Young Stud

YOUNG STUD

By Pete Brown petebrownuk @ yahoo.com

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

Part Five

For the next couple of days "work" was relatively normal. It's surprising, I suppose, how quickly I got to regard it as a "job", albeit one that I enjoyed, actually, and, thinking about it, was very good at! I came to understand that except for rare examples like the factory and Coon, most of the boss's "clients" were friends, or, at least, acquaintances. They were almost all wealthy (well, they had to be, I suppose, to own one or more slave bitches in the first place), and the attraction to them was to be able to enjoy a sex show without having to drive into the nearest large town and go to some seedy club or other: they mostly packed their wives off to Dallas or Miami or Phoenix or somewhere for a shopping trip, and then had a sex show brought to their door. Getting the bitches pregnant was sometimes important, but mostly they wanted to see a real show, with Jeff, or me, or the two of us together, really giving it to the bitches.

The boss remained mostly calm throughout, or perhaps "amused" might be the right word as he saw the other guy - or guys, as it often happened that a small "party" had been put together - watching us and rubbing their crotches in frustration that we were doing what they clearly wanted to do themselves but which etiquette, or fear of divorce, prevented them from doing. As wealthy men they'd not want to risk the wrath of their wives and the subsequent financial mayhem in the divorce courts.

I had wondered what the boss did for sex, and supposed that he jerked off when he was in the bathroom alone - we never saw him go for any of the bitches himself, or even join in a jerk-off session that sometimes accompanied the "performances" that Jeff and I gave. For myself, it got easier and easier - I relaxed, realised that the men watching were actually envious of me for my youth, and for my body which was so beautifully formed and well proportioned - unlike most of theirs! And I really got to like Jeff - he was always so calm, so amusing, and just a great guy to be with: although I suppose that if we had not been slaves together, it would have been unlikely that we'd have met, or, indeed, that if we had, that we'd have hit it off. I was a college boy, son of relatively wealthy parents, and he was, at best, a labourer. And the age difference too would have kept us apart - me with my college buddies in coffee shops and the occasional bar, talking about music and videos and stuff, and him in "hard" bars after a day's work, drinking with his buddies and talking sex. But as it was it was really great to have this big, friendly, totally likeable guy lying beside me in bed, a guy who liked sex, and who was so unembarrassed by his body that he thought it "natural" to lie close to me, to wrap his arms around me, and to whisper little comments and jokes about the day's happenings when the boss had drifted off to sleep. This was how guys were meant to be, I thought, and I wished that I'd been this close to any of my so-called "buddies" at school or college. He in turn told me how great it as to have someone who was a bit like a younger brother, and he kept reminding me about how lucky we were to have the boss as our owner as things could be a lot worse for both of us.

It was after a particularly good day - a day when I'd had my first virgin, that things started to go wrong.

It began so well: this owner had a couple of young niggas both aged sixteen and the time had come to deflower them. Jeff took one first, and I watched as he did the "Jeff thing", kissing and stroking the terrified girl to begin with, then smiling all the time as he made soothing noises and got her in position, and then thrust home. He was so gentle once he'd broken through her hymen, and although the bitch had screamed and cried a bit, she looked really happy once it was all over. I'd followed his example and did much the same, and as we drove away the boss had even congratulated me about the mature way I'd done it. "A lot of nineteen year olds would have panicked when they learned they'd got a virgin", he told me. "Then they'd have been so excited at the thought that they'd have gone in so hard that they'd have damaged her. And it was really good afterwards when, without having to be told, you came and showed the client the blood all over your dick, just as Jeff had done."

I was kind of glowing with this praise, and at the motel the boss had persuaded them that we could use the pool, and that was great, too, as I beat Jeff again. And at dinner we'd been allowed an icecream after our huge steaks. All in all, as I lay in bed with Jeff, I felt totally at peace with the world.

The boss had had a few glasses of wine, though, and when he came out of the bathroom in his T and boxer shorts, he lay flat on his back and muttered "A good day, boys. You've made me really horny.... Jeff, get over here!"

