BDSM Library - Story: Nick\'s Summer, Chapter: Part 1

Nick's Summer

by Emile

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Nick got into his dad's SUV, dreading the next three months of summer holidays. Only minutes before they'd been in the airport, his dad joking along with his lacrosse teammates, slapping him on the back, but now they were on their own.

"Get out of them clothes boy" he barked. "I won't have no uppity college blazers in this car - think you're too good for me, is that it?" He pulled the blazer and shirt over his head, revealing his taut, tanned torso, muscles rippling from a solid year of sport. He'd thickened out quite a bit over the year, and his bulging pecs had sprouted a thick covering of fur. He quickly slid his pants down his tree-trunk legs, until he was just in boxers. "All clothes, boy!" he said, yanking the shorts so they ripped off his tight waist. His thick uncut dong flopped out, the foreskin hugging the glans. Last year he'd already copped flak for his 'garbage hose' and he realised sickeningly that it had grown even larger and thicker since then. His big balls were also hanging lower and covered in fuzz, despite his dad's strict rules. "What's that filthy horsecock boy? You some mule, wid your ugly veiny shit. You ain't shaved boy - big trouble. I'd bet you jerk off every day, pumping that filthy prick - eh?" His dad was strict about coming, said it was the devils work, and he'd gone though the year with aching blue balls, in constant fear of cumming for what his dad would do. Still driving, his dad told him to assume the position. Reluctantly, Nick crouched on the seat, his big feet arched to support his butt, thighs spread wide, and reached back to grab the headrest. Not only did the position leave him completely exposed to his dad and any passing viewer, but to keep balance he had to grip the headrest tightly, to stop him rocking on his feet. Within a few minutes, his body was covered with an oily sheen of sweat from the exertion, and sweat poured from his exposed pits. His dad screwed his nose up at his armpit sweat, and grabbed his dork with one hand, slipping his thumb under the sensitive glans, massaging the foreskin over his nub. His thick dick hardened. It was so meaty that he got light-headed when it was fully erect, and his dad watched gleefully as he struggled to keep balance, his breath and cock under control. It only took a few moments for the thick dork to get rock hard and start drooling pre-cum. With the constant aching need for release, once he was hard he could drool for hours, in throbbing agony. Just as Nick seemed to be getting close, his dad pulled away, wiping his sap covered hand on Nick's thick chest hair. Nick was still bucking against the air, eyes closed, when his dad slipped his hand back, this time under his thigh, smacking his drooping balls out of the way so he could finger Nick's tight hole. Nick hated arseplay - how many other jocks had their pussies fucked hard all summer - but still pushed back on his dad's hands like he was taught. And that's how summer started, Nick drooling scum and impaling himself on his dad's thick roving fingers while they sped down the freeway to the house.

After about an hour of exerting driving, they pulled into the drive. His dad slipped his fingers from Nick's tender hole, and he slipped from his embarassing fucklust, opening his eyes. As usual, the place teemed with people, mostly farm and stable hands, who were all looking forward to Nick's annual visit. Since his 16th birthday, he was fair game on the farm - any of the men no matter how greasy, young or old, could do as they pleased with him, observing only the usual pecking order of the farm. Now getting fucked by and sucking off a dozen guys was pretty bad, but most of them delighted in making Nick really suffer, especially with constant cock control. As they drove in, his dad let him sit back down, the seat squelching with sweat and precum, and threw him his only clothing for the summer - a pair of red satin micro-shorts. The shorts had no elastic, and stayed up only by resting on his dickroot and the curve of his arse, which was fair since there was only enough material to just support his balls from there anyway. The pouch was small, so small that his dick kept sliding out, slapping against his thigh for all to see. House rules were that Nick was to 'be decent' at all times, although he was also forbidden from touching his dick or balls without permission, so if he slipped out, he had to ask a farmhand to tuck him in. Of course the farmhands always demanded payment for the service, in addition to the humiliation it caused, and the free feel-up. He fumbled for the short, his bag and the door, but not fast enough - the door was wrenched open by Lewis, the lead farm hand, who grabbed him by the neck, forcing him to fall to the ground. He landed heavily on all fours, arse in the air, cock dangling for all to see. "Welcome home dickface."he grunted. "You stay like that til I say." He heard the men talk, but didn't dare lift his face from the dirt. Then he felt Lewis' powerful presence next to him, crouching over his naked body. Lewis' hand slid down his back, caressing his wide lats, his buttcheek, fingers just grazing his butthole. Nick gasped in anticipation, but Lewis just chuckled, letting his hand slide further down so he could wrap his fingers around Nick's dangling sac and beerbottle dong. As he closed his fist and pulled down, he leant in and whispered in Nick's ear - "The boys and I have spent all winter comin up with things to do to you boy ... and your daddie's given us a free hand." He was pulling down hard now, and the pain on his heavy nuts and dicktube was intense. "Now school's out, its open season on your sweet body..." With a tug he let go, getting up and ordering to two of the farmhands - "Take this cumdump to the outhouse, we got some work to do!"

