Slave Revolt

THE SLAVE REVOLT

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

Read all of Pete's stories at groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories

Part Thirteen

Rob continued to lie in my in my arms. He was silent, and occasionally a shiver ran through him. I held him close, as tight as I could, and even wrapped my legs around him as best I could as it seemed he was cold - the fucking chain got in the way though, and it wasn't wholly satisfactory. I could feel his warn ass on my dick and my erection stubbornly refused to go down and somehow having the soft skin of his inner thighs gripping me like that was very, very erotic.

Finally, when he seemed to be a lot calmer, I tried again to reassure him. "Rob", I whispered, lowering my tone to increase the level of intimacy. "Look, getting fucked when you don't want to be fucked is pretty bad, but it's not the end of the world. You're alive and well, lying here with me, so there was no permanent problem....."

"Yes there is, Steve! They've violated, me, used me.... It's not right...."

"Rob, how do you think I felt when I was 'violated', when I was 'used'. And it's not just that your dad fucked me and stuff like that. I've had to go and stud - that's fuck women against my will, watched by a load of people, to give it a proper description. Don't you think I feel violated and used?"

"But you're a slave...."

"For fuck's sake, Rob! What's the difference? Free man, slave - it's not right to force a guy to do things he doesn't want to. Especially not private, intimate, sexual things, like fucking., or being fucked. Forgive me if I don't feel sorry for you, but it's your dad, and people like him, that make guys like me suffer, suffer all the time. I used to be a marine you know, proud to be serving my country, doing good in the world.... And now look at me!"

Rob went quiet, then muttered "I'm sorry, Steve. I didn't think about what you thought about all this stuff...."

"It's OK - you're young. It's not your fault, really.

But I'm worried about you, Rob - you aren't the same as when we were 'on the road'. And now I think I understand why..... This 'rape' thing... You've got to put it behind you. You've got to move on, get on with your life."

He pressed his face into my chest, and I believe he was trying to stifle a sob. "I will, Steve...."

"Good. And I can help you, you know... You can talk about it to me... . We've been through the same kind of things...."

I could tell he was agreeing with me, and to lighten the atmosphere a bit, as it was pretty intense, I whispered "But you know you'd better slide off my dick - I can feel that warm asshole pressed against it, and if you carry on exciting it like that, I can't answer for the consequences.... I'd love to have your warm ass wrapped around it, but now's not the right time, not until you've forgotten all those soldiers...."

He moved his head down and nipped my left tit lightly, causing me to squirm as I always did as my nips are so sensitive. "What? You fuck me? Now? No way - look, all I'd have to do is get my teeth on your tit, and you'd be helpless...."

We both laughed then, and moved a bit apart, and then together again in that easy way that men who are familiar with each others bodies can. And as he moved against me I could feel his dick was stiff again, and my wood had never gone away, as I've told you.

"So, Rob.... No fucking..... But a couple of guys like us, in bed together, me with a wood that's actually painful, and I reckon yours is, too.....?"

He nipped my tit again, before I could stop him, and I shouted out with the surprise as that oddly painful tickling sensation shot through me. Then I had to "punish " him, so I rolled him over on to his belly, crushing his erection into the sheets, and threw my body on top of his - well, not completely of course as

I didn't want to stop him from breathing him - I look some of my weight on my elbows. But he was wriggling sensuously under me, exciting and enflaming me, and I wriggled forward a bit so his butt was under my groin, and kind of "mock fucked" him a bit, letting him feel my pubes and dick against his flesh, and all the time gently biting his shoulders where they joined hi neck, and "tongue fucking " his ears - which excited him so much that he was joining in my mock fucking of him by thrusting his butt into me as I let my cock slide over it.

Finally I could stand it no longer, and I gave a kind of long, low cry and my dick began to jerk convulsively and pump cum in-between our bodies. I had to stop then, as my dick is so sensitive wren I've cum, but Rob knew this and carried on moving under me, causing me to cry out with the sheer exquisite pleasure of it.

