Archive;'Odessa Ranch 8'{Ian Jacobs}( MM, sm, ws, scat, bd )[ 8 of ? ]
Odessa Ranch
Part 8, From the Yoke
Mike's view of the initiation rite was one thing, but the view from those in the yoke shouldn't be ignored. The 4 slaves who made up the mule train had never done it before and never done anything quite like it. They had all been toilets-which many would consider the worst possible use-and they had been traditional slaves. Being mules was more variety than many slaves ever got, and might have been more variety than the 4 wanted.
Nick's Adonis
Nick could see Mike bring the three others; his attentions went directly to the tallest of the 4. Mike tied Seth to Nick's right. Nick waited until Mike went over to talk with Buck.
"I'm Nick," He whispered over his right shoulder. He didn't care if he risked a lashing either for him or his Adonis.
"Seth."
He now had a name to put with the face and body. For now, that would be enough. He wouldn't risk punishment for any more information and was sated enough not to bother with trying to touch him, though his hands were unbound. He stared straight ahead as was his practice and waited for Mike's orders.
The yoke and bridle were not as uncomfortable as Nick imagined from seeing pictures of similar set ups. The bit only hurt when Mike pulled too quickly on the reins, but it made him drool constantly. He thought about it. Drooling was not something he'd done since he was a toddler. It was one step towards animal that he'd never considered before. After a couple of hours he stopped the nearly involuntary slurping and just let the spit drip where it had to.
Mainly though, Nick thought of his shoulder being only 2 feet from Seth. That thought overrode the feelings coming from his bleeding knees. Since he could only go the direction the yoke demanded, he could turn his head enough to consider Seth's moving body. He was less tanned than Nick would have thought, and as cliche as it sounds, Seth was nearly golden. His hair was longer than when Nick first saw him, and was hay dry as essentially every slave on the ranch. Nick noticed that Seth's cock was flaccid where his own was rock hard-he had to piss, but was too hard to do it without stopping so his balls hurt double from the stimulation and the bladder pressure.
All four of them learned how to fall into trot pretty quickly, so they made their way to the starting point with it's stacks of hay bales before sundown. Stopping brought the full effect of the pain from his knees past everything else in Nick's head. He lifted one up and looked; he didn't want to brush away any of the grit because he didn't want to risk even more pain. He was afraid the trek left his kneecaps exposed; it certainly felt like that. The pain was more a burn than a stabbing pain-that would follow after he was allowed to stand-and his quick examination proved they were more scuffed and sand burned than worn to the bone. (The hours on the hard scrabble though had bruised the kneecaps on all four slaves, and each of them was going to realize that at the same time when Mike gave the order to stand.)
Nick heard Ty giggle and then listened as Mike whipped him. Nick couldn't see the punishment as it all took place behind him. For the first time since arriving he heard a whipping he didn't actually see. It was surreal for him. Mike was either extremely pissed, or had enough pent up aggression to be brutal with the strap, the snap report from it hitting Ty was very sharp and quick. Nick didn't know Ty's pain threshold-very high-but from the noises of Ty trying not to do more than grunt told him that Mike was laying it on HARD. He knew from empathy which lashes landed on ass flesh and which on back since the sound from the leather was noticeably broader and deeper when it hit the slightly looser ass flesh. Nick tried to count the lashes because he wanted some idea of what to expect if Mike decided to whip him, but he became too engrossed in trying to picture exactly what was happening. Nick decided that Mike would cause more pain than he had yet run across and wanted to put that off for as long as possible.
Then Mike unhooked Seth and moved him directly in front of Nick. Nick looked at the profile of his obsession. He hated horses, but with Seth in this position, Nick understood what horse lovers saw in a beautiful breed. He watched Mike orchestrate Ty's equine cock into Seth's hole and winced in sympathetic pain when Seth jumped. He hated being a honey boy almost as much as he hated horses, but he wanted to clean Ty's cock; this made him drool even more.
Sex was common in the stable. Nick enjoyed it often and always with an abandon he hadn't yet taken for granted, and always with an abandon that was entirely different from all other sex he had ever had. Mores, ethics, emotional tendrils, all the societal and psychological barriers against the simple joy of an orgasm were gone. Inhibitions were gone without the alcohol to blame. Obligations to call or at least claim to were gone. All had been stripped away except the act, its completion, and a sense of release, catharsis, joy, ease were all that was left. If Zen were sex, then the dynamic of the ranch at Odessa would be the ironic monastery and unequivocal Mecca.
