
humiliate him like that.  A good clip around the ear
would be OK.... But spanking his bum..."

"Oh shut the fuck up, Ian, let's...."  I reached for
his cock, and started to stroke it, and went to kiss
him, but he pulled away.

"No, Steve.  You can't leave it like that.  And leave
me alone..."

"Ian, I just want...."

"Go and apologise to Pavel."

"You can't be serious..."

"I am."

"Well fuck you!  He's not hurt - much - and it was his
fault."

"You made him look like a naughty kid, Steve.  Go and
say you're sorry."

I shook my head, and reached for his cock again, but
Ian grabbed me by the wrist and stopped me.    "I mean
it, Steve.  Unless you apologise to Pavel, I don't
want you as a mate..."

Well, I didn't have much choice, did I?  I mean, a
bloke can't just give in, especially when he's right!
There's just no way I could do what Ian wanted me to -
 a man doesn't apologise, does he?  He just forgets
it, and it kind of goes away, in time.  Only wimps go
around saying they're sorry to everyone.

"Come on, Ian, be sensible... You and me, we've got a
night's fun ahead... I was looking forward to it."

"Steve, you heard me!  Get and apologise to Pavel, and
do it now!"

Well, if I had been wavering, Ian's tone would have
really made up my mind.  You don't take orders like
that from another bloke, do you?  So I reached down to
take his cock again, and now Ian's strong hand gripped
me even harder.  "Fuck off out of here, Steve.  I was
serious."

It was kind of exciting, actually, having Ian like
this, so fierce, gabbing hold of me, and being so
dominant.  And I'm sure that if it came to a fight, I
could have easily overcome him.  Come to think of it,
fucking him after overpowering him might be a lot of
fun.... But something made me stop.  "Come on,
mate.... Don't be fucking stupid..."

"Fuck off,  Steve...."

I could tell he meant it this time, as he seemed to be
in a right huff, and turned over, so his back was  to
me.  I just lay there, looking at his lovely skin, and
I tried to put my arm over him to grab his cock, but
he pushed me away again, and lay there immobile and
passive.   I felt like a right fool then, just lying
there next to him, so I got out of his bed and went to
my own, and got in, and then there was the problem of
what I should then do - I'd been really looking
forward to or night together, and even those few
minutes with him touching me, the feel of his hot
breath on me, the touch of his hands, had all served
to inflame my senses.  My cock was rock hard, and I
needed to wank - but I knew the moment I started to do
that the others would hear me, and might even start to
laugh about the fact that Ian had kicked me out!

My cock was really aching, though, and so there was
only one thing to do - I got out of bed again, my cock
jutting out hard in front of me, and went over to
Pavel's bed.  He was  lying there looking at me, and
kind of half sat up, obviously expecting that  I was
there to apologise.  He was really surprised,
therefore, when I pulled the covers off him, grabbed
his ankles and pulled them up around me neck, and
started to position my cock to push into him.

"No....", he shouted, almost in terror. "No, Steve,
don't...."

"What do you mean?  You were begging for it the other
night?"

"I don't want you to fuk me, Steve, not tonight...."

Well I wasn't going to have that, was I?  I mean, it
wasn't up to him - he was just a bottom guy, and they
have to be grateful when blokes like me decide they
are going to give them a good time!  So I just ignored
him, and pushed my cock in past him, and he began to
writhe and shout, and generally make a huge fuss about
nothing.

Marco came over and started to try to pull me away,
but my temper was really up now - and I was in a
frenzy of sexual passion, anyway, and anyone with any
sense will tell you that you don't interfere with a
bloke when he's in the middle of a fuck!  So I just
hit out at him, and with my strength, and as it was so
unexpected, Marco went flying across the room, hit the
floor, and kind of collapsed in a heap.  Out of the
corner of my eye I saw Ian getting out of bed and
starting towards me, and I snapped "Keep out of this,
Ian!"

"Steve.... Don't...."

"Ian, stay out of it!  This is all your fault
anyway...."    I saw him coming at me, fists clenched,
but I am so much bigger and stronger that as he got
within range, a punch to his belly - which he wasn't
expecting - caused him to double up.  And then I
suppose it was a bit tough for Pavel, as I was in such
a rage and so excited that I spared him nothing -
thrusting into him with all my power, and just
pounding away with all my might.

