Pony Boy Ch. 02

This story is the long awaited sequel to 'Pony Boy' and, if you haven't read that, then please do so first. Quite a bit of the story refers back to events in the first part and it won't make much sense if you read them out of order.

And, of course, there are the usual disclaimers; anyone involved in sexual acts is over eighteen and we're all fictional.

Chapter 02 - Back to the Races

It was well gone noon when I finally woke after a fitful night's, or should that be morning's sleep. I made my way to the bathroom and started on my morning ablutions. My backside was sore where the 'tail' had been but it was nothing compared to how tender my balls were. I sat on the toilet, gently recuperating and thought back over the previous evening.

What had I got myself into! How naïve had I been to somehow think that all I would be doing was a little 'pony' racing. I had never dreamt that I was, effectively becoming a rent boy for the night. So much for Mr H's promise that I wouldn't have to get involved in more than 'a certain amount of groping'; I had both given and received blow jobs. What's more, I had had some vision of the punters as dirty old men in raincoats, creepy but hardly threatening. The reality had been a massive wake up call. Arthur and his friends had been bad enough but Archie was positively terrifying.

Still, it didn't really matter. I had survived and I was still in one piece, just. I would never want to do it again, whatever the cash on offer. Honest I wouldn't, honest!

But, as I thought over the things I had done I found that, despite the bruised and battered state of my balls, I was getting hard. Whether I went back or not, there were some aspects of what had happened that had shaken my concept of what I was and what I wanted. Take, for example, when I had been sat on Arthur's lap, playing the moxie. When he had slid his hand up my thigh and into my shorts I had been genuinely excited. As he had played with my prick I hadn't had to fake my response and, when I had kissed his nipple, for all that he had been a fat, ugly, slob, it had thrilled me as much as him.

And then, on my knees, being abused by Si, that had touched a nerve deep, deep inside me. By rights I should have been appalled. I had been tricked, hoodwinked, into a position where I was forced to give complete strangers blow jobs and yet, and yet, even now I could feel his prick filling my mouth and hear the words he used. Why did it thrill me so? Why did I ache to do it again?

In fact the whole pony boy experience had been so, so far from what I had expected. Andy had suggested that it was just young men parading around naked for the sexual gratification of dirty old perverts. What I hadn't bargained on was finding myself just as aroused as the 'perverts'. What did that make me?

Just thinking about what I had done was making me hard and I ended up gingerly stroking my prick but my balls were far too sore and I had to stop. Aroused or not, I wasn't going to be doing any wanking for a day or two. What's more, the day was fast slipping away. I had already missed the two lectures I had set for that morning, and, academically, I had nothing else in my diary. Part of me just wanted to go back to bed but Mr H still owed me money and, for that, I needed to go to his office. I wondered what he had meant by 'we have to talk'. That's never a phrase that bodes well. I gave myself a lick and a promise, scraped a razor over my face, got dressed in the loosest pair of sweatpants I could find, bunged on a tee shirt and went down to my car so as to drive to the Acme East offices.

"Hello, Ben! How's the old meat and veg?" Tracy said as soon as I entered.

I must have looked blank, I certainly felt it.

"Meat and veg? Family jewels? Your balls, sweetie, your balls. From what I heard Archie did quite a job on you. That'll put a stop to your wanking for a day or two."

I just blushed, much to Tracy's amusement.

"Is Mr H...?" I asked.

"Hang on," she said before pressing a button on her phone.

"Harold," she said when it was answered. "There's a young man with a squeaky voice come to see you. Yeah, that's the one. OK, Will do." She turned back to me. "Go on through, darlin', go on through. He's expecting you."

I went through to the back office and there was Mr H behind his desk.

"Well, if it isn't my little pony. Which one are you, I wonder, Fluttershy, maybe?" he laughed. "How's the balls. Drop the keks and show Uncle Harold."

I nearly protested but, let's face it, he'd already seen it all and more and it was a bit late for modesty. I sighed deeply, undid the drawstring of my jogging bottoms and pushed them, along with my boxers, down to my knees.

"Come here, sonny, I can't see from over here."

Waddling somewhat with my trousers around my ankles I made my way over to the side of his desk. He beckoned me closer until I was standing right next to him. He reached down and, quite gently, gave them a feel. Even so I winced at the touch.

"Have you taken a piss yet? How was it?"

