Date: Tue, 10 May 2005 09:55:31 -0700 (PDT)
From: Pete Brown <petebrownuk@yahoo.com>
Subject: The Labourer, Part 9

THE LABOURER  by Pete Brown.  petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part 9

As you might have guessed, Danny talked!  Once we were
back at Rooney's place that night I could see him
chatting and whispering to the other guys - he tended
to be one of those who "hung out" at the end of the
barracks rather than going straight to sleep.  And the
next morning in the showers, I started to get the
"benefit" of this - guys brushed past my body now, no
longer casually and unavoidably as the showers were so
crowded, but with a seemingly deliberate intent to
move their butts against my dick.  You know that I've
usually got a morning wood, and although I mostly
managed to control it after I'd been awake for a
couple of minutes, I was still a bit "on edge", and so
having a lot of firm male flesh constantly rubbing
against it in the showers made it stir into life
again, and I began to stand there erect. That only
drove some of the guys on, of course, and they tried
to do things like bend down to pick up the soap
directly in front of me, then "casually" push
backwards....

That morning Craig and I were working in the same gang
together and as we sped off to the site he settled
himself against me in the back of the truck, and
whispered, trying not to move his lips too much (we
could talk like this, as the overseer could only watch
us through the rear view mirror and couldn't actually
hear us) "So, I've got help!  Look, I don't mind, so
don't worry about upsetting me."

I really had no idea what he was talking about.  So I
hissed back, keeping my own lips still "Sure, Craig.
Thanks.  But what don't you mind?"

"Who you fuck.  I've had the field to myself up until
now, but now you've come along and you're a top too,
that's great!  We might even manage a session together
one day, who knows, and really pound into some of the
others...."

"What?"

"Oh, come on, Steve!  You must know the way it is!
There's never really enough of us tough, aggressive
tops to go around - most guys like to lie there and
take it, rather than going hard at it, like you and
me.  They manage, of course - they need sex as much as
everyone, and so one of a pair sooner or later manages
to give it to the other, but it's not as good for
either of them as if they had you or me really pushing
it into them, is it?  I mean, you must know how
desperate most guys are for someone who knows how to
wield a dick... In the county jail wasn't it the
same?"

Oh fuck me!  Here I was, going to have to compound my
lies again.  But there was no going back now.  So I
dissembled, saying "Yes, I just hadn't thought of it
that way before."

"Well, as I said, it's a bit of a relief, actually -
all these guys always pleading to get my dick whenever
there's a spare minute.  And I don't have any
favourites, so I don't care which of them you fuck.
To tell you the truth,  I was relieved when Danny said
that you were a really great fucker - I was looking at
you and wondering if you'd be after my dick, too, like
the others..."

"Oh no, I don't like taking dick.  Mister Rooney and
his buddy stuck it to me the first day I was here, and
it was awful."

"Sure, Steve.  Rooney always takes the asses of the
new guys.  The fucker did it to me, too.  First time
for a long time, a very long time, I can tell you.   I
guess it was the same for you?"

"Sure.  The first time, actually.  The only time."

"Hey, Steve, you must be a real top!  You never took
it before, not even when you ere young?"

"No."

"Hey, man, that first day must have been tough, then!
No wonder you went around looking like a wet weekend
when we first saw you!  Still, I don't suppose he'll
fuck you again - Rooney only does it to show his
authority over all of us.  He just has that young Joey
- well, he's only a young guy, isn't he, and I expect
you've looked at his body?"

I mumbled, as quietly as I could, "Oh, yes."

"Well Joey's like a lot of guys - his dick's OK, but
his body hasn't finished developing.  If you look at
his butt you can see  there's a long way to go yet -
if he was worked really hard he'd soon put a lot more
muscled on there and I think he'd probably have a
really tempting nice round butt that would be worth
forcing your dick through.  But I think Rooney likes
them kind of tender, as he is now:  slender and kind
of virginal!  Not a real man's fuck, in my view, eh?

Well, what was I supposed to do?  I'd never looked at
guys' bodies before critically, with a view to sizing
them up for fucking!  But Craig sort of expected it -
it was as if he'd think me less of a man if I admitted
to not having thought about all the other guys from
the point of view of fucking them.  I couldn't have
that, could I?  So I muttered back "Yes, it's OK if
you really need to get your juices out of course, but
give me a real man, a strong muscular butt, every
time."