When you're all fired up like that it doesn't take you
long to cum though, does it?  And I stood there,
towering over Pavel, sweat dripping off me, and seeing
his face contorted with pain.  He was almost sobbing
as I pulled out of him, but the way I was feeling
then, I didn't care - I just went back to my own bed
and fell into it, and as you often do after a really
good fuck, I fell straight asleep.

There was a problem the next morning, though - they
blokes all ignored me as we were getting up, and at
breakfast, and fucking Pavel only gave me half a bowl
of porridge, and no one would pass the sugar to me and
I had to get up and make a point of going to the end
of the table to get it myself.  Then he offered
"seconds" to everyone except me, and when I told him
I'd like some more - there was plenty in the pot - he
ladled out some more, and then quite deliberately spat
into it!

The little bastard deserved to have me push it into
his face, and I felt my temper flare, but Finch was
sitting there watching and had his hand on the collar
control, so I knew I had to restrain myself.  But what
was I to do then?  If I just left it and went away,
they'd all laugh at me and know that Pavel had bested
me.  And hitting Pavel was out, so instead I did the
only thing I could - I went and sat back down, and
spooned it all down - well, I was hungry, and, after
all, a bloke's spit isn't all that bad:  you get
enough of it when you kiss, don't you?

Ian gave me really vile work to do that morning, too -
wading around in the near-freezing water of the
ornamental pond, to get the dead leaves and stuff out.
 And when  I went to the potting shed to try and get
warm, he hadn't made me a mug of tea, refused to speak
to me, and just snapped "Get back to work - we don't
really have breaks here.  A tough guy like you, who
can force other guys into having sex, ought to be able
to work without a break, too."

Well, if that's the way it was to be, so be it, I
thought.  Anyway, I knew it was only a matter of time
until all this was forgotten - that's the way blokes
are, as I've said.  Still, it was a pretty miserable
sort of day as I liked talking to Ian as we worked,
but my day went from bad to worse:  as we went back to
the house, Finch saw me and snapped "Go and get
cleaned up - no time for dinner - the master's back,
and wants to see what the mistress bought.  And if you
ask me, she didn't make a very wise choice.... Watch
it, Steve - you deserve punishment for what you did
last night, but I make it a habit not to interfere in
personal matters between you four, unless it affects
your work.  But I'm watching... Remember!"

I just shrugged.  I worked hard, after all.  And maybe
this master wouldn't be so bad after all - perhaps
he'd appreciate a bloke who really worked his guts
out, and all this talk of caning and stuff just
happened to those lazy fuckers like Marco and Pavel.
So I made a special effort to look really clean and
tidy, and even scraped the razor a bit down the side
of my balls, as it felt a bit rough and the grommets
weren't due for another week.  And I made sure my cock
was nice and neat down my thigh, so it looked good,
and I did a bit of bending and stretching and so on,
so that my muscles were nicely toned and there was
that agreeable light sheen that a really faint sweat
brings to the male body.

Finch led me up the now familiar stairs, and we waited
outside the big doors until we were told to go in.
There, to my utter amazement, was Rob!

I took a couple of steps forward in excitement, my
hand outstretched.  "Rob...."

At once my collar tingled, and Finch hissed "Fucking
stand still, and shut up!".

"That will be all, Finch, thank you.", Rob muttered,
and stood there, looking at me as Finch went out and
shut the door.

"Rob...."

"Steve, when we last met, I told you that it was
really desirable for free men and indentures to
understand their places, and for the indentures to be
properly respectful.  That's doubly so now, as my wife
bought your indenture!  You really do have to
understand that although we were once mates, all
that's over - you call me 'master' now...."

"But Rob, how did you get here?  This house, the
servants...."

"This is the last time I'll remind you, Steve, to be
respectful!  But I'm sure I told you when we were
working together that my wife had money, and that she
liked me to work though as it kept me occupied.  Well,
as you can see, she's got a lot of money - money from
her dad, and what she makes, as she's a real hotshot
corporate lawyer.  So I go to work every day - and
it's not bad, actually:  it gets me out of the house,
it keeps me in good shape, and, more importantly, I
enjoy it...."

"But Rob..."

"OK, Steve, that's it!  I told you last time we met
that you needed to be respectful, and I warned you
again today.  You really can be an obstinate fucker, I
know, and there's only one way of training an
obstinate servant into obedience that I know of....
Get those jeans off, and bend over the arm of the
couch here!"