Jeff slid his body over mine - I kind of liked the way he did that sometimes, crawling over me rather than going around the bed. I got a lot of nice contact with his skin as it slid over mine, and a chance to see his muscles in action really close to. He knelt by the side of the boss's bed, then as I watched in total amazement, reached into the boss's boxers and got his dick out! The next moment Jeff was kissing the boss's dick head, then he began to suck at it, moving his lips sensuously up and down the first centimetre or two of the shaft, brushing the head with a gentle caress on each stroke as he did so. I could hardly believe it - I mean, up until now the boss had seemed uninterested in anything queer like this! And I had thought Jeff was a proper man, and would never want to suck another guy's cock.

After a few moments the boss called out "Another lesson for you, Steve.... Get over here...."

I moved across the room as if in a daze, and the boss told me to kneel on the other side of the bed so that I could get a good view of what Jeff was doing. I knelt there, watching Jeff sucking away at the boss with such evident relish that I could hardly believe it was happening. Then the boss reached down and pushed Jeff's head away, and said calmly to me "OK, Steve - you've seen Jeff at work, now you have a go."

I stared at the boss's dick sticking up vertically from the fly of his boxers, his greying pubes peeping through. The end was all wet and slimy with Jeff's spit, and I knew I couldn't do it. I stammered "Please, boss, no.... Let Jeff finish....."

"Steve, get on to my cock. Get on to it now, if you don't want to be punished...."

I could see Jeff staring at me, his eyes pleading with me to obey the boss. But I couldn't - not even when Jeff whispered "Come on, Steve.... Look, I'll show you again.....", and bent forward to take the boss's dick in his mouth again.

The boss slapped at his head angrily, saying "Keep out of it, Jeff!", and then to me he went on "You are indeed going to suck my cock, Steve. So are you going to do right now, as a slave should, when his owner orders him to? Or are we going to have to go through a lot of boring punishment before you realise that when I give you an order, you obey?"

"Boss, please... If you're horny, Jeff has said he'll do it...."

"Yes, boss", Jeff added, "I know the way you like it.... Let me finish you off...."

The boss sat up, and tucked his dick away into his boxers. "Right, Steve", he snapped. "The time has come to show you what happens to slaves who disobey. Lie on your belly on the bed, with your feet on the floor."

I shuffled forward and did as he said, as the boss told Jeff to "Fetch the punishment cane from the SUV -

the very thin one that really stings."

Jeff went to pull on his shorts, and the boss snapped "Can't you obey even a simple order? Did I tell you to dress? Just go out to the SUV and get the cane!"

I watched as Jeff walked across the room naked, his dick bobbing up and down, then went out of the room for the long walk to the parking lot. It wasn't that he was ashamed of being naked, rather that it was so humiliating to have a guy like that having to go out across the parking lot without a stitch of clothes on.

Jeff might be a slave, but he was a white guy, and it's not right to make a guy appear in public like that, is it?

He soon came back with the cane, and handed it to the boss. "No, Jeff.... You're stronger than me, and I think Steve respects you. So if you administer the punishment it's better - eight strokes, four on each butt cheek."

"Please sir...." Jeff began hesitatingly. "Eight's a lot, sir.... I'm sure Steve will learn the lesson with only...."

"Silence!" The boss roared. "I'm tired of hearing this! Ever since Steve arrived you've not been the obedient, respectful slave you used to be. I will not have dissension and argument from a slave. Eight strokes, as I said, and I want at least half of them to be hard enough to produce blood!"

Jeff came round to where I was lying and I felt the pressure of one of his hands in the small of my back, as if he was holding me down symbolically. "I'm sorry Steve", he whispered, and then I heard the "swish" of the cane, before my world exploded into pain.

Look, I'd never been hurt before - I wasn't one to fight other guys, and I did track and field, rather than football. So I wasn't used to the idea that one man might physically hurt another - and especially not coldly and deliberately like this. And hurt it did: those of you who have received a caning will know that it's an insidious punishment - first there's the terrible acid stinging as the cane first bites into your muscles. That's enough to cause you to scream in agony (as I did). And then as that starts to decay, you get the terrible lingering aching dull pain of the bruised and battered muscles all complaining. Just as you think that couldn't get any worse, the second stroke comes, and it starts all over again.

Jeff struck me four times, and I was now lying there whimpering and mewling in-between each blow, so much was I hurting. Then I heard him say "Please, boss, no more... I'm sure Steve has learned his lesson...."

"I said eight, Jeff!"

"But boss, look at his butt - those stripes... Please don't make me hit him again."

