Sunday, April 7, 2013

SERVICE STATION

By Fledermaus       
   He lounged in the scant shade of the canopy and looked out over the gently rolling, nearly barren hills. Soon the winter chill would fill the air and winds so cold they cut like a knife would blow in from the west, but today was hot. He shifted his weight and the chair, its two back legs forming a tripod with the canopy post, teetered precariously. He tugged at the sweat-soaked cloth in his armpits and unbuttoned his shirt letting it fall back to expose a broad chest and taut abdomen.
Lew wouldn't want him to sit around with his shirt unbuttoned but he could hear the sounds in the garage that told him that his boss was occupied. His crotch itched from the sweat and he dug his fingers into the tight material to scratch the irritation. His fingers caressed the long tube of flesh that lay trapped in a trouser leg and for a moment he considered opening his fly as well as his shirt so that his dripping crotch could also dry out. But he knew he couldn't be sitting there with his dong out if a customer drove up.
Not that he could really be caught by surprise, he thought, looking up and down the deserted road. He could see for miles in both direc­tions and, since the interstate had opened a few months ago, there weren't more than twenty cars a day that stopped at the old service sta­tion for gas. Luckily all of the ranch­ers brought their cars to Lew for maintenance and repairs. That kept him busy enough that he didn't want to be bothered pumping gas so he kept Hank on as gas jockey even when the business fell off.
Hank was bored. The judge had told him that he had a choice. He could go live with an immediate relative or he could go to reform school. For Hank "immediate rela­tive" meant only one thing, his sister who had moved years earlier to this god forsaken prairie with her hus­band. His case worker had contacted her and she had agreed to take re­sponsibility for Hank, but it had taken a lot of pleading on her part before his brother in law had agreed to go along with the plan. And Hank had been informed in no uncertain terms that one misstep and he would be shipped right back east and into the reform school.
He had been glad to get the job with Lew. It had given him some­thing to do during the long hot sum­mer. He was used to the constantly changing scene of the city streets where he had grown up after his mother ran off and his father died. There, as a part of the gang he had always had action. Here the kids his own age shunned him and he didn't go out of his way to make up to them anyway. He knew damn well he had to stay out of trouble — at least for another six months. Then he would be 19 and could leave if he wanted. If he screwed up before then however it was the Reform until he was at least 21.
He looked out over the desolate landscape and yearned to see tall buildings. And most of all he yearned to see crowds of people. He rubbed his aching cock through his pants leg and thought that maybe this was a worse prison than that would have been. At least there he would have found something other than his hand to relieve the pent up pressures of his adolescent body. He closed his eyes and pictured a hunky, good looking kid kneeling on the floor in front of him as he whipped his hard cock back and forth across the kid's face then shoved it into the eager mouth. He could almost feel the hot wetness engulf him. He saw himself bury his hands in the guy's hair and heard him choke as he rammed his head forward over the hard rod. He . . .
The sound of a horn returned his thoughts to reality and his chair almost fell as he jumped. A tiny, red foreign convertible sat next to the pumps and the driver's face bore a knowing smile as he grinned at Hank. "Sorry to disturb you, but I need gas," the guy said.
Hank started to button his shirt, then noticed that the guy behind the wheel wasn't wearing a shirt at all so he figured, "What the hell" and left his own shirt hanging open. He stuck the hose into the car's tank and started the pump. "Check your oil?" he asked.
The stud leaned back in his seat, ran his hand over his hairy chest and looked Hank straight in the crotch as he responded, "I'd like you to check everything."
Hank checked under the hood then began to wash the convertible's windshield. As he peered in through the glass a lump formed in his throat. The guy was massaging the bulge that ran down the leg of his cut off Levis and Hank could see the tip of a pulsating cockhead barely protruding from under the frayed edge of denim. He felt his own cock growing harder and pushing against the front of his uniform.
"That'll be $14.50," he said as he approached the car door. He let his bulging crotch touch the elbow lay­ing on the door and the guy didn't pull his arm away. Instead he pushed it further out and moved his elbow up and down massaging Hank's crotch. It was so good to feel someone's touch on his cock besides his own that he arched his back and pushed his hips forward, pressing against the elbow even harder.
Suddenly the guy pulled his arm away and opened the car door. "I've got to use the john," he said, getting out of the car, a grin spreading across his face. "Why don't you show me where it is?"
