By Zac Loughty

This story is about adults, to be read by adults only.

The author would like to thank his Discipline Monitor for his ‘encouragement’ to get this story finished, and for proofreading this story.

It’s time for Chase (rien) to GET TO WORK!

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

What the…

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

It’s the blast from an air horn!

“Up and at ‘em, subs! Get your asses up and over to the stanchion!” Russ yells.

All we can do is moan and groan in response. Um… how are zero and I gonna go anywhere?

HOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONK!

“Get moving! Don’t make me use the motivator!” Russ threatens. “Everyone over to the stanchion except rien and zero.”

Good! Zero and I are excused. We get to sleep in.

Zilch untangles himself from zero. Nada lets go of me and gets up.

Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink. Clink.

The rattle of chains announces that our fellow subs are leaving us, making their way over to the stanchion.

Chunk. Clash. The padlock is unlocked, and the latch flipped over.

GROOOOOOOOOOAN! The gate creaks open.

“Time to get you worthless subs out of the instrument so you can eat and be put to work!” Burly says, coming up behind us.

“Thank you, sir,” both zero and I say at once.

Burly gets behind zero and Stache gets behind me. They help us get to our knees. Burly unlocks both padlocks and removes them. He opens zero’s side while Stache opens mine.

We finally have the use of our hands again. I roll my shoulders and swing my arms. Zero does the same. I’m stiff as a board.

“Did you two learn your lesson?” Burly asks.

“Yes, sir. We won’t be fighting anymore, sir,” zero offers.

“Yes, sir. We’ll obey orders from now on,” I promise.

“Good. Now, get your asses over to the stanchion so you can eat breakfast,” Burly orders.

Zero and I get up and head to the stanchion. Our fellow subs are already kneeling in front of it. Zero and I join them.

“Get your heads in there, subs!” Russ orders.

I stick my head between the slats. Moo.

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak!

Our heads are trapped again. I wonder what we’re gonna get for breakfast.

Burly and Stache come up behind us and cuff our hands again. I guess they don’t want us slipping our hands through the slats and using them to eat. Hell, no! That would be too dignified!

We wait and wait. I now know that Burly and Stache are retrieving the cart from the kitchen in the house.

Zero’s head is resting on the shelf. I guess he’s fallen back asleep.

Finally, Stache and Burly appear with the cart. It’s another steaming pot of something.

“You’ll be having oatmeal for breakfast, subs!” Russ announces. “It’ll stick to your ribs. More importantly, it’ll provide you with calories so you can get to work!”

A dog bowl of oatmeal is put in front of me.

“Eat up, subs!” Russ orders.

Okay, hamburger is one thing. This is gonna be messy! Oatmeal’s gonna be sticky and gooey. I tentatively stick out my tongue to try to get some without sticking my whole face in it. Thankfully, it isn’t too hot.

Eww! There isn’t any sugar or flavor. It’s just plain, bland oatmeal. Yuck!

“Dive in there, rien!” Russ orders.

I stick my chin in the mess but try to keep my nose out of it. This isn’t easy!

“I SAID, DIVE IN THERE!” Russ puts his hand on the back of my head and shoves my face in the bowl. Thankfully, I closed my eyes just in time. I’m buried in oatmeal.

Luckily, he doesn’t keep his hand there… he lets me come up for air.

I come up sputtering. I inhaled some oatmeal. I need to blow my nose to clear it out.

“Chow down, sub!” Russ orders.

Oatmeal is dripping off my eyelashes. I stare into the bowl. Eww! There might be boogers in it!

WHOMP!

“OW!” I yell. That fucking motivator just slammed into my right butt cheek.

“EAT!” yells Burly, wielding the motivator behind me.

I’m too shocked to respond.

WHOMP!

“OW!” Yeah… left butt cheek.

“I SAID… EAT!” Burly screams again.

I stick my face in the oatmeal and start chewing and swallowing. I hope I don’t vomit. They’d probably make me eat that too! Fuckers! At least the motivator stops plowing into my behind.

After seeing what happened to me, my fellow subs bury their faces in their oatmeal and chow down as quickly as they can. We look ridiculous with our faces covered in oatmeal. I can’t wait to wash this shit off.

I lap up as much oatmeal as I possibly can. My tongue is kept busy licking the sides of the bowl. Finally, I’m done… I can’t get any more.

