By ty dehner

It is so fucking quiet; I can only hear my breathing. Seems I am so alone, no one around for miles. This is hard work and my gear is pretty soaked in sweat. I’m tired as shit, Sir is the toughest boss I’ve ever worked for. But the rewards are fucking awesome in the end.

The crew has left for the day, as I see Sir heading down the gravel road in his truck to pick me up. He really gave me the shit job today, literally. Cleaning outhouses is not the glamour job in construction, but as a pad pig, it is my job. Once every two weeks. There are 20 across the sites that Sir oversees. It is amazing how messy these guys are, though I admit I get a little horny thinking of them in their Carhartt’s, boots, jeans and muddy work overalls doing their business in these outhouses. When I work in these I have to wear rubber gloves and gas mask that Sir requires I wear while cleaning. The guys on the crew think I’m nuts for wearing it, but it is required, and I do it. I think Sir has me do it, because it humiliates me some and he likes that on occasion.

This week I’m in my black Carhartt overalls with, of course, my football pants and cup, with my uniform jersey on underneath. Even though it was warm out, I am required to keep my flannel shirt and Carhartt coat on, as well as work gloves. I’m still breaking in my new White’s lace up boots. Sir had them custom done with a small leather strap at the top that locks the boots on. My work uniform is finished off by a Packer’s cap that Sir soaked in his piss before letting it dry. On days that I work hard or am wearing the gas mask my sweat mixes with the dried piss and I do begin to smell!

As Sir stops, I hop in and we kiss, glad to see each other at the end of another day. It has been six weeks since I started this job and things have been well. My training at home has progressed very well and Sir and I workout every evening. On the weekends we have a mix of some rather intense bondage and kink session, while other times, it has been exploring and traveling. One of our best times was the night Sir took me out line dancing, as we were both decked out in our cowboy gear. I noticed the guy’s heads turning at Sir, fuck why not; he looked so hot in his Wranglers and boots. Right now, as we head out to one last site before going home, I look at Sir in his work Carhartt’s, all gold, with his football uniform on under. He wears the same football uniform all week, and then I spend the night smelling them as he wears another set for the next week. I think I’ve gotten so use to it that I wouldn’t be able to fall asleep without it. Looking down at Sir’s boots, I see they are muddy. Sir looks over at me, catching me checking out his boots.

“Don’t worry pig that is your dessert after dinner this evening. I know you’ll have them clean.”

“Yes Linebacker, Sir.”

Shortly, we come to a stop at a very secluded work site. This is where they have just started a new pipeline heading to Winnipeg. Sir has me follow him to the outhouse, opening the door it is the smell is strong with the heat we’ve had the last few days.

“On your knees pig.”

I do as he requests. Sir pulls on a pair of work gloves and grabs my neck, pushing it down into the toilet hole. The stench is even stronger than before.

“Stay there.”

I do and shortly feel my neck and back of my head getting splashed with his warm piss. It runs down my skin into my face and I try to get a few licks because I am thirsty. It also runs down and soaks my shirt back.

“I figured you needed to be cooled off, pig.”

“Yes Linebacker, thank you.”

A final few drips that he allows me to lick up with my tongue and he is finished. Out of his back pocket he pulls out a rubber hood with nose, eye and mouth holes. It slides over my head easily because of it being soaked with piss.

“You got one last outhouse to clean, pig. Get busy!”

I stand to go out and get my cleaning kit. But Sir stops me and turns me towards his face.

“Where you going?”

“Get my kit Linebacker Sir.”

Shaking his head, “No, you’re a pig; clean it with your tongue.”

“But Sir, I can’t,” he is not happy at my response. His gloved hand grabs me by my neck and forces me down and my face into the plastic area behind the toilet seat. It is gross, yellow and sticky. I resist and push back up.

“What the fuck you doing pig?! You’re gonna clean this fuck dump with your tongue! That is an order!”

I struggle more, and my nose is wiping the yellow mess, “Linebacker, please, it is not safe, don’t make me do this.”

