I'm Fucked

"Price to be paid for everything we do, son," Horst Snyder said as he appeared from behind me, and to my horror he put a clothespin on my left nipple, squeezing the loose flesh around it before clipping it on.

"It hurts," I whined as I looked down at the wooden clip which pinched my skin.

"This one will too," Horst Snyder said as he went over and put a clothespin on my other nipple before surveying his work. "If it's any comfort, in a while they'll be the least of your worries. Open your mouth."

He stuffed that handkerchief into my mouth, telling me that he didn't want to listen to me carrying on like a baby, but said he would not bother with the blindfold so I could remember everything that happened - because I was such a pervert.

"Gonna knock the sickness out of you, boy," Mr. Snyder said after he went back behind me, and I stared at the wall and the hole I had been looking through, wishing I had just gone home before while I heard the whistle of the stick.

I could feel the breeze as he fanned the air behind me, coming close but not hitting me while I braced for the impact that I knew would come. When it did, it stung, but not as badly as I had feared. What hurt was when one of the clothespins slid off of my nipple because of the sweat that was pouring out of every pore, and that really pinched my tender bud when it popped off.

"Squeal, you pig!" Mr. Snyder said after hearing what sounded a lot like a squeal when my gagged response came from the clothespin, and he started smacking me harder with the switch.

I tried to take my mind off of what was happening, pertending that my friend Richie was out at the peep hole where I had been, doing to himself what I had done while watching him get whipped, and the thought excited me.

WHACK!

My rearend stung from the paddle, as Mr. Snyder had changed equipment, and then my bottom got a series of smacks, one of which knocked me off my toes and left my hanging by my wrists for a second, and Mr. Snyder was by my side almost instantly.

Richie's father had grabbed me and helped me regain my balance, something which I thought was odd, but then he became the stern taskmaster once more as he looked at my left nipple, which was missing the clothespin but bore the red evidence of it being there.

"You knock that other one off?" he snorted, and I shook my head violently while trying to explain what had happened through the gag in my mouth while he flicked at the other clothespin which was still in place, causing me to snort and squeal with discomfort.

"Guess not. You like it too much," Horst Snyder sneered as he looked down at my cock, which was erect and drooling with pre-cum. "You're as sick as my boy is."

He was waving that paddle around my cock, and I remember what Mr. Snyder had done when he saw Richie had an erection. The thought of that paddle smacking my nuts should have made my boner diappear, but it didn't. My now much more respectable looking unit still stood out proudly despite what might be coming.

"You and my boy," Mr. Snyder said as he brought that paddle down and put it under my dick like a plate. "You two ever do things to each other? Don't lie to me!"

I shook my head no, shook it so hard my head hurt.

"Ever suck on his thing? He ever put your thing in his mouth?"

I felt the paddle tapping the underside of my dick while I shook my head no again, trying to convince him with my eyes that I was telling the truth.

"Bet you wish he did though, right? Bet you want to do all sorts of things to my boy? Don't you?"

Mr. Snyder kept staring at me, waiting for my answer, and I braced myself for what was going to come after I nodded yes. I had wanted to be with Richie and do everything a man could do with another man, even though I had next to no experience in any of it.

"At least you aren't a liar," Mr Snyder sneered, walking away without hitting my balls, although he did smack my ass hard with the paddle as he went behind me.

Out of my sight, I could only wonder what he was doing, In front of me, the saw horse sat, and underneath it was the evidence of Richie's orgasm, the pale white blotches of dried cum standing out against the dirt.

Was that next for me? To be bent over that weary looking wooden saw horse? My wrists hurt so bad, and my shoulders and legs muscles were in knots from being stretched like I had been, so getting to lower my arms and lean over that sawhorse for a minute seemed like heaven.

Except for the other part. The thought of Mr. Snyder putting that monstrousity of his into my rectum - why couldn't it be Richie doing it? I would let him do it without complaint, but Mr. Snyder?

I didn't have long to wait. Mr. Snyder was back in front of me, and he had the lubricant in his hand, seeming to relish me shaking my head and fighting back my fears.

"Guess you know the last discipline you'll get," Horst Synder said as he slid the straps of his overalls off of his broad, hairy shoulders and let the garment drop down.

"Might not be as much as punishment to you though," he mused while I started a the thick brown hose that was only half erect but still frightening. "But I still think you'll learn something from this - about minding other people's business.

His hand slathered lotion all over his cock, and the organ swelled and stiffened as he pumped it. Mr. Snyder gave me a look of disgust when he saw me watching him greasing up his cock and when he leaned next to me the log hit my hip.

I squealed through the gag when he reached back and stuck an oily finger into my anus without warning, jabbing it in so hard I lifted off the ground. A second finger followed, and it felt like now his whole hand was up my ass.

The pain of his fingers violating me was intense but so was the feeling of relief when my arms were lowered as I was draped over the sawhorse, my rear end sticking up for Horst Snyder to do as he pleased. As I felt him move up against me I kept telling myself that if Richie could take it, so could I, but as I felt Mr. Snyder pushing the bulbous knob of his manhood into me I wasn't so sure about that.

The worst of it came when he was forcing the puffed ridge of his glans through my knot. After that, feeling his cock sliding into me was actually a relief. Mr. Snyder kept sliding deeper and deeper into my bowels, letting out a animaal-like grunt when he had completely impaled me.

He sounded like he was actually growling as he leaned over me, his hairy chest coarse against my back, and as he reached around me to pull on my sore nipples he began to slide his member in and out of my ass.

It hurt, there was no getting around that, but the pain became more of an ache, and as the tempo of Mr. Snyder's thrusts increased, even the ache was pleasurable.

