The Natural Copyright 2008 by hgo469@yahoo.com All Rights Reserved
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
If you are under 18 years of age, offended by stories which depict sex between boys, men or boys and men or live in a jurisdiction where reading/possessing such materials is illegal exit now. (If you are living in one of those jurisdictions you would do better to move now.)
This story is fiction; any resemblance to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence, nothing more; however, some of the fruits of my imagination do get their start from things that happened in the past, either to me or to someone I know. Since this is fiction, SAFE SEX isn't required; however, in real life there are too many things out there to take that sort of chance.
If you like this let me know -- questions and constructive criticism will be acknowledged -- flames will be ignored.
THE NATURAL
At three o'clock in the morning the last thing one would expect to see is a 15-year-old boy pushing a bicycle along the side of a rural highway, or at least I thought it was until that Sunday morning as I headed back into town from a night of partying at the river with friends. Bill had invited me to stay over, but I wanted to get home and back to work -- I had a deadline to make on my latest project and I wanted to make it on time for a change.
When the boy saw my headlights he turned toward me and put out his thumb in the classic hitch-hiker fashion. I could see that the bike had a flat front tire and slowed to get a better look at the boy. Even this far from the city you don't see that many teenage hitchers any more -- times have changed and there seemed to be a lot more fear of all strangers everywhere. Back when I was in my teens I always hitched -- one time I got left naked in the forest preserve, but the sex I had with the guys who left me there was fantastic and the worst I got from it was a few mosquito bites in laces that hadn't been bit before.
Since I was driving my pick-up truck I pulled off the road a bit passed the boy and watched in my mirror as he quickened his step to come up on the driver's side.
I lowered my window; with the A/C on I hadn't realized how warm and humid it still was for that late at night. "Having problems?" I asked.
"The front tire went flat and no one has even slowed down as they drove by. Even the sheriff just blew passed me." He looked and sounded worn out.
"Where are you headed at this time of the night?" I inquired, looking him up and down. He had taken off his shirt so that all he was wearing was a pair of shorts and sneakers. His dark hair was plastered to his head with sweat and there appeared to be a light dusting of brown hair on his legs, but his chest and stomach were smooth with his nipples standing out like two miniature cocks.
He named a town almost 50 miles up the road.
"Well, I'm only going to Cedarville, but it is in the right direction and when it gets to be morning for real perhaps we can get your tire fixed. Toss your bike in the back and let's get going."
So far this weekend really sucked. Uncle Wilbur was almost three hours late picking me up. It had taken the twins that long to get ready and they had been scheduled to ride out to the river with their mother on Saturday so that Uncle Wilbur and I would have Friday night in the cabin alone to get ready for the rest of the family. With the twins there everything took twice as long and had no privacy. Also, with all their junk I had a hard time fitting my bike in and forgot my tire repair kid. I'd never needed it before, but always carried it -- and now ...
Everyone else arrived Saturday morning and by dinner time all the adults were drunk. I was expected to watch the twins, change the babies, cook the steaks, fetch more beer, and do anything else they thought of -- I had come to enjoy myself -- not be everyone's slave boy.
Still, I did manage to get in some swimming and even worked on my suntan for a little while. It was after dinner when everyone wanted something at the same time and one of the babies started to howl about something that I finally snapped.
"Why's the baby crying?" Aunt Martha shouted at me.
"How the hell do I know, I can't read minds," I retorted angrily.
"Don't you talk to me like that," she snapped
Sarcastically I replied, "Sorry, Master, but this humble slave only has two hands."
Now everyone started telling me I needed to show respect for my elders. I stood there for a couple minutes listening to their drunken abuse and then it was my turn.
"Fuck all of you! I'm not your slave. If you want anything else, get it yourselves." I stormed out, slamming the back door.
"Come back here, you," someone shouted.
I raised a single finger in the classic salute, hopped on my bicycle and took off without giving a whole lot of thought to where I might go or how far I was from home. It had been a hot day and even with the dun down it was still plenty warm. It was only when I was approaching a small crossroads store that I realized that I had left without a cent in my pockets.
