Archive;'Odessa Ranch 5'{Ian Jacobs}( MM, sm, ws, scat, bd )[ 5 of ? ]
Odessa Ranch
Part 5, A New Focus
Naturally a place with over a hundred men cannot do without certain basic functions that would normally require the men to leave the compound; e.g. medical and dental services. Obviously trips to doctors and hospitals and dentist offices would cause a stir, especially in a small place like that part of Texas. So, the man-himself brings the services in. There are two doctors and two dentists on call to handle checkups and emergencies. The payment is as obvious as the set up, the professionals get to do just about anything they want to just about anyone they want, hands included.
Nick's Adonis
Only a couple of days after Nick was promoted to the stables, his Adonis, Josef (shortened first to 'Sef, then to Seth because people thought at first he had a lisp), went straight to the fields.
Since I wrote a bit about Nick's past and motives, Seth's are in order. Since Odessa Ranch is like the French Foreign Legion (almost everyone within its fences left something dangerous behind them), Seth's past is similar to Nick's. The difference between them is magnitude. Where Nick only believed his life was in danger when he left his abusive lover in Atlanta, Seth knew his life would be ended in a relatively public and very painful way if he were caught. Seth was literally the communications director of a neo-Nazi group in Leipzig. He didn't exactly want the job, but because he knew how to set up a website and handle email, he got it by default. He joined for two reasons, one political, the other sexual. He had trouble getting a job that went to one of the gastarbiters from Turkey. That alone would only have made him angry; falling deeply for one of the members was the impetus that pushed him into the organization. This wasn't a gay skinhead group, it was the real and violent thing. He was 19 when he joined; Bruno was 20. This brotherhood was divided into two groups: the mind and the muscle. Bruno was part of the muscle, Seth part of the mind. This wasn't what Seth wanted because he rarely got to see Bruno. Nothing ever happened between them, and if it did they would both be in serious shit if it were discovered.
While handling the communications between his group and other neo-Nazi groups in the area, Seth had ample time to surf the web. He found Buck and was intrigued by what he read. He wanted to be Bruno's boot boy. He didn't even know if Bruno was gay or would be open to that sort of servitude; it really didn't matter. He had been talking with Buck for about a month when his world began to get volatile. For one thing, he was not doing a good job of hiding the porn he downloaded, so suspicions rapidly began about him being queer. Then someone started a rumor that he was also a half Jew. Whether or not any of it was true, Seth knew that if the leadership wanted to make an example, they would kill him at a rally in the woods. If the material he read and disseminated were even half accurate, he would literally be beaten to death. He was a bit nervous until someone sympathetic in the headquarters warned him that the rumors were not only being taken seriously but believed. Seth nearly pissed himself while he tried to stay calm chatting with Buck. If Buck had delayed or denied, Seth didn't know where he could possibly be safe.
He was every bit the stereotypical German youth. Blond, blue, built naturally like a swimmer and would only change that shape if he sat on his ass all day. He stood six four and weighed 175. He was an underwear designer's ideal model and the fascination of more on the ranch than just Nick.
Seth's jaws ached horribly daily because he was easily the favorite in the toilet. Each honey boy was only concerned with the world directly in front of him. None of them, including Seth, were aware that he was getting well more than his share of treatment by the hands. In his seven weeks, he was toilet paper, urinal, and cum catcher for all of the hands. It is possible that someone prior to Seth had held that unlikely honor, but, as with the rules, none of that was ever recorded.
Seth was put on corn. The ranch grew corn, wheat, soybeans, and hay. Each slave was given a specific square of land, marked by string, to handle. Sowing, weeding, watering, fertilizing, preening, and harvesting were handled by each slave for his specific square; he stayed until finished and received no aid. The slaves in the field talked as Nick did in the stable, but they had to be quieter about it because speaking was a punishable offense if one of the trustees decided he wanted to use his whip.