"You fucking slave! It's worse than I thought! You're arguing with me, Jeff, like you used never to do. And disobeying me. Well you can stop for the time being, as I think it's time you were reminded of what happens when you disobey me! Go out and fetch the slipper."

Jeff didn't even attempt to pull his shorts on this time, but went out to the SUV, and the boss gave me a little lecture. "You see, Steve, what happens when you disobey? Not only do you get hurt, but really good men like Jeff get hurt too. He's very loyal and a good friend, as you probably know - but he's not as bright as you are, Steve, and you should have known that you'd get him into trouble by your actions. So now I hope you feel bad about what's going to happen to Jeff - he's been punished before, so this punishment really has to be severe if it's to make an impression on him. And all of this could have been avoided if you'd simply done as you were ordered - there's nothing wrong in sucking a man's cock, after all, and I cannot allow this wilfulness to go unpunished. You can consider the pain Jeff is about to experience as part of your punishment, Steve, and I hope you find some way of making it up to Jeff."

When the boss had said "slipper", I'd kind of imagined the sort of thing that old folks wear, the sort of thing you see cartoon characters taking off and using to chastise an unruly child. But when he came in Jeff handed the boss a thick yet flexible leather strap about a foot long, with a handle at one end. The boss swished it through the air once or twice and I could see how the flexible leather could really hurt when it was brought down onto bare skin. And it looked as if it was heavy, so with any momentum behind it there's be real pain when it made contact.

"Right, Jeff - you know the form. It's a long time since I had to slipper you - and I'm surprised that you've forgotten the pain. And this time I'm going to go on until I'm tired, and not just give you the twenty strokes you had last time. I want you really to remember this, and if it wasn't for the fact that tomorrow's client has specifically asked for you, it would be the cane and not the slipper - but we can hardly turn up to stud with a slave with his butt criss-crossed with welts, can we? What would that say about that slave's attitude?"

As I watched, Jeff went and lay on his belly on the bed, just as I was, and spread his feet out on the floor. The boss got up from where he was still lying and sat astride Jeff's back, settling himself jus above Jeff's waist, facing Jeff's butt. I watched in fascinated horror as the boss first stroked Jeff's butt, as if judging the target, then raised the slipper and brought it crashing down onto Jeff's bare skin. The "slap" noise as the heavy, flexible leather hit Jeff's bare butt sounded like a pistol shot in the room.

I could see Jeff's face contorting as the first blows struck, and his hands began to frantically scrabble at the bedclothes. With the boss astride him even a strong guy like Jeff could not move far, though, and soon he was burying his face in the bedclothes to try to stifle his cries as the blows continued to rain down. Of course I now know that this stuff is kind of "additive" - even gentle blows hitting the same place often enough start to really hurt, and these were not gentle blows: soon even Jeff was forced to start crying out loud as the boss continued his beating of Jeff's butt, and I could see Jeff's legs frantically moving form side to side, and in and out, in a futile effort to try to alter the site where the blows were landing.

I really don't know how long the boss went on for, or how many times the slipper crashed into Jeff's butt, but I suspect that the boss really did do as he had said, and went on hitting Jeff until he was exhausted.

The boss got off Jeff then, and Jeff continued to lie there, his face buried in the bed. His shouts and cries of agony had long since turned into a low, terrible moan, and his legs were twitching feebly, his feet scrabbling around as if that would bring some relief to him.

The boss said quietly to me "Go and feel Jeff's butt. Yours is painful after four cane strokes, but I can assure you he is feeling far worse. Run your hands over his cheeks and feel the heat radiating from them - and then think on, that this is all your fault."

I went and stood behind Jeff, and touched his butt as lightly as I could with the tips of my fingers. It was fiery hot, and very red, and Jeff's moaning changed note even with this lightest of touches from me. I heard the boss say "By tomorrow that will all be bruising, but it will be even, all over, and so the client will think it's just Jeff's natural coloration."

"Now, Steve", he went on, "Are you ashamed at the suffering you've brought on Jeff?"

I nodded, so totally choked up I couldn't speak. The pain from my own butt must surely be insignificant compared to what Jeff was suffering. And I knew the boss was right - Jeff was a great guy, but not always very bright, and in his desire to do the best for me, he'd rush on and anger the boss: it really was my fault he'd been hurt.