There was a restroom on the side of the building so I got a drink in there and then continued -- there was no way I was going back there tonight; besides, they were all so drunk I doubted if they even realized I was gone.
The road was fairly level and at the rate I was going I felt I would be home by mid-morning, before it got too hot -- this is until my front tire went flat -- then all bets were off.
I thought about hiding the bike in some woods away from the road and just trying to hitch a ride, only the bike was new, I had saved for almost a year to buy it, I couldn't be sure I could remember exactly where I hid it and if someone else happened to find it first it would be gone for sure -- besides, most of the vehicles that had passed me so far had been pick-up trucks.
Not many people seemed to be out this late at night, and the few who were blew passed me as if I weren't there. I was beginning to think I was going to end up walking all the way home when a car seemed to be slowing down as he came closer. It pulled onto the shoulder just passed me -- it was a dark red pick-up. He opened the driver's side window as I walked up and the blast of cool air that hit my face felt wonderful.
I told him where I was going, he told me to throw my bike in the back and join him up front. As soon as I had closed the door he took off down the road. I hadn't realized how tired I was until I settled back in the cool comfort of the truck cab.
"My name's Michael, what's your's?" he asked as I fastened my seatbelt.
I laughed, "So is mine."
He gave me a serious glance, "For real?"
I nodded. "I'd show you only I don't have my wallet with me."
He looked at me quizzically so I gave him a short version of what had happened today.
"I can see why you left," he said, adding, "but don't you think they'll start worrying about you in the morning?"
"Maybe, maybe not. I live with my Grandparents now; my father is in prison for killing my mother after she threatened to file for divorce. I've lived with all of my aunts and uncles at one time or another, but none of them want a `murderer's kid' around their children all the time. I guess they're afraid I'll turn out like him and kill all of them in their sleep."
"Sounds like that might be considered a public service," he said with a chuckle.
I laughed too.
"Looks like you're exhausted, why don't you close your eyes and grab a nap. I'll wake you when we get to Cedarville."
He didn't have to say that twice, I closed my eyes and quickly drifted off to sleep.
I looked over at the sleeping youth, even in the dim glow of the dashboard lights he was lovely. The family that shuttled him around from relative to relative didn't Recognize what they had -- what a shame!
It wasn't quite four o'clock when I pulled off the road into my driveway -- Cedarville, what there was of it, was still sound asleep. I imagine a few of the local farmers were starting their day -- milking cows, gathering eggs and the like -- but for the rest of us it was still the middle of the night.
For that matter I lived on a farm myself, in fact, I grew up on this same farm -- only now days I leased out all the fields, keeping only the original homestead and the small woods for myself. Since almost everything I did was handled over the internet these days, it really didn't matter where I lived, so when I inherited the family farm I moved back from the city -- the best move I'd ever made.
I pulled my truck into the barn which I used as a garage, office, studio and workshop. When I turned off the engine Mike awoke and sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"My place -- more specifically in my barn -- there isn't anything open in Cedarville this early so I figured the best thing was to bring you here."
I got out of the truck and flipped on some lights -- he climbed out and looked around at my workshop. In one corner there was a wooden pillory I had just finished but hadn't shipped to the buyer yet.
"What's that?" he asked, pointing at the pillory.
"A pillory -- I build them."
"What does it do?"
"Back in the 1500's and even earlier it was used to hold someone up to public disgrace for punishment for minor crimes or religious blasphemy."
"Why would someone want one now days?"
"Sometimes it's for a movie prop or for a haunted house on Halloween. That one is for a guy who wants to put his sex slaveboy in it."
"Slaveboy? I thought slavery was illegal."
"It is, only some people want to be treated like a slave or sexslave."
He seemed to be thinking about that and I just stood there silently.
"What will he do once he has the boy locked in that thing?"
"I don't know for sure, but if I had a boy locked in it I would paddle or spank his naked ass and then fuck him."