"Rob, cut the crap, please...."

I almost fell to the floor as my collar sent a shock
rippling through me.

"No, Steve.  It's you who has to cut the crap!  Now,
strip those jeans off, and let me have a look at you -
I understand my wife ordered a couple of little
modifications to you - and then I'm going to give you
a little lesson, as I did the last time we met, in
obedience!"

Watching him watching me as I pushed down my jeans I
felt a bit embarrassed - not about having to do it ,
as such, but more because at one time I'd thought of
this bloke as a mate, and you're not ready to accept a
mate telling you to do things like that, are you?
Still, I didn't even try to turn around or anything,
and made no attempt to hide my cock - I've got nothing
to be ashamed of, after all.

"Come over here, and put your hands behind your head
so I can inspect you.", he said calmly in a tone that
said he knew I wouldn't dare disobey him.  I stood
there, and somehow that position makes you feel very
vulnerable - your pits, chest and belly are all just
there, with nothing to hide them, and you know that to
make any attempt to do anything means a big noticeable
movement as your hands come down.  And as your neck is
slightly back, it even makes your pecs and hips thrust
forwards a bit, as if you're "offering" your body to
the bloke.

Rob ran his hand over my pecs, his fingers stroking
the valley between and underneath them just as his
wife's had when she had done this, and he looked into
my eyes.  "This certainly is an improvement!  With all
that fur gone, I can really see you properly now - and
I never realised before how those big aureoles before
really enhance the look of your nips...."

As he said this, Rob grabbed each of my nips between
his thumbs and forefingers, and started to roll them
around - something that made me groan with that
strange mixture of pain, pleasure and excitement that
those of you who are equally sensitive there will
recognise.  I also felt my cock start to stir in
response, and I saw the corners of Rob's mouth begin
to turn up in a half smile.

Fortunately he didn't linger, though, and his hand
roamed on down over my belly.  "My wife asked me to
decide on whether this should go the next time the
grommets come, Steve" - his fingers were flickering
idly to and from across my treasure trail.  "I think
it could be nice to see your navel and those belly
muscles all naked and glistening with sweat, but on
the other hand, a nice dark, well pronounced trial
like this does make you look really - well, masculine,
I suppose you'd say.   I'll have to think about it, I
suppose, but there's no hurry - I could, after all,
have it removed next time, see how I feel about it
when I've watched you for a few days, as you could
always be allowed to grow it again if I chose."

I hated having to stand there and listen to him
discussing my body like this, without giving me any
choice in the matter at all.  I mean, a bloke's body
is kind of personal, isn't it?  But  I was discovering
that as a servant I had absolutely no choice, no
control, at all.

His fingers were on my cock now, and as he teased at
the flange around my cock head, he looked into my eyes
again.  "This must have been a big change for you,
Steve!  But on the whole, I do think it really does
improve you...  I always remember the way you used to
try to hide your cock head, even when some of us had
come along to watch you fuck!  You're so much sleeker
and kind of streamlined without it - and you
definitely look better circumcised when you're flaccid
- not that  I expect that happens too often, with all
those good-looking guys sleeping in the same room!
You always told me you only fucked as it was your job
- is that still so, or did the delights of Ian, Marco
and Pavel tempt you to be a little more adventurous in
your sex life?"

When I didn't reply, I felt his fingers tightening on
my cock, and he raked a nail across my piss slit,
causing me to wince.  "Answer me, boy!"

"Yes...", I muttered, a bit embarrassed.

Again, the pain as he raked my piss slit once more.
"You really are trying, aren't you, Steve?  You were
going to get two strokes of the cane before, but
you've just done it again:  you didn't answer, and
when you did, you were sullen and disrespectful.  So
now it's four."

He really was smiling now, as he went on "So, our
Steve, the 'I'm only fucking them as someone has to do
it' guy, has discovered the pleasures of real sex, has
he?  How amusing - all that time at the training
centre, and all those opportunities for a bit of
extracurricular activity, and you have to wait until
you're indentured to find out that you really like sex
after all."

His fingers moved down and started to caress and
fondle my balls, and, as you do whenever someone else
is holding those precious parts of you, my whole body
went tense as you just cant help imagining how painful
it would be if they squeezed them hard.