Sir kicks me with his muddy boot and slams my face into the plastic. Once it is on the plastic he doesn’t let it up, as his other hand slaps my head over and over.

“Do it pig, fucking follow your order and do it!”

I know I will not win this and slowly my tongue comes out and I start licking the sweet and bitter taste of the dried piss. Sir keeps his grip tight as I make a small dent in the mess. I am very upset for him making me do this. But I do it. As he sees that I am following the order, he releases my grip, exits the outhouse and locks the door behind him. I am so humbled by this and sad, part of me almost cries as Sir has gone too far and I want to get out. Then I feel the plastic structure rock. Sir is bumping it with the truck. I try the door, but he has locked it and I can’t get out. I sit down to protect myself as Sir rams the outhouse hard and knocks it over onto the door side. Sir then starts rolling the outhouse and I crash around inside getting roughed up. I start yelling for him to stop and he continues. Angry doesn’t cover how pissed I am, Sir has crossed over the line more than ever.

The ride home was unpleasant. Sir had me ride in the back, laying down and tied to the four corners of the bed of the truck. He had put a tarp over me to protect me from prying eyes. After getting home, he parked near the shed behind our house. Sir dragged me into the barn, taped up my wrists and strung them up to a beam over me, leaving me standing on my tip toes. He shoved a dirty rag in my mouth and gagged me with more tape. I heard Sir leave to let me sweat in my pissed soaked rubber hood and heavy work clothes. Sir and I need to have a serious talk because this was beyond limits. Sir was pissed with me I know, but I was pissed at him also.

I’m not sure how much time passed until Sir returned. When he did, I almost wanted to cry. He was in his football uniform the uniform that I put on him every night after coming home from work. There was not a night that I had not done that. Now he had suited up on his own, without me. I was still angry, but I was disappointed now that things had come to this.

Sir walked around me, silent, staring at me. I had never seen this look on his face before. He undid my overall and let them drop, and then cut off my flannel shirt and jersey. I begged for him not to cut, but he didn’t listen, and it got me a couple of good slaps on my head. The rubber still on my head was making me sweat, and the gag kept me all be mumbling. Sir walked around out of my site behind me.

Then I felt it, full force, no mercy, the sting was incredible. Sir had struck my back with a heavy flogger, and again it struck, sharp and quick. Over and over, hitting the middle of my back, my shoulders. All I could do was scream into my gag, while helplessly trying to avoid the next blow. Occasionally a strap would straggle and cut across my side and my ass. Up and down my body he went, striking me as hard as I believe he possibly could. With my hands restrained in the air above me I couldn’t move away. Through the rubber of my hood, I could hear him grunting as he swung, the whoosh of the air and the slap as the leather ripped my skin. I was in more pain than I had ever been, but still, what Sir ordered me to do earlier was wrong. I was angry and hurting.

The flogging stopped as Sir walked in front of me, grabbing my chin tightly in his gloved hand. “Fucking pig, how dare you not follow an order? You are owned by this Linebacker and you know it!”, he yelled as he spit a large wad on my rubber covered face. “This isn’t some gawd damned fantasy; this is your life pig. You wanted this as much as me!” He spit again, as he laid the flogger on my shoulder.

“You think I would do anything to harm my pig?! Fuck, it pisses me off to no end that you dared to think that! You need to trust your Linebacker, after all that we’ve been through. Shit, that was my piss on that outhouse, fucker! I had been going there for the past two weeks to make sure it was nice and ready for my pad pig to clean for me. You know how fucking proud I was going to be of you for doing it. I knew you’d do it with no questions.” Sir falls silent, looking away, tightly squeezing my face in his hand then pushing it away. He pulls off the flogger and strikes my chest with it. The force releases air from my lungs and I choke on the gag.

I realize that I was wrong not to trust him. After all that is what this relationship is all about, trust. How can I give myself to a Man that I wouldn’t trust with my life? After all he has never done a thing to hurt me.

