Date: Thu, 12 May 2005 23:42:23 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Labourer, Part 11

THE LABOURER  by Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part 11

There was no way I could work the next day after my
torture, or the day after that, either, and I was
allowed to stay in the barracks when all the other
servants went out to their various tasks.  In one way
it was luxury - all that time to myself, with no fear
of someone driving me on.  But of course I was in
dreadful and acute pain, and every time I stirred in
my bed fresh waves of it went through me.

The first night, as soon as he was back, Craig was
kneeling beside my bed, asking me how I was.  And he
insisted I got up so that he could gently wash me
again in the showers, keeping all the other guys at
bay in case they should carelessly bump into me.  He
did it again on the second night, and as I lay back in
my bed, feeling slightly better, he knelt there again
and very, very gently picked up my dick in his massive
hands.  With infinite care he 'skinned me back,
stopping very time I even gave the slightest twitch of
discomfort, then, to my astonishment, his head came
forward, his tongue came out, and he started to lick
at my dick head.

I winced at first, as the sores from the pincers were
very painful and Craig's slightly acidic spit caused
them to 'fire' slightly.  But the sensuous warmth and
moistness of his tongue as he continued to smooth it
over my head was somehow infinitely comforting.  After
a minute or two he pulled away, as my dick was
stiffening.  "Are you OK, Steve?"

"Yes.... That was great.... But Craig, you're a top...
And you're sucking my dick...."

"Hardly sucking!  But when I'm sore, I get the boys to
use their tongues on me, and I know how good it
feels...."   His head went down again, and I lay there
watching his shoulders move and his head bob up and
down as his tongue slathered all over my dick head.  I
couldn't help it - in spite of the pain I was still
in, I felt myself going erect, and after two days
without sex I was pretty much on edge.  Craig
continued to lap at me, and then he looked up again,
his eyes twinkling and a faint smile on his face.

"You must be getting better, Steve!  This dick of
yours seems to be in working order... I just had a
taste of pre-cum...."

"Craig, you don't have to...."

"Mmmmmm", was the only reply I got, as his head went
down again, and above all the tumult of my injured
body, I got that wonderful sensation that makes you
want to squirm as a man's mouth starts to really work
on your dick.  I heard myself moaning quietly as Craig
continued to work at me, but I had to be careful - if
I did what you usually do when a guy's sucking your
dick and raise your hips to thrust up at him, it hurt
like hell when my butt went down onto the bed again.
But Craig's mouth and tongue were so sensuous that I
needed to do something as my excitement was almost
unbearable.  I wanted it to go on for ever, wanted to
have that big strong guy pleasing me like this.  Even
though my arms were hurting, I put both my hands on
Craig's cropped head and pushed him down onto my dick
so that it went right to the back of his throat; and I
was rewarded by that reflex "kick back" as his head
jerked upwards, trying to stop the gagging I'd caused.
 I let him carry on then, just enjoying the feeling of
his skull under my hands, knowing that I could control
him like that whenever I wanted.  And, of course, when
it was all simply too much and my balls fired and my
cum shot out, I held Craig's head down so that it
filled his mouth - I'm not sure that he wanted to do
that, and he probably would have preferred to let my
cum fountain upwards.  But I think a man who sucks
your dick needs to do the job properly, and drink your
cum, too.

I let Craig up then, and he was half smiling, his eyes
still twinkling.  Without stopping, in one smooth
movement he pushed his face into mine and kissed me!
I was so startled that I opened my mouth in surprise,
and Craig's hot, strong tongue pushed its way in....
And at once I got the taste of my own cum:  he hadn't
swallowed.  He was very careful, though, and kept the
weight of his body right off mine as he rested on his
elbows and just used the force of his head and tongue
to keep us together.  He plunged in and out of me just
as if he was fucking - well, I suppose deep kissing is
some sort of substitute for intercourse - and I
responded, pushing my own tongue back into his mouth
and enjoying the taste of his saliva mixed in with my
own cum. Look, I'd never really kissed a guy before,
but I'd had lots of experience with girls, and this
was utterly different, although in some ways the same,
if you know what I mean.  Instead of me always having
to do all the work and "tongue fuck" them, now it was
both Craig and me going at it together, and it was so
amazingly much better.