That said, Nick couldn't help but want something besides that. He wanted the same sense of release but from and with Seth. He didn't know what Buck would do if he saw a relationship forming, but Nick also knew the likelihood of him and Seth being both close enough and unfettered were tiny. Longing was renewed. His life had become so focused on either the sex of the moment, or avoiding punishment, that the idea of longing, or of even craving, had left him after just a couple of days in the honey room-he'd even stopped wanting to earn his place out of that hole after just a couple of days of the treatment, he just wanted to get through each hour, each day, advanced thought was more unpleasant than the taste of shit and the wide sting of the lash. Now he was like a 4 year old in a candy store looking at the largest piece of chocolate he'd ever seen. Nick saw Mike fuck Seth with the same sort of abandon he now knew well. He saw Seth with no expression. He saw Mike doing what he most wanted to do from a distance of barely a yard and was unable to do anything about it. He could have jerked off and taken the punishment, but what would that have given him? He would have had momentary release from a longing that would return with the same intensity the second Seth rejoined the yoke. Nick wanted to cry. He hadn't felt like that since he left Atlanta in the wee hours and that was from a sense of relief rather than emotional torture. Until now, he thought he'd left that behind.
Fortunately for Nick, Mike was a snorer. Mike had make a sort of arm chair from the bales and slept with his boots resting on Ty's ass; Nick could see looking over his shoulder. He noticed that Seth was nodding between sleep and not quite awake. He decided he would risk serious pain for him and the other three just to do what came next.
He reached over and grabbed Seth's cock gently. Seth did two opposing things, both by instinct, at once while coming awake: he moved his leg away so Nick could get a better hold, and shook his head while trying to say no. There was enough moonlight for the look on Nick's face to calm Seth. And Nick motioned backwards so Seth could witness that Mike was deeply asleep. Nick moved the skin of Seth's uncut cock slowly, pretending that the cock was up his ass. He moved his hand with the same speed and intensity he would want from Seth if mounted by him. Seth bucked a little showing he wanted Nick to go faster. Nick looked at him eye to eye again and removed his hand. His look said, "My way." Seth nodded and Nick began again. He didn't want to torture this beautiful man, but he wasn't going to risk a whipping for anything less than the fullest measure of what he wanted. When Seth started to make little whining sounds, Nick felt in the space between his heart and his gut that he had gotten what he wanted, so he jerked quickly. Seth came with only a slight spasm and controlled panting.
Nick reached his usual hand for his own cock-it was awkward to jerk Seth with his left hand, and he hoped he hadn't hurt Seth in any way with that unfamiliar hand. He barely had time to take a decent grip before Seth's hand moved it away. Nick really didn't expect it. The idea of reciprocity was becoming law for him, but he didn't know whether or not Seth would comply, and anyway the jerk had been unilateral, even ignoring the fact of the bits making true questioning impossible.
Nick's mind went to his place of abandon, the darkness behind his eyelids lit by minor optical lightening when the waves and sparks of pleasure pulsed through his body's several parts. For the last several days, Nick had been practicing cum control on himself so he could maximize the pleasure-once the horses were out, there was little else to do, so he could invest in a little self improvement. Fantasies about the two of them exploring outside the yoke began to enter his head, but he moved them aside for the darkness and singular physical sensation; this is what he wanted most, he would have preferred not to be bound and have his cock in Seth, but this was the closest he was likely going to get.
Seth was beginning to get impatient and let Nick know by gripping his cock harder and jerking with as much intensity as he could. Nick removed his new controls and let himself cum. To remove the evidence, he pissed on the scattered spots of cum, just in case Mike noticed the spots in the morning and decided to make a punishment case for it. He motioned to Seth to do the same.
Morning hurt. Mike ordered them to stand and all 8 knees popped, all 4 slaves groaned. They all moved like they did when first released from the honey room. Seth and Nick waited while Ty and Jayson put the first load of hay into the wagon. Mike didn't have to use the carriage whip too often because the slaves wanted to be finished with the task more than Mike himself. The fields and the stables were more predictable and much less painful.
It took 4 round trips to get the hay moved from the distant corner to where the cattle were currently assembled. Their knees hurt more from the sweat irritating the skin than anything else, but they were all just pleased that they were moving, that Mike used the lash very seldom, and that their day as mules was going to be over.
After the last load, Mike went over to Buck while the slaves stood. They were all starving, thirsty, and aching. They knew the task was over, but had no idea if there was another in store. Mike came back over and said something none had heard since arriving and would likely not hear again for sometime.
"Thanks y'all."
Fortunately he left them bridled for that solecism, none of them had been trained to handle kindness.
He unhooked each from his spot in the train. They shook their heads to loosen their strained necks and checked out the damage to their knees.
"Y'all carry the yoke and follow me."
"Sir yes sir." In unison.
They put the yoke back in Buck's personal stable. Mike then ordered them to follow him to the honey room.
"Y'all may one day have to do what I just did. You did good, I'm going to do something now, but if you tell another hand, I will personally whip the skin off your asses. Y'all take a shower, I'll have another slave bring you some food, then you can take all night if you want to have a time with each other or the honey boys."
"Sir yes sir."