The outhouse was a rank shed near the barn - an old corrugated iron toilet block, it was hot and musty and unused - except when Nick visited. The guys grabbed Nick under the armpits, half dragging him to the outhouse. They dumped him in the first stall, above which was scrawled "Shaving Room". They were both at least 6", solid bruisers with hairy chests and leering grins. "You proud of your chest hair boy?" the bigger one asked, scratching his pec. Nick knew the guy - Reb, to be one of the most sadistic fuckers on the farm - who really enjoyed mentally screwing with Nick. Whatever he said Reb would twist it, so he meekly nodded, trying not to show how much his body hair meant to him. Reb backhanded him, saying "Be clear boy. Are you proud, boy? Like you want us to keep it?" Nick desperately wanted to, and so even though he was reluctant, he looked up and said yes. The other grinned. "if you say so boy, then all we gotta do is shave 'Cunt' into the chest hair, and you can keep the rest." Nick was horrified, and blurted out "Agh you'll humiliate me - shave it all off." Reb just grinned. "Whoee boy, you don't get to choose now. It's cunt for you, and just for that, we're not gonna shave, we got some long term hair remover instead. So there's 'CUNT' for the chest, and then your crotch, pits, arms and legs. Thems orders. But first, you can do us a favour..." Reb sat on the throne, legs spread, and hefted his meaty cock out of his pants. It already was leaking tangy precum. He told Nick to blow him, "gym-style". Nick got to his knees in push-up position, fists planted wide so his pumped arms were akimbo and rippled chest exposed. He took the head of the sticky shaft in his mouth, and began rocking back and forward on his fists, deep throating the farmhand. The guys loved it, not only was his sexy jock body on display, arms, chest and tapered back straining, but this way he fucked himself for them, so they could sit back and relax and let him do the work. The guy groaned in esctasy as Nick began vacuuming his dick, and scooted forward, resting his arms behind his head, while Nick laboured to take his long cock all the way down his windpipe. His high tight arse was too much temptation for the other farmhand, and soon Nick felt his wet blunt cockhead pressing against his hole. With no lube but his clear pre-sap, the second guy fed his thick cuntstuffer into Nick's tight hole, letting Nick do the work on his backstroke. Soon they were in a rhythm, fucking Nick hard from both ends as he rocked his musclestud body between them. This was going to be a long, hard summer.

Ten minutes later, their cumslop still leaking from his mouth and arse, they sat Nick on the old toilet spread wide, put on thick gloves and began smearing the gel all over him, except his chest where one artfully traced out the humiliating word. The gel stung his skin, especially his dick and balls, and he cried out. The guys grinned, and slopped some more all over the veiny shaft, slipping goo under the wide foreskin so it was trapped against the sensitive head. To keep him from crying out, one of the guys took off his singlet and shoved it in Nick's mouth. "You can pay for that later". The singlet was dank with sweat which trickled down his throat, joining the stud's cum. The other massaged his dicksleeve, bringing Nick to painful hardon, and played with his sap burping dicklips, making them sting as well. "Welcome home, boy"

Half an hour later, they threw water on his naked body, and his hair fell away, until only his chest with its obscene message was left hairy. His dick and balls looked even bigger without hair, and still ached from the trapped gel under the dickflap. He begged the guys to wash it off too, and Reb reached down, gently frigging his cock with his gel covered glove. "Cumdumps dont get favours". Then the other guy had an idea - hey Reb remember the brown cream Lewis got? - and they began smearing this thick brown lotion over his exposed body. They explained the cream would tighten his skin - so his veins would be in high relief. They even smeared it on his dick and balls, making them painfully contract. The cream was banned in the US - had some pigment dye - but they didn't care. They didn't put any on his chest, so the message would remain his light honey skin colour, and traced around a big arrow starting at his navel, over his abs, with the arrow head ending on the root of his dick, just where the two veins came in. They did the same on his lower back finishing at his arsecrack.

The effect was obscene - when they scaped off the excess gel, he was dark as a mule, except a light tan "cunt" on his chest and two huge arrows pointing at his veiny horsecock and bubble butt. Reb took out a marker pen, and scrawled "Keep me droolin" on his abs, and "Stretch me" on his lower back. "You'll be a busy piggie" they chuckled. Nick, not having permission to speak, could just grunt in humiliation, his hazel-green eyes wide. The farmhands liked it when he was dark tan like this - usually at the end of summer, he looked a bit like a nigger, and they'd have fun taking him places, like the rough bars in town, and letting (other) rednecks have their fun with him.