Mike rubbed his ass as if he had just been spanked. "Uncle Fred made me bend over a sawhorse when he spanked me, but he didn't tie me up."
"Did he pull down your pants so that he spanked your bare bottom?"
"Only the last time. That's when I moved back to be with my Grandparents."
He moved over to take a closer look at the pillory. "Is it okay if I touch it?" he asked.
"I don't think you can hurt it so go ahead," I replied.
He appeared to be fascinated with the device -- he ran his hands around the neck and wrist holes, opening and closing it several times.
"What if the wrist holes are too big?" he asked.
"Well, I have some wrist cuffs to cover that problem, but this one was made to fit."
"Can I try it out?" he asked, his voice cracking slightly.
I hesitated a bit then said, "The rule is that any boy in the pillory has to be naked and be willing to take at least ten swats."
Now it was his turn to pause, after a little bit he kicked off his sneakers and pulled down his shorts, stepping out of them so that he was standing there in just his bikini brief underwear.
"Would you lock me in the pillory and then remove m underwear before giving me the swats?"
I stood there in just my underpants -- the thought of being helpless and naked turned me on and I could feel my cock straining against the sheer fabric of my briefs. I looked down and saw a dark spot right at the tip of my erection.
He raised the top of the pillory and tapped the bottom of the neck cut-out. I placed my head through the hold and then placed my wrists in the cut-outs designed for them. He lowered the top and then latched both sides. I tried to life up but it didn't move and the holes were tight against my wrists and neck. I was helpless and my cock as hard as I ever remembered it being.
I couldn't see what he was doing behind me, but I felt his hands as he rubbed them across my stomach and then up and onto my chest where he pinched each of my nipples before running them down my sides to hook his fingers into the waistband of my briefs and slowly pull them down. For a moment the waistband caught on my erection, pulling it down until the elastic slipped off it allowing it to slap up against my groin with an audible smack. He continued to pull them down until they were around my ankles and then I stepped out of them, leaving me stark naked and completely helpless with a man I didn't know while on one had any idea where I was.
I felt him fasten something around my ankles and then he pulled my leg apart, tying them so that I was unable to bring them back together.
Before I could ask what he had done he said, "Okay, now it is time for your swats. How many did we agree to?"
"Y-you said `at least ten swats,' Sir."
"Fine, we'll start with ten and see how that goes. You'll have to count them out loud -- if you lose count we start over."
"Yes Sir," was all I could think to say.
I heard him opening cabinets and then the swish of something cutting through the air. I tensed my ass muscles expecting a blow only nothing happened -- then, just when I relaxed a bit there was a quick swishing sound and a wooden paddle struck my left ass-cheek.
"One!" I remembered to count.
"You need to count properly -- you say, `One -- thank you sir, may I have another?'"
The paddle flew through the air, striking my right ass-cheek this time.
"Two -- thank you sir, may I have another?
"Wrong! I told you if you lost count you would start over -- the same applies for a wrong count. Now, let's start again."
I began to wonder just how many times he was going to make me start over, already my ass was hurting. I had agreed to this and I wasn't going to try to back out, but ... I realized my hard-on hadn't fated in the least -- what was wrong with me, I was more turned on than ever.
SMACK!
The paddle hit both cheeks this time. "One!" I called out. "Thank you Sir, may I have another?"
SMACK!
He hit a fresh spot. "Two! Thank you Sir, may I have another?"
SMACK!
This time he hit lower, more like the back of my thigh. I pulled back a shout of pain. "Three! Thank you Sir, may I have another?"
SMACK!
This one hit right where the very first one had and it hurt even worse. I felt tears starting to flow, but I swallowed back a sob and counted: "Four! Thank you Sir, may I have another?"
I used the pain to help block everything else out. I just counted. Suddenly I realized that the count was up to sixteen.
SMACK!
"Seventeen! Thank you Sir. I thought I only had to take ten?" I asked.
"I said `at least ten' and you kept asking for another, so being the nice guy I am, I gave them to you." He chuckled a bit.