"I can see you're going to really enjoy it here,
Steve!  The one thing that all the work gives us is
firm butts and rock solid thighs!  But I hear that you
like to fuck throat as well...."

"Well, doesn't everyone?", I murmured, trying to be as
noncommittal as possible.

"Fucking right!  Real tops like you and me know that
it puts the bottom really in his place if you fuck his
throat and make him gag before you get down to the
serious business.  And Danny says you like to play a
bit rough, too - slapped him around, didn't you?"

"Only once!"

"That's it, Steve!  The secret!  Just enough to remind
those snivelling cocksuckers that you're in charge,
you're the top.  Hey, Steve, you're a guy after my own
heart - I'm like that, too:   a bit of rough play,
before the serious business.  We're really going to
have to work on it and get a good session going..."

"I thought Mister Rooney didn't let us guys have
sex...."

"No, he doesn't.  But as you saw yesterday, there are
ways and means.  Sometimes the overseers can't
supervise us as it's only a small job, or it might be
a big job when there's a serious hold-up:  they'll
turn a blind eye to what we do then, as if they try to
make us do 'fake work', or just do exercises, or
something, the other guys on the site complain - a lot
of the free men feel pretty bad about the way we're
treated at the best of times.  So there are
opportunities, and you just have to keep your eyes
open."

We were approaching the site now, and Craig fell
silent.  And I sat there thinking about all of this -
what the fuck was I going to do now?  I'd dug myself
even deeper in the hole, not exactly lying to Craig,
but I'm sure he wouldn't see it that way, even had I
been able to produce a transcript of our conversation,
which of course I could not.  I'd just have to hope
that none of those "opportunities" resented themselves
to me!  I mean, I liked Craig - he was very similar to
me in many ways: about the same age, with the same
big-framed tall body, nicely muscled.  And he appeared
to have graduated High School, as I had, unlike a
couple of the guys who I'd tried to talk to and who
appeared to be thick as pig shit.  But there's a
difference between liking a guy, and wanting to have
sex with him.

That day we were digging trenches again, and as we
toiled away I realised that there were two forms of
inducement to make me work - the overseer's tawse kept
landing on my bare shoulders as I'd come to expect,
and there'd be the occasional cut of the cane if I
ever stopped, even for a moment.  But from the moment
we'd arrived Craig had contrived to work next to me,
and it was as if we were competing with each other - I
saw a faint smile across his face as I lifted my first
shovel full of spoil, and saw that his shovel was
actually overflowing.  Then when I started taking
really big shovelsful, he started working even faster
than the overseers drove us to!

I could feel his eyes on me all the time, and I knew
we were in a real competition with each other:  it's
one of those things guys do, almost unconsciously,
isn't it?  You just can't help it - you see another
guy, look at what he's doing, and you just want to do
better, no, you need to do better!  The harder Craig
worked, the harder I worked, and the harder I worked,
the harder he worked.  By the time we got to our brief
break for "lunch", we were both pretty much done in, I
reckon, and it was equally clear that neither of us
was ahead!  That afternoon was sheer unadulterated
hell for each of us - we ere almost totally exhausted,
and Sean, the overseer that day, had of course seen
what we were capable of doing in the morning - so he
was determined that we shouldn't "slack" in the
afternoon.   So the blows rained down onto both of us,
and as we genuinely faltered as our strength failed,
Sean didn't have the good sense to realise that our
morning's efforts truly had been exceptional and we
couldn't keep it up.  But you can, of course - well,
you can if the overseer just doesn't care how much he
hurts you.

Both Craig and I were soon almost shouting out with
the pain as Sean tore into us, and even though I knew
I was "through the barrier" and was burning up that
extra ten percent of strength and power, it wasn't
enough:  it was no longer the tawse on our bare
shoulders now, but hard swipes from Sean's cane,
normally reserved for the big muscles of the butt.
And if you've ever had a cane come down across your
shoulders, you'll know that it's a wholly new level of
pain lurking there, without the muscle to cushion it,
and with the tips of your shoulder blades being very
sensitive anyway.  Now Craig and I were looking at
each other, as we had been all morning, but these
looks were no longer of defiance and challenge as we
were forced to continue to compete against each other,
but of despair and defeat.