Well I couldn't let him get away with that, could I? I rolled off him, flipped him over onto his back (who cares that the sheets would then be all slimed with my cum as it was scraped off from his back - it was slaves who did all the changing and laundering of the bed linen, after all) - and began to stroke his dick:

I was really rough, gripping it tight and showing no mercy as he called out that it was hurting. And then I started to "polish his knob", as the English say, rubbing the palm of one hand in hard, circular motions over his dick head as I gripped the shaft really hard with the other. He was crying out, begging me to stop, but I knew he wasn't serious. And then my "polishing" got easier as masses of pre-cum came out to lubricate my palm, and his body arched upwards as if he was trying to give his dick to me..... I stopped the "polishing" and gave him a couple of ordinary handshakes, and he let out a great cry as a jet of cum squirted out of him, high into the air as it does from young guys.

We collapsed back then in each others arms, as two guys do who've just had the most amazing jerk off session with each other, and we were both laughing, laughing loudly. I pulled him towards me again, wrapping my arm around his body, then half turning him to face me.

"See, Rob... Sex with a guy can be fun....."

He grinned at me. "I know, Steve.... I could see you were enjoying it...."

"Oh come on, Rob, you were too..."

"Sometimes you don't understand me when I'm joking, do you.... Of course I enjoyed it, Steve. Who wouldn't, with a guy like you?"

He smiled again, and went to bite at my nip again, and we both carried on laughing as I grabbed his head and pushed it away.

I reckon we could have stayed in bed all morning, but Rob pointed out that his father was a stickler for having "family" meal times and that he had to go down to breakfast. So we showered together, and as I ran my soapy hands over his body, and he did the same with his over mine, I remembered how close we were when we'd been "on the road", and I did wonder whether we could ever be so close again, given our very different circumstances.

In the breakfast room Rob tried to get me some cereal and some bacon and stuff like that, and got a severe admonishment from his father for doing so. "I've told you", my owner almost snapped, "...that I'm not altogether keen on having this slave in here at all. And I certainly won't have him fed scraps, like some pet dog...."

"But dad, Steve's hungry...."

"So feed him before you come in to breakfast. Or let him starve a bit - I'm told it's fashionable for slaves' ribs to be showing....."

"Dad, I can't do that!"

"Why not, Rob? He's a slave, an unruly slave.... And perhaps if he's hungry, really hungry, he'll begin to learn that he relies on his owners and that rebellion does not pay."

I was beginning to understand why Rob couldn't tell his father the truth now - if he told him about our life on the road, the question would inevitably arise as to how we got separated, and then Rob would have to tell his father about the rape. Still, it made for a very uncomfortable situation, and I wondered if the best thing for every one concerned might not be or me to tell my owner - after all, I could get a lot of the story out before he managed to get guards in and have me clubbed to the floor! But then I thought it wouldn't be fair to Rob - I thought he did intend to tell his father, when the moment was right, and perhaps I ought to let things work out for themselves.

Relationships between guys of his age and their fathers are difficult enough as it is, and I didn't want to really fuck things up. So I shut up and just stood there against the wall, feeling rather dejected and left out.

My owner was talking to Rob though and to my horror I heard him say "I know I gave Steve to you, Rob, but there are some outstanding things, obligations, almost, that I have with him. This afternoon, you're not doing anything with him, are you?" Seeing Rob's shake of the head he went on "Good. Because Parson Fields is coming over with one of his bitches and I said that Steve would stud her - the Parson hasn't got a lot of money and can't afford a stud fee from a normal stud place, so I said I'd help him out."

"You're always telling me, dad, that you don't believe in all this church rubbish...."

"I don't, of course. But the Parson is a good man, if very misguided, and it never helps to be seen to be doing good in the community. I understand this bitch he has is pretty near the end of her pub-bearing years and he's keen to get one more litter out of her before she's really totally too old."

"Dad, we can't get Steve to fuck some really old, shrivelled-up nigga bitch..."

"Why ever not? Once that cock of his is hard and we've put him into her, nature generally takes over and a stud like Steve can't stop himself. It's part of being a slave - they're just like animals, really - point their cocks at a hole, and their animal nature takes over and they pump away."

"But dad, I don't like the idea.... He's really my slave, and I don't like the thought of him fucking some vile old nigga bitch....."

"As I explained, Rob, this is an outstanding obligation from before I decided to give Steve to you.