It was getting late so they threw him the shorts and told him to get ready for dinner. Nick was starved, it'd been hours since he ate, so he pulled on the shorts quickly. The flimsy material slipped from his waist almost immediately, so from the front his smooth abs were exposed to the root of his cock - a good 2 inches of veiny cockflesh arching away from his waist and holding up the cloth. The large arrow showed proudly, pointing out his half naked dick from 20 paces. The line of the cloth was not much higher on his bubble butt, an inch of crack showing, perfect for wandering hands. The rest of his fat fucker hung loosely down one leg, every ripple visible through the cloth, while his low hanging balls dangled down the other, unsupported, they would painfully swing and be slapped by his thighs as he ran (he was pushed all the time to stop him slackening). His smooth, dark tanned body looked even more obscene against his hairy barrel chest - half man's body, half punk's.

The men looked at their watches and told him it was 6.27pm. Since he wasn't allowed in the main house anymore, he had to eat with the farmhands. As the bosses son, he still could eat with the leading hands, but they sat down at 6.30, and if he wasn't there on time they'd turn him away. That meant eating with the ranchers and workmen, who were roughest with him. If he ran, he could make it, but as he turned to leave, Reb grabbed him, holding his arse with one hand, and his head with the other. He gave Nick a long, probing french kiss, kneading his arse through the shorts until Nick's dick began to rise and leak junk. He kept this up for a few minutes, and then let Nick go. Nick bolted to the leading hand's shed, his nutsack bashing against his legs until it was numb with pain. He arrived too late, and they turned him away. He then had to run back to the workmen's shed, on the lower field. By the time he got there, most of the men had eaten. He went to the kitchens, but the men began coming for seconds, shoving him back in the line. He could feel their eyes on him, reading the obscene messages, and the shoves were more calculated - one pushing his jaw, knocking him away, another grazing his chest, scraping hair and dragging on his nips. Soon the guys had finished the food, and he was forced to begging for scraps. The guys had fun with this - Reb gave him a tray and made him ask every table for their scraps. The rough workers showed their contempt for the owners by taking it out on Nick, hawking spitballs into pie and softening up bread crusts by mopping up their armpit and arse sweat. Once his plate was piled high, the guys manhandled him to a place, groping at his unprotected body. It was filled by a burly guy, Jay, and they made him sit on his knee, his arsecheeks pressed into the guy's crotch, and his legs spread so his tackle flopped against Jay's thigh. They decided to play a game - guess who's meal - and so they blindfolded him and tied his arms behind his back. Every guy he got right had to leave him alone for a day. Every one wrong he had to suck. Jay held him in place, his hand cupping Nick's sac, which he carelessly kneaded in his palm, while he fed him the leftovers. Each gross body fluid drenched morsel Jay forced into his mouth, pushing his fingers in until Nick gagged. As Nick chewed and guessed, he idly kneaded Nick's big aureoles, making him arch his back and thrust his tits out. The stimulation and heat of the press of bodies was making him hot and horny, and it became impossible to concentrate on the game. By the time he was finished he was slick with sweat, tits puffy and dick leaking copiously all over Jay's thigh. Jay's iron rod was pressing against his hole, but thankfully he'd guessed right for his sweat streaked piece - he knew Jay's 10 inch cuntstuffer would make him sore for days. By his count he only had to suck off 10 guys.

They pulled the table away and Jay slid him down his knee onto the floor. He was still blindfolded and tied, and Jay made sure his knees were spread wide on the floor, by tying his balls to the chair leg with a shoelace, and then lacing it to his wrists. Pulled tight against the thin lace, he couldn't sit up or move much, his shoulders and balls pulled back painfully. This way his head was pulled back, so the guys could straddle his chest as they facefucked him. Every drop that he didn't swallow of their copious tangy loads slopped onto his chest, matting the hair and coating his tits. He counted 10, 11 cocks, and tried to tell them to stop, but the cocks kept coming. Then he felt Jay's wide fucker sliding down his gullet, and gagged on his dickmeat for 10 minutes, as he thrust balls-deep, until he pulled out, spraying volleys of scum onto Nick's lips and face, chest and abs. By the time they'd finished he's sucked 25 cocks and was coated with rancher cock juice. His stomach was full and churning, his throat raw, lips swollen, and he almost collapsed when they let him go. Jay took off the blindfold and Nick saw him smiling over him, monster cock still hanging half hard and drooling. He tried to plead to stop, but Jay had a spoon, and began dragging it up Nick's body, feeding him load after load of sweat mixed cum. He tried talking but his mouth just burped cum - it clogged his nose, leaked from the corners of his mouth - he was stuffed so full of cum he had trouble breathing, and he passed out.