Russ comes down the line retrieving the dog bowls. Every sub has learned to lick his bowl clean.

“Listen up, subs! When I release you, go wash your faces. Well… everyone except rien. You need to wear your oatmeal all day. That will teach you to be so fussy!”

Crap! I hafta wear this shit all day?! Gross! I’ll look like I puked on myself!

“Go ahead and brush your teeth. Use the shaver. Take a shit if you need to. There’s a shitter outdoors, but it won’t smell too good. You have 15 minutes.”

15 minutes! How the hell are we all gonna be able to wash our faces, shave, brush our teeth, AND take a shit if we need to?

Burly or Stache removes our cuffs.

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak!

My head is free of the stanchion. I back out and stand up. I let the other subs use the tiny sink first. At least they can get the oatmeal off their face. I feel my oatmeal mask drying. Yuck! We brush our teeth, taking turns spitting. The guys pass around the shaver. I can only shave my neck cuz of the oatmeal.

“I’m sorry, guys… I really gotta go,” zip announces.

We hurry to get out of his way. As he pulls down his pants and sits on the shitter, the rest of us head to the far end of the pen. Who wants to watch a guy take a shit? Eww!

I know I’ll need to shit soon. I’ll just have to use the one outside. Crap!

“Time to get to work, subs!” Russ yells. “Get out of your pen and line up!”

We file out of the pen and form a line. Zip flushes and hurries to join us.

Russ, Stache, and Burly are facing us.

“There’s a jug of sunscreen on this table here,” Stache tells us. “Use it!”

He looks at me.

“Wipe that shit off your face,” he says, throwing me a towel.

I get the oatmeal off as best I can. Why didn’t they just let me wash it off?

We all gather around the jug. When the pump is depressed, it delivers a glop of the stuff. I cover my neck, ears, and face with it.

“As you exit the barn, grab a wheelbarrow. There’ll be a shovel in it. You’ll also find a pair of work gloves. Use ‘em. Follow me,” Russ directs.

I tag along behind my fellow subs. There are five wheelbarrows lined up by the barn door. I pick one, put on the work gloves laying in it, and fall in line steering the wheelbarrow. Russ takes us to an area behind the barn. There are piles of dirt or mud about 4’ high. There are numbers sticking out of each pile.

“You’ll note that there are piles of mud with numbers on them, subs,” Russ points out. “Zero, your pile is number 1; zilch, pile number 2; zip, number 3; nada, number 4, and rien, number 5. A few hundred yards away, you’ll find numbered empty areas. Your job, subs, is to move your mud pile to the empty area matching your number. Are there any questions?” Russ asks.

Yeah. Who was the genius that thought up this brilliant exercise? I mean, what a waste of time! No one has any questions. They’re probably afraid to ask.

“Get to work, subs! No talking! Just work! If you stop working, the motivator will be applied to your butt!” Russ warns.

I HATE that hunk of wood called the ‘motivator’! Clink! Clank! Jingle! Clink! I guide my wheelbarrow down the row of mud piles until I find number 5. Behind my mud pile is mud pile number 10. I hope I don’t have to move it too.

Crap! How long is this going to take? All morning? Probably. The pile’s about 4’ high. I’d say it’s about 10’ across.

I struggle to calculate how many trips I’ll need to make with the wheelbarrow to move all this mud. What formula could I use? The pile isn’t really in the shape of a half sphere. It’s more like the shape of a normal bell curve. But how do I compute the volume under a 3-dimensional bell curve?

WHOMP!

“OW!” The motivator just slammed into my right butt cheek.

WHOMP!

“OW!” Yeah, that was my left one.

“What in hell do you think you’re doing, rien?” Burly yells. Wow! He looks really pissed!

“I was just calculating how many trips I’ll need to make with the wheelbarrow to move all this mud, sir,” I answer, rubbing by behind.

“You aren’t here to calculate anything, rien!” Burly informs me. “You’re here to work! You’re here to stick your shovel into that pile of mud and empty your shovel in the wheelbarrow until the wheelbarrow’s full. Then, you wheel it over to your empty area and dump it. Then, you come back here with your empty wheelbarrow and do the exact same thing again and again until this pile is gone. Do you understand what you’re here to do, sub?” Burly asks.

“Yes sir, I understand, sir,” I reply sorrowfully. I was just trying to mentally prepare myself for this idiotic task!