You don't want me to be seen to renege on a promise, do you? That's hardly the mark of a gentleman....."

"Well having to fuck some nigga bitch is hardly the mark of any sort of man, dad! Look...!"

His father cut him off rather abruptly. "Rob, I will not have this senseless argument. Of course a man should not have to fuck where he does not want to, but that's what makes Steve different from us: we're men, and he's a slave. A slave does as his owner instructs him."

I listened with horror to all of this. I mean, I didn't mind studding nice young bitches, but by the sound of it what I was going to have to do that afternoon was going to be pretty unpleasant.

"Dad, you could fulfil your obligation to Parson Fields by getting one of the other niggas to do it - we've got a lot of them out on the farm. We don't need to give him Steve...."

"We do, Rob! Parson Fields particularly wants a lighter-coloured pup from her, as they're worth more when you come to sell it. All the slaves in the fields are all proper niggas, and it just won't do."

"But dad...."

"Rob, I've said all I'm going to say on this subject. It's not as if this will hurt or damage Steve in any way - give him an hour or so to recover after the studding, and his body will have replaced all his fluids...."

"But what about his mind, dad? Making a guy have sex against his will.... It's wrong!"

"And I've told you, Rob, that is self-evidently true. But Steve isn't a man, he's a slave." My owner got to his feet, and before Rob could say any more, began to leave the room. At the door he turned and said "Make sure he's down at the barn by three. It would be impolite to keep our guests waiting".

As the door shut, Rob turned to me, and muttered "Steve, I'm sorry.... I tried...."

I simply stood there, not knowing what to say. He continued "My father's wrong - you shouldn't make a man have sex against his will, whether he's a free man or a slave."

I still stood there, silent, and he stuttered on "I know it, Steve. The way those soldiers raped me... It's not right!"

"I doubt it will be that bad, Rob - by the sound of it, this nigga bitch is pretty experienced. I won't be the first slave to have studded her. And she might even enjoy it...."

"It's you I'm thinking about, Steve! Being made to perform like that. With a woman you don't know, and who's a lot older than you...."

"I suppose it's no worse than hiring a prostitute, as they used to in the old days. A lot of them were pretty old, so the stories tell us. Don't worry about it - and if you're bothered, don't come and watch."

"Watch?"

"Sure. When I've studded before, your father or one of the overseers, and the bitch's owner, all come along to watch. It's part of the process - it reminds everyone that it's just two animals mating, as goes on elsewhere on the demesne, not two humans doing something intimate, privately."

Rob sat there and put his head in his hands, resting his elbows on the dining table. "I wish I could do something about this, Steve.... I really do. But I can't argue any more with dad...."

"Well you could tell him about our time on the road.... Then he might be grateful.... And start treating me decently again, as he used to...."

"I can't do that, Steve.... Not yet....."

"Oh come on, Rob, of course you can."

"But then I'd have to tell him I was raped."

"So tell him!"

"I can't, Steve. Not yet....."

"So you can't tell your dad about something that's in the past, so I have to endure the equivalent of rape in the present - that's what it is, you know: making a guy fuck someone is the equivalent of rape...."

Rob got to his feet, and ran out of the room, and I think I heard a big kind of sob as he did so. I stood there for a few moments, then went over to the buffet and stuffed ten slices of bacon between two huge pancakes, drenched them in maple syrup, and wolfed the whole thing down before anyone came!

I didn't see Rob for the rest of the morning, so I exercised a bit, then went over to the pool, and, seeing no one was looking, did thirty fast lengths (I wasn't usually allowed in the pool as it was considered that slaves "soiled" the water), and then lay and spread my body out to enjoy the sun. Look, I hated the thought of having to fuck some vile old woman, but I'd been a slave long enough to know that I had no choice: short of running away, there was no way I could avoid studding the bitch that afternoon. I could struggle and fight, and all they'd do is whip me then chain me up. So what was the point? I might as well go along with it and get it over with - after all, it's a few minutes at the most.

I jogged over to the barn that afternoon, and there was still no sign of Rob. One of the overseers saw me and grinned broadly. "Come on, Steve! This one will be a tough one for you, but we'll help. And it's always fun to watch you in action, although I have to say I'd prefer to see a nice young virgin squirming away under you as you fuck her.... Still, come on, let's get you ready...."

