HARBOUR MASTER, Part 15
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Matt was still going on at Bill when we got back to the house, saying that he'd never seen such a disgraceful performance. Bill seemed to lose it then.
"You're fucking hypocrite, dad! You're always telling me that although you're a top, there's absolutely nothing wrong with being a bottom... You say you respect them, they're just as good as tops, just different.... Well, I think I'm a bottom. When Steve fucked me at lunch time..."
"What did you say?"
"I said that when Steve fucked me at lunchtime, it was the best..."
Matt's fury seemed to blaze. He rounded on me "Did you fuck Bill today?"
"Yes. We..."
I never got the chance to finish the sentence, as Matt garbed Bill and was shaking him like a terrier shakes a rat. "You've let Steve fuck you.... Did he force himself on you...."
"No, dad. It was all fair..."
"Fair? What's 'fair'?"
"We had a bet. I lost. And a man always pays his debts."
"You were gambling, too?"
"No, dad, just racing. We raced across the harbour, and the winner got to fuck the loser to make it more exciting. And I lost. But I didn't mind, I liked it...."
"You sill young cunt! Look, of course it's OK to be a bottom. But it's absolutely not OK to bet with slaves, then to let them fuck you because they 'won'. A real master would have bet with the slave, then, if he lost, would have taken the reward anyway to remind the slave of the proper relationship between them! Anyway, don't ever let it happen again. And don't ever let a slave 'use' you as a fucking stick like Steve did earlier. You're a master, you're in charge."
"But I think I'm a bottom - I liked being fucked...."
"You can be a bottom and still be in control! Order the slave to fuck you, don't lie there and let it happen. And if you want to have your dick sat on as Steve did earlier, you lie down, then you command him to squat on you. Understood?"
"Yes, dad. But it wasn't Steve's fault..."
"I'm not sure about that! He should have known better. Anyway, it confirms what I've been thinking - Steve needs to be reminded that he is a slave. I think I've been too lenient far too long, and I've treated him too much like a man, rather than a slave. Tomorrow morning will fix that."
"Now", he went on, "Let's get to bed - as you're determined to bottom, you'll enjoy your old dad fucking you again, won't you? Or shall I watch whilst Steve ploughs your ass... Would you like that - having me watch whilst you're being fucked by a slave?"
Bill was blushing red all over now. "No, dad... I want your dick, of course...."
I had to jerk myself off again so that Matt could lube Bill's hole and his own dick, then kneel and watch as the two men made love again. Matt was kind of ignoring me totally, and after they'd finished, I didn't know whether to get into bed or not. It was Bill who fixed it - I'm sure it was to please Matt that he adopted a very curt tone when he almost snapped at me "Get your ass in here, slave. I want to sleep with my dick somewhere warm and cosy tonight!"
We therefore slept spooned up usual, and all seemed to be normal as we bathed. But over breakfast Matt didn't give me any food. Finally, as they were finishing, I politely asked for at least a can of slave chow, but Matt just snapped "No. There's something going on today, and I don't want you spewing your breakfast all over the place."
He told Billy to look after the boats alone, as he'd only be an hour or so, then commanded me to follow him. We went past our usual spot, along to the boat building works at the far end. Some of Matt's boats were in there, being renovated, and one was almost finished - I could see it's shiny varnished hull with the "MJM" (for Matt James Marine) log on it.
Matt shook hands with the yard owner, then spoke to him and I couldn't hear what they were saying. Matt turned back to me: "Right, Slave, lie over the hull of that boat there - spread yourself out, face down."
I did as he told me, and lay there, wondering what on earth was going to happen. The yard owner came back with ropes, and he and Matt quickly lashed my ankles and wrists to various mooring points and holders on the boat's hull.
"Right, slave, do you see any differences between that boat you're lying on and you?"
"Well, boss, I'm a slave, and I'm worth a lot more..."
"Quit the wise cracks. Let me tell you the difference: you're both my property, but one has my logo on it, and you only carry my advertisement. It's time I re-emphasised to you that you're my property, so I've brought you down here to mark you further . And do you know why I'm doing it here, rather than at the tattoo parlour?"
"No, boss."