It was lucky for us that the site closed promptly at
six that evening - if they'd said we had to work on,
to finish, I believe that both Craig and I would have
been destroyed totally.  As it was, we didn't even
have the energy or enthusiasm to whisper to each other
on the journey "home" - our backs were so sore we
couldn't even rest against the cool metal sides of the
truck, and just sat there, our heads buried between
our hunched up knees, as we tried to protect our
inflamed skin.  And the hot water didn't really revive
us in the shower, either - and Craig told a couple of
the guys who were thrusting their butts against him to
fuck off!  I realised it was OK to do that, and I did
the same, noticing that the guys seemed to have even
more respect for me.  I'd obviously  got a lot to
learn about being a "top"!

As it so happens one of those "occasions" occurred the
next day on a site - six of us were crawling around
doing paving, when they ran out of paving stones.
Sean was the overseer, but he chose to go off and sit
in the site manager's office and chat, so all of us
were left to our own devices.  We went off and found a
quiet corner, behind a big pile of materials that were
waiting to be used, and it was warm and sunny.  We all
stretched out on the grass, and  I lay there just
enjoying the sunshine, and doing nothing.   Id almost
drifted off into one of those lovely brief dozes that
I now never had, when there was a thump beside me and
a guy's hand rested itself on my belly and started to
move slowly, very slowly, up towards my pecs.

"Hey....", I snapped, as I came out of my half-dreamy
state.

"Steve, can we have a bit of fun?"

"What?"

"We're not going to have to work again today, I'll
bet.... So can we play, Steve?  Come on...."

I grasped the wrist of the hand that was now stroking
me, the fingers playing with the hair on my chest, and
sat up.   I glared down at Ted, a guy who was about my
age, but only five ten or so, although, like all of
us, well muscled.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?", I snarled.

"Hey, Steve.... I only wanted to, well, you know, play
a bit....  Danny told us all about how good you were,
and as we haven't got anything else to do this
afternoon, I thought, well, you know..."

I looked at Ted, and was going to tell him to piss
off, as I knew it was OK to do that now, but, on the
other hand, I'd not really jerked off the day before,
and I was feeling kind of horny.  Craig was looking at
me, and it occurred to me I needed to be careful what
I said, for fear of giving myself away.  I thought
about having Ted suck me off but the more I thought
about it, the more it seemed to be a waste - he had a
nice body, and feeling his skin against mine was a bit
of a turn on.  I looked over and saw Craig was already
starting to position a Mexican guy, who we all just
called Mex, on the ground, bending his legs
upwards.... and I thought to myself, why the hell not?


"Get those shorts off, and on your knees....", I said,
and was almost pleased to see Ted give me a big broad
grin.  If he was so eager, it would be easy.  He did
as I'd said, and knelt there, his shoulders right
down, so his butt was ready for me.  I knelt between
his legs, and for a moment wondered if  I was going to
be able to do it - but the sight of Ted's ass made me
go hard, so I spat on my hands and slathered the spit
over my dick to lube me a little.   I pushed his butt
cheeks apart,  positioned my dick at his ass hole, and
pushed.  I heard Ted groan, and for a moment I was
worried that I was doing something wrong, or that I
should have lubed him or something.  But he'd asked
for it, hadn't he?

"This is going to be a rough fuck,....", I muttered,
and simply slammed into him.  Ted gave a great groan,
more of a shout of pain,  and his body almost moved
forward against my onslaught, but  I was in.    It was
so exciting that I didn't want to stop - I could feel
Ted's ass gripping my dick, and that felt fantastic.
I started to thrust in and out of him, in a way that
was giving me most fun, and frankly I stopped even
thinking about Ted or what he wanted or how he wanted
it.  I could hear him, almost as if it was an exciting
counterpoint to my rhythm, grunting and crying out
faintly in time to my activity, and I didn't care -
he'd asked for it, hadn't he?  And what matters most
is the guy on top, isn't it?  I mean, when you're
fucking a guy, it's you that matters really - you're
in charge, you're doing all the work, and he's just
there to service you.  So as my excitement mounted my
strokes got harder and harder, and Ted's body was
twitching and shuddering as he knelt there and just
had to take it.  I was vaguely aware of his hands
twitching away - he'd kind of folded his arms to
cradle his head in, and I could see his fingers
flexing and extending, and almost beating up and down
of the  grass.  Ted was beginning to shout now, and  I
was worried that all the noise he was making might
attract other guys from the site, so  without breaking
my stroke I reached forward and pressed my fingers and
thumb into his corded neck muscles, and pushed his
face down.  "Shut the fuck up!",  I snapped, and in
some way Ted responded to this, understanding from the
pressure of my fingers that I was totally in control,
and his cries descended into just the loud groans
again.