"Look, sir, it's OK. I know what I've got to do.... We don't need all the stuff...."

"Sorry, Steve! It's your owner's orders - he phoned over and said he wants it done 'traditionally' as he reckons you might go rogue again."

I shrugged, as I suppose I'd got used to the idea by now that my owner simply didn't trust me, and, on the overseer's command, knelt in front of him so he could fit the traditional "studding collar" around my neck and fasten my wrists behind into it. When he offered up the combined gag and bit, though, I muttered "Sir, please.... Is that necessary....?"

"Sorry, Steve, but it's the owner's orders. He doesn't want to risk you biting anyone - not that I reckon you'd fancy the bitch and want to! Still, it will keep you quiet too, eh? And I suppose he doesn't want a rebel like you saying anything that will upset his guests."

I opened my mouth and he slipped the hard metal in, and I tasted that sharp metallic taste of steel. He fastened the straps behind my head, and I was effectively silenced as I could form no intelligible speech with the plate pressing my tongue down and the ends of the bit protruding from the sides of my mouth.

"Right, boy, get ready.....", he muttered, and took a small plastic thing out of his pocket, put it between my open lips - I couldn't stop him, of course - and pressed a button on the end. I almost choked as a tablet hit the back of my throat, and he quickly gripped my head between his thighs as I knelt there, and massaged my throat. My eyes were streaming from where my gag reflexes had been triggered, and I struggled involuntarily as you do in the circumstances - but, kneeling and cuffed, my head wedged between his strong thighs, there was nothing I could do. I felt completely and utterly powerless, and hated it.

"Easy, boy, easy.....", he said quietly. "I should have warned you. We use this on the horses, when they have to take a pill - it fires it at the back of their throats, as otherwise they don't swallow it. The master suggested we use it on you, as he reckoned you wouldn't want to take one of these pills - they're some sort of super Viagara, specially intended for stud slaves, guaranteed to make you hard and keep you hard all afternoon...."

I tried to say "I don't need stuff like that...", but of course nothing intelligible came out, and the overseer continued "I've seen you in action before, but I reckon they're doing you a kindness giving you this pill this afternoon - a young slave like you, and that fat old bitch.... You'll need something to get it up, and keep it up."

He let me get to my feet then and I stood there for a few minutes, then the overseer said, not unkindly, "Why don't you go and sit in the shade? We've got about half an hour to let that pill kick in, and there's no point standing around, getting all hot...."

I nodded - that's all I could do - and went and sat on a bench outside in the shadow. And I wish I hadn't, as whilst I was sitting there Parson Fields' beaten up old car drove up and he got out, followed by this enormous fat old nigga bitch - you could hardly see her slave collar as it was almost covered in the rolls of fat on her neck! You could tell he was almost penniless, of course, as he had to use an old, non-ecological gas burner like that - decent folk around us at that time used ponies, or, generally, if they could afford them, pony slaves. I looked in horror at the bitch as she waddled behind her owner into the barn, and I reckoned it was a good job that they had given me that pill - there was absolutely no way that I could get an erection faced with that mountain of lard. But as I've told you, I knew there was no avoiding it so I simply sat there until the overseer came out.

"Here, Steve: your owner wants you blindfolded like they used to in the old days", he said, sounding a bit embarrassed by it. "He says you're less likely to rebel if you can't see. Actually, I reckon he might be doing a kindness, really, as you won't have to see the bitch....."

He gestured, and I knelt in front of him again so that he could fasten the soft, cloying fabric around my eyes, then, on his command stood up, and he grabbed my left biceps and led me into the barn.

I could tell at once that quite a crowd was there - my owner was of course talking to what I assumed must be Parson Fields, but as was usual there were a number of others - some of the overseers and guards enjoyed seeing a good fucking, as they said it saved them renting porn DVDs, and some of the house slaves and other "trustees" were want to sneak in, too. I was halted, and then felt my shorts being opened and pushed down, and I was moved forward to step out of them as they bunched on the barn floor, and guided forward a few more paces.

It was my owner's voice , calmly and quietly saying "So, my good sir, here he is! A fine looking brute, isn't he?"

