Copyright 2009 by the author.
The story contains some nasty bondage in a fantasy setting, as well as explicit man-to-man sex.
Thank you to those who responded to part 1. Comments much appreciated. thobyandover@y7mail.com
HARNESSED BUCKS
Being a continuation of the account of the harnessing of six prime younkers by the Corsair Army, and the way in which they were used.
PART THE SECOND
The diligent reader will have learned how, at the closure of the first day of our captivity, we were placed together in a tiny prison-slot, each man locked into an individual neck-to-nuts harness described in the previous chapter.
As I have stated in that chapter, we remained there for a very long time, and as it was pitch dark and cold, we had no clue as to the setting or the rising of the sun, nor any inkling as to when we might be released from our strict confines or whether, indeed, we had been placed there and forgotten, for there was heavy silence apart from our voices and all about was stone and iron. I slept several times and each time was awoken by the writhing and agitation of my fellows, and once by Luk's pulsing cockshaft which had entered my rearward passage again.
We stood thus, in our own piss and shit until the soldiers came to see us released. Our legs were indeed sore and our countenances dejected and our bodies filthy with stinking slime. Water was given us, along with a small loaf of sour black bread, each of which we fell upon eagerly and devoured. Then we were taken back upstairs to the compound where morning sun stung our eyes, and buckets of water were used to sluice us of our bodily filth. Although we were pleased to be released from our horrid prison, my belly was nonetheless filled with an uneasy feeling as to the prospect of what our captors may have in store for us. We made to obey their orders instantly they were given, and had not forgotten to shout "YES SIR," at every juncture, and we stood again on the coloured tiles, our heavy harnesses holding us erect and our schlongs and ballsacks dangling shamefully from the cockbuckles.
As we stood, bade to silence, the Corsair soldiers found cause to surround us and to joke and laugh, and some of my fellows, Willard and Riace, did suffer the indignity of exhibiting their penises erect. I could tell this from the nature of the soldiers' joking (for I was reluctant to look sideways at my fellows lest the soldiers become displeased). When this happened, my thoughts went to my own exposed schlong, and it did begin to twitch and grow, and then the mirth was directed at myself also. My cock stayed extremely hard against the leather strap running up my belly and would not go down, no matter how I wanted it to, and since I was the youngest and, as I have said, the most lithe of appearance among my fellows, I did attract the most attention of the soldiers, and much leering and slobbering was directed at me. Some soldiers were behind, and I did hear them postulating that my rump was the smallest and hardest of my fellows, and that it would be a fine thing for such a rump to be plowed by them, and it was obvious that I was meant to overhear this discussion and be discomforted, which I was. And because of my upstanding cock, other soldiers did surmise that I could not wait for such an event to occur. Since we were not allowed to say anything at all, we stood in the sun and endured these remarks, and about ten or twenty very young apprentices were brought to look at us. At first these apprentices did stare most intently and then, in short order, they sniggered and found mirth amongst themselves. Also too, were female prostitutes employed by the Corsair Army brought, and young men dressed in feminine attire with their faces painted, and quite a many people who found us an object of curiosity.
"Nice cock!" said one soldier to my face.
"This one's the prettiest, that one's the ugliest," said a painted hag.
"This one has the biggest schlong, that one the smallest," said a boy, laughing with his fellows.
"Congratulations on having the most pleasant and attractive of thighs and the hardest of asses," said a young man in feminine attire, and he came to me and gave my buttocks a friendly pat. "Like sculpted marble," he said to his companions.
A particularly bothersome and infuriating young boy began running to each of us in turn and said to each man with some measure of glee; "you're naked!" and he repeated this gesture over and over again as if the fact he stated did surprise him repeatedly, and he did this so many times, increasing my humiliation and anger so that I did adjudge him to be a juvenile delinquent, and did want to kick him.
