Someone Has To Do It
By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com
Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories
Part 13
It's ironic, really, isn't it? Even though a bloke might not want to fuck, when he's properly stimulated he still can't help getting an erection. And Rob was soon showing that he was physically capable of fucking, although I was very concerned about whether I could control him or not if I untied him from the bed - normally it would be no problem as I am stronger and in better shape that he is, and I was trained in fighting. But when a man is aroused sexually he gets a new strength from somewhere, and I didn't want to risk having a full blown brawl right there in the study: I'd probably have won, but it wouldn't have been a very good introduction to the pleasure of sex for William - and if Rob was unconscious, he'd probably lose his hard-on.
As Rob lay there watching, I decided to do it the other way around: I went and undid William from the horse, and although he struggled, one arm around him was enough: It felt good to have his lithe body, slippery with sweat, pressed against me, and my cock pressed itself into him, trying to nestle in his bum crack as we stood there looking at his dad. I nuzzled at his neck and ears again to generate a bit of sexual excitement, and whispered to him "We're going to do something a bit different now, William.... Now, just do as I say and it won't be all that bad - but if you struggle too much, I'll have to put you across my knees and really spank your bum. Do you understand? You've felt my hands there once before, and when I'm sitting down with you sprawled across me, you have to believe that it would be a whole lot tougher!"
He was only half resisting as I moved across the room with him towards the sofa. Rob started to shout "No, no... You can't be serious..."
"Rob, one more word out of you and you'll be gagged again, and I'll give William here a little tap on the bum, too...."
William was all tense as I gripped him and I could feel him sweating profusely against my body. I moved my head down so he could feel my breath in is ear, and whispered "Now this isn't going to hurt - you're well stretched from the epic fuck you've just had, and your dad isn't as big as me anyway. So we're going to stand on the sofa, astride your dad, and then you're going to lower yourself onto his lap - although you won't get there immediately, as his cock is sticking up, as you can see. So as you go down let your bum spread and take his cock up into your arse, and lower yourself ever so slowly..."
"No, Steve, please..."
"William, just don't panic. I'm here to help you, and provided you just do as you're told, nothing's going to hurt you - it will be a bit uncomfortable, perhaps, but you'll soon get the thrill of a cock inside you again, and you'll forget all that..."
"No, Steve...."
"Yes, William. Look, you've got to learn that in this life, when things are inevitable, you may as well accept them and start to enjoy them. You're going to lower yourself onto that cock, and there's nothing can stop it.... So try to relax, and take the most from it that you can.... Now, come on..."
He started to struggle as I went to get up on to the sofa, so I pushed him away from me, grabbed his left biceps so he couldn't go far, and slapped his bum four times with my open palm. He shouted, and for the first stroke was continuing to struggle, but by the fourth he'd sort of collapsed. I ran my hands over his bum to comfort him a bit, and said "Now, that's what happens if you don't obey and do as you're told - your father can tell you later about how he can really punish a servant who's disobedient, or so he says, so count yourself lucky I didn't cane you: my hand isn't nearly as hard at punishment as the cane is. But don't count on your luck holding. Now, come here..."
I gripped him around the upper body again, and I'm sure his bum did feel warmer against me as we got up to stand on the sofa. Then I started to lower him, all the time giving him instructions... You know the kind of thing... "Bend your knees.... Slowly now.... Can you feel your dad's cock on your hole.... Right, now very slowly, very gently.... There... That wasn't so bad, was it?"
I was bent over the squatting boy, looking down at Rob, and saw a look of pure hatred in his eyes. "Hey, Rob, how does it feel to be made to have sex with a sixteen year old? I didn't enjoy it much earlier - so let's see if we can't give you a better time of it...."
I leant down to whisper in William's ears again "OK, now the trick is to move up and down - not so high that your dad's cock slips out.... But we want to give him a good time, don't we? And you're lucky, as I'm here to help - this is a pretty athletic way of taking cock, as your thighs have to work really hard, but with my help, it won't be as difficult...."