Another blow to the chest, it stings and makes me scream in the gag. At that point, the anger in me is escaping and now I feel worse because I let my Linebacker Sir down. As he stood before me, striking me with the flogger, I could see the anger and disappointment in his eyes. At one point I believe I even noticed a tear or two in his eyes. That is when I lost it and broke down. Sir walked behind me and started whaling on my back to emphasis his ownership of me as I became totally owned by him.

“Pig, you are mine, no one will ever own you as I do. You know this is your life, as it is mine. But don’t ever fucking question what I order you do to again. Next time, you will not have a second chance, you will be gone.”

With that there was one last massive strike and I screamed out in pain. Coming before me, Sir could see my red eyes streaming tears down my rubber covered face. Sir removed the gag and before I could say anything, “I love you pig.” was all he said as he kissed me deeply. I broke down more, wanting to hold my Linebacker tightly, but unable because my hands were still restrained above my head.

“I think we have some training still with you. It is a shame, because it deprives me of you. But it is the sacrifice your Linebacker makes to make you better.”

“Thank you, Linebacker Sir,” was all I could barely muster from my dry lips.

Leaving my hands restrained, Sir walked me back to the house and into our workout room. Here was where we worked out nightly after work. As I walked passed the mirrors, I could see the damage on my back. Mostly a deep purple red, there were small cuts from the beating that Sir gave me.

“I want you in your workout gear, pronto. I’ll be back.”

As Sir leaves the room, quickly I remove my work uniform that is in tatters and start putting on my workout gear. This is football pants with pads, cup and jock, cleats, workout shoulder pads, jersey and gloves, with a helmet that Sir locks on. As I dress, I feel the burn in my back and the pain as the workout pads rub on my tender skin. I kneel and await his return. When he does return, he immediate locks a 3” leather collar around my neck a bit too tightly. As I open my mouth to mention it is too tight, Sir looks at me with a look that questions if I really want to say something. I can still breathe so I keep quiet. After removing my helmet, Sir attaches a leash, walking me out of the room on my hands and knees.

We go outside to the area beside the bedroom. There is a large hole dug. Sir orders me to stand, and I do. As he starts to duck tape my arms and legs, he explains,

“I wanted to wait to use this bit of fun until our barbeque in a few weeks, but you need some more training, and this will work out well. Think of this as your box outdoors, you don’t get out until I tell you.”

After done restraining me, Sir pushes me to the hole. Helping me in, I fall deep into it. When I stand, my head is clearly above ground. Grabbing a hose, Sir starts filling the hole with water, but to about my knees. I keep silent, for I know that I must trust him, but I am scared and hard at the same time. Then Sir starts shoving dirt into the hole around my feet, mixing with the water to create a think mud. He keeps filling until the dirt is above my waist. Sir then climbs down in the hole and packs the dirt tightly with his cleats. At times I can lick his crotch with my tongue, tasting the smooth nylon of this football pants. Climbing out, more water and dirt is added until it is solid around me up to my shoulders. Sir then takes some bricks and lines the area tightly around my neck. Grabbing some of the mud, Sir cakes my entire head with the mud. Not a light covering, but over an inch think, as it is heavy on my head. He explains he doesn’t want me getting sun burned. I thank him.

“Since it is the weekend, you can spend your time there. Think about your service to your Linebacker. If you have questions, then perhaps this is not right. But if you are ready to fully trust me, then we will have a great life, pad pig.”

He leaves then returns with his muddy work boots and a large spoon.

“You still have some work to do. Here are my boots; they are to be clean by the time I return. The spoon will help you move them around. Get busy pig.”

Sir drops the boots and spoon before me before and leaves. With my teeth and tongue I get a hold of one of the laces and drag the boot to my lips. It is going to take a long while to work the mud from these boots, but I will do it. I need to make my Linebacker proud of me again and let him know that I am his, no question.

It took hours to make any headway on those boots. My mouth was full of dirt and little rocks, I was thirsty as hell and the mud on my head had hardened in the Alberta sun.   There was little light left and Sir finally came to me, still in his workout uniform. From the marks of sweat, I could tell he had done his workout. He had a water bottle and set it down to where I could reach it with a small straw coming from the top.

“Figured my asshole pad pig might need some refreshment.”