It is my duty to inform you that for every indignity inflicted upon the derelict cadet who is taken by the Corsair Army, there will be more suffering and outrageous indignities to follow, and this fact will be amply illustrated to you when I describe the next thing that was done to us, for Bron was taken into a nearby shed and the other five of us were filled with horror and dread when we heard his piteous yells from within. Bron did protest loudly about whatever was being done to him, his voice at such a volume that the shed appeared to shake. Our alarm was increased, of course, by our not knowing, or having any idea, about whatever terrible thing was occurring to him. It took a long time and Bron's wails of dismay did continue, and it slowly became obvious to me that he was being fucked violently by a series of large cocks or rigid tools, for the soldiers and boys and prostitutes and mixture of people who surrounded us made many remarks hinting at the nature of the punishment being dispensed within the shed.
"Your fellow is plowed with the largest of prongs of the Corsair Army," seemed to be the nature of the content of these remarks, or words to that effect. And when Bron emerged from the shed, his countenance seemed puzzling and ominous. His wrists were again manacled behind his head to his collar, raising his arms and showing his armpits just as the day previous. The other thing raised was his prong, also pointing upward and as unbending as a pole. Bron did prance and jump as the soldiers goaded him along, and the expression on his face was one of severe disturbance and concern, and presently we did see the cause of his prancing and his posture and his distressed expression.
A new device had been added to Bron's harness, and this was another leather belt extending from the rear of his collar down his back, and ending just above his butt-crack. Here, the belt was joined with an iron bit which went between his bum-cheeks, and while it is true that I could not discern exactly where this iron bit did end or how it did perform its purpose, it did not take much thought on my part to guess that Bron's hole was violated with an instrument designed for that purpose. Such was the nature of his countenance and the manner of his vocal expressions.
Subsequently, the offensive tool buried in Bron's rearward hole and his up-extended elbows held by his hands manacled behind his head did make it appear that he had begun to cast a fishing rod, and when he leant back to make the cast, the hook had become stuck in his ass, and now he could not extricate himself from his regrettable situation. At this juncture, it became difficult to believe that the Corsairs had invented such an ingenious accessory to supplement the cruelty of the man-leash previously described and which by now we were more familiar than we were pleased to be. For now, we saw that not only a man's wrists, neck, and balls could be so viciously held, but also his anus penetrated, and still his feet were free in order that he may tire himself following orders.
Bron pranced over to his coloured tile to take his position, as before, beside us, and the rest of us were filled with surprise at his condition, but more so, we were filled with dismay, for of course we knew that the same thing would be done to all of us, as indeed it was. Each of us was taken in turn into the shed and each of us did emit a series of howls and wails similar to which Bron had emitted, and when it was my turn, I became acquainted with the distasteful details of what was awaiting me inside that shed, and thus I was furnished with the elements of which it is my duty to report as the following narrative.
There was a heavy wooden table with iron manacles fixed to its extremities, and in these manacles I was placed so that my legs were wide apart and secured at the ankles to the base of two table-legs. I was bent forward over the table so that I felt its rough surface on my belly and chest and cheek, and my arms were outstretched and manacled at the two opposite corners of the table. While this was being done, the Corsairs made many lurid remarks and before even the manacles were fixed, I felt numerous hands exploring at my bare posterior, for it presented itself expediently to them due to my degrading position, that is, bent over face-down and manacled spread-eagled to the heavy wooden table. I squirmed and rattled the manacles and strained to adjust my position so as to accommodate the leather leash at my front, as the soldiers laughed and said; "Grease the hole, spunk-boy! You know what you're getting, and you know where you're getting it!"