"It's because on my boats I have the logo burned in, so that thieves can't scratch it off, or paint over it. There's a neat little electric tool - a branding iron I guess they call it - that burns the MJM logo into the wood. Sears the wood, chars it, burrows deep into it with the burned area. And that's what's going to happen to your ass - I'm going to put my logo on you now, and you'll be reminded for ever that you're my property. You'll remember that Bill is my son, and that a master's property respects him, and his son. You'll remember because every time you touch your ass you'll feel the logo burned deep into your flesh. And you'll remember because that process is painful - no, agonising. You're going to remember how you screamed until your throat was raw as I pushed the branding iron onto your flesh, then held it there as it seared and charred you, then pushed it further in to really make sure of a completely indelible mark."
"There are no namby-pambies from the ASPCS around. Just you, the slave, me, the master, and the branding iron. The only thing we have in common is pain - the ability to experience it, and the ability to cause it."
I tried to move. Even though I knew what the penalty for escape was, it had to be worth risking. But the ropes held me.
"Struggle all you like. You can't get away - guys like us who work around boats all our lives know a thing or two about knots. But now...."
Bill got up and once agian he was straddling me, and sitting on my muscular back. He didn't take his jeans off, though - a group of workers had gathered around, and perhaps he was embarrassed.
"Can you move, Steve? I don't want that ass of your moving as the iron is held against you - I want a nice clean brand, with sharp edges, not something all blurred as you moved around under the heat!" He'd said this in such a way that he was taunting me, trying to make me feel worse.
"Fuck you, Matt!"
I screamed and tried to buck away - Matt had taken a wire rust-removing brush from one of the workers and brought it down hard on my right ass cheek. It stung lie hell as the hundreds of sharp wires punctured my skin, and the sheer unexpectedness of it had made me cry out.
"Good.. A bit of practice for the voice! And you can't move, can you? Your master's body is crushing you, holding you down immobile and waiting, waiting for him to mark you as his property...."
The boat yard owner came up, and he was holding what was clearly the branding iron - it trailed a long flex, and the business end - the circle containing the letters - was not just glowing red, but almost white hot.
"Here you are, Matt... Shall we find the slave something to bite down on, to stop him screaming... It might help him..."
"No! I want to hear him scream. I want him to acknowledge that I have the power to hurt him so much that he loses all control in front of this audience of men. Now...."
It was worse than anything I could have ever imagined.
And it wasn't just an agonising pain like that you get when you slam a finger in a car door, or when you burn yourself on a hot dish in the oven... No, those are over relatively quickly as you snatch your finger or hand or what ever way. The pain lingers, but the cause of it is removed almost immediately. But Matt held the white hot brand against me for ever - well, not literally, or course, I don't suppose it was for more than ten seconds. But that's an eternity when your entire body is telling you to pull away, to get away from the source of the agony - and you can't. I could smell my flesh, my body, charring and burning, as if I was at a hog roast or something, as the steam and smoke from the iron wafted back towards my nose on the breeze. I screamed, of course, a long, howling, animal yowl that emptied my lungs and was so powerful that my throat hurt afterwards. And then I sobbed - big, racking sobs, as I lay there, shattered.
The yard workers were all looking at me, and I could tell they were appalled at what Matt had done to me - or, rather, at the way in which he'd done it. I could see now why he hadn't fed me, as I would have thrown it up. I was glad that I'd had a massive crap that morning as there was no way that I could have controlled my bowels, either - and, indeed, I'd "let go" and a stream of piss was falling to the floor, running off the boat, where I hadn't been able to control my bladder.
Matt got off me, and came to my head. Tears were still coursing down my cheeks, and a big drool of snot as pouring out of my nose. "There, Steve. All done. Now you're really marked as my property, for life. They can laser out tattoos, but there's no way that big, deep scar is ever going to be removed. Whenever a man runs his hand over your left ass cheek - and there'll be a lot of those, as I do intend to go along with the doctor's suggestion and hire you out as a fuck boy for weekenders- he'll know you belong to me. And you'll know that he knows that, however good you are in bed, you're just a piece of property that he's hired from me."
"Untie him now", he snapped at some of the workers, and four of them came up and undid the ropes. "But be careful - the disgusting animal has pissed everywhere", he added.