The boss continued quietly, now showing his control. "Right, then, Steve. Earlier, before we diverted for these little punishments, I told you to suck my cock. Come over here, boy, and kneel down in front of me, and take up where you left off."

In spite of my guilty thoughts I still couldn't do it, and I shook my head dumbly. In response, the boss picked up the cane and simply lashed out at Jeff's butt as he still lay there. I couldn't bear to hear the scream that Jeff made, and the way he continued to sob afterwards: I knew how the cane had hurt me, and I could only imagine how very, very much worse it must be for Jeff after his slippering. I fell to my knees in front of the boss. His hands ruffled my hair, and he said calmly "That's a good boy, Steve! You don't want to hurt Jeff, do you, as that's what will happen if you keep disobeying me. Now, get my cock out, and show me how well you've learned already to give me pleasure."

I reached into the boss's boxers, and as I leaned close to him I got that amazing scent of fresh soap from his body overlain with a faint whiff of dried piss from the fabric of his boxers, and then that "something", that special smell of a man's crotch. I suppose it was the first time I'd really smelled it, and it was at once both terrifying and exotic.

"Kiss it, Steve. Tease me into life", the boss whispered, reinforcing these commands by holding my head close to him as I knelt there. His dick was flopping against the front of his boxers, but as I bent forward in fascinated horror, pursed my lips and touched them to his cock head. (he was circumcised, as I guess most guys his age were as he belonged to that generation where this was a routine thing done to all new-born males). His cock gave a little twitch and began to inflate with blood, and the boss's hands moved my head up and down as he continued to give me instructions... "That's a good boy.. Kiss it again, Steve... Worship your owner's cock, Steve.... Now I want to feel your tongue massaging the head... Now the shaft..... Good boy, Steve.....!

He was fully erect by now, or what passes for it in an older guy as his cock head was not exactly "reaching for the sky" as mine did, rising well up towards my navel. No, his cock was rigid, but still kind of drooping down. "Right, Steve", he intoned, "Now be a good boy, and pleasure me properly. Suck my cock, boy, take your owner's cock right down your throat and pleasure me...."

I began to gag and choke as the boss's hands pushed my head down onto his cock, and in an effort to steady myself I wrapped my arms around him, feeling his butt in my hands. My nose was assailed now by the scent of him, and I found myself sucking greedily at his cock - not so much because I wanted to, but because as my lips and tongue teased the head, he was less inclined to force more of it into me. He began thrusting at me - I could feel his butt tensing as he moved forward and back, and then he gave a moan, and cried "Oh yes....."

My mouth filled with a salty taste, and at first I didn't realise what had happened, until it occurred to me, to my horror, that he must have shot his load into my mouth. The boss was swaying slightly on his feet now and his hands let go of my head. I pulled away from him, still kneeling there, and saw the remains of his cum start to dribble from his cock. I felt almost nauseous as my tongue rolled the slimy mess of his cum around my mouth.

Without hesitating the boss grabbed my hair again and pulled my face back into his crotch, so my cheeks rubbed against his cock, and my nose filled with that oh so familiar ammoniacal scent as the remains of his semen rubbed off on to me. "Good boy, Steve! There now, that wasn't so bad, was it? Now if you'd been a good boy and done as you were told, all this hurt and anger could have been avoided.", he chided me almost gently.

I still knelt there, sweating, and analysing the strange taste in my mouth. Well, not a taste, really - more a viscous sort of sliminess that filled me totally. I hung my head in shame - not just because I knew it wasn't right to have to pleasure the boss like this, but because what he'd said was true: I could have avoided having Jeff hurt if my own silly pride had not prevented me from obeying the boss's orders. I had, after all, now done what he'd ordered in the first place, so what exactly had been the point of it all?

The boss ordered Jeff and me to bed then, and we lay side by side, but on our bellies as our butts were too sore to lie on. After his sex, the boss soon drifted into sleep and we heard him snoring gently. I turned my face towards Jeff's, which was resting on his folded arms, and put an arm across his shoulders.

"Jeff, I'm sorry...."

"It's OK, Steve...."

"No it isn't! I got you punished... . It's not right that the boss beat you like that.... It's my fault, and I wish...."