I changed my grip so that my hands were under his armpits - his pit hair was agreeably soft and silky (and very sweaty!), and began to pull him upwards, and then to lower him. He soon seemed to get the rhythm, and gradually I found he was doing it himself, with only the merest guidance from me. He really started to bounce up and down on Rob's cock, and as I looked down I could see his own cock flying up and down in sympathy with the motion.
I'm not sure that Rob actually shot a load, as after a time I got bored with just watching, and really wanted to take part again. So I let William go right down so he was squatting in his father's lap, with my hands on his shoulders not so much to hold him down, but to let him know that he should stay there.
"That was good, wasn't it, Rob? You've never fucked me like that, which is surprising as you can be a lazy bugger, and having the other bloke do all the work ought to appeal to you. Still, there won't be a chance now. I pity poor old Marco and Pavel and Ian, though - I expect you'll have them bobbing up and down on you most nights from now on!"
"Oh Steve, you're forgetting.... Even after you've lost your balls - and I'm thinking now that we'll take that cock off, too - you've still got an arse. I was thinking I might sell you, but not now, oh no - I'm going to keep you here, naked all the time, with just about half an inch of cock sticking out of your crotch as a pathetic reminder of what you used to be like and as a warning to other. And then I'll fuck you, and fuck you, and fuck you.... And I'll give orders that the others are to do so too - after all, you won't be any good at satisfying them, will you?"
"Rob, stop your sick fantasies! I'm out of here. You've had me for the last time..."
"You'll never get away. You'll be dragged back, and I think I'll have you docked here - I'll get a doctor to come around, and have all the servants lined up to watch..."
"We'll see about that!" Actually, I was worried, as I didn't see how I was going to escape. But what the hell. I was enjoying giving Rob a dose of his own medicine.
"So, Rob - this little sex party you've laid on this evening... It's a bit one-sided, isn't it? I've been fucked twice, and I've fucked once. William has fucked once and been fucked twice, and you, Rob... Well, you've fucked twice. Do you see something missing, something that needs to be done, to bring a pleasing air of symmetry to the whole proceedings?"
"Steve, if you make a break for it now, get the fuck out of here and try to get away, I promise I won't call the police for half an hour..."
"That wasn't the answer I was looking for, Rob! Two and one, one and two, and two only. What's missing, Rob? Has being married to a hot-shot lawyer addled your brain, so you can't reason things out for yourself?"
I saw him just glaring, and was in half a mind to slap his face to get a bit of respect from him, but time was moving on. "OK, Rob, if you give up, I'll solve the puzzle for you. It's obvious when you think about it - Rob's got to take cock! The problem is, Rob, who should do it? There's no 'fair' way, really - if either William or I fuck you, we end up as two-two. Still, that's life, isn't it? So, Rob, perhaps I'll give you the choice - who's it going to be, Rob? Young William, who won't hurt all that much as he's still got a relatively small cock, and he'll shoot almost immediately anyway? Or me - well, Rob, you know how I do it, don't you? And it will take a long time, and my nice thick juicy cock will give you a good stretching..."
"You can't be serious! You can't expect William to fuck his dad..."
"He'll do as he's told, Rob. Especially with me holding him, and my hand ready to give him some 'instruction' on his bum if he fails to obey..."
"Please, Steve... Please, I'm begging you, don't make him do that..."
"It's not me, Rob. I'm giving you a choice. It's you who'd be making him do it if you choose him. All you have to do is to ask me to fuck you instead... That's simple enough, isn't it? After all, we used to be mates, and it's not as if we haven't been more intimate recently - you've fucked me often enough.... So come on, which is it going to be? Quick and easy with William, your son, or, shall we say, 'more intense', with me?"
"You can't ask a man to make that choice..."
"I'm not asking, Rob. I'm telling you... Now, choose..."
"Steve, please... You can't ask a man to choose who's going to rape him..."
"Oh Rob, it's not rape - it's just three blokes together for a night of sex, isn't it? That's what you gathered us here for - how can that be rape? But you're probably right - I'm so used to not being allowed to make a decision on anything, that I've almost forgotten what it's like! So I'll fuck you Rob. And just to show you that I'm not an unthinking sadist, I'm going to make it easy for you, and stretch you and lube you... So we need some lube, and I think we've used up all the stuff you made me produce early on."