"Oh yes, excellent! You are indeed fortunate that God has smiled on you and given you the good fortune to be able to afford such a magnificent piece of slave flesh. So tall, so muscular, and such a delightful colour.... I do think a whitey, when he's well tanned as this one so clearly is, is so much more attractive than a quadroon, or even an octoroon. There's something different about the skin texture, and the way it colours up...."

"Quite so, Parson."

"...but is it not a little worrying that the instrument that the good Lord has given him to fulfil the purposes of us His humble subjects is not.... Is not, shall I say, ready?"

My owner spoke again, and gave an order to the overseer, and I felt his hand grip my dick and begin to stroke it. I shied away from him, but he'd got his other hand pressed into the flat of my back - not enough to really stop me running away, but the subtle psychological pressure it exerted caused me to stop. "That's right, boy....", he whispered. "I'll just get you hard, then I'll take you over to the bitch...."

Well, when a guy's stroking your dick, however much you might not want to, you can't help going hard, can you? Especially not when there's all that chemical raging around inside you - I felt unnaturally hot and flushed, which is what that sort of stuff does to you.

"Do you want the pleasure of inserting him?", I heard my owner ask, and I suppose the parson must have shaken his head as my owner said in a different tone to the overseer "Take him over and get him started."

"Yes, sir!", the overseer replied, and now using my rock-hard dick as a kind of handle, he led me for a few paces across the barn.

"Right, Steve - shuffle forward, will you", he said quietly, and, as I did so, I felt the tip of my dick touch her skin. I really do wish I hadn't seen her, as the sensation felt OK. But the thought of that mound of lard lying there waiting for me was too much, and I went to pull away.

"East, Steve!", the overseer whispered so the others could not hear. "Easy, boy. Come on, you can do it - you've done it before. And it will soon be over. Now, forward...." With that he gave my butt a sharp tap with a cane - something that was totally unexpected as I couldn't see it coming - and I shot forward in to her.

He had to stand behind me for the first few strokes, his hot, sweaty hands on my hips as he pushed me backwards and forwards in and out of her - well, not pushed me, exactly, as I could have resisted with the strength I have... More like "guided" me, and I suppose I went along with it as I didn't know whether he was holding the cane, or even a prod, to make me react. But after that - well, you know how it is: even the oldest, slackest cunt can grip you and give you a bit of a thrill and, frankly, my reflexes took over and soon I was fucking her like a jack hammer. It didn't take me all that long to cum, actually, but once I had I was careful not to fall forward on to her as I usually did to a bitch - I really didn't fancy feeling her flesh! And, of course, the overseer made me wait there with my dick inside her for a few minutes, as they always reckon it gives my little "swimmers" more of a chance, and that wasn't all that pleasant as her rather rank smell came to me as I stood there feeling slightly foolish, knowing that a lot of other men were watching me as my dick gradually softened.

When I was finally allowed to pull out of her the overseer went to undo my blindfold, but I whispered to him "Please, no". The sight of the bitch in her slave smock had been bad enough, and I thought that if I had to look at what I'd just been forced to fuck lying there naked, I'd probably throw up, or have bad dreams for weeks, or both! So I heard, rather than saw, my owner come over and say briskly to the overseer "Clean him up well - scrub him down and get all traces of the bitch off him and get rid of the sweat - I see his exertions have made him very hot. Then bring him over to the house - but keep him in his studding gear."

"With the gag and bit, sir?"

"Yes, I think so."

With that my owner walked off and I could hear him and the Pastor discussing my performance, just as if I was some sort of animal rather than a human being. Although the pastor was keen to point out that "God loves all his creatures, even slaves, and delights when they serve their owners properly just as we serve Him."

The overseer took me off to another part of the barn where there was a shower for slave use, and seemed to enjoy cleaning me up - well, I reckon he did, given the amount of effort he put into soaping his hands and then running them all over me, and right down my ass crack, too. And he certainly didn't fail to obey my owner's instructions to make sure my dick and pubes were really clean - I thought he was never going to stop stroking them, and, indeed, with the chemicals still surging through me I was really hard and I think he liked that. Like a lot of married men (I could see his ring on his finger) I think he secretly enjoyed this opportunity to play with another guy's dick - even though he was an overseer, he didn't get to do it very often as it was usually a slave who cleaned up other slaves.