Lew rolled out from under the old pickup and glanced out front. He was surprised to see that the little red convertible was still parked at the pumps. It had pulled in better than a quarter of an hour ago. He went out and looked around but was puzzled to find no sign of the driver or of Hank. He rounded the corner and saw the door of the men's room open. A good looking young guy dressed only in cut off Levis came out and hurried towards the car. Lew pushed the men's room door open just as Hank was pulling his pants up around his bare ass.
"What the hell's going on in here?" Lew bellowed. Hank whirled around to face his employer. "I . . . I . . ." he stammered. Lew's hand came up and for a moment Hank thought he was going to slap him. Instead the greasy fingers wiped a glob of milky colored fluid from Hank's cheek. "You Godamned, cocksuckin' queer!" Lew roared. "Get your fuckin' shirt back on and wash that fairy's cum off your face. Then get your ass into my office!" The little room shook as he slammed the door behind him.
Lew sat behind his desk when Hank entered, chin on chest, reluc­tant to look at his boss. "Did you suck that guy's cock?" Lew asked in a low, menacing voice.
"Yes," Hank said softly, still not looking the older man directly in the eye.
"I'm going to have to report that to your brother in law," Lew said.
Hank's head snapped up and the look of humiliation on his face was quickly replaced by fear. "God! No! Please, Lew! He'll kick me out and they'll send me straight into the reformatory."
"You should have thought of that before you sucked that fairy's prick. You need to be punished."
"Please, Lew, punish me any way you want, but please don't let them know. I'll do anything you want."
"Anything?"
"Yes, anything. Anything, but please don't tell them."
Lew sat in silence pondering and studying the handsome kid who stood before him begging for mercy. "You deserve to have your ass whipped," he said at last. "Will you let me whip your ass?"
"Yes, Sir," Hank said softly, chok­ing back the tears. "You can do any­thing you think I deserve."
Hank's heart jumped into his throat as Lew reached for the phone and dialled. "Betty Sue? This is Lew Koren. I've had a passel of work dropped on me today and need to take care of some things tonight. Hank has agreed to stay on and work for me. No, that's OK. He can eat with me, and if it gets too late he can bunk out on the cot in the storeroom. Yeah, tell your husband there's no need to pick him up. He'll spend the night here. Good enough. Thanks. So long."
"Thanks Lew," Hank said, no longer able to hold back the tears. "Thanks for everything."
"Don't thank me yet, kid!" Lew said sharply. "You can thank me in the morning if you still feel inclined 'cause I plan to put you through hell tonight." The sound of a horn came from the drive. "Now get out there and take care of that customer."
It was much later when Lew looked up from the carburetor he was adjusting and saw the youth standing beside him. "Did you close up?" he asked.
"Yes Sir," Hank responded. "I've brought in the oil and stuff and switched off the outside lights."
"Have you closed all of the shut­ters and locked the doors?"
"Yes Sir," he said, his eyes cast down at the floor.
"Are you ready?" Lew asked softly.
"Yes Sir," Hank mumbled and tried to swallow the lump that was forming in his throat.
"Speak up," Lew shouted. "Look me in the eye and tell me what you're ready for and why you deserve it!"
"Yes Sir," Hank said loudly, look­ing directly into his boss' lean weathered face. "I am ready for you to whip my ass."
"Why?" Lew asked after a period of silence. "Why do you deserve to have your ass whipped?"
"Because I'm a cocksucking queer!" Hank said fighting back the tears.
"NO!" Lew thundered. "I'm not whipping your ass because you're queer. I don't give a shit what or who you fuck. I'm whipping your ass because you are so Godamned stupid. I don't care what you fuck, but I do care when and where you fuck. You don't do it on my time or in my place without my permission. You learn to use that shit packed head of yours for something other than holding up your hat. I'm going to whip your ass because you don't have sense to do your cocksucking where you won't be caught! I'm going to whip your ass because you need training! DO YOU UNDER­STAND ME?" By this time Lew was shouting at the top of his lungs, his face only inches from Hank's. The boy was backed up against the side of an old wrecked pickup truck and couldn't escape.
"Yes Sir. I understand Sir. Thank you Sir."
Lew backed away from the youth. "Good. Now let's get started. Strip off your clothes." He leaned on a fender and wiped the grease from his hands with a rag as he watched the body being bared before him.
Hank stripped off his shirt reveal­ing a tanned chest with small but firm brown nipples. He pulled off his boots and socks, then unbuckled his belt. He pushed his pants and underwear down together revealing a narrow band of milky flesh transvers­ing his hips between bronzed abdo­men and thighs. In the center of the whiteness his long, slender, uncut cock hung from a tangled bush of hair. He stepped out of the jeans and stood naked, staring at the floor.