I was still holding my arm around William as he remained squatted on his father's cock, and I leaned close to him again and said calmly "Now, you saw how a man can be told to produce lube earlier on, didn't you? So why don't you show your dad and me how you can do it? Get wanking...."
"Steve, no, please... I can't do it in front of dad..."
"You can and you will. Just start wanking yourself, think lovely thoughts, and feel the warmth of your dad's cock still up your arse, and it will all come right, you'll see...."
"No, Steve..."
"Yes, William. And I'll make it easier for you - you remember how your dad showed you how to play with my nips earlier on, and how that made me go hard? Well...."
I wrapped my other arm around his lithe body now, and started to play with his nips with both my hands - I don't know if you've ever noticed, but blokes' nips only seem to come in two sizes: big and dark and fleshy aureoles with big nips, like I've got. Or small, pink ones, with tiny nips. Well, William's were the latter, but as I teased then, they did go hard, and just about gave me enough to be able to get my fingers on and really start to tweak. I could feel his body thrusting, trying to get away, but with my arms wrapped around him, his dad's cock up his arse, and his legs bent underneath him, there wasn't a chance, was there? Still, I could see the required result, and his cock was jutting out from him, first horizontal, and then, as a young bloke's can, it rose above that.
"OK, William, come on now.... Show us how you wank, or shall I do it for you?"
He started to stroke himself then, and it was clear he was an expert at it, like most young blokes (and, I suppose, most blokes in general!). He gasped at me "The ashtray, Steve... To catch it..."
"No need, just let it fly...."
He carried on, and suddenly I saw the telltale signs of spots of clear pre-cum landing on Rob's chest, followed almost immediately by a couple of big streaks of proper cum. You have to envy young blokes, don't you? To be able to produce that much cum twice in one night! And with such force - they had sprayed right up and it was trickling down from Rob's neck!
He sat there, panting, and I whispered to him "Good lad! Now, I'm afraid it's back on the horse for you..."
"Steve, please... Don't fuck me again..."
"No, I'm not going to. But I've got to put you somewhere, as your dad and me have some unfinished business.... You heard me...."
William walked back over to the horse, and I only clamped one of his wrists o the front legs so he had a lot of movement. Then I went back over to the sofa. "So, Rob, you used to like breaking in guys to sex, just as I had to. But you did it even when it wasn't your job.... Like when I came here, and since then. I think it's time you found out how truly dreadful that is, don't you?"
"Don't be such an idiot, Steve! We both used to do it as we were instructors, and the servants coming through the training centre needed to be broken in - someone had to do it. And when you came here - well, you're a lifetime indenture, aren't you? And everyone knows that one of the reasons people are prepared to pay highly for such a contract is that the men and women involved can be used in whatever way you want. Julie is quite within her rights to use you for her pleasure, as I am within mine. But you're so far in the wrong, Steve: you're breaking the law, by molesting your master. And you're wrong morally too - I had every right to fuck you, as you're my servant and I'm your master. But it's totally unacceptable for a servant to fuck his master..."
"That's bullshit, and you know it, Rob! We were mates, and you fucked me. Fucked me against my will, not as two blokes who like each other might do after a few pints when there's no women around. It's as simple as that. So now it's just the reverse - I've decided to fuck you, and that's all there is to it. No right or wrong, no laws, nothing: you wanted to fuck me, and now I want to fuck you. It's just a matter of who's in charge, who's controlling the scene, isn't it, really? You were, and now I am."
"...and I will be again, Steve. So think on, about that, before you do anything stupid."
I smiled down at him. "Come on, Rob. Let' stop dissembling. Let's get your ankles up around your neck so I can see you properly..."
I reached down for his feet, but he resisted. I smiled at him again. "Do you remember what you did last time I tried to stop you lifting my legs? Or, rather, when you thought, or said you thought, that I was resisting you? If you want to avoid a cane on your arse, Rob, you'd better start co-operating...."