We needed to break after a time just to recover, and
Craig kept his head above me, smiling down.

"Bastard!", I said, laughing at him.

"What, Steve? Is there a problem?  Never had a good
mouthful of your own cum before?"

All I could do was smile, and Craig bent down again
and started kissing once more.  When we stopped for
breath a second time, I whispered "Do you do this to
all the guys, then?  Is this your secret?"

"No, Steve.  The others are just for fucking.  I only
do this to guys I like, guys like you.  You don't
think I'd suck the dicks of any of the others, do you?
 I'm a top, like you, remember?  I just fuck them and
leave them."

I lay there just breathing hard, thinking about it.
Craig was about to start again, but I whispered "No,
not now...."

"Scared, Steve?"

"No, of course not!"  Well, I was, actually.  I mean,
since I'd been a servant I'd taken to fucking other
men, but that was really only because they were there
and my dick needed action, and it's natural for a guy
to fuck, isn't it?  But this was something else -
doing kind of really intimate things with another guy
was really odd in some ways, and my head was spinning.

"A lot of men are scared, Steve", Craig went on.
"Especially guys like you who come here saying they're
'straight', as if that was some sort of virtue."

"Well I am..."

"You might have been, when you had no opportunity to
do otherwise, Steve.  But having seen you in action
with the other guys, I can tell you you're pretty
normal.  And now I can see that you respond properly
to another man, I know you're OK."

"What do you mean?"

"Look, a lot of men like you say you're 'straight'
because you've never had the opportunity to really
fuck another guy's ass.  All the time at school and
stuff there's all this 'straight' talk and so guys who
ought to be getting together and bonding, having fun
together, really enjoying their time in the showers
and stuff, are just put off.  And they join in with
the others and talk 'straight', too, as they want to
conform.  But give them half a chance, take them
somewhere where it's OK to fuck guys, and those
so-called 'straight' guys soon learn that a good stiff
dick and a nice ass are designed for each other.  And
then they're just like men in general - most men just
want to take it, but some enjoy giving it, really
enjoy giving it, as you and I do.  But now you've gone
one step further into becoming a real man -  I think
you know now that there's more to sex than just a
quick thrust up the ass with your hard dick....  But
it can be tough to move on to that next stage"

"But this is getting too serious", he went on.  "You
need your sleep!  They're putting you back on the site
tomorrow, I heard."

He got to his feet, and still smiling, walked over to
his own bed.  I lay there really embarrassed, as I
knew most of the other guys would have heard him, and
I suppose I wasn't used still to having absolutely no
privacy, not even for conversations like that -
somehow it wasn't the sex that made me shy, but the
way that Craig had shared his thoughts with me and had
said those things about me.   I tried to sleep, even
though it was difficult - not just because my body was
still hurting all over, but because my mind kept going
on and on, endlessly replaying what Craig had said.
Could it be true?  Did I really like other guys, or,
rather, did I really want sex with other guys?  And
was this normal, or did it matter, or neither, or
both?   If it hadn't been so painful, I'm sure I'd
have spent the time literally "tossing and turning",
but as it was I had to lie still and just watch the
pattern of the tree in the yard on the ceiling as the
moon moved across the sky.  And, as you do, at some
point I did sleep, and was still asleep when it was
time to get up in the morning.

It was true I was going back to work - but the
overseer in charge that morning, Sean, was lenient on
me:  the standard way of making sure that everyone got
out of bed promptly was for the overseer to go along
and pull the blankets off anyone still asleep and give
them a lash across the bare butt with his tawse - not
a hard one, but enough to really make the guy leap up.
 But instead of that, he shook me awake quite gently
(but even then my arm hurt).  "OK, Steve, hit the
showers... Back to work for you today....", he said,
without sounding at all cross that I was still in bed.
 And then in the showers all the other guys were
really great, trying to keep away from me as much as
they could as they knew I hurt all over, and then
being especially gentle as I flinched and gasped as
they soaped me down.