Each crop had 2 trustees who were charged with making sure all got done on time. They reported directly to Buck, but were still potential objects of abuse for the hands-they were still field slaves after all, regardless of whom they reported to. So on their shoulders and backs rested the entire efficiency of their crop, and Buck was a much harsher master to them than they could ever be to their slaves: they had a flogger, Buck had anything he wanted.
Seth followed the slave in the square next to him. Obviously everything was learned by doing. No classes, nothing formal, just do it right or get whipped, easiest and most cost effective form of training available. The kid's name was Ty. He looked all of 18. He spoke with a very heavy Texas accent that was difficult for Seth to understand at first, just as Seth's accent (though not heavy) was for Ty.
"You geet down lack thius, and y' pull the fucker out by the rut." [This is just an example of Ty's dialect, I will spare the reader from further examples.]
Seth watched as the naked youth, almost a foot shorter than he, nimbly knelt and pulled the weeds from between the corn stalks. He dug his disproportionately large hands into the soil (maintained literally on the backs of these slaves since this ground would never yield any of these crops on their own) and remove the root. Ty's back was freshly scarred from a recent whipping. His ass too was raw, but from something other than a whip, Seth would ask about it if he had the chance. Ty's cock was something Seth really didn't expect. It was longer than his own and fat too. The cocks he had become very close to in the honey room were all pretty much average, only a couple going beyond in any meaningful sense. Ty was hung; uncut and dripping almost constantly.
"Don't just stand there you kraut fuck." One of the trustees landed a sharp lash against Seth's thighs. He yelped. Another followed, and another as he knelt and found a weed to remove. He dug while the trustee watched. Unfamiliar with soil and the arcanna of weeds, he pulled it out too soon and didn't get all the root.
"Forehead on the ground, ass in the air faggot."
"Sir yes sir." He did exactly as ordered, but he didn't remain kneeling, he straightened his legs so his ass was quite high. The trustee kicked his knees so he was in the proper position.
"Never show me your ass like that again you pile of shit." Seth had pretty much forgotten the serious lashing he received from Buck on day one, and the hands had only used riding crops on him in the honey room. This flogger was something else entirely. Many thin but rough leather straps all hitting at the same time in a scatter effect. It was an unfocused pain Seth had no ability yet to handle. He instinctively scooted away from the whip.
The trustee quickly grabbed Seth by his collar and dragged him violently out of his square of corn and to the scrub bordering the corn field. In places along the border of the field were little concrete rectangles (about three feet long, maybe a foot wide) with three imbedded steel loops. The hand quickly attached Seth's collar and each wrist restraint to the steel loops. Without a word he just began to flail away at the stretched ass. Seth tried mightily not to let his throat do what it desperately wanted, but after a dozen harshly laid lashes he could no longer and he started to scream as each lash fell. The trustee focused entirely on Seth's ass. Later Seth would believe he could have handled it if the lashes were dispersed, but all his attentions at that moment were on the tortured skin of his reddening ass.
After twenty-five lashes, the trustee unhooked Seth and said, "Next time will be a hundred turd. Get back and get to work."
"Sir yes sir." He tried to sound composed and limped quickly back to his little square.
He started ferreting around for weeds immediately after returning. Ty interrupted him. "Let me see your ass."
"How bad is it?"
"I seen worse, but you ain't gonna want to sit on it for a little while. I'll get infected." There was little sympathy or empathy in Ty's tone, he said it all matter of fact. Seth didn't know if those emotions were too costly for the slaves, or if this was just Ty's way. Seth felt sympathy for the simple boy, but had to wonder how long that would last. Still he asked,
"Why is your ass blistered like that?" Ty's ass had not been lashed in any way Seth was familiar with. It had blood blisters under the skin and was obviously bruised. Paddling is not a wide custom in Germany.
"One of the ranch doctors visited for some reason and picked me. He made me stand still while he paddled me. If I moved he added licks. I think he started to give me just 20, but I kept movin' so I got about eighty I guess. Anyway, you better start doin' right or your ass will look worse than mine."