"I had one this morning, Mr H. It was fine," I replied.

"No blood in the urine?"

"No, none at all."

"You're OK. Just a bit bruised. Go and see a doctor if you want but he won't tell you anything different. Take it easy and you'll be fine by the day after tomorrow. Now, pull your pants up and take a pew."

I did as I was told and, as I was getting organised, he opened his desk drawer and pulled out a cash box and a note book.

"First things first; let's get the cash sorted. Now, let me see," he said looking through the notebook. "Turning up, that's eighty, three races in the main event, that's another sixty which makes ton forty all together. Then there's the two hundred for winning a post meet race plus tips totalling forty, sixty, ton twenty, ton sixty, ton eighty, two forty, two sixty. I make that four sixty from which I take twenty five percent or ton fifteen leaving three forty five for you. Add on the original ton forty makes a grand total four hundred and eighty five quid. Tell you what, I did pretty well out of you last night so I'll round it up to the full five hundred, can't say fairer than that, can I?"

"Five hundred! Thank you, Mr H!" Suddenly Malaysian beaches seemed a heck of a lot closer.

He took a pile of bills and peeled off fifties and twenties galore until he had made up five hundred pounds and then he handed it over. As I held the cash in my hand my balls didn't seem to hurt so badly. I put the money away in my wallet.

"So, the next meeting," Mr H started.

"Err... about that," I cut across.

"What about it?"

I thought of the money in my wallet and my resolve faltered but, really, I had been all but castrated. "I'm not sure... I'm not sure I want to do it again." I said after a while.

"Let me guess. You're not too keen on giving Archie another shot at crushing your balls, is that it?"

"Something like that. I'd like to have children one day."

"Yeah, he was a bit rough," Mr H laughed. "But apart from that? Apart from Archie you didn't seem to be having any problems at all. You seemed to be having a fair old time with Arthur and his friends. Blow jobs all round, wasn't it?"

"Apart from Archie, the rest of it was... yeah, I guess it was OK," I replied. I was far too confused about how I felt to explain it to myself, let alone Mr H. Mind you, even with Archie I was actually tempted. Five hundred quid! Malaysia, here we go! If I could pick up that sort of money then the new iPhone was also on the cards. But, whatever the cash, I knew I should just walk away. The only viable option was to take the five hundred and write everything else off to experience. Why was walking away so hard, why was there was part of me that didn't want to?

"The thing is," Mr H went on, "I've had quite a bit of interest in you. Quite a few said that they wanted to see you run in more races and were disappointed that you weren't available at the party afterwards. As I said, it makes a change to have a pony who's not covered in tats and track lines."

"It wasn't my fault I wasn't available," I protested.

"No, they understand that. They all heard about what Archie did. So, about the next meeting..."

I was tempted, sorely tempted. Five hundred quid! But the money was just the icing on the cake. If only... And then another twinge from my balls reminded me exactly why not.

"I'm sorry, Mr H," I said as firmly as I could. "You said it yourself. I'm not really tough enough to be a pony boy. Archie... Archie really scared me last night."

"Archie scares most people. Are you sure I can't persuade you, really sure?"

Mr H seemed almost too keen to get me racing again. I was sure there was something he wasn't telling me and the more I distrusted him the more I felt I had to get as far away as possible. As it was it took all but half an hour before I could extricate myself and make my way home.

And that should have been that. I'd had my walk on the wild side. I should leave it be, chalk it up to experience and be grateful I got out of with my balls attached.

But it seemed that leaving it be wasn't an option. Five days later that, as I made my way to college, two bruisers came up to me, blocking my way into the building.

"Archie wants a word," one said without any preamble.

I looked at the two goons and realised that they knew exactly what they were doing and, just as importantly, that I didn't. Putting up a fight would be worse than useless. Whether I liked it or not, I was going to have a word with Archie. They marched me to a waiting car, put me in the back seat, and got in either side of me. The car pulled away and took us to a mini-cab firm somewhere in Barking. The goons manhandled me through to the garage around the back, the mechanics were told to fuck off and have a tea break, and there I was standing in front of Archie himself.

"Ah, Ben, thanks for coming to see me. I so wanted to have a little chat," he said rather too sweetly. "You weren't at last night's race meeting. A little bird tells me you don't fancy the racing any more. I don't think that's right, is it?"

I was shitting myself, not quite literally, but close enough. In a desperate attempt to keep things light I tried humour.