Maybe it was because the man had just cum a while ago, or maybe it was because I had no real sense of time, but it seemed to be lasting a long time - longer than it had with Richie. Maybe Horst Snyder thought he was punishing me, torturing me by subjecting me to his onslaught, but if that was what he thought, he was wrong.

Even when he stopped leaning on me and stood up straight behind me with his hands on my hips, slamming into me so hard he was lifting me and rocking the saw horse a bit with every thrust, I was loving it. His grunting, growling and cursing was like music to my ears, and when he let out one last guttural roar and filled my bowels with his hot seed, I actually felt sad.

I felt his cock getting soft inside of me, and then he was slowly retracting it. I winced when the ridge of his knob popped out, but then it seemed like he was just going to leave me there like that, hunched over the saw horse.

I was tempted to reach up and yank the gag out of my mouth, which I could have done at any time after having been released from the overhead restraint but had chosen not to, but actually might have if I didn't come back to me, but he did.

He pulled me upright, just like he had done with Richie, and put his left arm around my chest to steady me. He seemed to take an eternity for his right hand to find its way down to my cock, but when it did he found me as hard as steel.

Taking my cock in his fist, he squeezed it savagely, yanking so hard it felt like he was trying to pull it clear off. It only took a couple of such pulls before I came, and when I did it was like no other orgasm I had ever experienced.

I nearly passed out from the force of my orgasm, and Mr. Snyder was actually holding me upright because legs had turned to jelly. I vaguely remember seeing ropes of cum flying everywhere before my vision got blurry from the sweat and the sensations washing over my body, and then it was over.

Mr. Snyder's iron fist left my cock, and when I was able to brace myself on the sawhorse I heard his overalls rustle as he pulled them up, and then he was gone.

Alone, the realization of pain returned. My shoulders, wrists and the backs of my legs were burning, my dick ached, and my anus throbbed, with the feeling of Horst Snyder's semen oozing out of me actually providing some soothing relief.

I looked at all of the white stains on the dirt, my still wet ropes of cum along with Richie's now dry seed, and when I saw a gob of semen on the back wall of the barn several feet away, I could only shake my head.

It took me a lot of time to get dressed, and the short walk home took way longer than usual because walking was tough, since it felt like Mr. Snyder was still inside of me, but I made it.

The shower I took when I got home took a lot of the pain away, and although I was pretty worthless around the farm the next day, by the day after I was as good as new. I wanted to see Richie, and was just trying to figure out a way to get ahold of him when he appeared at the end of our driveway that evening.

He looked strange, with a hangdog look instead of his usual smile, and when I joined him down at the end of the driveway he asked me to take a walk with him.

"What's wrong?" I asked after we reached the place behind my house where we usually drank.

"I'm sorry," he said.

"For what?"

"My father," Richie said softly, and it looked like he was going to cry. "What he did to you."

"You saw?" I asked, and Richie nodded.

"I heard noises out there and went back to see. I saw - saw everything," Richie said. "I don't know how you ended up back there though,and there's no way in hell I was going to ask him."

"He caught me - caught me peeking through the knothole in the back of the barn at what he was doing to you," I confessed. "I went back to help you, but instead I just watched."

"You saw what he did to me?" Richie asked. "Everything?"

"Yes."

"He's sick."

"I guess," I said. "Your Mom. She must hear what he does to you. Why doesn't she say something?"

"Scared. Can't blame her," Richie said. "Besides, she gets it too."

"He does that to your mother too?"

"If she burns dinner or forgets to do something he asks, I see him give her that look, and I know that later than night, after I go to sleep, she's going to get strung up in the barn," Richie said, and added. "I go out and watch that. Jerk off while I'm watching. Sick, huh?"

"Maybe," I said before catching myself. "No, well, I guess I'm sick too, because when I was watching you I jerked off."

"You did?" Richie said.

"Sorry."

"Tell you the truth, I might have done it myself when I was watching you but I thought he was really hurting you," Richie admitted. "It wasn't until the end that I saw that you actually liked it - liked it like I do. I don't know why, but I do. I liked watching, and know knowing you were watching me getting whipped and fucked really turns we on."

We looked at each other, not sure of what to say.

"You really came like crazy," Richie finally said. "When I saw that - well, when I got inside I whacked off while thinking about that."

Richie thinking about me? I didn't say anything, and wasn't even aware of dropping down to my knees in front of Richie and pulling down his pants. Because it was pretty new to me it might have been the worst blow job in history, and that big beautiful cock of his deserved better, but I knew that if he was still talking to me after I finished, I would do better next time.

After he came, Richie wasn't talking, but did something much better. Later he would tell me that he had always wanted to do that but was afraid it would screw up our friendship, which was funny because that was my line. He wasn't a very good cocksucker either, but over the course of the next few hours we both got better.

...

"You sure about this?" Richie asked.

"As long as it's okay with you," I responded, and then we approached his front porch, up to the dark figure who was leaning against the railing.

"You don't learn, do you," Horst Snyder snapped at Richie. "You're a hour late."

"That's my fault, Mr. Snyder," I said as I joined Richie at the foot of the steps, and his old man was startled when I appeared out of the darkness. "I made him be late."

"That so?" Mr. Snyder said with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes sir," I said.

"You know where to go," Richie's father said to his son, motioning to him towards the barn, and after Mr. Snyder went down the porch steps and began following his boy, he turned back toward me.

"Don't make me drag your ass back there," he snarled at me, an I nodded and hustled up to walk alongside Richie.

We exchanged glances, and my heart was racing at the prospect of being disciplined along with my best friend and new lover.

...

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