I heard him put down the paddle as he said, "Now, don't go away." A door opened and closed and I was completely alone, naked and helpless. And still my cock was rock-hard -- was something wrong with me?
This kid was a natural, even after the two swats I hadn't let him count he took seventeen before he recognized we had exceeded the ten he had agreed to. His ass-cheeks and the backs of his thighs were bright red and a few droplets of blood had seeped through in a couple of spots where several strokes had criss-crossed. When I looked at his groin he still had a full erection, even most well-trained slaves couldn't maintain an erection after what he had experienced.
I left him in the pillory while I went to the house for some lotion to help relieve the pain. When I returned a few minutes later he was almost asleep, still standing there -- truly a natural slave if even I saw one.
I poured some of the cool lotion into my hand and started applying it to the backs of his thighs. He jumped at my first touch and then started whimpering softly as the lotion began soothing his abused skin.
As I worked the lotion into the crack of his ass I fingered the puckered rosebud of his asshole and he pushed back against my finger as if to invite it to invade his rectum. The more I rubbed against his boy-pussy the harder he bucked against me.
I poured some more lotion into my hands and then reached in front of him and wrapped my greasy hand around his rigid five inch boy-cock. He moaned with pleasure and pushed back agasint the fingers that were pushing their way passed his clenched sphincter muscle.
"Fuck me," he pleaded in a hoarse whisper.
"Have you been fucked before?" I asked, "I'm fairly large."
"My father fucked me all the time, that's why he killed my mother, she tried to stop him, only I didn't want him to stop."
The helpless youth began to fuck his boy-cock in my tight fist while softly chanting: "Fuck me, please fuck me."
Not being one to turn down an offer like that I quickly dropped my pants, worked some of the slippery lotion on my already rock-hard ten-incher, and rubbed the purple mushroom of my erection's head on the puckered entry to his love canal.
The captive boy continued to fuck his hard-on in and out of my clenched fist while trying to skewer himself on my fuck-pole. His clenched sphincter was no mater for my slippery cock as it popped into his guts, the sphincter now tightly grasping my glans.
Michael gasped as I penetrated him and then gave his ass a wiggle as he attempted to grow accustomed to the thick invader.
I held still for a minute, savoring the delightful feel of his tight anus around my rock-hard cock, and then I pressed forward until about half of my cock-shaft was buried inside the helpless youth.
"That hurts so good!" he exclaimed hoarsely.
I pulled back until only my cock-head was still inside him and then pressed forward once again -- this time only stopping when my groin was pressed tightly against his abused ass-cheeks.
"ARGH!" he shouted as he worked his anal muscles against the long thick invader.
I knew I wouldn't last very long buried inside him, I slowly started an in and out rhythm while keeping my masturbation of his cock on the same rhythm, hoping that we might both cum at the same time. I felt his balls begin to pull up into their sac and knew he was about to shoot so I increased my own pace and as I felt the first spurt pass through his cock I began to pump my own load of jism into his hot insides.
He matched me spurt for spurt, his passion exploding across the room while my own juices powered deep into his buts, I almost expected to see my jism dribble out his nose.
Slowly erection faded, withdrawing from his abused rectum with an audible "pop!" -- Meanwhile his boy-cock maintained his rigidity as if to say I'm ready to do it again. The idea was appealing, but it would take me a bit longer to recover from the last round.
The combination of the pillory, the paddling, and being fucked and masturbated was almost more than I could handle -- I was on sensory overload -- and I couldn't be happier. Was this the sort of life I really desired? I only knew that this had been the sexiest night I had ever experienced.
I felt him releasing my ankles and then opening the pillory.
"Don't try to stand up until I take hold of you or you may fall after what you've just been through," he said. Then he grasped me around the chest with one arm as he pulled my head up from the cutout my neck had rested in.
As I tried to stand up I felt a bit light-headed and fell back against his chest as he steadied me in his arms and led me to a large mattress on the floor in the corner.
