Translate

Thursday, December 25, 2014

Wanderlust- Down by the Swimming Hole


After our chores there was enough help around that work was light, so when two of the farm hands Rocko and Brad wanted to take the horses for a ride I decided to join them.  It was easy enough being the son of the ranch owner to not worry about if the other guys thought I wasn’t doing my work.  Rocko rarely took a moment for himself when there was something to be done.  He didn’t just tell the guys to do something.  He was the first one to do it.  Brad on the other hand was a bit lazy, but his good nature and sense of humor kept the other guys on his side.

It was just after breakfast that we got everything together, our horses, the saddles, a rifle, and a few supplies for lunch.  When you start just as the sun is coming up the morning can seem long.  There were a few times I snuck off to some part of the field or a corner of the barn where no one would see me and took a nap, but heading off with them felt like the beginning of an adventure. 

I was headed off to college at the end of the summer so I wasn’t too worried about consequences.  Anything I did I felt could be forgotten or patched over.  When I came home on break it would all be new to me.  It would be like a new kid moving into the neighborhood, especially since many of the men would be gone or new by then. I felt good about what we were doing.  We probably wouldn’t even be noticed. 

With Rocko in the lead I knew he could handle himself in any situation.  I felt braver with him just being there.  He was the kind of guy that if he asked you to come along you knew he could get you out of something bad.  I had heard stories of him clearing out bars, pushing around cows, and taming stallions.  His hands were rough from handling bails of hay and repairing machinery.  I once saw him carry an engine across the garage to a table so he could get better lighting.  He was broad shouldered and muscled.  At over six feet tall he towered over most people, especially me with my wiry, youthful build.  I guessed him for being in his thirties but didn’t know his age for certain except that he was older than Brad who was much more like myself.

Except he dressed better than me when he wasn’t working as I always inherited my older brothers’ clothes.  He liked new, stylish shirts and blue jeans, kept a hat and a pair of boots in an old trunk that were only for impressing the ladies when he went out drinking.  His only vice was cigarettes that he rolled himself.  He talked about fights and mischief but it never sounded like he actually did it.  He knew a joke, knew a few stories, but didn’t get caught.  He was quite the sight that morning as we rode along behind Rocko on the trail through the woods, not dressed in his best but definitely his cleanest clothes, a flannel shirt tucked into a tight pair of jeans.  He had this beautiful triangle shape to his back. 

Yeah, I had a little crush on him.  I knew it.  Rocko too maybe, but he seemed so unattainable, like he could brush me off without noticing me.  At least with Brad it’d be fair, you know.  It was like if I said the wrong thing to him or he caught on to how I felt it wouldn’t be a problem, at least he couldn’t make it one.  But I kept those feelings deep inside, locked behind a door somewhere. 

We rode along at a quiet, slow pace.  The trees stuck up all around us were covered in leaves so we kept a watch for deer or other animals that might spook the horses.  The worst was a loose dog because they might try to chase you.  A deer or some other wild animal might dash in front or else run from some hiding spot but the dog, well the dog would come right at you.  That was most of the reason why we brought the gun. 

My father owned over two thousand acres, much of it woods, so we could go a lot of places, travel around it for a long time, before we got close to another farm or someone else’s land.  A lot of it was familiar to me so when we started down a trail I recognized that led to a pond I started to get excited.  I had often slipped off to it alone and swam there naked.  Sometimes the farm hands went there after a long day to bathe, though I never saw it, but I heard them talking about it.  Just little jokes and stories about how they’d wrestle with each other or dunk someone in the water, especially the new guys.

As we rode it wasn’t just the idea of swimming there myself but being with them that got me excited.  I could feel myself getting an erection at the notion of it.  I let that fantasy play out for a while until my dick strained against my jeans and underwear and it hurt, then I thought about something else because the closer we got the less likely it seemed, the less I wanted it.  They’d see me too.  They’d know.  I buried that thought deep as I stretched my neck and tried to rattle some other thoughts into my head, but there was little else to think about as we rode. 