The pain was still so sharp that I couldn't speak, couldn't even think about speaking. I wanted to call him all the worse names I could think of. I wanted to go and hit him. But I couldn't - I could hardly stand, the pain was so intense, and in particular my left leg could hardly support my weight as the muscles in my ass spasmd, trying to get some relief.
I knew what they say about burns - you should always make them as cold as possible. Mom used to run a burned finger under the cold tap until you couldn't stand it any longer, I remember.
In agony, I left the men standing there as I turned as best I could and hobbled out of the yard and across the quay, and threw myself into the water. The shock of the cold water on my sweat soaked frame was terrible, and a new wave of pain from my brand flooded through me. It was high tide, and the water was deep, and at first I couldn't swim and sank like a stone towards the bottom. I honestly thought about trying to end it all - just opening my mouth down there and letting the water in - it had to be better than this life, had to be better than this pain, this way of being treated, this life as a slave that Matt could treat just as if I was an animal.
But life is life, isn't it, however bad it is? I kind of scrabbled with my hands and my head broke the surface. I grabbed hold of a mooring ring, and just clung to it, most of my body in the cold sea. I don't know hoe long I was there - certainly long enough so that I was completely chilled and my teeth were chartering and the bits of my body out of the water were shivering. Slowly and painfully I hauled myself out, and stood there in the sunshine trying to get warm - but as the warmth returned feeling to me, so did the pain come back - and I had to throw myself into the water again. - although there did seem to be some life in my left leg now.
After I'd repeated this for some time, Matt came to the edge of the water and looked down at me as I clung to the mooring ring. If I'd not really known the meaning of the word "agony" before, I did now, as that was what I was experiencing. It must have shown on my face, but Matt simply ignored it and snapped "Get back to fucking work, slave! Do you think I'm going to feed you tonight if you don't do a day's work for me? Now - swim around to our pitch, and relieve Bill - the lad's probably had to swim out to get boats several times, and that's slave's work, in my book!"
The absolute bastard! He knew what he'd done. He must know how much I was hurting. And now he was threatening me with not being fed - he never really fed me enough, anyway, considering the hard physical labour I did, as he sometimes told me that he deliberately kept me slightly short of food so that I'd get he "lean and mean" look, and would anyway be grateful or a few drops of cum to supplement my diet. So without any food for a whole day, I'd be in desperate straights.
I wasn't going to give him the satisfaction of knowing that he'd hurt me terribly, so, slowly and painfully, I swum around to the quay where Bill was standing.
"Hey, Steve! How's it going? There was something interesting earlier on - terrible commotion over at the end of the quay: any idea what happened?"
He saw something was wrong as I reached up and slowly hauled myself out of the water - I'm so fit that I've perfected a little trick that amuses Bill - and the customers- where I just have one hand on the quayside and kind of "spring" out - a big kick of the legs, some leverage in the arm, it doesn't take much, really. But there was no way I could do that now, and I almost crawled over the edge of the quay, and lay there gasping.
"Oh fuck, Steve... What's happened to your ass... Oh Christ, no.... That's our logo, isn't it?
"Yes. Your dad's branded it into me, just like the boats are branded. And that's what all the commotion, as you call it, was: it was me, screaming and screaming, in the hope it would stop."
Bill was crouching by me now, his hand on my shoulder, in a gesture of support. "Steve.. .what can I do..."
"Get up, boy! Leave that worthless piece of shit alone, Bill! I though we'd agreed that you were supposed to treat a slave like a slave, order it around, tell it what to do... A free man doesn't ask a slave what he can do for it... Now, get the fuck away from that Slave, else I'll tan your ass right here and now - I said last night that you're not too old to be spanked, and if you don't do as I say, you'll learn that a father still has some rights."
"But dad, Steve's hurt..."
'Sure he is. You'd expect him to be hurt, when he's had a white-hot piece of metal held against him. But it's not permanent. He'll recover, except that his hide will now always bear our company logo. Every time he looks at his ass, or runs his hand down his ass cheek, he'll remember that we own him. And he'll think back to today and remember what it feels like to have his master really hurt him. Now, as I said, leave him alone. I want to work him for he rest of the day - it will take his mind off the agony, and, anyway, if he doesn't move that leg a lot, it might seize up."