WHOMP!

“OW!” What the fuck was that for?

“Then start working, sub!” Burly yells.

WHOMP!

“OW!” I’m working! I’m working! Geesh!

“Yes sir! Beginning to work, sir!” I shout. FUCK! Quit hitting my sorry ass with that fucking hunk of wood!

I stick my shovel into the mud pile. Yeah, it fills up with mud fairly easily. I extract the full shovel from the pile. CRAP! This shit’s heavy! Note to self: don’t fill up the shovel so much! I dump it in the wheelbarrow.

Thump!

I gotta watch how full the wheelbarrow gets. If it gets too full, I won’t be able to move it anywhere.

WHOMP!

“OW!” NOW what?

WHOMP!

“OW!” Quit hitting me!

“Move it, sub! You can’t take all day. We have other projects for you!” Burly says.

“Yes sir. Speeding it up, sir,” I reply. Fucker! What do you care how long it takes me to perform this stupid task?

I return my shovel to the pile, don’t let it get so full, and dump it in the wheelbarrow.

Thump!

I repeat the process again and again. I just want Burly to go away! Go bother someone else, dude!

Finally, he goes away. Yay! Take that fucking motivator with you!

I don’t count the number of shovelfuls I dump in the wheelbarrow. Eventually, it appears full enough to consider it a load, but not too full to move. I grab the handles of the wheelbarrow and lift it…

Oof! Mud is heavy!

I push on it until it moves. I maneuver it around pile 10 and begin searching for the empty area labeled 5.

Clink! Clank! Jingle! Clink! My chain keeps jangling with every step. You know guys, if you really wanted us to move this shit efficiently, maybe don’t chain our feet together! Geesh!

I see the area with a 6’ tall pole in the middle of it. It’s labeled with a large number 5. Hurray! I now know where I need to dump this shit.

It takes some coaxing to get the mud out of the wheelbarrow. I dump the load against the pole.

Then, it’s back for another load. Great! One down, um… however many more fucking loads to go. All I hear out of my fellow subs are the thump of shovels being unloaded into wheelbarrows and chains rattling as they travel to their empty areas. As I roll back toward my mud pile, I try to calculate how long this shit’s gonna take to get done. Maybe five minutes per load? Twelve loads per hour? How many hours? Crap!

I don’t know what time we started working. It was pretty early. Maybe 7 AM? It isn’t too hot yet. I hope we’ll be able to remove these shitty shirts when it gets hot. I want to see the guys sweating as they work. I glance at my fellow subs as they shovel. My dick attempts to get hard. It can’t help it. It’s a sexy scene. All the guys are working hard, and their chains keep rattling away.

I fall into a routine. It’s as if I’m a robot. I try not to think at all. Shovel, wheel, dump, return, repeat. I do try to keep track of the number of wheelbarrow trips I make, though. I gotta keep seeing that light at the end of the tunnel.

I’m returning from trip 10 when I hear…

“Water break!” Russ yells. “Get your asses over here, subs.”

We all gather around Russ. He’s holding a hose. Water’s gushing out of it.

“Help yourselves, subs! If you gotta piss, do it along the side over there. The shitter’s behind me,” Russ instructs.

I don’t see any shitter. I’m gonna need it soon.

We take turns gulping water from the hose. We screw around a bit getting each other wet, but Russ doesn’t seem to care.

I don’t know how long our break lasts. Maybe ten minutes? Not sure. We sit and quietly commiserate with one another. We all seem to agree that this sucks.

“Okay, subs! Get back to work! Break’s over!” Russ announces.

We all groan and return to our piles of mud.

Shovel.

Thump!

Shovel.

Thump!

Shovel.

Thump! Until the wheelbarrow’s full enough to take over to the empty area.

Clink! Clank! Jingle! Clink! All the way over to the empty zone.

Whoosh! As the mud plops out of the wheelbarrow.

Clink! Clank! Jingle! Clink! All the way back to my mud pile.

Repeat.

What a pain in the ass!

I only get in 9 more loads before the next water break. This time, we get an energy bar! That helps.

Then, it’s back to work. I’m beginning to get sweatier. I’m sweating under my cap. My neck’s sweaty. This is hard work!

I have another problem… blisters. They’re beginning to form on my hands even though I’m wearing gloves. My hands aren’t used to this.