I lay down and he dropped down beside me, pulling my body tight against his -- my ass rubbing against his groin. I could feel his slowly inflating tool again rubbing itself against the crack of my ass until it seemed to be drawn directly to the tightly clenched entry to my boy-cunt.
"Are you ready for another round?" he asked as he reached between us, guiding his erection toward its target.
"Fuck me again!" was all I could say, not original, but what I wanted. Then I added, "Please!"
He used his finger to spread a bit of the cum that had leaked from my rectum across the fat mushroom of his cockhead and then pressed forward, pushing through my barely resisting sphincter and into my love canal.
"This time you're going to do all the work," he said as he grasped me and rolled onto his back when me on top of him, impaled on his now rigid man-meat. He pushed me into a sitting position and then turned me around to face him, using his cock in my asshole as a pivot.
"Now, fuck yourself," he commanded as he took my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers and began pinching and pulling on them as if they were twin miniature pricks. No one had ever played with my nipples like that before. I almost shot my wad right then, without even touching my cock.
I reached down to jack on my cock and he slapped my hand away. "In this room you are still a slaveboy and slaves aren't allowed to touch themselves without permission," he said sharply.
"May I have permission to pleasure myself, Sir?" I asked.
"NO! Just keep working your asshole up and down my cock -- we'll see about your cock later. At the moment your Master's pleasure is the only thing you need to be concerned about." He pinched my tits extra hard -- if felt like they were connected directly to my cock as I grew even harder.
I concentrated my efforts on bringing him to orgasm by tightening my sphincter more than ever as I worked my asshole up and down his rigid manhood, letting the electric sensations from his manipulation of my nipples continue their course through my cock and balls.
I didn't think it was going to be much longer before I blasted my second load of the night into the hot asshole that was giving me a serious sexual workout. I was trying to hold back until my work on his nipples combined with the prostate massage he was getting worked to bring him to orgasm without anyone touching his erection. His ragged breathing, combined with his moans told me it wouldn't be long now, which was a good thing considering how close I was myself.
With a loud grunt he blasted his wad over my head and against the wall with a "SPLAT!" His next shot fell on my face and the rest formed a pool of hot jism on my chest -- at the same time I blasted my load into his hot guts in a truly memorable orgasmic rush.
He fell exhausted onto my chest, his tongue darting out to lick up the string of his cum from my face. My fuck-pole slowly lost its rigidity and crept out of his rectum despite his sphincter's best efforts to hold me inside him.
I wrapped my arms around his lithe body, pulling us tightly together as I rolled onto my side, lowering his body back to the mattress. I kissed him on the forehead and shushed him when he started to speak. In short order we both drifted off to sleep the exhausted sleep of the sexually satisfied.
I awoke confused -- it took me a minute to remember all of the events of the past evening and to recognize the naked man whose arms kept me plastered to him. I tried not to move very much so as not to wake him, only I needed to piss so bad it felt like my back teeth were starting to float.
I felt a change in the rhythm of his breathing and then he opened one eye. He bent forward slightly and kissed first my forehead and then the tip of my nose.
"Sleep well?" he asked with a grin.
"Yes Sir! But I really need to pee."
He grinned again. "A shower wouldn't hurt either of us as well."
He started to sit up, allowing me to do the same. He led me into the bathroom and we stood there, side-by-side, our thick streams of urine crossing each other as they poured into the toilet bowl.
"Who showers first?" I asked.
"How about we shower together? There's plenty of room." He opened the door to the shower; it was huge, with showerheads all over. Suddenly they were all shooting sprays of water and he took me by the hand and led me into the most fantastic shower of my life.
I started to say something but he put a finger to his lips and I remained silent. He proceeded to lather my entire body, paying particular attention to my cock and balls, then as he ran his soapy fingers up and down my vertical smile he paused for a moment to allow one of his slippery digits to slip passed my sphincter and into my anus.
I pushed back against the invader, doing my best to work more of it up inside me.
"Still hot for more?" he asked.
I gasped in agreement.