Matt let me to work the hire boats all by myself for the rest of the day - Bill had disappeared, and Matt was busy with his special errands for the boat owners.
As usual, some of the customers didn't seem to like dealing with a naked slave, but I think I attracted at least as much business as went away - some people, walking along the quay with no intention of hiring a boat would deliberately come over and do so once they realised it was an opportunity to gawk at my magnificent body. I didn't buy what the doctor said about the ladies being frightened or embarrassed by my dick, either - if anything, the were the worst at looking at it.
When Matt finally collected me and took me back to the house the sun had sunk behind the hills and I was quite cold. The volume of business falls off very rapidly once the sun sinks, and I think Matt only kept me out there so long that day just to punish me a bit more - but in fact the additional time in the sea was continuing to do my brand good and the biting, stinging, all-consuming pain had now sunk to a dull, angry low throbbing - provided I was active at something else, I could even manage to shut it out for brief periods.
"It's just you and me again, Steve", Matt announced. "Bill's gone back on the bus to the city, to see his mother." Bastard - now that Bill wasn't here, did he think everything was going back to being "buddies", after what he'd done to me? But he did seem to be trying to return to normal - far from not feeding me, he gave me the scraps off his plate to clean up after I'd finished a big can of slave chow.
"I thought he was here for the whole vacation period."
"He was supposed to be. He normally always stays the entire Summer. But after our little argument earlier, he seemed very upset, and he's fled back to mommy. Still, if he's going to be a snivelling wimp perhaps I'm better off without him. No one wants a son that can't bear losing an argument with his dad!"
Well, I didn't think that it was all about losing an argument - I thought there were fundamental differences between them in the way they treated other people!
"Still, that just leaves you and me. And now you've lost your cherry, I don't have to save you for Bill. My dick's been itching to get up your ass, and it's taken a lot of strong character not to have given in and just taken you before. But now the way is open, so to speak.... Get up the stairs, and get into bed: you're going to see how a real top can take you now."
It was a bit of a cool night and I got under the covers, and Matt leapt in and joined me. As we felt the warmth of our bodies pressing close, it was just as it had been - or, rather, it was for Matt. The pain in my ass didn't let me forget what he'd done to me. We kissed, fondled, sucked nipples, then, pressing his face close to mine, Matt said in that low voice that somehow everyone seems to use in the bedroom "I'm going to jerk you off now, Steve, as I need the cum to lube my dick - it's ass time for you, boy!"
He went at it with vigour, at the same time using his mouth to alternately deep kiss me and torture my nipples. In spite of everything, I still found him unbelievably sexy, and loved the feel of his body against mine, and the way his hands played my dick as if it was a rare musical instrument that had to be teased to give it s best.
I| shot loads, in spite of everything, and Matt reached between my legs and made a pretence at massaging some into my hole.
"How does that feel, Steve? Do you like your master's finger probing your hole?"
"Matt, it's great... More, please. I like it, I really do - carry on finger fucking me, and use more fingers to really stretch me... I love the sensation, and it will make it easier for your dick..."
At once, Matt changed. He went from seductive, sexy lover to angry owner.
"How do you know about stretching? Bill didn't teach you as his dick was barely in there for a minute. The doctor certainly didn't - he's a cruel bastard, who likes to see slaves suffer in spite of his membership of the ASPCS. Sam fucked your throat.... So where did you learn about multiple fingers up your hole?"
Oh shit! If I told him about Grant and the wonderful lover he was, I'd be sunk. Matt would work back to the days he'd loaned me to Grant's boat, and know that his "present" to Bill of a virgin slave was in fact somewhat devalued. "Well... Well... ", I stammered, "I guess I read about it before I was enslaved..."
"Now you're fucking lying to me, to add to all your other misdemeanours in the recent past! You didn't learn, when I branded you, did you? You didn't learn that I own you, and that therefore you owe me total truth and obedience at all times. Well, we'll let it pass for now... After next weekend, and your date with the doctor's little machine, I think we'll have you properly tamed!"
"Matt, please... For God's sake.... No.... Not that."