As I've said, I hadn't jerked myself off the night
before, so I was pretty much on edge - and it was over
all too soon.  I felt my balls beginning to contract,
and so I had one final massive slam into Ted, really
trying to force the last millimetre of my dick into
him, and was rewarded with that delicious sensation as
the streams of hot cum shot down my dick, and high up
into Ted.

I was thinking about lying with Ted for a few minutes
and kind of buddying up to him, but for some reason I
didn't - I just pulled out and knelt there, my dick
still dribbling with the last of my cum, and watched
Ted stayed there, his butt still high in the air and
his head pressed down into his arms.  He was silent
now, his sobbing halted, and I was about to say
something - well, actually, I was feeling a bit guilty
about the way I'd treated him, and might have a
apologised or something .  Well, not that I'd got
anything to apologise for, as he'd asked for it,
hadn't he?  But Ted moved, kind of uncurled himself
and knelt there, too.  He turned around to face me,
and said "Wow, Steve!  Thanks!"

"You OK?"

"Hey, yes.  A bit sore.  But that was some epic fuck,
Steve.   It's true what they say - you're a real top,
aren't you?"

I just shrugged, and pointed at my dick.  "Go and get
some water, and clean me off."

"Hey, man... Clean yourself...."

I suppose I was still in "control" mode as it was as
if my body knew exactly what to do.  My hand snaked
out and  I grabbed Ted's arm, and almost pulled him
off balance.  "Listen, fucker, when you've been fucked
by me, you do what you're told!  Now, go and fetch
some water or something and clean me off, or else
you'll find I can use my body in other ways, rather
less pleasant!"  As I said this I stretched my body so
that  I was towering over Ted.  He in turn looked at
me, and I tightened my fingers around his arm, and
applied pressure.  I could see Ted grimace, not
wanting to admit that I was hurting him, and then he
gave in -  I could almost visibly see him crumble in
front of me, and he nodded.  "Sure thing, Steve....",
he muttered.

I lay back on the grass, just revelling in the
sunshine, the feeling of the grass on my bare skin,
and that fantastic sensation sweeping over me that you
get when you've just fucked.  I almost drifted off to
sleep, but there was a noise, and I opened my eyes,
squinting against the bright sun, and there was Ted
with a bucket.

So, OK, the water was cold, and that's a bit of a
shock on your dick and balls.  But having Ted bending
over me using his hands and a scrap of cloth he'd
found from somewhere to wash my dick and clean it of
his crap was rather exciting.  I almost groaned with
pleasure as he skinned me back and gingerly started to
wipe at my dick head, but like a lot of guys who
aren't used to it, he was so fucking clumsy that he
managed to almost hurt me by his handling of my head.
"Watch it!", I shouted, my voice rising in pitch, and
I saw Ted shrink a bit as me muttered "Sorry, Steve!".

When he'd finished he knelt there, and looked down at
me.  "Thanks, Steve....", he said.  "Can we do that
again?"

"Maybe."  I decided to be almost noncommittal as
although I'd enjoyed the whole thing, I didn't really
want to have to agree to fucking Ted again - after
all, something inside said, there were all those
other guys that Craig had said wanted a top to fuck
them!  Maybe it would be fun t otry them  As I
speculated about this, and about how my attitude to
sex had changed, I glanced around and saw Craig was
just finishing up - the Mexican he'd gone for was on
his back and Craig had the guy's legs around his
shoulders.  I watched Craig's back and butt working
away, and then saw that unmistakable final thrust as
Craig must have finished.  He did fall forward onto
Mex, and it looked kind of erotic as the dark, hairy
legs of Mex wrapped themselves around Craig's waist,
as if he wanted to hold Craig inside him and not let
him go.

Ted had been right, actually, and we weren't asked to
work again that day - Craig soon finished up with Mex,
and came and sat beside me on the grass.  "So, how's
it going?"

"Fine, thanks..."

"See what I mean?  All these guys only want one thing
- a big dick up inside them!  That Ted's a real whore
- he's always trying to get his ass around my dick, so
I'm glad you gave him a good hard fucking:  perhaps
that will make him sore for a few days, and he'll stop
whining at me to service him."

"Do you get a lot of that, then?"