Well, unlike young William, I didn't spare him as I got him ready - four fingers, and a lot of pressure to stretch him. And I made him suck my fingers clean, even though he choked and gagged at the smell and taste of his own shit. The fuck wasn't as spectacular as I'd thought it was going to be, though: like a lot of things, the anticipation is better than the actuality. I'd thought for so long about getting revenge on Rob, about how I'd fuck him until he was raw and sore, that when it came to it, it was a bit of an anticlimax. Sure, I forced my way in. And then I was pretty brutal in constantly stabbing at him as hard as I could, pulling right out and then almost "charging" back in to his hole as it was still open, and so on. But somehow it seemed "mechanical" - it was almost as if I was a very good actor, following a detailed script of how you really fuck a bloke hard and totally humiliate and use him, rather than being a proper stud and really enjoying the sex.
Still, at the end of it, when I'd finally shot my load and was lying on top of him, he was whimpering and sobbing, although I felt nothing: it was as if I was empty inside. I decided to mark him with a series of love bites, so that his bitch of a wife, Julie, would know what had gone on, and enjoyed hearing him moan again as my teeth took his tender flesh. But then it was over. I looked at him, sprawled across the sofa, and almost laughed as he looked so pathetic: he was no longer the man who owned servants, who used them vilely, who beat them - he was just a man lying there recovering from the fucking of a lifetime!
Now, though, the horrible reality of my position began to strike home. I was trapped inside this place, and had nowhere to go. I left them tied there and ran up to Rob's bedroom, and pulled stuff out of the wardrobes until I found some of his things that vaguely fit me, then went downstairs again. He was still lying sprawled there, and I sat beside him and took his balls in my hand. OK, Rob - it must be possible to turn off the perimeter fence thing: where's the control?"
He just shrugged, and so I gave him just a little squeeze on his balls, watching with interest as his face contorted in pain. "I think you heard me, Rob. Where is it?"
This time his shrug and my squeeze, a lot less gentle, resulted in him crying out in agony.
It was William who shouted "Please, Steve, don't hurt dad... The control's hidden in the second drawer on the left in dad's desk...."
I tore the drawer open, and instead of a normal blank space, saw a sophisticated control unit with switches, and a LED display that said "Enter passcode".
"What's the passcode, William?"
"I don't know, Steve."
So I squeezed Rob's balls again, and although he shrieked, he didn't say anything. It was William who sounded desperate "Steve, I don't know, I swear. Please, don't hurt dad - he never told me the passcode."
I looked down at Rob. "I believe him. So I guess it's up to you, Rob, to tell me how to turn this thing off..."
He smiled. "Fuck you, Steve! I'm never going to tell you. Without it, you're trapped here, and sooner or later I'll be released, and then you're off to be de-balled and stubbed. If I tell you, you'll probably kill me before you go. So you can forget me even thinking about telling you..."
I squeezed his balls again, and he screamed. Above his gasps and the retching noises he was making, he managed to stammer out "I'll never tell you, fucker! There's a limit to what you can do to my balls, and you're almost there. I'll never tell you, Never, understand?"
I went over to the antique ornamental case that held his canes, and chose a medium lightweight one: capable of cutting the skin when wielded the sort of power I could apply. Standing in front of him, flexing it, he looked up. "You're wasting your time.
You can flog me if you like, but I'm never going to tell you. The pleasure of seeing that crotch of yours without your cock and balls will more than repay any pain you can cause in the short term. So, strike away... I can take whatever you can dish out, just as you survived being flogged by me....
He struggled as I grabbed his ankles and pulled them in turn back above his head. It was tricky to tie them to his spread-out arms, but when I'd finished his bum was very neatly exposed: the long thighs, the arse hole, everything. Rob lay there, looking at me from between his legs, totally defiant.
"The passcode, Rob."
"Fuck you!"
So I hit him, Hit him four times, with all my strength. And watched with some satisfaction as the red lines broke out on his white flesh and then the blood started to run down from them. Rob was screaming, of course, and I thought about gagging him again, but decided against it as I know a man needs to be allowed to express himself fully at times like this. Finally he stopped, and still lay there, glaring at me.