"Shut the fuck up, Steve! My mind's made up. I was going to try to argue with the doctor, try to keep your dick on you, but I'm beginning to see that he's right - treat a slave with respect, treat him as if he's almost human, and what do you get: a slave who tries to assert his power, a slave who lies to his master, a slave who sticks his dick up his master's son, a slave who must have been having sex without his master's permission.... Well, I'm done with it! One thing you won't be doing after the weekend is having sex with your dick! I quite like the idea, now I think about it, of going for the really minimal look the doctor talked about with the little nub that's left hidden in your pubic hair - when you piss, you'll have to dry your hair afterwards."
"Please, Matt..."
"You call your master by his familiar name one more time, and I'll drive you to the city now..."
"Please, boss, please! Anything but that... I'd rather lose one of my balls than have my dick sliced off... Please... I used to be a man, just like you, then I was enslaved and you took away my freedom... But taking away my dick... Please, boss, it's not human..."
"Quit whining, fuck boy, and get on your knees. My dick's tired of waiting for that ass of yours... Do it.... NOW!"
Even though Matt had said he was going to have me sliced, and there seemed no hope, what else could I do? There was no running away, and my only chance was to obey meekly, in the hope that by the weekend he might change his mind. If I angered him any more, all my hope would be gone.
Wearily, I raised myself on to my knees and pressed my shoulders down into the bed.
"I think you'd be a top if I let you". Matt had a taunting tone in his voice. "You fucked Bill, you hated it when the doctor fucked you, and you tried to take over the other session with Bill, run it your way. Well, there'll be none of that tonight - I'm the one in charge here, and my dick's going up your ass. If you were tough and strong - and free - like me, you'd never have to take a man up your ass. But as a slave...."
As he'd been speaking Matt's dick had been rubbing up and down my ass crack, and I'd been quite excited at the feel of it as it moved between my cheeks, then stopped and nosed at my hole, then moved on. I think if he'd just started to fuck me then, in spite of everything, things might have gone very differently: I'd have taken it, and worked on him during the week, and I might or might not have been sliced.
But Matt was in a "power" mood, and went on "You're mine, slave, mine to do with as I want. I'm going to fuck your ass so hard you'll scream, not so much as this morning, perhaps, but you'll still make a lot of noise as I'm going to plough you just as we are, and your cum is already drying on my dick so there won't be much lube. At the weekend I'm going to have you sliced, and I will! You've seen how much power I have over your body - you know that I won't hesitate. A man who can hold a white hot branding iron into a slave's ass won't stop at a little thing like slicing his dick off - in fact, I think I'll ask the doctor if I can press the button myself!"
I think I could have borne this, too, but at that moment Matt slapped my ass, hard - very hard - with all the power that a big, strong man like him can exert. As his hand made contact with my scar that was already so painful, I completely lost it.
To his astonishment, I turned of him - I got up off my knees and turned to face him as he knelt there, and attacked him. Even though I was weakened by the pain, I had the advantage of surprise over him, and we were soon wrestling together, clawing at each other and trying to land punches where they would really hurt. I'm not a fighter, and neither was Matt, but we were both fit and extremely strong, and we both now locked into some of primeval battle - who was the alpha male?
We were grunting and swearing at each other, and it soon became hard to wrestle as our bodies were so coated with sweat that it was almost impossible to get a grip on each other. But, just as in my race with Bill, my younger body started to win out and I could feel Matt gradually weakening as the huge exertion we were both making continued. Finally I had him flat on his belly, with me kneeling in the small of his back to hold him there, and with one arm locked around his neck: he knew that one move from me and his neck would snap as I'd wrenched his head to one side.
"Now, Matt, who's in charge, who's in control?"
"I am, slave! Just because you've got me like this doesn't mean you've won. If you kill me, they'll trace you and kill you. So sooner or later you've got to let me go - and then I'll call the police, and you'll be carted off to be sold..."