"You'll see!  As I told you, there's only you and me
who really like fucking.... The others do it, but
they'd rather have a real stud like you and me doing
it to them.  So are we going to have another go?  It's
too good an opportunity to miss - we don't often get
time off like this, it's a great afternoon...."

"Count me out - one good fuck a day is enough for
me..."

"A guy like you, Steve?  You looked to me as if you
could go on for ever."

Was he challenging me, I wondered.  Was this some sort
of competition, to see which of us was the best?  I
could hardly ignore that, could I?

"It's quality, not quantity, that counts for me,
Craig!"  I kept my tone light, almost joking.  "One
really good fuck a day is fine for me."

"Oh, come on, Steve - look, two down, two to go.
We've got Dave and Todd over there who are just
panting for it.  You can't disappoint them - one each,
you and me...."

"No, count me out, as  I said. I just want to get a
bit of sun...."

Craig went on a couple more times, but I'd learned
that it was OK to say "no" - one of the things about
being in control is that you don't have to be always
at the beck and call of the other guys, as it's you
who makes the running.  If Craig wanted to tire
himself out just fucking because they wanted to, more
fool him.  I could hear the other guys listening to
us, and the more I said "no", as I'd had my fill today
with Ted, the more they seemed to respect me.  And
when Craig finally gave up and pulled Todd over to the
side to begin fucking him, I think  I detected that
Todd was not altogether happy - sure, he'd been
begging Craig to fuck him, but now, seeing that Craig
did it so willingly, it seemed somehow less
satisfactory.

After that day off, though, there weren't all that
many opportunities for fucking - I suppose that, on
average, I managed to do it about twice a week, and
the more I did it, the better it got:  for one think,
I stopped worrying about doing it wrong, stopped
worrying about making mistakes, and just totally
focussed on enjoying myself.  If it was less
satisfactory for the other guy, I stopped caring - and
in some way, my reputation as a "hard top" was
improved:  the guys were saying that I was one "mean
bastard" but that I knew how to use my dick.  When I
overheard comments like this in the barracks, I felt
really proud.

It must have been about six weeks later that my next
lesson about life as an indentured servant was meted
out.  I'd got totally used to the lack of privacy, had
ceased to notice the boring, awful chow bars, and was
used to the feeling of the tawse on my skin to
"encourage" me - I now realised that the overseers did
this a lot, to "remind us they were watching, and it
was only if you continued to not give everything you
could that they moved on to the cane.  And of course
towards the end of a long, hard day, the canes would
be swishing around a lot - that was OK, it was
expected, and it was doing what, deep down, I knew I
needed:  that final "spur" to make me go the extra
mile.  I was just wiping myself down after the evening
shower, when young Joey came in and told me to get
back under the water, as he'd been told to "clean me
up".

I asked him why, and he looked kind of scared, saying
only that "Mister Rooney ordered it", and "Pleas,
Steve.... Let me do it, or he'll punish me."  Well, it
wasn't that bad - I mean, I'd had my pubes trimmed and
my balls shaved when I arrived, and every now and then
Joey came into the showers and went around us all
"tidying us up" - I'd kind of got used to the feel of
the razor against my skin, and actually having another
guy handling me there.  So  I just stood there,
looking down at the young lad's white back as he knelt
there shaving me.  And I didn't even mind when, seeing
that the overseers weren't looking, he took the tip of
my dick in his mouth and almost kissed it!

"Cut it out, Joey", I said, keeping my tone light, so
that he knew I wasn't really cross.  "I've had a hard
day..."

"Please, Steve... You've fucked all the other guys, or
so they say.... Let me at least blow you..."

"Joey, no!  I'm tired out.... And what's all this
about anyway?"

He looked up at me, and looked almost scared.  "Mister
Rooney said you were to be cleaned up.  He's got
another guy with him, and when you're finished, you've
got to go over to the house with me...."

At that moment Sean the overseer came in and snapped
at both of us to get a move on, as Mister Rooney was
waiting, and Joey stood up and helped me dry myself.
Sean told me to put on a clean polo and shorts, Joey
did the same, and I walked after him along the walkway
to the main house.  Joey led me into the big reception
room, told me to stand there in front of the
fireplace, and, as I had learned to, I adopted the
"resting" stance with my feet a little apart, my hands
clasped behind my back, and my head bowed.

I stood there for what seemed like an age, then I
heard voices outside the room, speaking loudly as you
do when you've had a couple of drinks and are in a
very good mood.  The doors opened and Rob and Mike
came in.