It was monotonous with the sound of the hooves and birds.  Neither of them were talking and there was little for me to say.  I had learned when I was young that male bonding wasn’t about saying anything but about the quiet time spent together.  We bounced and swayed with the rhythm of the horses.  Rocko sipped from a flask.  Brad rolled himself a cigarette.  I watched them do it all so casually that I was worried if I tried the same things I’d drop it then have to stop everyone to get off my horse and pick up whatever it was, fighting with my horse the whole time.  So I didn’t try any of that.  I just rode along.

Before getting to the pond Rocko took a short path that led to a campsite nearby on an embankment.  It was used regularly so there were a few logs in a circle that rarely got moved and in the middle was an old ash pit.  I had only been out there when it was being used a few times the summer before when my father thought I was old enough to be around the men.  He let me have a few sips of the moonshine and a beer before we left them.  He said a boss has to keep his distance from the workers because they might start thinking of him as their equal.  I really think it was because my mother didn’t want us coming home drunk.

Rocko led us into the middle of the circle near the ash pit, then stopped and surveyed the shadows.  I moved up beside him as if I had an equal opinion while Brad lingered on the side to roll another cigarette.  I did my best to imitate him, pretend like I knew what he was thinking.  He could have just as easily rode off and I would have followed him, but he didn’t. 

Instead he dismounted and led his horse into a shadow where he tied it to a tree.  I followed him to nearly the same area to do the same thing but he directed me to a better place.  Brad seemed to know what he was doing, or else Rocko didn’t really care about his horse, knowing that if it got sick it would be Brad’s responsibility.  We walked back to the ash pit and stared at the charred remains for long enough that Brad finished smoking and threw the butt into it.  By adding something new I felt like it ruined the moment but started us in a new path towards the pond. 

We walked down narrow, uneven path directly to the water that was ringed with trees and a mud beach.  At the far end was cattails and other greens that grew out of the water and onto the land.  There was a splash of a fish that made us all laugh and look around at each other for a moment.  Rocko put his hands on his hips so I did the same.  Brad stuck his hands in his pockets.  It felt significant just to be there away from the ranch and everyone else so when Brad took off his boots, then rolled up his jeans it felt like some tether that linked us all the way back through the woods had broken.  It was just the three of us ready and willing to do as we pleased.

He set the boots in a dry area before he walked down to the pond where he slowly entered until it was just over his ankles.  Rocko shook his head so I rolled my eyes.  I wanted to strip off my clothes and jump right into the water but I stopped myself with every ounce of self-control I had left.  I tried to make myself content and it almost worked until Brad looked back to me and signaled that I should join him.  I looked to Rocko who shrugged his shoulders, then down to my boots that were getting muddy.  It was foolish to stand there, I thought, so I headed over to where Brad put his boots and started to take mine off.  They were a little awkward so I sat.

“Thinking about going for a swim?” Rocko asked.

“Just taking off my boots,” I responded. 

My voice cracked a little as we hadn’t talked the entire ride out and I barely said anything that morning.  There was so little to be said on a farm when everyone knew what they should be doing and what everyone else had to do.  I cleared my throat to try and get my voice back, get some kind of masculinity.

“Why not do it right?” Rocko asked.

“What do you mean?” I responded.

That was when he started to unbutton his shirt from the collar, worked his fingers down the front where he unbuckled his belt, pulled the ends out and undid them too.  He stepped out of the mud and moved to a grassy area with his back partially to me where he pulled off his boots.  The full length of his thigh and buttocks visible to me I watched as they flexed and tried to imagine what they might look like naked.  He opened his jeans, dropped the shirt from his shoulders to his elbows, then onto the ground.  I could see the muscles in his back, lean hips that didn’t have an ounce of fat, and pale skin.  No underwear, just skin, the only ivory part of his body that hadn’t been touched by the sun.  He pulled his jeans down and I could see the full crack of his ass, the tan line just above his knees.  I was hard just at the sight of him.  I bit my lip to make sure my jaw wasn’t hanging loose and I wasn’t drooling.  Rocko stretched his arms up to the sky and that’s when I noticed Brad was looking at me as I watched Rocko so I looked away to the top of the water, then to Brad who only smirked.