Pulling on my T and shorts was agony, but fortunately
the cane marks on my calves didn't go as far down as
my boot tops, so after I'd struggled to bend enough to
get them on, that wasn't a problem.  Mex saw me doing
this, and at once came and knelt in front of me and
helped me, pulling the boot over my foot, then pulling
the laces tight and knotting them.  He looked up at me
when he was done, and I thanked him, and he just said
"It's OK, Steve - I like to do things for you..."

We were working at a site where they were converting
an old warehouse into new apartments that day, and as
we drove along to get there, I was dreading it.  But
Sean was really good - he knew that stuff like
kneeling to lay concrete, or shovelling, would be
tough for me, and I got stuff that I could do - well,
could do with only a lot of discomfort.  Probably the
easiest part of it was when we were fitting a new
girder to hold up the floor above where a wall had
been knocked down - they were short of some of those
props they use to hold the thing up temporarily, so
Sean got Craig and me to just stand there with a beam
on our heads and hold everything in place.    And,
over the next few days, it gradually got easier and
easier to work again, as my skins and muscles
eventually returned to normal.

There had been a general change to our lives too, at
this time:  when I first went to Rooney's Contracts,
we were required to sleep alone, and it was only in
odd moments that we could have sex, like on those
occasions when a truck failed to turn up that I've
told you about.  I'd wondered how Craig had dared to
suck my dick when I lay there in my bed after my
savage treatment, and now I found out:  a few days
after this I could hear the sound of vigorous fucking
as I tried to get to sleep, and sitting up in bed I
glimpsed Craig's muscular butt pounding up and down on
top of one of the other guys, with them both shouting
and groaning in their passion.  There wasn't any way I
was going to do anything about it at that point as I
was still so uncomfortable, but  I did ask Craig about
it, and he told me that Rooney had decided that we
would all be better adjusted if we weren't always
frustrated, so "free sex" was to be allowed.  Then, a
couple of nights later, just after I'd climbed into
bed, there was Mex standing  by me.

He knelt by my bed, then almost to my amazement buried
his head under the blanket and began to lick all
around my dick and balls!  I reached down for him,
throwing the blanket off, and pushed his head away.
"What the fuck....?"

"Steve, please, let me..."

"Hell, no!  What the fuck do you think you're doing?"

"Please, Steve, I wanted to get you in a good mood, so
we could have a bit of fun..."  As he said this, his
hand reached for my dick, and he began to stroke it,
and, as you might expect as the thrill of his fingers
on my dick did its work, I began to throw a bone.
"Please, Steve.... Let's have some fun....", he said
again.  "You're ready for it, and so am I...."

"No, Mex.  It's Craig who always fucks you."  Well, it
was - on those occasions when we'd been able to do a
little fucking on site, Mex had always sidled up to
Craig, and Craig had generally obliged.  I'd looked at
Mex's body, of course, noting the darker sheen to his
skin and the glossy black hair, and I have to say I
had wondered what it would be like to prise his
somewhat narrow butt apart and get stuck in.  But not
here, not with all the other guys listening.

"Yes, Steve.... It's usually Craig.  But the other
guys all say that you're the best.  Please, Steve..."
And now as he said this his mouth went down over my
dick again before I could stop him, and his tongue
started to drive me almost wild as my 'skin had
slipped back and he was teasing my dick head and piss
slit."

I pulled him away.  "I told you 'no'", I snapped.  "I
don't feel like fucking tonight."

"Bastard!", he whispered.  "I can see from your dick
that you're ready for action.  I'd never had you
marked down as one of those prejudiced guys..."

"What do you mean?"

"You fuck the others, but you won't fuck me as I'm a
Mexican.  That's prejudice, Steve."

"No it isn't.  I don't want to fuck anyone tonight.  I
don't want to do it here, in the barracks, not with
you, not with anyone."

"Why not?"

"I don't want the others listening, knowing what I'm
doing..."

"So you're scared?  I never thought a big guy like you
would be too scared to fuck... You're not like Craig."
 As he said this I could hear the characteristic
slapping noises of skin on skin and the stifled cries
and moans and knew that Craig must be in action.  And
now this little Mexican runt was accusing me of being
scared!  Well, I couldn't have that, could I?