I flattened my belly against the table and struggled, but I had little latitude for movement and my arse and hole were essentially immobilized at the table's edge. It is my sorry duty to report that many Corsair cocks entered me, and I could not see the face or ascertain the identity of whichever soldier had his pole inside me at any particular time, but each cock felt larger than the last, and they pumped me so that I had to grind my body in return, in order to avoid being pummeled violently against the edge of the table, and the soldiers did enjoy my grinding and writhing for they said so, and they also enjoyed very much my cries, for I trilled in falsetto like I choirboy as they fucked. The fucking caused the heavy table to bump along the floor, and presently it had to be slid, with the naked, sweating buck chained to it, back to its correct position, and then they fucked some more. My proper voice deserted me completely and was replaced entirely by the piteous yelps of a pup, and they ordered me to say "THANK YOU SIR! THANK YOU SIR!" as I was fucked and my falsetto, choirboy speech did cause mirth amongst them and did reinforce their opinion that I was the prettiest amongst my fellows and therefore the most deserving of a fucking by Corsair soldiers.
It is my duty to report that even though I knew my high-pitched squeaks could be heard across the compound and that I had been placed in the most disgraceful and shameful of positions, I did at that time not care. For it is also my duty to report that the cadet who is taken by Corsairs will do his utmost to please his captors and will quickly lose his modesty and dignity. My own cock was hard and wedged at the side of the table, but my embarrassment at such a thing had by now been discarded.
Presently the thing that was to enter my hole permanently was shown in front of my face, and at that time I could not help but produce an anguished groan of misery at the sight of it. The iron bit that was to run through my crack had a protruding tool welded to it, which was thick and rough and covered with hot axle-fat, and at the end of it was a course-forged ball the size of a man's fist, and when it was inserted into my anus, it took some measure of exertion on the part of the soldiers to get it there, and my exclamations were obscene and not at all suitable for polite company, as well as being pitched at the falsetto for which I was now known amongst the Corsair soldiers.
I twisted and turned in my manacles, and the person whose task it was to introduce the iron tool into my anus performed much twisting and turning also, and pushing, and my cries of "OOOOO!" and "AAAAA!" did continue and become fairly constant. It was placed fully inside me, and as can be surmised, it was held in place, plugging me solid, by the iron bit attached to a leather strap running down my back in the same fashion as my fellows which I had observed previously. The bit was attached at the other end between my legs to my cockshackle.
My arms were bent back over my head so that my wrists could be manacled again behind my head, and again, I presented my armpits to whomsoever I faced, and the belt running down my back was tautened until I arched and my arms folded back as far as they could possibly go. I pranced and danced and produced numerous exclamation of; "OH! OH! OH!"
"Dance and sing like a faggot, Spunk Boy!" said the soldiers loudly. My instinct was to jump up, raising my knees highly, in an attempt to escape the tool filling me from behind, but of course this achieved nothing except to wedge it into my hole more forcefully. The pressure inside my hole caused my cock to be swollen solid and upstanding, and then a regrettable thing happened. Without warning I came, and powerful spurts of my jism did shoot upwards as high as my head, splashing upon my face and also arcing up to a yard away. I did moan most piteously, and the soldiers were moved to even more glee.
"LICK IT UP, SPUNK BOY! LICK UP EVERY LAST DROP!" They ordered. And so I did somehow get down on my knees with the iron tool in my arse and my arms back over my head and did follow their orders explicitly. And in doing so I did slurp and suck upon the dirty floor and swallow my jellied spunk. The soldiers directed me by grasping my hair and dragging me to every place on the floor which required my tongue, and I did lick most assiduously and attentively in order not to receive punishment. And when the soldiers were satisfied that I had swallowed my entire load, they did drag me to my feet again.
I was ordered outside to rejoin my companions, and I did race to obey, even though I felt fully a terrible shame in being presented before many people in such a state. The thoughtful cadet should consider most carefully the shameful sight of us at that moment. Six naked youths, each fully and conspicuously erect, each wiggling and jigging in place with his back arched, elbows aloft, and each with a rude utensil in his rearward hole. I did involuntarily swivel and turn like a harlot dancer, such was my discomfort, and our boots did thump on the specially coloured tiles and our hoots and grunts did elicit a certain amount of gaiety amongst our varied audience.