He then took me over to the house - and it would have been easy for him to have guided me by the elbow, or even by taking a grip on my biceps, as he had when I was first blindfolded. But instead he chose to lead me using my hard dick as a handle, with the consequence that by the time he'd led me up the rear stairs and left me in my owner's workroom, my dick was positively aching from being so hard, and there was a big bead of pre-cum hanging out of my piss slit.

I wondered if I should sit down and did not at first do so, but after standing there for over half an hour I thought what the fuck, and slumped down onto the big leather couch - it felt cool and sensuous against my bare skin, and, to tell you the truth, I dozed off to sleep! So I didn't leap to my feet when my owner eventually did come in, and that really pissed him off

• in fact he woke me up by striking me across my pecs with a thin punishment cane, and that made me yell as those of you who've been struck there will know that it really hurts your tits. I couldn't scream, though, with the fucking gag in my mouth, and couldn't rub to aching tits to give them some relief as I was still cuffed, so I had to stand there, shifting my weight uneasily from foot to foot as my owner glared at me.

"You fucking rebel!" he started. "How dare you sit down on my couch. Look, your vile sweat has made the leather damp. There was a time when I enjoyed working out with you and you were a good, pleasant obedient kind of slave, and you'd never have dreamed of sitting without permission, especially when you're stark naked!"

I wanted to say "And whose problem is it, really? Who had me put in here and just forgot about me? Who makes me go around nude? Who had stuff given to me that has made me sweat so much that it's left a mark on your couch?", but of course nothing came out through the gag.

"I made a mistake", he continued. "All those years when I treated you well, only to have you rebel. I thought of you as a companion, someone to work out with and run with.... And all the time you were harbouring rebellion, and were not really obedient, but deceitful. All those years.... When I could have been making even better use of your body."

He seemed to get calmer then and went on more quietly "But this afternoon I realised what I had been missing. Seeing you in action as you studded gave me the most amazing view of that butt of yours: the hard, firm deeply-clefted butt itself, and those long, muscular thighs of yours. It was thrilling to see how the skin and muscle moved as you fucked away like an animal, and I was really very aroused - and if you could have seen her you would know that it was not the bitch that was causing it!"

"Then it occurred to me that I could perhaps kill two birds with one stone, as the old saying goes: I could perhaps give myself some real enjoyment and pleasure, and at the same time remind you of your true position in the world - a slave, someone who I own totally, and can do with as I choose. So I have decided to fuck you, Steve, and fuck you hard: I remember when I took your cherry when you first came here, and I did enjoy it then but decided to leave you alone after that as I wanted you to function well as a personal trainer. But seeing that butt of yours today made me realise how exciting it would be to experience it again.... And perhaps again and again. And as I take you, use you for my pleasure, you will be constantly reminded that you are a slave, here to serve my will, and for no other reason."

"No!", I tried to cry, but the fucking gag stopped me.

"I see you are agitated! Come now, it can't be all that dreadful, taking my dick rather than young master Rob's."

I shook my head vigorously, trying to indicate that Rob didn't fuck me, but he went on "Yes, Steve - I expect Rob is too gentle with you, in spite of this tough image he portrays. But I will not make that mistake: I will take you hard, very hard, and I have a way of making sure you truly will remember my dick."

With that he rang a small hand bell on the table, and one of the servant slaves instantly appeared. "Fetch the new apparatus", he snapped. "And be quick about it, unless you want a session in it yourself!"

"Yes, Steve", he went on, as he moved close to me and ran his hand proprietorially over my butt. "Hard, very hard. A big tough guy like you probably does not really know what a dick plunged into him for its full length is really like: even though I am above average as far as dick size is concerned, when I last fucked you not a whole lot of it penetrated you as you have such magnificent butt muscles. It's almost as if you have some nigga blood in you, the way your butt is carried so high, and is so deliciously round. And a dick has to navigate all that depth before it can enjoy your hole. But I saw this new apparatus in 'Modern Slave Owner' and it claims to be ideal for use with slaves like you. Well, we shall see!"

End Of Part Thirteen