"Go on, Hit me!" His tone was scornful. "You know as well as I do, Steve, that after a time you can't hurt me any more - so just hit away. I'll have my revenge - maybe I'll schedule you for a caning every week, to give time for the last one to wear off...."
I picked up the very whippy thin cane and let Rob see me flex it. "Remember how this one is used, Rob? You think I can't hurt you any more? I seem to remember you used this on my arsehole.... So shall we try that?"
He started screaming before I struck, and then sat there looked defiant again as he realised I hadn't actually done it. I just couldn't. I remember the complete and absolute agony that had caused me, and there was just no way I could inflict that on another man, not even a bastard like Rob.
"So, Steve, you're starting to see sense... Now, just release me, and I'll only have you castrated and stubbed, and will only cane you once a month..."
"I think you're right, Rob, I can't hurt you enough to make you tell me. Not because you won't break, but because I'm not a complete bastard like you. So we're going to do something different...."
I took a heavier cane this time, as I'd had enough of blood. Rob started shouting as he saw my intention, but I had to go ahead with it. Poor William's bum looked so frail and innocent as he lay there on the horse, and I whispered "Sorry, lad, but this has to be done...."
I gave him only two strokes, and then right across his bum, so that the whole length of the cane didn't make contact and four little red marks appeared on the rounded mounds of him. He cried out, of course, but a cane like that is designed to leave a dull, throbbing ache rather than a searing stinging pain, and so he just lay there sobbing.
Moving back to stand in front of Rob, I said "The passcode?"
"You bastard. Leave him alone - he hasn't done anything to you..."
"...except fuck me! He's sixteen, Rob, and a man. And a man has to take responsibility for his own actions. You egged him on, but he wanted to do it... And now he's suffering the consequences. So, are you going to give me the passcode, or shall I continue educating William?"
"One three seven two."
"You're sure, Rob? I've heard about these 'panic' codes... Are you sure that's the one that turns it off? If I hear the alarms going, I promise you that I'll beat William so hard that he never enjoys sex, not ever...."
Rob just shook his head, and so I went to the box and keyed the numbers in. A red light lit up above "system disarmed". Cautiously I went over to the corner and picked up the controller, and pressed the button - not a tingle from my collar!
"Well, that was sensible. Now you just lie there, Rob, and I'll leave William on the horse, and I'll be off... I expect Finch will find you in the morning."
I raced upstairs to our bedroom - look, it was no use doing anything about Pavel and Marco as they were quite happy there, so I didn't tell them about the control system being off, but instead told Ian to "come with me as the master wants you as well tonight."
Once we were out of the room, I hugged him. "Come on, mate... We're off..."
And then when he looked puzzled, I explained hat we were escaping. Ian's reaction shocked me, then "No, Steve... I'm not coming."
"I thought you liked me... I thought we'd escape, be real mates...."
"Steve, get real! You won't escape! Even though you can get over the barrier, they'll find you. And they'd find me. And then what? There are worse places than this. And I like it here.... Well, compared to Bermondsey, it's paradise...."
"Ian, you're little worse than a slave! You have to work naked, the master can decide to fuck you again, once I'm gone..."
"...but I'm well fed, I've got blokes to fuck whenever I want to, and I like the life, outdoors, growing things...."
We were down the stairs by now, heading towards the potting shed. Inside I got the big, heavy loppers we used for pruning the biggest trees. "Try these on my collar...."
"Steve, if you tamper with it, it will kill you..."
"It's turned off, I told you..."
"No, Steve, I can't risk it..."
"You've got to, Ian.... If I don't get this off, you're right, I'll never make it. And then I'll be castrated, stubbed...."
"No, Steve, I can't risk it... I like you too much.... Let's go back inside and tell the master you're sorry.... He'll probably only have you whipped then...."
"Ian, I can't stand it! I've got to get away. If you really do 'like' me.... Help me!"