Sir then went to the shed and brought back a large metal tub and put it over me, enclosing me. Tapping on the tub, “Good night pig.” I heard his footsteps as they disappeared into the night.

Working my way to the water bottle, I took in the biggest gulp I could, then choked when my tongue realized that the bottle was filled with Sir’s piss. In the end, he always got his way.

But I took it down; for it gave me the moisture I needed to finish Sir’s boots. My jaw was aching from the workout it was getting but I was not going to let him down this time and those boots were going to shine like never before. Digging the dirt from the crevasse of his soles was difficult. The easiest was soaking and chewing on the laces to get them clean. I never knew how many hours passed. But I knew there was a thunderstorm that roared through at one point. The pounding of the rain on the tub was horrible, as the ground water would seep under and run down my body making the hard dirt around me slightly soft. At times I wish I was uncovered for it would’ve washed the weight of the mud off my head. But I continue to work on the boots.

Over time, I knew the sun had risen for there was a sliver of light under the tub and gradually the heat increased. It became stifling hot under the tub, but still I had to work on the boots. Small section by section, using the spoon to move them, slide them, turn them, I cleaned the caked-on mud. Conserving the piss that Sir gave me for only when I needed it most. In the warmth my sweat was causing the hard mud on my head to soften. But there was still more cleaning to do. The heavy mud was gone, now the details. Over and over my tongue worked each patch of leather, rubber and the metal of the eyelets. I was getting to know these boots more than any other pair I ever met. The crevasse where the leather is sewn to the sole needed long attention of soaking and licking. At times I became frustrated that I would never get them to the point that I wanted, for I was always on my own case to improve and be better. I wanted to impress Linebacker more than anything, to make him be proud of me again, to love me more than ever before.

The hours passed, and things started to cool down. That had to mean the sun was setting and the day turning to night again. I had long since given up and pissed into the dirt surrounding me. I could move my body slightly, but the weight of the earth was all around me. The boots were beginning to look good, as I realize I was getting tired. Once my jaw had a muscle spasm that hurt like hell, but I had to go on. The piss in the bottle was gone so I had no choice but to dry lick the boots. Chewing on the laces gave me some saliva at times to moisten my mouth again.

I woke to find a pool of spit beneath my chin, a lace hanging from my lip and a uniformed Linebacker standing over me, blocking the sun. His cleat went under my mud caked chin, lifting it up slightly.

“Good morning, pig.”

He had removed the bricks and sat down with his crotch in my face. His dick and balls were outside his pants, laced up tightly. Sir patted my head with his lineman gloved hand.

“Pig, I’m very impressed with the job you did on my boots.”

“Thank you, Linebacker Sir.”

“You think you understand why I did all this?”

“Yes Sir, I was wrong, and I realize that. I trust you and always will.”

“Good pig, I care a great deal about you and will never let anything happen to you. You understand?” he asked as he lifted my chin to look him in the eye. “You are more important to me than anyone has ever been. Yes, I own you, but you also own me.”

With that, he bent down and kissed my muddy lips.

Smiling, “Mmmmm, not bad pig, just the taste you should have.”

That caused me to smile. As I opened my mouth to say thank you, Sir grabbed the back of my head and shoved his cock deeply down my throat. I closed my eyes and started to suck on my Linebacker tool. Sir held my mud caked head tightly between his smooth football panted legs, pounding his dick over and over into my mouth. This was the first pure pleasure I have had in days and it was wonderful. The only part of my body I could show my love was with my mouth and I did. Sir always enjoyed my mouth and now I am sure he loved it even more. I was totally helpless deep in a hole in the Alberta earth, bound and muddy.

“I’ve missed you pig, don’t ever fuck up again, because I can’t stand it!”

With that he had a few more thrusts and shot his load down my throat. Wrapping his arms around me head, he cradles me with his head next to mine. Beginning to lick the mud from my head, Sir worked much of it off, before giving me a deep mud coated kiss.

© Copyright 2018 by ty dehner

To be continued …

Metal would like to thank ty dehner for sharing this story!