"Hand me your belt," Lew ordered. Hank pulled the wide strip of leather from the loops of his discarded pants and handed it to his boss. "Now fold up your clothes neatly and put them over there on that counter." As the youth obeyed the command, Lew slapped the doubled belt sharply against the palm of his hand a couple of times and grinned to himself as he saw the kid flinch each time the crack of leather broke the silence.
When the clothes were neatly folded and stacked Lew made Hank lay over the tailgate of the pickup with his ass pointing up. He rubbed the folded belt over the white cheeks and Hank quivered. "Ask for it," Lew ordered. When he heard only silence he cracked the belt sharply across the upturned ass and shouted, "Ask for it!"
"Please Sir," Hank shouted sud­denly, "Please whip my ass."
Then Lew began in earnest. Again and again the leather slapped flesh. When he found his tight coveralls impaired his swing, Lew unzipped them revealing a dense mat of curly black hair running from collar bone to navel in the V of the grease stained fabric. As the leather burned his ass, Hank tried to hold still, tried to keep his body from writhing and tried to hold back the flood of tears that threatened.
When the entire milky band glowed pink between the bronze Lew gave the ass one final, resounding lash and raised a long red welt. "Now stand up," he ordered.
Hank stood and his face turned crimson in embarrassment as he stared at the hairy chest of his hand­some torturer and he realized that his cock was standing rigid in front of him.
"What's this?" Lew asked, flicking the tip of the kid's rigid cock with the belt. Hank just moaned as the leather grazed his throbbing cock head. "I asked you a question," Lew shouted hitting the cock harder.
Hank gasped in a mixture of pain and pleasure and said, "My cock Sir."
"Why is it hard?"
"I don't know, Sir."
Again the leather hit the pulsating knob. "You know alright, you fuckin' masochist. Now tell me or I'll beat your cock until it's as red as your ass!"
"It is hard, Sir, because I like hav­ing a big, hairy stud like you whip my ass."
"Do you want more?"
"Yes Sir," Hank said softly.
"Well it's a damn good thing," Lew shouted. "Because you're going to get more. You're going to get a hell of a lot more whether you want it or not! But first we have some work to do. Stand at attention."
Quickly Lew tied the end of a rawhide thong around Hank's ankle, then, leaving about 18 inches of leather between them he tied the other end of the thong to the other ankle. He reached between the muscular thighs and gripped the large scrotum pulling the balls into its depths. Then he wound another thong tightly around the flesh be­tween the youth's balls and his crotch. He tied this securely then tied the end of the training thong to the thong running between Hank's ankles. He ordered Hank to walk around and was pleased to see that, as he had planned, with each step the raw hide gave a downward tug on the imprisoned balls.
"That should keep you from get­ting too frisky," Lew said. "Now get over to that pickup and give it a full lube job and oil change. You'd better be done by the time I finish tuning this Chevy or I'll use a fan belt on your ass for the next session."
As Hank went about his task his head was swimming. This was unreal. He'd had his ass whipped and now his every movement jerked at his aching balls, but his cock stayed stiff. He was being punished, he was being humiliated, and he was loving every minute of it!
From the Chevy Lew glanced up occasionally to watch the naked youth working on the pickup. In his coveralls his own cock ached for relief at the sight of Hank's still hard rod and his leather bound nuts. When he finished with the Chevy Lew went over to the pickup where Hank's bare legs and crotch were all that was visible protruding from under the side of the truck. Lew placed the sole of his booted foot against the bound nuts and spoke. "I'm finished. Are you?"
From under the truck a frantic voice responded, "Almost Sir. I'm almost done. Please don't step on my nuts, Sir. Please!"
"OK," Lew said removing his foot from Hank's vulnerable sac. "I'll give you ten seconds to get out of there. If you're not out in ten I'll grind your balls into the cement. Understand?"
Hank rolled out on the count of eight, his hands black with grease and his face and body liberally smudged with the same material. "Get over to the chain hoist," Lew ordered. He roped the youth's wrists tightly together, attached them to the big hook on the hoist then stood aside and pushed the button. The chains moved and Hank felt himself being pulled up into the air until his bare feet left the grease stained floor.
Lew ran his hand over the youth's taut abdomen, leaving four more streaks of grease among the smudges already there. "I've got one more car to get fixed tonight before I can continue working on you," Lew said. "So you'll just have to hang around and wait." He chuckled at his joke as he got a handful of alligator clips and a roll of wire from the workbench. "But," he continued, "while you're waiting you may as well be useful."