Some more leather pieces did appear, and these pieces were already familiar to us, and therefore did cause us much dismay, for these were the short lengths which had attached us one behind the other, neck-to-neck, the previous day. These were fixed upon us and once again were configured in file, forced to follow and unable to divert from wherever the naked line-up may be led. We were hauled from the compound into the town. Again, I jumped to follow the leash as to minimize its wrenching and discomfort. The tool in my arse did cause me to dance and jig, and the leash drew me forward into a raucous throng. Here, many hands were on me and these hands did exhibit the rudeness and lack of modesty we had come to expect at the hands of the Corsairs.
In a central square of the town there was an ominous sight for us to behold. Raised on a wooden platform were six sets of wooden pillories, arranged in a row, and as the attentive reader will know, it is among the habits of the Corsairs to never restrain their captives in an ordinary way, but to always confine them in such a way as to produce the maximum humiliation and discomfort, and so it was with much disappointment, but not surprise, that we saw the evil design of these wretched pillories.
A punishment in our own legions will be performed with a pillory of the traditional construction, with three openings in a yoke, one for a man's neck and the others for his hands. The Corsairs had invented a much smaller yoke with only one hole about the size of a penny bit, and the yokes were fixed at waist height, and so we knew when we laid eyes upon the vile devices that they were intended to hold a man by his appendages.
On the platform, I had to mount small cutouts in a pair of wooden poles supporting the yoke, where only my toes would fit, so that my legs were wide apart and my heels suspended six inches above the stage. The top of the short poles were fitted between with the wooden cock-yoke, and in order for my schlong and balls to reach the hole, I found that I must keep my toes in the cutouts, pushing upwards. The sizeable crowd became very interested and I cannot remember without a considerable amount of shame how this crowd watched as my balls were roughly handled and loaded onto the contraption. The hinged upper piece of the apparatus folded down upon me and locked with a large padlock, and I was held, my nutsac encircled both by the leash-shackle and now, the man-pillory. My legs, very wide apart, strained to keep my body as raised up and as straight as I could manage, for the cock-yoke was heavy and tight, and any movement on my part made great distress. Only by remaining on tippy toes could I ease the strain at the base of my scrotum and, with my arms uplifted, I presented my schlong to the crowd, dangling as it did through the wooden parody of a glory-hole. We writhed and grunted and sweated, unable to relax our legs or our arms, and at that moment I did marvel at the ingenuity of the Corsair Army in its ability to devise such a punishment for its captives.
A bucket of fresh shit was upended over my head, and the soldiers did vacate the wooden platform, holding their noses in mock disgust at the stink. Jeers were directed at us, as were some articles of rotten fruit. I writhed and grunted and sweated some more, and my balls were indeed sore in their heavy wooden vice, and the iron tool in my arse did work its way further in, and my body, streaming with shit and buzzing with flies, did itch tremendously all over. Each of us contrived to find the least discomforting position in which to remain, and presently each of us found that only by arching backwards as far as possible and staying that way, could we maintain a tolerable condition and reduce the strain on our arms, and only by holding ourselves as high as we could on our toes, would the wooden yokes afford the least amount of suffering. Still, we twisted and moved. Our appearance would have been at once both absurd and sobering; the six hefty younkers mounted in a row, pilloried by their bollocks.
And so we remained the way I have described throughout the day, drawing a great deal of interest from the crowd. I found it convenient to affix my stare straight ahead and focus on a distant mountain peak in order keep my mind away from the terrible ache in my legs and the taunts of various members of the assembled spectators. Every second seemed a minute and every minute seemed an hour, and I did hear some among my fellows beside me blubbing and wailing in their misery, and I did call out to them to stop crying like babies and to face their predicament as men would, in a manner worthy of our division. Nevertheless, I do surely regret to report that I and my fellows did spend this day in Hell, and many among the men and women who saw us did express sympathy through their words and their countenances.
The sun did shine on us and did dry the shit on our bodies, but our sweat renewed again the stink of the dung. At length, some members of the crowd did come onto the platform for various purposes. First, a woman did bring a saucepan of water and did allow us to drink, holding the saucepan to our lips one by one, and I was indeed thankful and did gulp as much water as I could, and at this point, I did feel as if I had been pilloried and restrained in the sun for many an hour, and grown extremely thirsty, even though the position of the sun did inform me that I had not passed one hour yoked.