The noise stopped abruptly, then Rob burst out
"Fucking hell!  He looks even better....".  He came
over and stood in front of me, put one finger under my
chin and pushed upwards, so I knew that I was supposed
to raise my head.   In some ways this was one of the
most humiliating things that had ever happened to me -
I mean, a guy ought to be able to look around freely,
oughtn't he, and yet I had to stand eyes cast down
until I was given permission to raise them. Looking me
straight in the eye my oldest buddy said "Steve, this
life suits you!  You look fantastic... You always were
a stud, but now you're fucking amazing!"

"Do you want to inspect him, Rob", Mike asked.  "I
mean, you're the primary indenture holder.  Do you
want to make sure we're taking really good care of
your investment?"

"I guess so, Mike."

"Steve, drop those shorts!", Mike rapped, and, when I
hesitated, "You still haven't learned, have you?  You
obey my orders at once, and completely, else it's  the
horse for you!"

Look, I don't know why I hesitated.  I'd spent enough
time naked with the other labourers by now, and I'd
never been particularly body shy anyway.  And now that
I'd discovered real sex, and knew that there were so
any men lusting after my body, why on earth should I
care?  But perhaps it was having Rob there, or perhaps
it was being inside a normal room, not a barracks... I
don't know really.  But Mike's words had a chill ring
to them, and I remembered the last time I'd been in
this room.  Quickly I slid the shorts to the floor,
then pulled the polo over my head, and resumed the
"rest" position, now acutely conscious that the eyes
of both men were on me.

"He's amazing", Rob said again.  "Absolutely superb -
whilst I've been away on that assignment I was telling
you about you must have really been working him hard."

"Oh, not particularly - just the same as all the other
guys.  Although as he was pretty well set up to start
with, that extra ten percent does really look
special."  Changing his tone, Mike rapped at me "Turn
around, so we can see your back, and clasp your hands
behind your neck so they don't hide your butt."

I did as I was told, and Rob exclaimed "Jesus!  Those
stripes...."

"Oh, they only show up more because his ass is so
white compared to the tan on the rest of him."

"But they're all over his butt..."

"Of course.  He was out working today, so I assume
that this afternoon we really needed to 'encourage'
him.  I can see eight lines from here, and that would
be about right to have kept him at peak form for an
extra couple of hours - once you get one of those
stinging across your butt, it focusses you and you
keep going for fifteen or twenty minutes."

"But doesn't it hurt....?"

"Oh no - there's no permanent damage to the servant.
Of course it hurts at the time, but that's the idea.
But simple weals like that will be raised for a couple
of days, then will fade.  If you take a closer look
you'll see a lot of fainter residual marks, and you
can feel some of the more recent swellings, too...."

As he said this, Mike came over and I could feel both
men really close behind me.  Then a hand grazed itself
over my left butt.  "Feel this", I heard Mike say.
"See, the little ridges under each red mark from
today's beating.  Now, probe with your fingers for the
others...."

I winced as what I assume was Rob's fingers dug into
my butt, prying and probing.

"Yes... I  can feel it..."

"Well, after a week or so he'd be as good as new.  So,
as I said, no permanent harm.  And if you feel his
shoulders, particularly over the ends of the shoulder
blades where there's less muscle, you can feel the
fainter marks where the tawse has been - that tends to
make the whole area inflamed, and a bit raised, but
doesn't leave such definite marks."

I could now feel Rob's hands sliding over my back - I
flinched as he did indeed feel my shoulders, but then
it was somehow very sensual as he slid both hands down
the side of my back, and allowed them to glide over my
butt one more.

"So do you want to fuck him, like last time, Rob?  Our
Steve has learned a thing or two about fucking since
you were last here...."

"You mean he's learned to take a dick....?"

"No, actually not.  But he's learned how to give it!
Steve's quite the 'top', and he's been up the ass of
most of the other servants on the place."

"No, that can't be right - I'd always wanted to have
sex with Steve, but  I was always put off as he was so
violently against guys doing it together.  He was
almost homophobic.... Steve can't have turned into
someone who likes fucking guys..."

"Well he has, Rob.  He's got quite a reputation.  So
would it be fun to top the top?  Shall we have him on
the horse again?"

I could reel Rob continuing to almost caress my butt
with his hands, as he said quietly, almost as if he
was ashamed of saying it, "No - but I would like to
add to these stripes!"

End Of Part 9