Removing his finger he turned me around and pulled my backside up against his hairy groin. I felt his rigid fuck-pole work its way up and down my ass-crack until it stopped, centered on the puckered rosebud of my asshole.
"UMPH!" he grunted as the mushroom-shaped cockhead forced its way inside me. Once again I felt that fullness that only comes when a hard cock is pushing into a willing rectum.
Quickly he established an in-and-out rhythm that was driving my prostate crazy while at the same time one of his soapy hands was masturbating my youthful erection with the same steady rhythm.
Once again I was in sexual heaven -- I didn't want it to ever stop, only I knew that my explosion was due momentarily and I sensed that he was right there as well.
With a loud grunt he powered his rigid tool into me, burying himself deep into my gut until I almost expected his cockhead to appear in my throat. My own nuts pulled up tight in their sac as my juices burned their way up and out onto the tiles of the shower before being washed away by the streams of hot water that came at our naked bodies from all directions at once.
As my orgasm subsided I felt his hot seed spurting into my love canal, again filling me with his liquid love. When his eruption ended he held himself inside me and then I felt something a bit different, must the same as the enema he had given me the previous evening.
"Y-you're peeing inside me," I said a bit surprised.
"Yes, and you love it, don't you?"
I didn't say anything but his hand running up and down my again erect member was answer enough.
When he had finished emptying his bladder he withdrew his softening penis while telling me to clench my sphincter tight until he told me to release the hot juices inside me.
This boy was a natural, he didn't allow a drop of my urine or cum to escape from his backside until I had turned him around and pressed him down to his knees, my cock with some of his rectal matter still smeared on its side stood directly in front of his face. Without any urging on my he opened his mouth to accept the ship-stained erection, taking first the bulbous head and then several inches of the shaft while he wrapped his arms around my legs, rubbing his hands on the inside of my thighs.
"Okay, you can release now," I said as I grasped his head and pressed forward, my erection now pushing against the back of his mouth, trying to gain entry of his throat.. Suddenly entry was granted and I pushed forward until his lips and nose were buried in my pubic patch.
I smiled as the gush of my sperm and urine, combined with his shit splashed onto the tile floor and was washed away with the flood that came from all around us.
Sensing that he was about to pass out from lack of oxygen, I pulled myself out of his throat, allowing him a couple of deep breaths before I pushed the plug back into his throat. I repeated this several times, each time waiting until just before he was ready to pass out from lack of oxygen before pulling back. I didn't think I would be able to cum again so soon, but I surprised myself as I shot yet another load of hot juice directly down his throat.
Instinctively he swallowed my semen and I pulled my now clean member out as it once again returned to a flaccid state.
I helped him back to his feet and we finished our shower.
After toweling off, I led him, still naked, in to the kitchen where I prepared breakfast.
I learned that he had never eaten in the nude before and told him that I very seldom wore clothing around the house or even out in the year as the combination of the distance from my neighbors and the tall hedge around my property gave me plenty of privacy.
At this point I allowed the real world to intrude and after dressing I took him into town where we repaired his bicycle and then I sent him on his way home with the reminder that if he was around here again he was always welcome to stop by for a bit, adding that I had an opening for a slaveboy.
His parting comment about having an opening for a slaveboy played in my mind for my entire ride home.
When I got home I was questioned a bit about where I had been, but when I said I'd had a flat and stayed with someone from school that seemed to satisfy everyone.
Over the next couple of weeks my home-life didn't seem to improve and several relatives came around hoping to get an apology from me for what happened at the lake. Fat Chance!
Now they're planning another trip to the lake -- this time for a full week. I was told I could come if I "behaved" myself and didn't have any more "outbursts of temper". I did manage to hold my temper, but I elected to stay home so grandpa and Uncle Wilbur gave me a long list of things I was to do while they were away.
After they left I packed my few things -- wrote: "NO FUCKING WAY!" across the list of chores and then took off on my bike.
Now I'm sitting on my bike at the road end of Michael's driveway, working up the courage to go in and if he still needs that slaveboy.
Wish me luck.