"I found... I found racing injurious to my health. Last time I went I nearly lost my balls."

Archie smiled but not the sort of smile that reassures.

"Injurious to your health? You won't go racing because you might get hurt? Oh, no, that's not how it goes at all. It's pretty simple. You'll end up getting hurt if you don't go. There's a race meeting next week and, if you want to keep hold of your balls, you're racing in it. Do I make myself clear?"

"Race meeting? But I told Mr H...."

"In which case you'd better go and untell him. Go round to his office and tell him you've changed your mind, sort of thing."

"I guess I'll have to," I replied.

"Too damn right you have to. Look, sunshine, I've decided to take an interest in you. I've decided that you're going to go back to racing and you're going to do it under my orders. You'll race just the way I tell you to, won't you."

"I'll try my best."

"Oh, you'll try a lot harder than that. Did you think that I hurt you? Last time, at the party, were your balls a little sore afterwards?"

"I... I couldn't walk properly for a week."

"Well that's nothing to what I'll do to you if you don't do as you're told. If you're a good little boy then, maybe I wont have to hurt you again. But one slip, one little slip, and it will be far, far worse than last time. Do I make myself clear."

"Yes, Mr Archie."

He came and stood right in front of me, reached down and, inevitably, grabbed my balls and twisted.

"Please, Mr Archie, Sir...."

"What?"

"I'll do it, I'll race the way you want me to, promise I will but I won't be able to if my balls hurt too much. I could hardly walk for a week last time."

He gave a further twist and a push and I fell backwards on the concrete floor. Quick as a flash he was on me. He put his foot on my face and ground it into the dirt. I felt a warm damp patch spread across my groin as I pissed myself.

"From now on you're mine. You belong to me. You do everything I say when I say it and you don't give any grief, none what so ever. Now then, who do you belong to?"

"You, Sir."

"I can't hear you."

"You, sir, I'm yours, Sir. I'll do anything you say sir" I sobbed.

"And don't you ever forget it. Oh, and one last point," he pushed his foot harder into my face, "you don't need to go telling anyone about our little arrangement. You stay completely schtum, not a dickie bird. And, if you're thinking of running away, running back to mummy and daddy at...," here her reeled off my home address, "then think again. We wouldn't want anything to happen to that pretty little sister of yours. How old is she now? Sixteen. It would be a shame if she met with an... accident."

"No, no, please, I'll do what you tell me to; I'll do anything you say," I sobbed. "I won't tell anyone. You can trust me. Honest you can." The true horror of what he was suggesting came home to me. He already knew where I lived, where my family lived and, if he could hurt me then... oh, god, what had I got myself into.

"Anything I say? Let's see shall we." He took his foot off my face and walked a pace or two away from me. "That's your mess on my nice clean floor. Lick it up. Go on."

I got up on my hands and knees and, yes, there was a puddle where I had pissed myself. However, calling his floor clean was another matter. However repulsive it might be I had no choice so I did exactly what he said, putting my face down in the puddle and licking it up, much to his amusement.

"That's enough," he said after a while. He turned to the two goons who were standing by, watching. "Get him out of my sight and remember, I want him fit to race next week."

Right you are, Archie," one of the goons replied and he leant down, grabbed my arm, lifted me up off the floor, and took me to a van where he all but threw me in the back. He was rough but, compared to Archie, he didn't actually hurt me. He didn't need to, I was scared enough as it was.

They didn't take me back to college but chucked me out somewhere near Plaistow tube station. Luckily I had enough cash to buy a ticket home. However, I didn't go to lectures, I went back to my digs. I needed a shower and a change of clothes and I was far to scared to concentrate on college work. The threats that he might hurt me were bad enough but the thought that he might hurt Jenny, my younger sister, that didn't bear thinking about. I felt sick to my stomach and could barely function. However, there was one thing I had to do; I had to phone Mr. H, I had to tell him I'd changed my mind about racing. I called the office number and, inevitably, got Tracy.

"Hi, Tracy, it's Ben," I said as soon as she answered. "I need to talk to Mr H, right away."

"What's up Ben? I thought you'd run away like a scared little boy."

"I just need to see Mr H, urgently. Please, it's really important"

"Ooh, really important is it. I'd better find out if he's free. Hang on a sec," there was a pause while, presumably, she consulted Mr. H. "Can you get here for two o'clock?"

