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Barn Initiation.I had been working at the stables for about three months. It hadn’t been my idea of a perfect job by any means- I had little interest or knowledge of horses. Never ridden one in my life- still hadn’t! But it was situated quite handily- within walking distance if the weather was good.The stables was owned by Mr. Watson, a tall and muscular man in his mid to late fifties. He could be a bit stern at times but was generally a decent enough sort. The person I worked most closely alongside was a guy called Simon- at nineteen a couple of years younger than me. Simon seemed not to like Mr. Watson very much. Often moaning about him about various things, and on certain occasions referring to him rather cryptically as “a fucking old queer” or “an old perv”, without ever fully explaining why.I did have one theory as to why he called him those things. He insisted on us wearing extremely tight breeches, skin tight in fact, which with the crisp white shirts he also insisted upon gave us a rather, well, “gay” look. At first this had made me rather self conscious- always imagining Mr. Watson was looking at my rear end, but over time this feeling had rather dissipated and I now thought little of it.The day in question was a Saturday in October. Simon and I used to alternate working Saturday mornings and having the afternoon off. This week was my turn to work, Simon who lived on site in a large static caravan had gone out for the day. As I attended to my various duties I saw Mr. Watson yozgat escort several times around the place in the company of another man- a man I knew to be a Mr. Erskine, who I’d seen on a few occasions in the past but had never really had much to do with.They were standing talking in the main courtyard as I led one of the mares out to the paddock. I distinctly heard Mr. Watson say “beautiful arse on that”. Mr. Erskine replied “yes, and the horse’s is’nt too bad either!” At which both men laughed. I hurried on, no doubt blushing more than a little. Erskine was a bit younger than Mr. Watson, of a stockier build- quite powerfully built. A little later I crossed the courtyard again and was relieved to see no sign of anyone. Suddenly Mr. Watson appeared at the door of the large hay barn, “Martin, come here a minute please. “Oh no” I thought, “what’s up now”. I entered the barn, my eyes had to adjust a little to the light but I saw both men standing over by the main stack of hay bails, with a rather strange wooden device in front of them. It looked a little bit like a sawhorse with extra pieces- pieces of what looked like padding and straps.”Can you get that old saddle out from behind there” he said, gesturing towards the corner of the barn. I moved past the men and leaned over a few hay bales to see if I could see said saddle. Suddenly I was seized from behind, each man taking one of my arms. Thinking it was some sort of joke I initially didn’t struggle as much as I might escort yozgat otherwise have done. They quickly had me wrestled over to the wooden contraption- fearing the worst (I wasn’t sure what but it couldn’t be good) I began to resist more vigorously but it was too late, their grip om me was too strong and I was pretty helpless. They soon had me d****d over the wooden contraption face down and secured my wrists and ankles with the straps.I thought that it might be their idea of a joke just to bind me up and leave me like that for a while. But within a very short time I felt a hand running across my buttocks. “Mmm… nice”, it was Erskine. “Lets have those off”. Two pairs of hands went in the top of my breeches and yanked then down- catching and hurting my cock as they came down. “What shall we use- hand, crop or belt?” At this a hand slapped my right arse cheek very smartly making me give a little yelp. “Let me go!” I pleaded, feeling about as vulnerable and humiliated as a person can. “Crop, To start with “. A pause, then I heard a crop being swished through the air experimentally. Another pause, a swish and a burst of excruciating pain, then another and another. My arse cheeks felt as though they were on fire. Occasionally there would be a pause and a hand would stroke one or other of my cheeks- the relative coolness of the hand actually came as a brief relief.After a while I could feel my legs shaking- if I was’nt supported I know I would have been quite unable yozgat escort bayan to stand. The men were laughing and joking constantly as they thrashed me. I then heard Erskine say “it’s no good, I’ve got to do it”, soon I felt a hand spreading my arse cheeks and the crop poking at my most private place. Soon this was replaced by something that felt hard. I gasped as Erskine pushed in. This soon gave way to a shriek of pain as I felt him penetrate me more deeply than I thought humanly possible. He began to thrust in rhythmically, grunting like an a****l. In quite a short time I heard – and felt – him cum deep inside me. Using me as a mere vessel for the fruits of his a****listic lust.”A bit of cock will do him good” I heard Mr. Watson say. “Did me better” chortled Erskine. After a short pause I saw a man appear in front of me- Mr. Watson I surmised. He fumbled at the front of his trousers and revealed a large, very erect cock, with an already glistening head. “No, not that” I begged. He tried to shove it in my mouth but I resisted- until he grabbed my nose, forcing me to open it. He quickly placed his cock in my mouth and began to thrust at my unwilling orifice. I gagged and choked but he was as uncaring as Erskine had been at my other opening. Mercifully it didn’t take him long to slake his urge- shooting his sticky wad down my throat. He pulled out, grasped my mouth shut and wiped his slimy cock all over my face. “Ah, that was good you little slut” he said sneeringly. “Time for a drink I think” said Erskine “too right” replied Watson. I heard them walk out of the barn and bolt the door behind them, leaving me alone with my thoughts and my shame. It was the first episode in what would prove to be a VERY long Saturday for me.
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