"Steve, don't talk like that! That way will only lead to more punishment. It is right that the boss beat me - I was arguing with him, trying to get him to change his orders - a slave needs to know where he is with his owner, Steve, and perhaps I'd forgotten it. Perhaps I have been getting a bit 'uppity' recently, and perhaps the boss does need to re-exert his authority... It's better in the long run, Steve, for a slave to obey his owner unquestioningly - that way the slave has no problems at all."

"Jeff, don't talk like that! We're men, Jeff - we have minds of our own...."

"No, Steve. We're slaves. You still haven't learned, have you, buddy, that the rules are different for us? I mean, did you ever fuck in public before? Did you ever go around naked in front of other people? Did you ever lie next to one of your buddies in bed before like this, naked?"

"No..."

"Well there you are, then. Most of those things would be illegal, or wrong, or both, if you were a man. But you've done them as a slave, Steve, and surely it's only a small additional effort to learn to do exactly as the boss says all the time?"

"Jeff, it's not right! A man shouldn't have to be a slave like this.... All this slavery stuff is really evil.... You and I shouldn't be totally under someone else's control - we're men...."

"Well it's too late for that, Steve! You and I are slaves, that's the law, and so we'd better learn to obey the rules."

"But I feel so guilty about getting you punished... You're in real pain, aren't you?"

In the light filtering in to the room I could see a small smile spread over Jeff's face. "Yes, my butt's in agony - but so's yours, I reckon! But I've been beaten before by the boss - and at slave training school: at least you didn't go through that! So don't worry about it, it doesn't matter."

"Jeff, I'm sorry...."

"And I said it didn't matter...." As he said this, to my astonishment Jeff pushed his head towards mine, and planted a gentle kiss on my lips.

For a few moments I was so astonished that I didn't know what to do, how to react. So I did nothing, and then the fleeting touch of Jeff's lips on mine went away. I went to say something to Jeff, but he put a finger to his lips in warning, as we could hear the boss stirring and we knew we shouldn't disturb him. So I lay there, feeling the warmth of Jeff's body against me, and eventually drifted into sleep.

The following morning my butt was still very, very sore. And the boss was clearly still displeased with Jeff and me as when we got to the restaurant for breakfast he told us to remain in the SUV, then came out a few minutes later and threw us a couple of packs of slave chow and a some bottles of water. Jeff and I sat there - well, stood, actually, as it was painful to sit down - and munched away at the hard stuff and drank the cold water in silence. Through the windows we could see the diners tucking in to their meals, and I felt really envious of them; I couldn't help feeling the sheer injustice of being treated like this for doing something that any guy might object to, as, after all, most guys don't have to suck cock, do they?

I said this to Jeff, and he just shrugged. "The boss wasn't punishing you for not sucking his cock, Steve - but for arguing with him and disobeying him...."

"But I was arguing because he wanted me to suck cock - it's disgusting...."

Jeff gave a little shrug, and there was a faint smile on his face. "Oh, I don't know...."

I'd have gone on arguing with him, but at that moment the boss came out of the restaurant, and Jeff at once gathered up the empty cardboard cartons the slave chow had come in (it's so hard and dry they don't even have to spend money on plastic sealed wrapping!) and the empty water bottles, and carried them over to the recycling bins, and swept a few crumbs off the SUV in the hope of pleasing the boss, I suppose.

The boss didn't speak much to us as we drove along, either, but later in the morning I saw Jeff starting to look at first agitated, and then depressed, as we drove along country roads that he evidently recognised. When we turned off through a pair of imposing gates, held open for us by a slave whose duty was clearly only to do this as he was chained to the gateposts and clearly could not move away, I've never seen Jeff look so terrible. The boss noticed this, too, and snapped "Unless you start to look a bit more enthusiastic, I'll give you another slippering! The customer has a right to have you cheerful, as if you really are enjoying it, and unless I see a radical change in your attitude immediately, you will regret it."

"Yes, boss", Jeff replied glumly, but he did seem to try to put his usual cheery face on as we drew up in front of an imposing mansion. "Stay in the car, Steve", the boss said. "The customer has used Jeff before, and has asked for him specifically."

At that moment a woman came to the door, a very elegant woman with silvered hair swept high on her head and wearing slinky kind of clothes that looked as if they cost a lot of money and had been designed to complement her small, slim frame. She threw her arms around the boss in greeting, and then, without any sign of shame whatsoever, took a step towards Jeff and reached down and gripped his dick through his shorts as if testing him in some way. She was laughing and chattering to the boss as they then went up the steps into the mansion, followed by Jeff, who really looked unhappy about the way he'd been greeted.