The letter P' was painted large on each younker's breast, anointing us and informing those about us that we were punks' and were to be used accordingly, and a leering man did apply himself to the task of pinching my nipples cruelly, but he did so without any success in causing me to cry out or utter a sound, for I did resolve to remain silent. Hours passed, and I cannot accurately report how it was that we managed to tolerate our circumstances. The sun did beat down upon our heads and did make us parched and dry and I did lick greedily for any drop of sweat which may have fallen upon my tongue until we were again given a meager amount of water.
More people came onto the platform to inspect us more carefully, for the stink of the shit on us had receded somewhat due to the sun's rays, and we did constantly fear each moment that another unholy and unimagined torment or humiliation would be visited upon us. Hard pinch-clamps were put on my nipples, and these were twisted by anyone wishing to do so, and again I refused to cry out. The leather belt running from my collar down my back to the bit in my crack was pulled and yanked repeatedly and viciously, causing me to twist and rotate in the yoke and to be constantly reminded of the tool in my rearward passage, and my distended asshole did sincerely believe that it would forever remain filled with that fist-sized steel ball. My penis and balls were handled rudely by young and old and did become swollen and sore fastened in the yoke. Because I had failed to make a noise or protest previously, a hag approached me with a switch of green, flexible willow and applied it most regretfully to my poor, restrained cock, and this most grievous event was repeated, and finally I did howl in anguish and outrage, my meat unable to be withdrawn from the stinging lash, and at this moment I did surmise I had been cursed by the Devil and that the laughing hag was his wife. Similar things were done to my fellows and I heard Luc shouting to us loudly to show courage and to not give pleasure to our torturers by wailing, sobbing, or weeping for their satisfaction. Then Triss did begin to curse Luc and in turn was told to desist his cowardly shouting by Riace. And then I did join the conversation, exclaiming to the hag with the switch that she should apply the green stripling to the meat of Triss rather than my own, and a square wooden block was shoved between my teeth and wrapped there with cord around my ears and head and I exclaimed no more, and the hag again whipped my hanging meat.
As the sun was approximately overhead, soldiers returned with keys, and during the following events I did attempt to make my thoughts blank so as to make myself stoic and to take courage. The rearward leather was removed and the iron instruments removed from our asses, and as this was done, my bowel did feel as if it were performing the most strenuous task of its career and I did worry to the utmost that it would be permanently damaged and that I would never be able to shit again. After my ass was empty, there did seem to be a cavernous hole in my rear. Buckets of water were thrown over us to make the soldiers' work less disgusting. Our wrists remained manacled behind our necks and the wooden block did remain in my mouth, and immediately, the fucking began.
With my jaw propped open by the block rendering me silent, I could do naught but brace myself hard into the wooden yoke before me. Men argued as to who would enter me next and as to who would have their turn before whom, and as one man finished, he dismounted a small stool placed behind me, and another mounted the stool and began, and when one group of men had fully satisfied themselves after much time, another group formed themselves into a sort of queue, and as I was the youngest and most like a boy, the longest queues and the most vehement arguments took place behind me. With each fucking, a new man grunted into my ear and relieved his passion into my hole, and each new man did put his hands about my body. Some twisted the nip-clamps as they fucked, and some took hold of my hair, bending me backwards and this way and that, accommodating their cocks in my rearward orifice. Meanwhile, I bucked and shuddered against the brace of the yoke, stretching and straining my balls.