Out of the corner of my eye I watched Rocko step into the water, unable to really see any detail like the size of his dick or his balls.  He got waist deep before I decided it was okay to look back at him.  He ran his hands through the water, splashed it a little.  Brad let out a laugh as he made his way to where he put his boots as he stripped out of his clothes.  I looked up to him as he stood next to me.  He looked down into my eyes as he undid the last of his shirt.  He dropped it beside his boots, then pulled off his undershirt.  He smiled at me and I winced.

When his hands went to his belt buckle I looked away but I could still see him out of the corner of my eye.  It was like he was enjoying it.  Not being watched but teasing me with something he knew, something he saw me doing, and something I wanted.  He stepped out of his jeans, dropped them on his shirt, then pulled off his underwear and dropped them in my lap.  They fell right down in front of my face and partially into my hands.  That made me jump and yell as I threw them aside towards the rest of his clothes.  He laughed a little and Rocko looked back to us but he dismissed any trouble as he walked to the pond.  I looked up to Brad, saw his partially tanned skin from working in the fields and the much smaller patch of white, unblemished ass.  He ran his hands over his stomach, tugged at his dick a little, then looked back to me over his shoulder.

I looked away to my boots that I had yet to get off.  My hard dick betrayed my conscience as it felt like a warning or some kind of alarm that I was a pervert.  It might as well have been ten feet tall and stuck out from me for everyone to see.  I stopped trying to get my boots off and tucked my feet back against my thighs, kept my knees close together as I watched the two of them approach each other.  They seemed to be enjoying themselves and I wanted so desperately to join them.  I wanted to be out there feeling the water on every part of my body, maybe it was cool enough to calm me down.  Though I felt like I could have dipped my cock in a bucket of ice water and it wouldn’t have helped.  Somehow the thought occurred to me that I should have been first and then I wouldn’t have been in the situation I was in by having them out there naked in the water and me on land trapped in my clothes by my own dick.

They splashed water at each other, swam from shore to shore, and dove in the deepest parts.  It took a while for my erection to deflate.  When it did I slid out of my boots, got to my feet and quickly stripped off my clothes until I was down to my underwear.  Like Brad I also wore white briefs and I felt a little foolish standing there with my back to them, but I made sure to grab at my crotch a little before pulling them down and stepping out of them.  I made sure there was no slime in my pubes before I turned to the water and walked to it.  I wasn’t ashamed of my limp dick, not really.  I wasn’t hung like a horse but there was nothing to feel guilty about because I had very little to do with its size.  I walked into the water with barely an acknowledgement from them.  Finally when I was up to my shoulders they swam over to me.

“Glad you could join us,” Brad said.

“Hey, let’s race,” Rocko added.

I wasn’t a good swimmer, could barely do a breast stroke, but I wasn’t sure how good they were so I agreed.  Rocko swam away from us and we followed him to the shore where he climbed out.  I got a full view of his ass and balls as he did, then it was my turn so I followed after him knowing Brad got a full view of me.  Brad was right after me to the point that if I stopped suddenly he would have run into me so I made sure I was out of his way before facing the water.  Almost hip to hip we stood next to each other looking at the other shore.  The sun beat down on our bodies.  There was the smell of grass and flowers in the air and I could hear birds chirping. 

“On the count of three,” Rocko said.

He counted for us and just as I was about to jump when Brad stopped me by pulling on my arm.  I turned on him unsure what he was doing.  He grinned at me, then signaled for me to follow him.  I looked to Rocko who was a fourth of the way there.  It was too late to try and catch up with him.  Brad pulled on my hand so I started moving.  He led me to where we started and our clothes lay in three different piles. 

“Come on, let’s grab our clothes,” he said.

“I don’t know,” I said. 

I looked to where Rocko was halfway across the pond, swimming hard to win a competition that neither of us had even tried.  I could feel droplets of water on my body, in the middle of my back, down over my buttocks, my thighs and my crotch.  Brad was quick to grab up his own clothes before moving to Rocko’s.  Part of my back and stomach clenched at what he was doing.  I moved to grab my own clothes.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“Come on it will be funny,” he said.