Hank gasped in surprise and pain as Lew let an alligator clip bite into his right nipple then fashioned a hook out of the wire and attached it to the clip. Quickly Lew's hand clipped more hooks to Hank's other teat, to the ridges of skin under his arms, to his chest, to his crotch, and to the insides of his thighs. "I'm go­ing to use you as a tool rack," he said hanging a heavy wrench from the clip on Hank's right tit.
Hank cried out in pain as the weight of the tool hung from his tender flesh and he continued to cry out as Lew continued to hang wrenches, pliers and other tools from the various clips. Finally, as Lew hung a heavy hammer from the loop of wire around Hank's balls the youth spoke. "Oh, please, Sir! That hurts. That hurts bad!"
"I know it does," Lew said taking Hank's now soft cock in his greasy hand and beginning to manipulate it. "It's supposed to hurt. But I want you to take it. I want you to bear the pain while you wait for me. I want you to feel it as I take a tool to use and put it back. But I don't want to hear any sounds from you. Is that clear?"
"Yes Sir," Hank moaned as this cock swelled in Lew's fingers. "I'll try to take it Sir, for you. And I'll be quiet."
"Here," Lew said stuffing a greasy rag into Hank's mouth. "Bite down on this, but don't drop it." Then he turned to the waiting car and began to work. Occasionally he would switch tools, each time jerking again at the clips biting into Hank's skin. By the third time he had used the 3/8 inch wrench and returned it to the hook on Hank's left tit, small trickles of blood came from the jaws of the alligator clamp. But while Hank moaned and flinched occa­sionally he didn't cry out. His cock stood semi-hard, arching from be­tween his legs. Each time it started to go soft, Lew massaged it with his greasy, calloused fingers.
By the time Lew finished and slammed the hood of the car Hank's arms were numb and tears streamed down his grease streaked face. The pain was almost overwhelming, almost but not quite. Watching Lew's muscular body under the tight coveralls, occasionally feeling his boss' oily hands on his cock and continually watching the hard bulge in Lew's crotch kept Hank thinking more about pleasure than pain — and made him want to take anything his Master wished to give him.
Lew removed the tools and the rag, then lowered Hank so his feet again touched the floor. He squeezed the clip on Hank's left tit, releasing the bite and the youth screamed more than he had when it had been put on. But his screams turned to moans of passion as Lew placed his lips on the tortured teat, licking away the small drops of blood where the teeth of the clip had broken the skin and sucked gently.
When all of the clips had been removed, Lew lowered the hoist still further until Hank was on his knees with his bound arms still stretched above his head. Lew stood in front of the naked youth and pulled the zip­per of his coveralls down still further. The V deepened and widened revealing a sweat-soaked, hairy chest. The hair extended between the fabric edges from Lew's promi­nent collar bones down across his taut abdomen, to the barely visible, thick tangle above the huge bulge still concealed by the cloth. "I told your sister I'd feed you," Lew said. "Are you ready to eat?"
Hank looked hungrily at the muscular man before him. "Yes Sir," he said, hoarse with anticipation.
"Then beg for it," Lew said, pull­ing his zipper down the rest of the way and freeing his long, uncircum­cised cock.
"Please Sir," Hank said, "please feed me. Please ram your cock down my throat. Please feed me your meat. Please let me feel your . . ."
But Hank couldn't continue because his mouth was full of Lew's throbbing cock. Lew moaned in pure pleasure as the youth's lips and tongue caressed his cock, pushing under the loose foreskin and caress­ing the sensitive head. He felt the young man gag as he thrust forward, ramming his stiff rod deep into the moist throat. But as he pulled almost out, Hank's eager lips fought to keep the cock from escaping.
When his blood was pounding in his temples and he felt as though his balls were about to erupt, Lew pulled himself free of the demanding mouth. He moved quickly and within seconds had moved Hank's body from where he had been kneeling and draped it over a rack of tires.
The dirty rubber pushed into Hank's chest and stomach, his face almost touched the greasy floor and his wrists and ankles were tied to the legs of the rack. Lew again got the youth's belt and began to flog the upturned ass. From the apex of his ass Hank felt the stinging leather strap move down over his tautly muscular thighs and then back up only to descend again on the other side as it bit again and again into his broad back.