It was a mild, warm morning and it got hot in the SUV.

My butt was giving me a lot of pain, too, so I got out and decided to stand by the SUV instead. There was the usual kind of activity you'd expect around a big place like that - a couple of delivery trucks came and went to the rear entrance, and there was a pair of nigga gardeners wearing only white loincloths hoeing away in the shrub borders. I'd only been standing there about half an hour, though, when a nigga came down the steps and told me to follow him as the boss wanted me: the slave was wearing only a short tunic, and as he bounded up the steps I could see that it was cut so that his butt was mostly exposed if he made any movement at all.

He led me into a big drawing room furnished mostly with couches in white leather, and bright, modernistic pictures on the walls. The lady who'd met the boss was lounging on one of these couches, and the boss was sitting on another, and in-between them stood Jeff, totally naked. Well, I suppose I'd have expected that, given that he'd been hired to stud.

"So this is the boy I saw through the windows when you arrived!", the woman said to the boss. "Why are you hiding this gorgeous young man away from me?"

The boss smiled as he replied "There you have it! He is only a young man - his twentieth birthday is next week - and I thought he would not be of interest because of that."

"Oh let me be the judge of that! He reminds me a bit of my eldest grandson - he's tall and athletic, too." She turned to me then and said, in the same casual conversational tone, as if it was the most normal thing in the world, "Take those clothes off, boy, and come over here and let me take a closer look at you."

Fuck me! I mean, it's bad enough having to strip naked in front of the male owners of slaves, but I'd kind of got used to that. But being told to do it by someone who herself had said that I reminded her of her grandson was just terrible: all those thoughts I'd had about becoming used to this life simply flew out of the window. I stood there, hesitating slightly, and I heard the boss say "Steve's still really learning the ropes.... I'm sure you'll find Jeff as satisfactory as he ever is...". But when the woman just gave a little silvery laugh, he looked straight at me, and I knew what he wanted me to do.

Ever so reluctantly, and blushing as I did so, I pulled the T up over my head, and heard the woman comment "A nice flat belly there - I like those emerging lines of muscle. I assume you exercise him... If you keep at it, by next year you'll have him with a real six pack, like the older one!"

Well I hated being "observed" like that, and stood there again, fumbling at the fastening of my shorts and kind of hoping she might change her mind. But the boss must be losing his patience, as I head him say "Come on, Steve! Don't keep the client waiting......"

So what could I do? I let my shorts drop to the floor and stepped out of them, and then, almost in an act of bravado, I flicked at my dick to free it from where it was stuck with sweat to my balls.

The woman beckoned to me, and seeing the boss nod, I took a couple of steps over to where she was still lounging on one of the couches. As she reached out for my dick I saw that her finger nails were neat and lacquered a bright red, but at the same time saw the dark splotches of "liver spots" on the back of her hand, a hand that was kind of scrawny, with loose skin. She gripped me firmly, though, clearly used to handling guy's dicks as she stroked me until, in spite of desperately not wanting to, I began to bone up. And then she teased back my 'skin, and I felt myself blushing red with embarrassment as my moist dick head lay there in the palm of her hand.

"Oh what a nice change! I haven't had an uncut man since my third husband died!", the crone exclaimed.

"You asked for Jeff though", the boss added.

"Ah yes, but I've changed my mind now I've seen this completely delightful boy you have. How on earth did you ever manage to acquire him? I know that getting white slaves at all is difficult, and to find someone so young, and yet so fit and virile looking..... I assume he does perform properly, as he looks very capable...."

The boss smiled. "Oh yes... Well I suppose I was lucky to be in the right place at the right time, when he came up for sale. And yes, it is relatively rare to have a white slave, but very well worth while, I think.... A lady like you would hardly be interested in a nigga, after all, would she?"

"...no, indeed...."

"And yes, he does perform well. I've had him for some months now, and he's never failed at stud. Of course he's still rather inexperienced, and he has that impetuousness of youth that makes him rush at things.... But there's a lot of enthusiasm there...."

"Well I think I'll have him instead of the older one. He was very satisfactory last time, but I like new experiences.... And it's not often that such a delicious-looking piece of male flesh comes along...."

