Young And So Evil, Chapter 8


by Muscleche <Flexhold@aol.com>

YOUNG AND SO EVIL, Chapter 8

Hisssnappp! Hisssnappp! "Faster, run faster, slave"

Aha, the early morning reveille is so invigorating as I deeply breathe in the fresh air and survey the plantation's acres of gardens leaning back in the saddle on one of my frequent runs. My mile long rides require a special saddle. My mount is the glistening bareback saddle of all the incredibly strong, young muscles of Marco's rock-hard highly veined arms and his superwide torso, a writhing muscular roadmap of backbone veins flowing out across the expanse of his flared stinging latissimus muscles.

Actually, Boris came up with this one of many ingenious ways I can joyride our slaveboy. And if you know Boris, you know that this hardride is producing the maximum of tortured pain and backbreaking strenuous labor on Marco. A little bondage and an abundance of acute agony make this one of my favorite daily moments with Marco.

Marco provides all our transportation needs as we ride herd on our stud, the able-bodied workhorse slave. I favor being carried so that Marco's dark tan, silken smooth skin over his rockhard array of finely etched, super defined muscles are in direct contact with my much smaller wimpish self. The irony is that a boy who stands over 6 feet tall, weighing over 190 pounds with muscles that stretch the tape at 55 inches across the square flattops of his powerful pectorals, yet taper down to under 27 inches across the impossibly narrow waistline of solid muscles and tendons would serve as a human carriage to a 5'5", 130 pound, skinny brat who has a razor thin long rawhide quirt in hand.

Hisssnappp! Hisssnappp! Hisssnappp!

The blows come raining down across Marco's hard pumping thighs and rockhard melons of muscleboy ass. This is where I can reach areas of Marco's body vulnerably exposed to the ultra thin lash of the whip. The whiplashes painfully bite into the denuded succulent anus or crack hard against the smooth goose egg testicles spread wide under the heavy steel ball collar and elicit short screams as Marco, in full gallop, races full force, his near winded lungs steadily heaving with 130 pounds of cruel cargo on his teenage back.

This morning I chose the 'piggyback' carry. It's not quite what Marco was accustom to as a kid, but rather is customized to exact maximized physical exertion and punishment. We simply tie thin leather cords around Marco's wrists and elbows, attaching his right wrist to his left elbow and so forth. Only the boy's 19 inch biceps are forcibly tied behind his back. The bondage pressure points are quite exquisite as they force Marco's thickly muscled trapezius and deltoid muscles out exposing the finely detailed spinal column as his lats flare in a writhing pump.

I approach Marco with the reins and watch his usual grimace. His so handsome blue eyes quickly look to the side as his now pumping chest muscles betray the boy's absolute dread. Marco smooth, dark tan chest is a wonder of defined male muscularity topped off with the magnificence of his silver dollar nipples protruding across the pectoral peak as the muscle folds a deep cut. Marco's broad chest is low on an equally long, lean muscled torso. Every muscle fiber comes alive as he breaths deeply, his thick teats swell as I lick my tongue over these orbs of masculine beauty, sucking them deeply while Marco moans in pleasure. I milk his twin tits squeezing them brutally between thumbnails and forefingers and then reach for the reins attached to my whip belt.

"Kneel." I whisper looking up into Marco's big blue mesmerized eyes.

Marco immediately bends into a half genuflect, his left thigh constricts in hard muscle as he squats down, leg out to the side, his right thigh sideswings out straight revealing the cords of hamstring and quadriceps muscles, only the ball of his foot and his long delicious toes allowed to touch the ground. In this position his manly chest is at convenient height as I unsnap the alligator clips from my short's belt and squeeze them slowly. Marco responses to the creaking noise of the 4 inch long steel tit clips with a sigh of misery knowing fully well how the 'teeth' exert 50 pounds of piercing pressure onto his huge young and ripe nipples.

I hold the two open clips directly to the sides of his now slick with sweat pea-size teats, the metal rubs up against the smooth areolas and cause Marco's pec striations to involuntarily flex in bold relief. You cannot only see but actually hear the heavy pounding thump of Marco's heartbeats as his massive chest rises and falls in deep breathing, his wet tits awaiting the abrupt release of the savage device. The clip's instantaneous snakebite is like two heavy hammers striking as the razor sharp teeth snap shut onto the twin orbs of boytit. With eyes shut, the sharp handsome jaw slightly quivering, Marco suffers as the pain overwhelms.

"Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"

The snap of the clip's viciously biting teeth create immediate and sustained throes of shooting pain. Marco's head arches back as he attempts to adjust to the now familiar, but always surprisingly excruciating pain, his mouth still open, but voiceless as he mentally accepts all of this agony for his father, as he and his father serve their sentence, one a framed convict in solitary confinement, the other a peasant slave on a plantation that is worst that any penitentiary. Two prisoners of one evil family. One member of that wicked family, ME, daily enjoying the complete fullness of _s_e_x_ual lust in it's most perverse practice.

I circle the 'heman-boy.' bracing myself against Marco's wide back as he painfully extends his near tourniquet bound forearms coursing with tied veins, and I slip my bare legs around his permanently naked torso, settling my butt into the bound saddle of muscular arms and slowly lay my body against the massive back. My smooth face rubs against Marco's slight stubble as I kiss his sharp jaw and lick deeply into his ear. As I reach down and take hold of the rawhide reins I pull out the 3 foot leather quirt and,

Hisssnappp!

"Up, boy."

The quirt's blow to Marco's long 9 inch semi-flaccid _c_o_c_k_ is a painful reminder of this morning's thrashing at breakfast and the realization that the long hot day is only just beginning. My weight on his back causes him to bend slightly, his lower back arches out to reveal his plumb, smooth boy butt. The contorse strain on his wide 'brickhouse' shoulder muscles blends with the stinging bite on his nipples as I pull the reins and,

Hisssnappp!

"Run, slave, run."

Call me old fashioned, but I still think that modern machinery, like tractors and motors are just plain too loud, polluting and, frankly, boring. Give me a horsecart, a plow, a capstan and I will be perfectly content. That's why I sold off of all that unrequired equipment as well as the plantation's few horses and livestock. Who needs them when I have Marco as my beast of burden.

You can well imagine Marco's surprise the day he was harnessed to the heavy wooden yoke and plow.

The wooden half collar of the yoke encircles his back neck, his arms are extended up and out to the ends of the short wooden poles that angle at 45 degrees and are manacled at the wrists. This position was specifically our focus as Boris and I devised the boy's yoke. Marco's arms are raised in a double biceps pose, the baseball biceps are stretched across paper thin skin as the muscles cut a deep divide between his muscular shoulders and lightly haired, sweet tasting armpits. Extended from the thick wrist cuffs are two 5 foot lengths of heavy chain that are attached to an even heavier, thick iron plowhead chain fastened to the heavy blade. Boris grabs hold of the two wooden handles that guides the plow and with a loud snap of his 8 foot long horsewhip yells out,

"Plow, boy!"

Marco's first steps are a bit awkward as he bends slightly at the waist and begins to move two hundred pounds of heavyduty metal, the sharp blade halts and jerks digging deep into the rocky soil. Boris loudly snaps his horsewhip over Marco's right ear and taking hold of the much lengthened reins pulls sadistically.

"Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"

The sawtooth tit clips painfully yank on Marco's teats, the vicious bite causes him to howl as he experiences each of the teeth hungrily inflict new torment.

Thwackkk!

Boris' whip crashes down across Marco's back, the last 2 feet of the horsewhip wraps around the slaveboy's broad torso and slams into his already inflamed right nipple at over 100 miles an hour and draws the first blood of the day as the teat is rhythmically jerked.

"Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"

Marco slowly moves forward, his toes dig into the soil as he musters all his magnificent manpower. I stand in front of him walking backwards, my _c_o_c_k_ hard in my shorts as I watch Marco's agonizing body of fully flexed muscle suffer. Marco's eyes widen in horror as I pull the long cattleprod from my belt. As his steps close in towards me I watch how his long flaccid 7 inch _c_o_c_k_ bounces and sways against his straining legs, the prick's thick arrowhead barely poking out from his soft foreskin.

Sizzzzzzzzzzzz! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"

Marco jumps into the air, his blistered _c_o_c_k_head crazily swinging as the jolts of electricity shoot up his bigboy penis.

Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"

"I said MOVE, plowboy" as Boris' horsewhip slashes across the boybutt muscles.

"It's only 7 a. m.; you've got 12 more hours at the plow."

Thwackkk! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"

Sizzzzzzzzzzzzz! "Aaaaiiieeeaaahhh!"

And, thus the day continues.

To be continued . . . .


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