I knew we were doing something wrong.  It felt like I was pushing through some kind of barrier in space and time and like I was ripping apart some kind of connection with Rocko at the same time.  But I couldn’t stop myself.  I couldn’t stop Brad.  It all just felt so dangerous.  It would be nice to see Rocko humiliated, bring him down a peg.  He had never been mean to me but he had always been strict with the other guys, so in charge and full of himself.

“Hurry up and leave his boots,” I said.

He tossed Rocko’s shirt at me.  I let out a laugh and looked back to where Rocko was climbing out of the water.  He shook off, wiped at his body, and looked back for us.  Brad already started up the trail.  Rocko looked up to me and I just started running.  I felt ridiculous with my clothes in my hands as I charged up the uneven path but I didn’t miss a step despite my balls and dick slapping against my thighs.  By the time I got up there Brad had already made it onto his horse.  I went to mine, stuck my clothes and Rocko’s shirt in my bag, then climbed up.  It was strange on the saddle without wearing anything, the feel of the hard leather against my balls and my dick off to one side.  We rode away slowly at first, but panic set in not far down the trail so we started going faster until Brad stopped his horse and I pulled up along side of him.

“We’ll never out run him back to the farm, let’s take another path, even if we get back after him we’ll still have his clothes.”

“Okay,” I said.  “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“Which way?” he asked.

I thought about it for a moment before I pointed out a path and led the way.  He followed after me and just before we turned a corner I looked back.  When I didn’t see Rocko right behind us I felt relieved.  I wasn’t sure if he expected us to return or maybe he didn’t really care.  I just kept riding.  There was no point in looking back, I thought, besides it was nice to see Brad’s body as he rode.  Whatever trouble this would cost me wouldn’t last long because I’m off to college, I thought.

We took a circular path back to the ranch, stopped at secluded spot to get dressed, then headed to the main barns.  My clothes were slightly damp from not drying off with a towel but it was nice to be home.  We laughed to each other as we went to the barn to return our horses.  We made sure to set Rocko’s clothes in a clean area before taking off the saddles and stabling them, giving them hay as well.  As we walked out of the barn, that’s when I started to feel guilty.  I almost went back to get my horse, saddle up, and go out to find Rocko.  If he wasn’t at the pond then he had to be on his way back, maybe I could minimize his humiliation and avoid any kind of punishment. 

Brad didn’t stop.  He didn’t even seem to look back as he walked to the main house.  He was happy, pleased, with what we had done.  He asked me to get him a beer as he sat on the steps with Rocko’s jeans in his lap.  I tossed the shirt next to him and went to get us a beer each.  No one seemed to be around, the house was mostly empty except for my mother who was in the kitchen cooking.  I said hello to her before I got two beers, took off the caps, and went back to where Brad sat.  He had rolled himself a cigarette and stuck it between his lips.  I sat next to him and asked for a puff.

We passed it back and forth until it was almost down to the end.  That’s when we heard hoof steps and we looked to the line of pine trees to see Rocko on his horse as naked as the day he was born.  He rocked with the gate of the horse until he got to us and he stopped.  I could see his boots in the stirrups and laughed a little as I knew the rest of him was bare.  Brad let out a laugh as well, then stopped and nudged me on the shoulder and pointed up to the man we had pranked.  He looked down at us with the most serious face I had ever seen.  The muscles of his chest, shoulders, and arms seemed larger than they had ever been.  He dismounted and stood next to his horse right in front of both of us.  His hands at his sides I could see everything.  His dick was limp, but thick and long.  His thighs were muscled and pale.  I followed the curves of his abs up past his belly button to his pectorals, then to his neck where I could see veins. 

“How’s it going?” Brad asked laughingly.