Finally the flogging stopped and Hank felt a grease-coated finger slip into his tight asshole. "Please Sir," he cried out. "I've never been fucked before."
Lew's hand cracked against the buns already glowing from the belt. "Are you telling me you don't want me to fuck you?" he thundered.
"No Sir!" Hank said quickly. "No Sir, I want you to fuck me. I want to feel your hard cock up my ass. But please go easy, please don't rip me up."
"I'm glad you want it," Lew said replacing his finger in the youth's asshole and adding another alongside it. "Because you're going to get it and you'll enjoy it more if you really want it." Then he pulled his fingers out and replaced them with his hard rod.
Hank gasped as the long, solid tube of flesh penetrated him. His arms and legs jerked at the bonds that held him to the tire rack. His ass hurt. His sphincter screamed at the invasion. But it also felt good. And as Lew pounded away, piston­ing his rod in and out of the virginal asshole the pain disappeared and Hank began jerking at his bonds in excited pleasure rather than in painful ten­sion. He loved the feeling of fullness within him. He loved the strong fingers gripping his sides. He loved the feel of Lew's wiry crotch hairs grinding into his tender butt. He loved the sound of Lew's breathing as it became more and more excited. He loved the gasp of pure pleasure that filled the room as Lew filled his intestines with his seed. And he loved the feel of his master's naked body pressing against his as Lew collapsed across his back.
After the glow of the orgasm had passed, Lew got up, untied Hank and then quickly retied him so that he was facing up over the same tires. The dirty imprints of the tire's treads marked Hank's grease smeared torso. Lew finally stripped off his coveralls completely and straddled Hank's head.
Hank looked up into Lew's hairy crotch and breathed deeply of the odors of sweat, cum and male ass. He stuck out his tongue and licked the hairy thighs. Lew squatted somewhat and Hank lapped the sweat from the hairs along the cleft of Lew's ass. Lew leaned forward and his cock, still rank from Hank's ass smeared the youth's lips. Hank licked and sucked at the cock, at the huge balls and at all parts of the sweating, stinking, wonderful crotch that he could get his mouth on.
As Hank ministered to his crotch, Lew took a handful of thick axle grease and coated the boy's throb­bing tool. Then he began to beat the kid's meat, slowly at first then faster and faster until a glob of hot white semen shot out onto the greasy floor and more cum oozed out of the red slit over the grease blackened hand and cock and formed puddles on the grimy abdomen.
Quickly Lew untied Hank and the two of them rolled on the floor in each other's arms, smearing each other's bodies with cum and grease, and sweat and oil and grime. They kissed fiercely, crushing their lips against one another. Hank stuck his tongue into Lew's mouth and the boss held it there firmly with a vacuum and with his teeth. A tongue or a lip began to bleed. They didn't care how or why but they tasted the blood and savored it, allowed it to mingle in their mouths with their saliva.
Finally Lew's fingers closed around Hank's balls and began to squeeze. Hank's arms tightened around Lew's shoulders. He closed his eyes and clenched his teeth as the fingers tightened further. Lew stared into his slave's face as the fingers tightened further. Now Hank was breathing in short breaths, his face a mask of pain. "Take it," Lew said. "Take the pain. Savor it. Take it for me. Take as much as you can. When you tell me to stop I will."
Hank's body writhed in the agony. His fingernails dug into the flesh of Lew's shoulders, drawing blood. His feet and shoulders pressed into the concrete floor and his body stiffened until he had arched his crotch up, pushing his aching nuts more tightly into the torturing hand. Tears streamed from his clenched eyes and he bit on his lips until they bled. Then he opened his mouth and began to scream. He screamed in agony but he would not give the signal. It hurt terribly, he was totally oblivious to everything in the world other than the pain in his balls, the pain that had spread over his whole abdomen and was creeping into his skull. Finally, when he knew he was on the verge of passing out he said, "Please Sir" and the hand left his balls.
Hank sobbed and sobbed, his whole body shuddered as chills raced up and down his spine and Lew held him tightly to him and spoke to him soothingly.
They lay quietly on the cold grimy floor for more than an hour. Feeling each other's bodies — holding each other.
After a long silence Hank pulled Lew tightly to him and said "Thank you, Sir. You wouldn't let me thank you this afternoon. You said I had to wait until you were through giving me what I deserved. Now I'll say 'Thank you' a thousand times over and mean it a thousand times more than I would have this afternoon."
Later, as they stood in the steam­ing shower scrubbing the grease and grime off of each other's bodies they discussed the future. Their future. Together.

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