The boss was still smiling, as he looked at the woman "Well you can of course have him if you wish, but I would just caution you.... A lady like you perhaps needs the experience that a more mature stud like Jeff can bring? With Steve here the experience will not be prolonged, if you get my meaning...."

I wondered what on earth the boss was going on about, as, after all, what did it really matter if I shot a bit quickly? I know a lot of people liked to see a "performance", but surely this elegant woman would not be interested in that?

The woman sat there in thought, and then said "Turn around, boy, and let me see your backside...."

Still hating to be examined like this, just as if I was an object and not a man, I did as she said. I heard her tinkling laugh again then, as she asked the boss "So was he a very bad boy to deserve those four big stripes across those lovely cheeks? He gets more and more tempting by the moment - a well-hung young man who's got a naughty streak.... What did he do?"

"Oh nothing to concern a lady like you.... It wasn't anything to do with his abilities as a stud... Just a little domestic matter between him and me."

She told me to turn around again, and she looked at me once more. "He is very beautiful....", she said to the boss, "...and he still has that slightly innocent look that I see in my grandson sometimes. Yes, I've decided.... I will have him. But given what you said about his speed and so on, I'll have the other one too. They do work together, don't they?"

"Oh yes. Certainly they work together., the boss added. "And as a valued client I'll not charge more for the pair. It will be valuable additional experience for Steve."

I wondered why the woman was so interested in my performance, as, after all, what did it matter if occasionally I got so excited by the nigga bitch I was studding that I shot sooner, rather than later? But then the realisation began to dawn on me.... It wasn't some nigga bitch she had in mind for me today.... I was going to have to pleasure her! I looked at the boss, a feeling of desperation sweeping over me. I almost pleaded "Boss, no.....", but saw him shaking his head as he said "Steve, go out to the SUV with Jeff and get nailed. No arguments, now...."

Seeing that I might start some sort of dissent that would lead to later punishment, Jeff came over and put his arm around my shoulder. "Come on, Steve.... You heard the boss...."

He led me out and down the steps to the SUV, both of us with our dicks bobbing up and down. The two nearly-naked nigga gardeners waved and smiled, obviously unused to seeing nude white guys, and Jeff opened up the back of the SUV and dropped down the bottom hatch to make a table.

"Jeff, we haven't got to fuck that old woman..... Surely....?"

"Yes, Steve. And not so much of the fucking, either: she likes a lot of foreplay, and I mean a lot! My tongue's really worn out after I've been with her...."

"Jeff, it's disgusting! She's old enough to be my grandmother... You heard her...."

"Well that's as may be, Steve. But what are you going to do? Defy the boss and get punished? This lady's a valuable client - I've been here several times - and if you offend her and piss off the boss, I reckon he'd have you flogged. Properly flogged, that is, by a public whip master.... And he might have the same done to me, for not taking proper charge of you."

Jeff saw me hesitating, and went on, with a new urgency in his voice "Look, buddy, just hang in there!

It's only a couple of hours at the most... A guy can put up with anything for that length of time. Just think about some of the bitches you've enjoyed recently as you fondle her tits and so on - I'll admit it's a bit tough at first as they're all loose and flabby, but you've got a lively imagination.... And whatever you do, you don't want to lose your erection...."

"Lose my erection? I doubt I'll have one in the first place!"

"Oh yes you will, Steve. Here... Take this.... The boss tries to make it as easy as possible for me, and I'm sure he'd want the same for you...."

Jeff was holding out a blue pill, and as he did the same, I swallowed it.

"That's a derivative of those things like Viagara they used to use", he told me. "It's quadruple strength, and with that inside you you'll certainly get a wood, and keep it.... And just as well, too.... With the nail."

He was opening one of the boss's bags now, and got out a small box, which he opened. Inside, encased in a protective foam template, were two shiny silver things that looked like big nails - the head was about the size of a cent, and the spike part perhaps three inches long.

"Here....", Jeff said, holding one out to me. "Here's your nail. Let's just stand here for a few minutes before the drug takes effect so we're really hard before we put them in."

"Put them in where?"

Jeff grinned. "Oh... Up our dicks of course." He saw me looking incredulous, as if I thought he was joking.

Then seeing he needed to give me more information, went on "Look, when you fucked your girl friend, you used condoms, right? Why was that?"