"What do I do if I have to piss?" It had been weeks since Seth had to be concerned with it, he almost just let it squirt out.
"Just go to the edge of the field and piss there. Don't let 'em catch you pissin' in your square; you'll get worse than they already gave you."
When Seth returned, he said, "What do I do if I have to shit?"
"You hold it 'til you get to the shack. If you can't, you dig a hole here and bury it fast. If they catch you doin' that, you go back to the shitter for a while."
The rest of the day Ty and Seth spoke little and each weeded their patch. The trustee visited Seth often but found no reason to whip him further. This doesn't mean he was impressed, but could simply have been because he realized that when he whips a slave, that is several minutes during which the slave isn't working.
As the sun set, Ty walked through Seth's patch to get to exit the field. "Come on," he said.
Seth followed. He walked painfully because his back had stiffened because of his daylong posture bent over like the boot boy he once thought he wanted to be (he was seriously turned on, but the imagination of a lash is very different from the actual thing). They went to a shack similar to the one Nick visited on his first night as a honey boy.
"Since you're the new guy, you go get our food. Go to that building and bring back 6 bowls."
Seth saw others heading towards the building. None of them said anything, they all just picked up 6 bowls and headed back to their own shacks. He saw that the bowls were just laid out on a narrow shelf. They had apparently been set out for some time. One slave had the duty of keeping flies off the food. "I think I like my job better," Seth thought. He was familiar with the bowl's contents. A promotion from the toilet didn't mean better food apparently.
Seth didn't learn the names of his shackmates that night. They ate quickly and silently, and all but Ty went straight to sleep. Ty motioned that they go outside (though since the shack's boards made it more like a cage than an actual room, the activity seemed pointless).
"You ain't cum yet have you?"
It hadn't occurred to Seth before just then that he hadn't. "Not yet, am I allowed?"
"You see anybody with a whip lookin'?" Ty said, and Seth actually started looking around. "Stop that, ain't nobody lookin', nobody cares what we do 'sept try to escape. Since you just got out of the shitter, I'll let you pick what you want to do to me, but then I get to do the same to you."
Do? That didn't really make any sense to Seth and his still mushy brain. He must have looked very confused because Ty said,
"You want me to suck you or you want to fuck my ass?"
"Suck." He thought it would be too painful for Ty to take the ass pounding Seth thought he could give. Again, he couldn't know how long that level of sympathy would last.
Like Nick, he shot his load quickly. Ty, though, tried to swallow all of Seth's jizz. It came too rapidly and with too much force for Ty to manage, so he coughed just a little. He spit some cum back into Seth's pubes and was oozing cum from his mouth and even a little came dribbling from his nose.
"Shit that burns." He blew his nose quickly, pushing one nostril closed at a time. He laughed though. "Damn, I forgot how much you cum when they won't let you for two months."
Seth just smiled a lazy smile. He wanted to sleep desperately, but the equation was only half solved.
"I want to fuck that tight ass." Ty said, and Seth just looked at him. "You got to shit?" Seth nodded. "See that little spade hanging on the shack? Dig you a little hole, shit, and fill it back in." Seth complied quickly and then Ty was ready to get to his part of the equation.
He lubed his cock with what Seth hoped was enough spit. No ruler was around, so Seth could only guess. It was the largest he'd seen in person and obviously the largest he'd have up his ass up to that point. But he was still so horny, even after that orgasm, that he wanted at least all Ty could give him.
Ty showed neither Seth's tender ass, nor his out of practice asshole much sympathy. He guided his cock slowly only for a couple of thrusts, mainly to see if there was any shit left in the way, not out of any sense of delicacy. Then he just started fucking like an overworked slave should. He grunted and rutted with no sense of decorum (another item slaves either dispense with quickly or is beaten out). Seth did the same, some from pain, most from pleasure. After Ty shot his own load up Seth's ass, he smiled at the German and went back into the shack to sleep. Seth was hard again from the fucking, so he jerked off. Just one more orgasm before he went to sleep, it had been such a long dry spell.