"Pity about the vasectomy, though, eh?  So no little
Steves!  But, you know, I'll swear they're bigger than
when I last caught sight of them!  I don't know
whether it's because they're all nice and smooth now,
or whether it's because you can see them properly
without all that unruly shock of hair covering them,
or because it's true what they say, and a bloke's
balls put on about five percent when he's tied off.
What do you think, Steve?  Was it worth having the
little snip to get bigger balls?"

"No.... Master."

"Ah, you're learning.  So you wouldn't trade bigger
balls for not being able to breed?"

"I wouldn't, master.  Mine were bigger than most
anyway, so I didn't have anything to worry about when
other blokes looked at them!"  I thought I'd trumped
him with that one, as his balls were just average, I
reckon.

The smile that had been playing on his face
disappeared.  "Still, my wife did a good job, I reckon
- she's a good selector of male flesh.  I've been
pleased with all the boys she's bought so far - she
seem to have a talent for picking those with nice
fuckable arses - and, if my memory serves me correctly
from last time we met, you're in the same category:
still, we'll find out, soon enough, won't we?  But
first, you've got to learn to obey, and obey properly,
so we'll need to pick up where we left off in the
training centre.  Now, lie across the arm of the
couch.... And get that bum of yours nice and high in
the air...."

It was as if he was being deliberately provocative
then, trying to get some reaction from me.  He had an
ornate carrying case that he opened to reveal a
selection of canes, and he stood in front of me,
brandishing them around to get the "feel" of them, and
experimentally swishing them through the air.  And as
he did so he muttered things like "Perhaps not this
one - too thin, and he might bleed and it will go on
the new carpet...", and "I'd forgotten this good heavy
one, and maybe the bruising will keep his mind
focussed for a few days..."

Finally he made a choice, and came and stood by me.
I felt his hands running over my bum, as he told me,
as if it was the most normal thing in the world "It
will be a good few days until this is as nice and
smooth again, you know, Steve!  I've chosen a nice,
medium-weight Malaca, so there'll be a lot of
bruising, but more importantly, the weals will be very
pronounced and will take several days to subside - you
won't be doing a lot of sitting down!  And I've
decided that as you've got four strokes coming, two
will be on each cheek - if I move around from side to
side, a whole lot more of the muscle will be exposed
to the stroke:  that's one of the only difficulties
with men with nice rounded arses like yours - if you
just strike at them generally, only the bits around
the crack really feel it.  But with proper
positioning, almost the whole of that lovely big
muscle can appreciate the punishment.  Now....."

There's something you never forget about the sound of
the cane as it slices down through the air towards you
- that "swish" that alerts you to what's to come.
It's too late to let you do anything about it, of
course, even if you could.  But your brain remembers
the sound, as it's followed so immediately by that
spike of agony as the cane hits you.  And just as the
spike dies away, the dull, sodden ache rolls in to
take over from it.  That's what's so diabolical about
the cane - that combination of the sharp, acidic,
searing initial shock, and the long-lasting dull agony
that follows immediately behind it.  That and the
utter humiliation of having one man physically punish
another, of course - especially as , by its nature, a
caning has to be done on the bare skin of your bum.

I screamed, of course.  It's not that I'm afraid of
pain or anything, but you just can't help it, can you?
 The sheer unexpectedness of the blow as it lands, and
then the physical effects of it on all the nerve cells
in your skin.  I tried not to, of course, and I even
half buried my face in one of the fancy silk cushions
of the couch, biting in to the material as I fought to
control myself and stuff something between my teeth to
stifle my cries.

When he'd done the four he'd promised me, Rob came to
stand by my head, almost triumphantly.  I don't know
what he was planning to say, but he say the silk
cushion all damp from my spit, and the teeth marks in
it, and snapped "My wife will be very cross about
that, Steve!  She hardly wants your spit on her
cushions, does she?  She took a long time choosing
those.... I think you'd better have two more strokes,
in advance, so to speak..."

"She doesn't mind my spit in her cunt!", I rapped
back.  I just can't seem to control myself, and always
want to get he better of someone else in an argument.

Rob went bright red with rage, shouted "You insolent
fucker!  I'll teach you...."

I lost count after the tenth stroke, and probably
mostly passed out as my beating continued.  And
afterwards it wasn't just on my bum, either - my
thighs were especially painful where the bright red
weals ran across them.

End Of Part Nine