When he came to, most of the guys had left, and jay had dragged him to the kitchen for the night. He was draped on the chopping block, legs dangled over the edge, spread, his ankles tied to the table legs. His wrists were cuffed to the side rails, so he was completely exposed. He was worried - Jay had no concern for his safety, would try anything. He tried to call out for the other guys, but his voice was hoarse, and Jay just stuffed his rank shorts into his mouth. He scrunched his head down on his chest, as Jay caressed his body, sliding down unimpeded until he grasped his cock. Grinning, Jay revealed a bottle of Tabasco sauce, and he gently frigged Nick until his cock head peeked from its flap. Jay squirted a generous dose down his pisshole and under the skin, thumbing the skin to rub it in, and as Nick squirmed in agony, he squirted more on Nick's puffy aureoles. Nick screamed into the gag but the only noise that came out was a muffled cry. Then, slowly and methodically, Jay pried his arse open and began sliding in large, thick cuke. The cuke pushed at his guts and stretched his arsehole tightly, but with steady pressure, it eventually slid all the way up his chute. Grinning, Jay found another, thicker cuke, and despite Nick's muffled screams began forcing it up his gut alongside the first, until his hole was stretched wildly out of proportion. He smeared more Tabasco on the stretched ring, making it spasm and twitch around the bloated cukes, and then pulled Nick's balls down between his body to hide his handiwork, tying a tight rope knot around them. When he let go, Nick felt a gut-wrenching tug, like being repeatedly kicked in the nuts, as a sack of oranges tied to the rope dropped down, dangling off the edge, cinched to his ballbag. The stretched ballsack also prevented him pushing out the cukes,even if he could muster up the strength to eject a blockage 5 inches at the widest point, unlubed, and tightly pushing against his anal ring. Jay grabbed a roll of saran wrap and wound it tightly around his body and the bench, from his chest to his knees, wedging his itchy tits and cock against his body, and preventing the slightest relief. He walked away and flicked the lights, leaving Nick in darkness and in agony. As he lay there through the night, the maddening itch only got worse, for hours, and the constant pain in his stretched balls and pucker was unbearable.

Lewis found him that way the next day - he'd been sent to track him down, and slapped him awake. He chuckled at the obscenities through the Saran wrap and slowly unwrapped him, ungagging him and uncuffing his wrists at the same time. He stood by and watched as Nick desperately swabbed off the burning sauce and tried to free himself from the other torments, straining forward to untie his nuts until they finally came free, jerking up with a howl. Then, to Lewis' delight, he moved away his dangling sac to reveal th two cukes, and tried desperately to dislodge them. They'd slipped out a little in the night but the sweat made them slippery, and at their widest part they'd both become wedged dry against his arsering. After a few minutes of grunting pain, Lewis came forward and jammed them both back in with one hard thrust. Nick screamed but then Lewis yanked the first out, then the second, leaving Nick's ripped arsehole gaping wide. The ring tried to pucker but a cavernous hole remained, and Lewis whopped at the sight of the ruined hot jock stud arse. He freed his legs and helped him down, but Nick just collapsed, screaming as he hit the ground, arse first. Lewis leant him up against the table, letting him get air. As Nick recovered, he said "The boys all chipped in to buy you a present." He pulled out a thick metal ring from his pocket. "We werent sure of your size, boy, so you'll just have to make do..." It was much thicker than any steel ring he'd seen before, more like a cuff, and squeezed his balls through it, one at a time. It was so wide it stretched the ballsack, and when he let go, the tug on Nick's nuts felt like his balls were at his knees. "We had it made special. The guy said that you can't leave em on long, or they'll stretch the hell out of your pretty nuts, but we just figured, fuck it." Nick let out a moan of frustrated pain, and Lewis laughed, slapping him on the arse. "Now dumbass, get your cunt down to the middle field, Jack wants to fuck you." Nick slipped on the red shorts, his dick pushing them out from his crotch so they covered almost nothing.

Jack was a junior farmhand, only a little older than Nick, and it was particularly harsh submitting to Jack's every whim. Jack was stocky and shorter than Nick, sweated like a hog and spoke like a hayseed. He'd been 17 when he arrived on the farm, and had engineered Nick's downfall, from star son to cum dump in three short years. Now Jack was working on Nick's dad to get Nick's first tattoos - he wanted to cover his shoulders and triceps with pictures of guys getting dicked and fisted. But most of all, he wanted a tattoo high on the back of Nick's neck, just below the hairline - "FISTPIG". It would ruin Nick's life - college, sports - he wouldn't be able to go out in public without the world seeing it. His dad had resisted, and he desperately hoped to get through this summer without any permanent marks.

"Hey dickbreath" Jack greeted him, "your dad's agreed to your first tat! Don't look so down. It's very private, so your college football is safe for now. Just a little picture of a stinking trash can, on your pelvis next to your dick." Nick moaned, and Jack grabbed him under his pit, dragging him to the outhouse. "No time for slacking, the guy's already here. He told me if we hurried he'd chuck in a piercing for free. Now what should it be, ballbag or piss slit?