Look, after you've lived for months in a crowd of guys
you lose a lot of your inhibitions.  I was used to
getting out of bed with my morning hard on, showering
with them, crapping on one of the exposed lavatories,
working with them in just a tiny pair of shorts, and
slipping into bed naked at the end of the day in front
of them, and then lying there jerking off, knowing
that they all knew that's what I was doing, as it was
what they were doing.  And, if the truth be known, a
lot of the fucking I'd done on sites wasn't all that
private -   we were usually in groups of at least
four, so if I fucked one of them, two of the others
would have seen, or at least heard if we'd tried to
get some concealment.  But there's a bit of a
difference between that and blatantly starting to fuck
a guy when fourteen others are listening, if not
watching.  But Mex had made me so angry by in effect
calling me a coward, that I swung out of bed, grabbed
his arm, smacked him hard across the butt with my open
palm, snapped "Right, you little fucker....", and
pushed him down on to my bed, on his back.

I think he hardly knew what was happening to him as he
hadn't expected me to react so quickly, and I roughly
grabbed his ankles to push his feet wide apart, and
almost up to his ears!  His ass came up off the bed
and I saw his hole against his darker skin, and that
was all I needed - I shuffled forward, and pushed my
dick at it, hard, very hard.

He knew what he was about, I'll say that for him.
Some guys really are bottoms, really know what they
want, and are just too eager to take a dick up them -
it almost spoils it for an aggressive guy like me who
wants to have to force it a bit.  So OK my dick was
still slathered with his spit, but even so I was
expecting a nice hard fuck - a few trial stabs to get
in, then some resistance as I buried myself really
deep, as you can when the guy's on his back and his
legs are really spread.  But there was almost no
problem with Mex - he didn't scream or anything, just
gave a long, deep sigh as my dick skewered him, and I
found my pubes right up against his butt.  I realised
he must have prepared - he'd presumably lubed himself
with his cum before coming up to me, as even the most
used bottom I've ever had normally feels something if
you just go in dry, with only a bit of spit!

So who was really the top, I wondered, as my reflexes
cut in and I started to fuck him vigorously.  I was
supposed to be in charge, I was supposed to be making
the running, but this total bottom had lubed himself
and then engineered it so that I had to fuck him!  The
more I thought about this, the crosser I got, and I
reached through his legs and leaned forward so that my
shoulders pushed his legs even further down, and
grabbed hold of his dark brown tits.  As I squeezed
them - really hard - between my thumb and forefinger
and then pulled them upwards a long way, Mex's look of
ecstasy changed to one of surprise, then to one almost
of terror.  I synchronised my thrusting in with really
tight squeezes and pulling of his tits, and was
rewarded with cries and moans from deep down in his
throat.

I changed pace, so that I pulled out almost
completely, just leaving the tip of my dick positioned
at his ass, then slamming in the whole way until my
pubic bone really hit his sensitive areas around his
ass, all the time continuing to work his tits.  And
now he couldn't help it - every time I did this, he
gave a shout, perfectly involuntarily, as he lost
control.  I was enjoying it now, especially as I could
see the emotions playing over his face, one moment
almost laughing, the next almost crying, the next
constricted in a rictus of pain - and all in
synchronisation to what I was doing to his ass and his
tits.  I began to grunt, too,  and mutter "there, you
fucker....", and I could feel big beads of sweat
forming on me and flying off as my body worked away.
But it was over all too quickly - I can't fuck at that
intensity for very long, as it's just too exciting:
I've got lots of energy left, it's not that - no, it's
that dick and my balls that conspire to stop me really
having hours of fun.  My butt and thighs and arms and
brain all wanted to go on pounding away at Mex, using
him for my total enjoyment, but older, deeper reflexes
cut in as I could feel that utterly fantastic
sensation as you know you're going to let fire.  I did
everything I could to stop it, and that only increases
the pleasure and the sensation and makes it even more
unstoppable, doesn't it?  My back arched, as if  I was
trying to force the last millimetre of my dick into
Mex, and I gave a great shout of "Jesus! Fuccckk....."
 as my body went rigid for a few instants, and I had
that tiny, quiet moment as my balls jerked, my dick
spasmed, and my seed shot out deep into him.

When I collapsed forward onto him a few moments later
I ought to have been embarrassed as the sound of
cheering went around the barracks!  But I didn't care
any longer - there's no shame in doing what a man is
supposed to do, I now knew.  This is what I was
designed for - to use other men's asses for my
excitement, to fuck them to give me these incredible
sensations of power, to show them who was in charge.