Very reluctantly, Ian took up the heavy thing and got the blades on my collar. I watched, almost seething with impatience, as his muscles strained as he tried to close the handles, and then it worked - there was a "snick" sound, and the thing fell away. Ian came right close to me and pulled at my collar, his muscles heaving again as he pulled it open, and handed it to me.
"Right, Ian... Now for you..."
"Steve, no... I told you."
"Ian, it's not 'liking' me, is it? I though you and me had something else going. I've never said this to another bloke before, so I don't know how to do it.... I don't just 'like' you, Ian, it's more... You know that... And I thought you were the same...."
"I do, Steve! You know that. And that's why I don't want you to carry on like this. There's still time to apologise to the master, and then we can be together...."
Look, I think I'd have convinced him ultimately, if I'd had more time - I'd just have crushed him in my arms, kissed him, played with his cock, and then fucked him. But we heard the distant sound of police sirens. And at the same time, there was a kind of "fizzle" from my collar as it lay on the floor.
"That's the police, Steve! Quick, back and see the master, before they get here..."
"But how...? I left them really secure..."
"He probably gave you a fake code - one that turned off the barrier, but also silently alerted the monitoring station, and when they tried phoning back, Finch would have gone to see what was the problem...."
"That bastard...."
"That clinches it, Steve... Now, you go! I've got to stay now..."
I took one look at him, and saw he was serious, and gave him a quick kiss. I pulled on some clothes and my boots, and sprinted down the garden and over the fence. All my plans, such as they were, were in tatters: I'd thought about taking the car and driving into London.... But now I was running across the manicured lawns and tasteful shrubberies of the other houses on St George's Hill, very conscious of the moan of the police sirens behind me.
I skulked along the edge of the Byfleet Road, keeping
in the shadows and trying to hide myself as much as possible as I made my way towards the station - there's a lot of traffic along there, but not many pedestrians in that affluent part of Surrey, and I didn't want to look conspicuous. There was an unanticipated problem, though, when I got down to the station building at the bottom of the hill: even though I'd got my stash of euros, I couldn't use them in the machines as a notice pointed out that under the anti-terrorism regulations tickets could only be bought after your National Identity Card had been read - and as an indentured, I didn't have one of those, did I?
Fortunately just before the next London train was due another bloke came down the ramp, and he too was dressed in "work" clothes. I pulled the collar of my sweater up a bit, and as he bought a ticket, muttered "Can you buy one for me too, mate?"
He looked at me, and saw that I was obviously a labourer, and said quietly "It's illegal, you know..."
"Yes, but I forgot my ID this morning..."
"Pull the other one, mate! I reckon you're an illegal, aren't you?"
I almost froze as I heard him say that, but he had used the word "illegal" and not "indentured", so instead of hitting him, I bluffed it out.
"No..."
"Yes, I reckon you're one of those illegals from Wales... So you haven't got an ID card, have you?"
"No. Look..."
"It's OK by me, mate. I think it's stupid the way you all broke away from us, left the UK, but there you are. And now there's no work over on your side of the border, all you Welsh blokes are coming over here.... And they won't let you in, will they. What do you do anyway?"
"I'm a landscape gardener."
"Out of the frying pan into the fire, then! There's no work here for the likes of you, as it's all done by Indentureds now...."
"It's tough. They hardly pay me anything. But I can get some work occasionally, especially around here.... When they're buying a new servant or something... What about you, though?"
"Chippie. Well, more of a cabinet maker, really. I can still get work, as I've got the skills, but it gets harder and harder as more and more blokes are indentured...."
He looked at me again. "I reckon you deserve a chance. It must be tough, being away from home.... Where are you going? Waterloo?"
He put his ID card into the machine, pressed the "cash" button, and held out his hand for my notes. "No, make it a through ticket to the Underground - all zones."
We went down on to the platform together, and I'm sure that just as the train doors started to close I heard the wail of sirens up on the road... I was so worried that I said goodbye at Clapham Junction, and then, to try to confuse things, walked the distance to Clapham Common to get the tube, rather than taking a bus.