All afternoon the fucking continued. And as I was fucked, I did see in the crowd before me the face of a handsome lad, about my own age, and while it may seem inexplicable that I might concentrate my eyes on one face among many while my arse-fucking continued, I was thankful that the lad did also look up at me unwaveringly with brown eyes which conveyed much concern and pity. From this, the reader will discern that I did find the face of this lad most comely, which is so, but I did also suffer much pain and embarrassment on being presented in such a state not only to the crowd as a whole, but to this lad in particular, and I found in his eyes the source of much confusion in my mind. I did contemplate most earnestly what he should think upon sighting me; a naked buck, legs spread and mounted on a public man-yoke, mouth stoppered and arms folded back and fixed to my harness. We did fix upon each other's gaze, he with his brown eyes staring up, and myself with my jammed mouth and secured cock, and our mutual stare did seem to contain some measure of meaning between us which, in my disgraceful state, I did contemplate some measure of shame. Nevertheless, my eyes did remain locked with his, and he did not move away as others in the crowd did, and he stayed put on the spot where he did stand and was not distracted from me.
Late in the afternoon, a man with keys came, and soldiers, and as our yokes were released and our sorely punished organs unheld, we did fall to the wooden platform. My legs were as water, having held me upright from my toes in the cutouts all day long. My nipple-clamps did hurt most grievously when they were removed, and when the block of wood in my mouth was extracted I did groan, despite my tongue being depressed flat and my jaw being achingly distended. We could hardly walk or voice our complaints, but the soldiers drew us to our feet by our harnesses without mind of our tired state, and we were again fixed to each other in our close-tethered line, and though it did seem impossible that we were capable of standing, never mind running in timed formation, that is what we were forced to do.
We tried to drag backwards on our leash, hoping the Corsair soldiers would permit us a slow shuffle, but the horse to which were attached was drawn along at a trot, and the ring-bolts did snatch at our cocks and cause us to boogie at pace, and as I was hauled back toward the compound in cadence with my fellows. I did see again the attractive lad to whom I have previously referred and we did again catch each other's eyes, and I could not help but wonder at what strange emotion did pass between us.
When our arms were released from our collars in the compound, we did groan again in relief, for we had held our elbows high all the day, our wrists fastened behind our necks, and in this unnatural state our sorry arms did ache with much fatigue. The Corsair soldiers did intend us no relaxation, however, and we six bucks were ordered to work.
Shod in our boots and clasped in our man-harnesses, we did scrape and scrub at the compounds flagstones with one worn brush between us and one unseaworthy bucket. The misery of the day spent with my balls yoked in a public place and my ass-hole plugged with a horrid tool and my legs spread wide in the toe-hold cutouts of the pillory had not left me, and I did try to not think about the shame I had endured. I scrubbed at the flagstones on all fours with a handful of straw, knowing that I must clean them thoroughly, and my bare ass did wave in the air and my balls and schlong did dangle between my legs like those of a pony, and my buckled nuts and neck and their connecting leather strap did make me arch persistently.
We worked until the sun went down and long after, for the stone compound was large enough and the requirements of the Corsairs stringent enough that six prisoners on hands and knees must work assiduously without rest. When the compound had been cleaned and the six fatigued younkers assembled in a row on the coloured squares, we were given our daily ration. A bowl of water and a loaf of green-moulded black bread was fed us, and I did hungrily dispose of this feast and I ate with much abandon, weevils and all, and then we were put to work again.
Latrine blocks had to be made clean, and I did wash a row of filthy commodes with my spit and my bare hands, and by that time it was very late at night. After this was done I did attend the latrine floors on my hands and knees, scraping dirt from between the tiles with a piece of broken pottery, and as I did this I did close my eyes and fall asleep, but somehow I did continue to work, sleeping and toiling, as some men and women are said to walk about during their nocturnal hours unconscious of their activities.
At some hour, when the moon was near the end of its nightly path and the morning cocks were beginning to crow, it became apparent that our day was done, and I did consider and expect that myself and my fellows would be placed in our shithole dungeon-cell, and I did look forward to this as a time of idyllic slumber. But this did not occur and, instead, in the chilled darkness of the morning air, we were assembled again in the compound and given bowls of cold gruel, and another day of work began.
Thoby Andover thobyandover@y7mail.com