My face was almost pressed into he bed by the side of
Mex's, and I could feel his legs gripping me around my
waist as if he wanted to stop me pulling out, wanted
to keep my dick in him now that it had conquered him.
His hands were scrabbling almost feebly up and down my
muscular back, sliding over the sweat that was
covering it.  I could feel my heart racing, and his,
too, as my chest slid over his as we lay there.
Actually, in spite of how it may sound from that
description of fucking, I'm a considerate kind of guy
and I realised almost instantly that Mex would be
suffering if I just lay there, so I took most of my
weight on my elbows so he could breathe more easily,
then continued to lie there, just enjoying the moment.

"Fucking hell, Steve.... They're right!  That was
awesome.... Thanks...", Mex muttered into my ear.
"You're the best - believe me, I know."

"You OK then, man?"  I added almost unnecessarily, but
you have to say something at times like this, don't
you?  "...you're not hurt?"

"Fucking hell, I hurt all over!  My ass has never had
a pounding like that!  My tits will be sore for days!
I think you've almost broken something pushing my ass
apart like that.... But it's great!".  As he said
this, Mex gripped me even tighter with his arms and
legs, and was almost giggling with laughter into my
ear.  "You really hurt, Steve.  When you slammed into
me, it was.... Well, you know... Just fucking amazing.
 You're the best."

Once more, something about sex had been revealed to me
- some guys actually wanted to be hurt, wanted to be
used hard.  As I lay there I began to think that Mex
liked to be taken hard and rough like that, in much
the same was as I knew I needed to be tawsed and caned
when working - it increased the satisfaction for him.
No, indeed, it probably gave him the satisfaction that
he wasn't able to get in other ways.

The next couple of weeks were the best I've ever had
in my life!  Well, the best as far as sex is
concerned, anyway - work was tough, as usual, and as I
wanted it to be, and I got a fair bit of tawsing and
caning, but it was "fair" as I needed it to drive my
body on.  No, what I mean is that although I used to
have a lot of sex before I was indentured, now it was
there, on tap almost, whenever I could find the time!
Mex had gone around telling everyone that I really was
the best, that the others might have thought so, but
he knew, and he was experienced!  So every night there
was another ass to screw, or, if I was feeling
especially tired, I could just throat fuck them.  And
the amazing thing was that even if I made a man gag
and choke as I insisted that he took all my long dick
right down, that only added to my reputation as a
"proper top" who knew how to deal with another man.
Craig and I were discussing this on the way to work in
the truck one morning, and he just said "I told you,
Steve - these guys like a real aggressive top to
really show them the fun of sex.  When you or I aren't
there, they know they're just playing at it - they
think they're fucking each other, but they know that
it's only you or me who will make them do it, if we
choose;  only you or me who fucks them solely for our
fun, not for theirs;  only you or me who don't give a
shit whether they're enjoying it or not, as long as we
are.   We get our enjoyment from just doing as we want
to, utterly disregarding the other guy;  but
paradoxically they get theirs from just being used,
used and ignored by us."

The one guy I wouldn't fuck, though, was young Joey.
And I wouldn't even let him suck my dick when he was
shaving us in the showers.  Somehow it didn't seem
right to have this young kid doing things like that,
and, actually, I didn't really fancy having to push
myself between his thin butt cheeks - I like a bit
more muscle there!  But it didn't stop him trying -
several times he came to my bed and did what the
others did, pushing their heads down onto my dick, but
I always stopped him, and he seemed quite upset.  And
one day in the showers, as he was working away at me,
he just kept moving his lips onto my dick between
every stroke of the razor - he was really pissing me
off, and I told him to stop it several times, but he
persisted.   "You let the other guys do it, Steve", he
whined.  "I don't care if you make me gag, or even
puke - we're in the showers."

"I won't tell you again, Joey.  Leave my dick alone -
I choose where it's going, not some punk kid like
you!"