I thought all of the blood drained from my face, my jaw hung open as I looked into Rocko’s eyes.  There was no humor anymore.  We had done more than crossed a line.  He was angry.  We had wronged him.  He wanted justice.  He wanted revenge.  And he deserved to get it.  My body felt as if it had become disconnected as I sat there.  I knew I couldn’t do anything.  Brad might try to run but I wouldn’t.  He’d catch me or else tell my father and maybe, just maybe my father’s punishment would be worse.  All I could think was to apologize.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

“Not good enough,” he said before he stepped to us and reached for our faces.  I thought he was going to slap us but instead he reached for an ear on each of us, took it in his strong fingers and bent it.  Brad was the first to make a noise.  He argued and struggled while I just whined.  Rocko was naked.  He should have been embarrassed, yet he was manhandling us like two small boys.  He pulled us into his arms, one around each of us, his hand went to our belt buckles that he unfastened easily.  He released me for a moment as he pulled Brad’s pants down around his ankles, then he did mine.  I thought for a moment he was going to strip us but he didn’t do that right away. 

Instead he turned back to Brad who began to struggle to get his pants back up, grabbed hold of the man, and dragged him to the porch steps.  My jeans around my ankles, my briefs in clear view of anyone who would look, I watched as Rocko took Brad over his lap and pinned him there.  Brad struggled for a moment, kicked his legs but there was nothing he could do.  His ass was on full display covered by a thin, white fabric that revealed the shape of each cheek.

“Don’t do this Rocko,” he ordered.

The first whack came down hard and firm causing a sound that echoed from the walls of the house, the roof of the porch, and out into the rest of the farm.  It was followed by a second and a third.  He twisted and tried to reach back.

“The game is over Rocko.  You made your point now turn me loose.”

Two more strikes broke his anger making him raise his hand to his mouth where he bit into it to try and stifle any sound of pain.  Rocko spanked him again, one cheek, then the other, back and forth until he had a rhythm.  Brad arched back a little, then gave up and let his body hang loose as Rocko continued to spank him. 

A breeze came through the trees, over the blades of grass, touched the hair on my thighs, my crotch, and my ass.  It went right through the thin, white cotton to my skin and I knew it was no protection against a spanking like the one Brad was getting, like I would be getting.  The elastic somehow felt tighter around my waist and just above my thighs.  I felt like I wasn’t wearing anything at all.  Brad began to cry.  His whimpers lingered in my brain as spit flew from his mouth.  I liked the noises he was making and it started to get me excited.  I could feel my dick beginning to stiffen, the shifting of my balls, so I closed my eyes to try and think of something else.  I hoped my shirt caused some kind of shadow so that Rocko didn’t see it.

“Please, I’m sorry.  We were just messing around.  You don’t have to do this.  I won’t do it again.  Please, just let me go.”

Rocko stopped so I opened my eyes to see Brad go limp over this strong man’s lap.  He looked defeated.  My ears burned as I knew I would be next unless I pulled up my pants to run.  I thought about it.  I could get away, just run, hide out for a while, then come back when it was forgotten.  I wished I was already at college, but I just couldn’t move.  I was frozen there. 

When Brad started to move I thought it was over but then Rocko held him there, grabbed hold of the back of the man’s underwear, pulled them down over his rosy ass.  I could see every shade, an uneven coloring that started in the center of his cheeks, ran out over the mounds of flesh.  That would be my butt, I thought.  Just how bad would it hurt?  The crack of his ass, the small of his back.  The muscles began to twitch and that’s when he really began to cry as if some pain had been locked there that released itself in one great break.  He was defeated.

“Please just let me up.  I’ve learned my lesson,” Brad pleaded.

Rocko shifted a little, helped Brad to his feet, then pulled him between his knees where he unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it from his shoulders.  Brad just stood there as his shirt fell to the ground.  His red ass now on display to me I studied it carefully, noted the light amount of hair, the way each cheek quivered.  The band of his underwear tucked down under caused the material to have folds and wrinkles.  His thighs moved a little but I knew it was just to try and circulate that feeling of pain.  Rocko turned him and pointed to an area to his left for him to stand so he shuffled to it and stopped.

I looked from Brad’s ass to Rocko who sat seemingly contemplating me, or maybe he was just giving his hand a rest.  I shifted on my aching feet hoping he didn’t think I was going to try and run away.  He just stared at me.  The guilt building up in my stomach with each moment.  His knees were far apart, his limp dick hung down over his massive balls right in the middle of his thighs.  He had deep, black pubic hair.