"Two o'clock. Yeah, thanks. I'll see you then."

It was one forty-five when I knocked on the office door and went in to find Tracy behind her desk.

"You're a bit early. Take a seat, will you?" She reached for the intercom and pressed a button. "Harold, I've got Ben in the outer office. OK, I'll keep him here."

I guess he only kept me waiting for ten minutes but it felt like an eternity before the buzzer on Tracy's desk went and she told me I could go in.

"'Ello, Ben, I thought we'd seen the back of you," Mr. H said as I entered. "What can I do you for?"

"Please, Mr. H, I need to race again. There's a meeting next week, isn't there. Can I join in? Can I race for you, please?" Even I could hear how pathetic I sounded.

Mr. H sat back and gave me a long cool look.

"And if I say 'no', what happens then?"

"Please, Mr H, I have to." I was starting to panic.

"You have to? Why do you have to?"

"I... I... Please, Mr H." I couldn't help it. I was so scared, so trapped, tears came to my eyes. "Please, don't ask why, I just have to."

"What happened to your cheek?" he asked.

"I... I slipped and fell."

"You slipped and fell and the next thing you're round here begging me to let you race. Someone's been putting the frighteners on you. Let me guess, have you just had a little chat with Archie?"

"I can't... I can't tell you that."

"So that's a 'yes' then."

"Please, please don't let him know I told you."

"He scared the shit out of you, didn't he?"

"Please, Mr H, just let me race."

He looked at me for a while but not unkindly. After a while he seemed to come to a decision.

"OK, the next meet is on Thursday. Seven o'clock at the same pick up point. Can you manage that?"

"Thank you, Mr H, thank you."

"If it is Archie who's behind this then he won't let it stop at that, you know. Did he order you to throw a race?"

"No, he didn't do that. I won't throw any races, honest I won't."

"Make sure you don't. I won't have it. If you're racing then you're racing to win. Is that completely understood?"

"Yes, Mr. H, of course, Mr. H."

"Don't you ever forget it. OK, I'll see you on Thursday, then."

"Thanks, Mr H, thank you."

I made my way back to my digs. For the umpteenth time I wondered what on earth had I got myself involved with. I felt so powerless against all these people.

By the time Thursday evening had rolled around and I was waiting at the pick-up point I was shitting bricks. Still, I didn't dare back out now. The minibus pulled up and I got in along with a couple of others. I recognised quite a few faces from last time and even got a couple of nods of acknowledgement. I wasn't exactly one of the lads but I wasn't quite the outsider I was last time. I curled up in a corner and kept myself to myself. Even Jed left me alone.

Just like last time, when we finally arrived, the minibus was parked inside a warehouse. I'm pretty sure it was actually the same warehouse as last time. It certainly looked the same. There was the same hanging around waiting for the other minibuses arrived and, after the fourth discharged its load there must have been over twenty of us milling around. But not for long; we were soon rounded up and trooped off to the showers. As I got undressed I looked around at the other 'ponies'. They were pretty much the same bunch as the last time. They were all rougher, tougher and all together more street wise than I would ever be. However much Archie wanted me racing I was never really going to fit in.

As we cavorted under the showers there was the usual mixture of horseplay and joshing. Jed came over using the excuse of borrowing the hair shampoo.

"When you weren't here last week I thought you'd run away like the scared little girl you are. I'm glad you're back, You and me, we've got business to settle. You got lucky last time. Next time it's going to be you on your knees with my prick shoved down your throat, got me."

I just looked at him. When compared to Archie, Jed was a mere beginner as a frightener. His threats were the least of my problems.

I was shivering, and not from the cold, when, with the shower over, we put our trainers back on and lined up ready to be inspected and assigned our race numbers. Mr. H treated me just the same as the others and he inspected me just as thoroughly. His list of checks included having me bent over as he examined my arse. He then reached between my legs and fondled my balls but it was all as sexless as a visit to the docs and I got a clean bill of health. While he was doing all this I overheard him talking to the minibus driver about how he wanted me and Jed in opposite sides of the draw. "Jed and Ben in the final, that would be perfect. Half the punters know there's a bit of needle between them so there should be plenty of action," he explained. He finished looking me over so I stood back in line again. He looked at me, smiled and gave me a wink. "Cheer up, sonny Jim, It might never happen." I wasn't so sure.