But he didn't, of course, and I felt him nuzzling at
me again.  I was so pissed off that I just didn't
think - I bent over slightly, and slapped him hard, on
the side of the face.  A lot harder than I thought,
actually  it's difficult to gauge these things
sometimes when you're as strong as I am.  The sound
rang like a pistol shot around the showers, followed
by Joey's startled cry, and he fell sideways onto the
floor.

I suppose I was lucky that none of the overseers was
in there, as I'd certainly have been prodded, and
probably caned as well, as fighting amongst the
servants was strictly forbidden.  A couple of the guys
grabbed me and I struggled to shake them off, and it
was Craig who stood there and shouted "Enough, Steve!
Calm down!  Let it go!"

I realised what I'd done, and went to pull Joey to his
feet, but he sort of half scooted across the floor of
the showers and lay there against the bare legs of
some of the other guys.  "Hey, Joey, I'm sorry...", I
began.  And I was, too,  genuinely sorry.  I really
had not meant to hit him that hard.  But he just lay
there, looking at me, not in anger as I might have
expected, but really more in sorrow.  And as I
watched, a tear came down his cheek; then realising
what he'd done, he scrambled to his feet and ran out -
I guess that knowing all of us men had seen him cry
was worse than the pain of the slap itself.

"Sometime, Steve, you really are a bastard!", Craig
told me.  "Don't you remember what you were like at
sixteen?"

"Yes... And I wasn't going around trying to suck guys'
dicks....".  I tried to make it sound like a joke, as
Craig seemed pretty cross.

"It's time you took some responsibility, Steve!
You're meant to be in charge, remember?"

"What do you mean?"

"You're an aggressive top, or so we all thought.
You're in control, right?"

"Right - and you told me it's only me that I have to
worry about..."

"Yes.  When you're playing with other guys like
yourself, old enough to know what they want, and happy
to take it from you.  But Joey's only sixteen, he's
still a kid.  Of course he wants your dick, it's part
of growing up for him - you're his hero, Steve:  he
wants to be big and tough like you in a few years.
And he knows you let every other guy here take your
dick, so why shouldn't he?  You're telling him he's
not good enough to be a real man, not good enough to
take dick from Steve!  That's no way to treat a kid,
Steve - he's got a tough enough life here as it is,
without you making it harder for him?"

Craig was warming to his theme now, almost shouting at
me, but with some sort of controlled anger in his
voice that I'd never heard before.  "What would it
have cost you to have stuck it down his throat?  If
he'd gagged and choked and puked up all over the floor
here, at least he'd have thought he was on the road to
growing up to be a real man.  And now you've
humiliated him in front of all of us - no man likes to
be seen crying in front of another."

With that, Craig turned away and walked out of the
showers, and I could tell by the way his body was all
stiff that he was really pissed off.  The others, too,
shuffled away, not really looking at me.

It was no fun at work that day at all - well, it never
was, of course.  But on the way there no one spoke to
me in the truck.  Or on the way back,  or in the
showers.  And as I lay in bed that night, waiting for
someone to come and relieve my dick, no one did.  I
heard Craig and a couple of the others fucking away,
but I was left alone.  And it was almost humiliating
to have to jerk myself off when I realised they were
all giving me the cold shoulder.

They carried on ignoring me for three days, and then,
when we got back from the site that night, Joey came
into other showers again.  I was already in a foul
mood - I was really miserable without any contact from
the other guys, and it had made me careless at work,
so I'd had more than my fair share of cane strokes
that day.  Well, in truth, I suppose that's not right
- I was careless, so the overseer should have been
caning me, so I suppose it was "fair", but that's not
the way it felt.  I was exhausted, my shoulders were
aching from the tawse, and my butt was still stinging
from the most recent strokes of the cane.  But most of
all I was pissed off with my fellows, and with myself.

Joey knelt in front of me, and I just snapped out "I
told you to leave my dick alone, you young fucker!  Do
you want another tap?  Do you want to start snivelling
again?"

He just glared at me.  "Fuck you, Steve!  Open your
legs, as I've got to shave your balls again.  Mister
Rooney says your indenture holder is visiting tonight,
and he wants you nice and smooth as they'll probably
want to play again!"

If I was feeling pissed off and depressed before, I
certainly was now.  And over all of it I had a great
black wall of fear, at the thought of what they might
do to me this time.

End Of Part 11