"Well I didn't want to knock them up of course!"

"No, Steve. If they were worried about a young guy like you getting them pregnant, they could just have gone on the pill, or taken the 'morning after' pill to make sure none of your little swimmers had a chance. Most young girls these days make the guy wear a condom as they don't like the thought of your juices going up them! It's the stupid 'cleanliness' culture we're in - they think that a guy's cum is somehow 'unclean'.

And I guess this lady feels the same way - look at her house: all that white..... She's fanatical about dirt, I bet, and doesn't want you and me spraying cum over her bedroom - or her body! But she's not a young school or college girl, Steve - she's rich and powerful, and I expect she doesn't like condoms either - well, who would? All that rolling them on, and lubing, and all that stuff, and disposing of them afterwards when they're full of cum... And then she doesn't get to really feel your hot dick against her flesh, does she?"

"I suppose not...."

"Well then, that's why they invented the nail! We have to get boned up, then insert it through our piss slits and down our dicks.... It has to go all the way in, and the little cap on the end finally rests against your dick head. It stops the semen getting out...."

"But that must hurt...."

Jeff shrugged. "Yes, it does.... You feel yourself starting to cum, and your balls want to fire... But there's nowhere for it all to go so you really start to ache. And after you've climaxed two r three times, it's almost unbearable..."

"No... I mean pushing it down my dick! It's so big.... And I remember I had to have a swab at hospital when I thought I'd caught a dose from a slut I'd been with.... The nurse just moved one of those cotton buds around my piss slit and I almost screamed...."

Jeff shrugged again. "Well we lube it up before it goes in. And I'll help you. And it has to be thick, I suppose, to act as a 'plug'. And you'll be sore tomorrow..."

"You bet I will! I suppose it's painful to piss...."

"Well a bit, yes. But it's really sore around your dick head, as this bitch insists on the thing being glued in!"

He saw me looking puzzled and went on "Normally the nail stays in by itself, but the second time I was hear I shot so much cum that the pressure caused to mail to move a bit, and I leaked some cum over the bedspread - it's silk, or satin, or something, and she screamed at me about being a disgusting coarse oaf who was costing her thousands, as it seems that cum stains don't come out of satin and she'd have to have the whole room re-done... So the next time we got here, she told the boss that the nail had to be glued in to me. Fortunately that only means the end bit - a dab of superglue under the cap and it's glued to your dick head and can't come out. But we need to be careful - if you got any of the glue on the shaft, and that went into your piss canal...."

"Superglue?"

"Yes - it sticks anything to anything. There are all sorts of stories about guys sticking their hands together doing stuff around the house.... But it certainly works in that the silver head of the nail sticks to the skin of your dick head.... Sticks so well that we have to pry it off afterwards, and that's pretty painful: to takes off the top layer of skin, so you're all raw around your piss slit for a couple of days... And it's really painful when you need to go."

"Jeff, you can't be serious.... This is a joke, isn't it?"

Jeff looked sad. "No, Steve. That bitch has the power, and the money. And we're just slaves. And if she wants to have a couple of virile studs like us to play with in her bed, and if she wants to feel our dicks up her, then that's what she gets. What we want has got nothing to do with it."

"No, Jeff. This is too much...."

"Steve, please.... Look, the boss told me to come out here with you and to get ready. If you don't he'll punish you again, or make me punish you, and punish me.... It's OK for you, as you don't really know what a slippering is like... But I don't want that again. I'm fed up of being punished and beaten, and it's one thing if it's me who's been disobedient.... But I don't want to have to take it for what you do or don't do that upsets the boss... So please, Steve.... It's not all that bad really..."

I stood there, in an agony of indecision. Then I thought of how bad I'd felt yesterday at seeing Jeff punished, and I knew there was no way out - well, not immediately, anyway. And, after all, how bad could it be? A couple of hours with an old woman.... But Jeff would be there with me. And although this "nailing" sounded grim, Jeff had done it several times before by the sound of it, and if he was tough enough to stand it, so was I. And another thing - that tablet Jeff had given me must be working, as, like Jeff, I now realised my dick was rock solid.

We stood there at the back of the SUV, two guys with huge erections. I looked at Jeff, and shrugged. "OK, buddy.... I'll trust you... Thousands wouldn't.... We'd better get started."

End Of Part Five