He raised his hand, signaled with just one finger for me to step to him.  I started to shuffle my feet and I almost lost my balance.  It was all over.  I was going to do it.  I was going to be over his lap.  The tension rose up from the middle of my back into my chest, my lungs.  I started to cry as I made my way to him.  It was as if I could already feel his big hand coming down on my ass, the pain radiating out through my body.  It was an automatic reaction that I just did it, just went through with it.  He stopped me at his knee, took hold of my wrists, my arms, and pulled me down over his lap.

For a moment my feet left the ground, bound together by my jeans they felt useless until they came back down to touch the dirt by just the tips of my boots.  He positioned me carefully, pushed my shirt up my back until it was in my arm pits and I could feel it tight around my ribs.  I was his to do with as he pleased and all over some stupid prank, a joke that got out of control.  If only we had just stopped at the horses, given his clothes back, then we would all have had a laugh.  Or maybe, just maybe, if we hadn’t done it at all. 

The band of my underwear was tight, the cloth against my ass felt like it soaked up every drop of sweat.  Anyone, but especially Rocko could see the details of my ass.  I knew it would give no protection against his hand as I looked up to see Brad standing there out of the corner of my eye.  He just stared off into space with his hands at his sides for a long time before he reached back to rub at the skin.

“Hey, don’t rub it,” Rocko said.  “I want you to feel it for a long time.  I catch you rubbing your ass I’m going to take you back over my knee.”

It was the only warning Brad needed because he promptly put his hands back at his side and raised his head a little to show he could deal with it.  That was when the first strike happened and it caught me off guard.  I didn’t even register it until he raised his hand back in the air.  I wanted out.  Tears fell down from my cheeks onto the steps, my mouth open to breath deep.  I could feel the burn of my lips and ears.  I wiped at my eyes with the back of my hand but a second spank made me regret the act.  I didn’t have time to prepare myself for the next three as he gave them to me in a rapid pace. 

The pain felt as if it was stuck to the very tops of my cheeks, went right down through almost to my dick.  My dick.  It felt just as useless as my feet as it pressed into Rocko’s muscled thigh.  He continued to spank me, each time the pain spread out in circles from where he hit until it reached my lower back, then it ran up into my chest and all the way down to my feet.  I started to sob but he just kept at me.

When I reached back with my hand he only took hold of it, pinned it to my back and continued to swat me.  The sound echoed off the walls and the roof.  I was glad that only my mother was home and that she was probably completely oblivious to what was happening.  Strangely my butt stopped hurting so bad.  The pain became this dull sensation that ran through my skin, even to the top of my head.  I cried out for mercy.  I cried out for him to stop.  I cried out apologies.  His hand came down again and again.  Finally I went limp over him, every muscle in my body gave out.  I hung loose down to the steps, the backs of my fingers against the wood.

That’s when he stopped.  He had broken me.  I was truly sorry.  My chest hurt from the pressure against his thighs but it didn’t matter.  It, the spanking, was over.  Tears felt frozen on my face, I breathed in gasps and tried to speak but I had no voice.  He let me recover for a few minutes before his hands went to my sides to nudge me so I pushed myself up from his lap.  His naked body there still before me didn’t matter.

All I could feel was the burn in my ass from his spanking.  He pulled me between his knees, pulled off my shirt just as he had done to Brad, then pointed to a spot next to him for me to go and stand.  I shuffled my way there, almost bumping into Brad as I moved next to him.  Rocko stood, scratched at himself, then made his way over to me where he promptly pulled my underwear down around my ass to inspect the bruising.  Seemingly pleased with his work he pulled the band back up, a little tight so I felt the back of my briefs between my cheeks.  He did the same to Brad before he walked around in front of us.  He was naked.  We were in our underwear.  But we were clearly more humiliated and ashamed than he was. 

“Take off your pants,” he said.

“What?” Brad asked.

Rocko was quick to slap him across the face.  I looked to them then immediately bent down to get my boots and jeans off.  Brad did the same.

“Put your boots back on, then I want you to go down to the barn like that and muck out the stalls.  Take a moment to compose yourselves but don’t take too long.”

Part Two: Working Hard

No comments:

Post a Comment