"In that case, I may as well really demonstrate that I'm bigger, stronger and better than you - one last fling, shall we say. You wanted a virgin ass for Bill, and you were proud that he was going to take my cherry. Well, you keep bragging about how you've never taken it up the ass, so what's sauce for the goose is sauce for the gander... You know, Matt, since I've been enslaved I've been made to do a lot of things I never thought I'd ever have to do - go naked, suck dick, be a walking advert, even have my body mutilated to suit you when you had me tattooed and circumcised. But I found I like some of it - and I never could have imagined that, not even in my wildest dreams. I never thought I'd like to suck dick, or to kiss another guy, or just to enjoy his body as we lay close together. And I certainly never thought I'd enjoy fucking ass - I was straight, until you won me, the father of kids! But I do enjoy it - not just the sensation, which is a thousand times better than fucking cunt, as you know, too, unless that wife of yours got some big stud slave to do what you didn't...."
Matt struggled underneath me, so I knew I'd hit a nerve. "But then, Bill does look a lot like you. But he likes being fucked, too, doesn't he - that doesn't seem to have been inherited from his dad... Are you sure you ever got your dick up your wife, or was it just a marriage of convenience so you could play with the lads...?"
He managed to struggle enough so that he could get out "Fuck you, Steve. No, I'm a man, just like you. Bill is my son. But I soon found out what you now know - sex with men is better..."
"I was going on to say, Matt, before you interrupted..." I gave his neck another wrench, and his body jerked with pain. "I was going to say that not only does it feel better physically, but fucking a man gives you something else - power over him, domination, control... When your ass is spiked on my dick, as it's going to be in a moment, we'll both know who's the real man here, who's really boss in spite of the arbitrary labels the world places on us - master and slave. You know, I guess that's why so many gay men fuck guys who are totally different - lawyers and labourers, businessmen and construction workers, accountants and security guards... Each of them is working out what really makes the man, not who's earning the most, or who sits behind a big desk..."
Well, that was enough of that. I had a bit of a problem, but with my arm locked around Matt's throat I managed to drag him over to the side of the room where he'd discarded his jeans before coming to fuck me - as he thought - and pulled the black leather belt out from the loops. I threw him down on the floor, then hurled myself on top of him, knocking the breath out of him, and as he was recovering I used his relative helplessness to bind his arms together in the middle of his back.
Hauling him back on to the bed, I could now press his shoulders down without resistance, and then, as they, say, I fucked him!
It was magic. His hole was tight and unyielding, but my dick was harder than it had ever been before. Matt kept up a constant barrage of expletives, curses, and threats, that didn't diminish when, using the trick I'd learned to my cost at the doctors, I beat his ass with one of his sneakers to "tenderise him". In the end, I stuffed his socks into his mouth to stop the noise, then pushed hard - harder than I've ever had to since - to pop my dick through into him.
I didn't spare him at all. There was no pretence at starting slowly and gently and working up to my climax - I was in control, and I wanted to teach the bastard several lessons. So I brutally fucked at him, driving home every time into his tenderised rump with all the force I could manage. Sweat was flying off me, and I was expecting to cum every moment - but I didn't: I was so wrapped up with the power I was exerting, so revelling in having this man completely subservient to me, that something in my brain told my balls that they had to hold out.
Of course I did shoot eventually - but it was the longest and hardest fuck I've ever had. Matt was only groaning feebly through his gag by the end, and as I let his body collapse flat onto the bed so that I could enjoy lying on him and having him totally under me, I pulled the socks out.
"At least you'll stop bragging that you never take it up the ass", I whispered to him, my breath panting as I tried to recover. "Even if you never have another dick up there, you'll remember today when a real man topped you, in every sense of the word. Come on, admit it - I'm a real master, aren't I?"
Amazingly, given the difficult position he was in, as he knew I could easily resort to choking him and even snapping his neck, Matt hissed "No, slave. I'm in charge. I own you. I own you totally. And once you've been sliced, I'm going to have you castrated. And then I'm going to rent you out to all comers - even as little as a dollar a fuck, if that's all they'll pay. You're not going to be a master, or in control, or a top. You'll be a dick-less eunuch, who takes endless dick up his ass every day. You won't be able to top anyone: no balls to make cum, and no dick to inject it with."
"Now", he went on, "Untie me. Don't make things worse for yourself."
Jesus Christ, I thought. Make things worse? How could things get worse?
End Of Part 15