It felt so odd to be "free" again, walking the streets. But in a sense I wasn't "free" at all - every time I saw a policeman, or even a closed-circuit TV camera, I began to worry. And I soon found out that life on the run was going to be a lot harder than I'd imagined - a whole lot of the little bars and restaurants along the road had a little green sticker in the windows with a pictogram of a plastic card on it, an the motto "No card, no service. We're Crime Fighters." Even with those euros, it looked as if I was going to be hungry.
Fortunately there was a chocolate machine on Clapham Common Station, and I filled my pockets, and on the journey towards Central London I wondered what the fuck I was going to do. With no ID card, it looked as if I couldn't work, or eat, and I felt pretty certain I couldn't get a room or anything, either. It was getting late, too, and near the time of the last train, so I changed onto the Piccadilly at Leicester Square , and headed West.
Hounslow West Station is pretty much in the middle of a residential suburb, built in the 1930s - mostly given over to workers at the airport, I suppose. But at least I wasn't totally conspicuous in the streets as there were people going about their business as it's pretty much a 24-hour operation. I trudged towards the A4 and fortunately there was an all night caff that was clearly used by lorry drivers. In the steamy warmth inside they didn't seem to mind too much about ID cards, and I laid out a pile of my diminishing euros on a big plate of bacon, sausage, toast, beans, eggs, fried bread and black pudding - it was fucking marvellous: good as Pavel's cooking was ,he was never allowed to serve us a proper fry-up like this.
I watched the drivers eating, finally selected one - a huge fat slob, who looked lonely - and went and bought another big mug of tea, then went and sat at the same table. He was lonely, I guess, as he wanted to talk - and all I could really do was listen anyway, as I had no idea who was in the running for "the cup", or who was who on the latest celebrity game show on TV. But finally I got a word in edgeways and asked him where he was going, and another torrent came out about the way he was really put on, as no one else in his depot wanted to go to Wales, and he'd got this stuff for Cardiff...."
Well, as I said, he looked lonely, and he liked talking, and I was a willing passenger.... We'd been bowling along the M4 for a couple of hours when the endless flow of drivel stopped suddenly. "All right, boy-o, time for you to earn your passage.... Get your head down and get started..."
I was astonished, and just sat there in the cab. "Listen, you're an escaped indenture.... And if you don't want me to get on the mobile and call the police, you'll start to repay me for the ride... Now get your head down...." As he said this, the driver put his podgy hand down and unzipped his fly.
"How did you know?"
"I listen to the radio - there's not much else to do. And they said a big, strong bloke had escaped in the West London area. And then there's you neck...."
Instinctively I reached up and felt my non-existent collar.
"...that line in the tan. You wore a collar until very recently, didn't you?"
"So why did you give me a lift?"
"I told you - get your head down, and get to work...."
"Look, just let me out..."
"One call is all it takes...." His hands were stroking at his crotch now. "One little call, and you'll be back with your master. So come on... I know all about you indentures - you get used for sex, so what's the problem?"
Well he was right, I suppose. So I leaned over, and put my head down - his jeans stank of stale piss, and I thought he clearly didn't pay much attention to personal hygiene as I got his cock out - something reaffirmed as his 'skin pulled back as I started to lick at him and the vile smell of dried cum, piss and sweat assailed me. Still, once I'd cleaned it up, it wasn't all that different from other cocks, except of course that I was used to sex with nice trim, fit guys, who usually were clean before we started, and as I worked away at this cock I had to contend with his huge flabby thighs and overhanging belly getting in the way. I think it was that, rather than his cum, that really made me feel sick.
Afterwards he made me keep me head down in his lap as he said he liked to feel my skin against his cock, and he started laughing. "I get a lot of blokes like you.... You all think you'll get in to Wales, and then it will be OK. But it isn't going to work.... Not since they built the fence."
"What fence?"
"All along the border. Electrified. The English built it, to keep you intentureds from escaping, and the unemployed from Wales from flooding in here. And they check the passports on the Severn Bridges and the other crossings...."
"Passports?"
"Well, them or ID cards, as Wales in is the EC too. But you don't have either, do you?"
"No."
"So that's you stuffed, then. You won't make it across the border."
End Of Part Thirteen