I accomplish 10 more loads before the next water break. Must be the energy bar. Ha! Ha!

I hate to admit it, but I need to take a shit. I wonder what kind of an ordeal this will be.

“Excuse me, sir,” I say to Russ. “I need to use the shitter, sir.”

“Help yourself, sub! It’s waiting for you over there,” Russ tells me, pointing with his thumb over his shoulder.

There isn’t anything over where his thumb is pointing.

“Um… excuse me, sir, but I don’t see anything,” I confess.

“Sub! It’s right there! Are you blind?” Russ asks, pointing at nothing.

I frantically scan where he’s pointing.

“All I see is a box over there, sir,” I tell him.

“That’s it, sub! There’s a hole in the top of the box. The box is sitting over a shit hole. It won’t smell too good, but it gets the job done. You’ll find TP in the waterproof box next to it. Hurry up, sub! Break will be over soon!” Russ warns me.

“Yes sir. Thank you, sir,” I manage to reply.

How can that box be a toilet?

Clink! Clank! Jangle! Clink! I make my way over to the box.

Eww! Gross! The stench of the shithole hits me in the pit of my stomach. It smells terrible! Sure enough, I find a bottomless box centered over a shit hole. There aren’t any walls! Everyone can see me pooping! On the top of the box, there’s a half-circle cut on one side. I guess I’m supposed to plop my ass down there. It doesn’t look very sanitary. There isn’t any toilet seat! It’ll just be my ass against the rough wooden edge of the cutout. I might get splinters! Crap! This sucks! But I really need to go!

I untie my rope belt holding up my chain.

Clank!

The pants and boxers have elastic waists, so I pull them down to just above my knees. This way, I’m partially covered. I carefully lower my butt down on the hole. The wooden edge is rough and scratches my butt. This is SO humiliating!

Ugh! Bombs away! Eww!

Now, how am I gonna clean up?

There’s a box to the left of my feet. I bend over and pop the top. Sure enough, there’s toilet paper inside. Thank God!

“Break’s over!” Russ yells.

Yeah, I bet he’ll be wanting me to get back to work right about now. Tough! I gotta clean myself properly.

The other guys scramble back to their mud piles. Russ looks my way.

“Rien! Why are you still sitting on the shitter? Get back to work!” Russ yells.

“Yes sir! Coming sir!” I yell back. I continue wiping myself. I can’t believe how gross this is.

“Rien! Don’t make me come over there! Get back to work!” Russ shouts.

“Yes sir! Coming sir!” I shout back. Wipe, wipe, wipe.

Crap! He’s heading over here. I hurry to finish wiping.

“All through, sir!” I declare proudly. I start to pull up my boxers and pants.

“Leave your boxers and pants where they are, sub. Turn around,” Russ orders.

“Turn around, sir?” I ask. I’m through. I’m ready to go back to work!

“Turn around and bend over the box, sub,” Russ instructs.

Oh crap! I’m gonna get paddled for pooping? Give me a break!

I sigh, turn around and bend over the box. Yuck! All I smell is shit!

WHOMP!

“OW!” A fire has started on my right butt cheek. That horrible hunk of wood has just slammed into my bare ass! Even my boxers and pants aren’t there to protect it.

“When I order you back to work, you get back to work!” Russ yells.

WHOMP!

“OW!” Now, my left butt cheek’s ablaze.

WHOMP!

“OW!” That paddle just plowed into my upper right thigh. That’s right where I sit down!

WHOMP!

“OW!” Yeah, that was my upper left thigh. How am I gonna be able to sit? My whole backside’s flaming!

“Is my message getting through, sub?” Russ shouts.

“Loud and clear, sir!” I yell through the pain. Just stop paddling me!

WHOMP!

“OW!” Burning pain spreads throughout my right butt cheek again. Stop already!

WHOMP!

“OW!” The fire jumps my crack and envelops my left butt cheek.

WHOMP!

“OW!” My right knee buckles as a firecracker explodes on my upper right thigh.

WHOMP!

“OW!” I can barely stay on my feet as a grenade detonates on my upper left thigh.

I’m bawling! Tears are running down my face. My whole backside’s destroyed! The holes in the paddle are gonna make my butt look like Swiss cheese!

“Pull up your pants, sub,” Russ orders.

“Yes sir,” I whine. My hands shake as I pull up my boxers and pants, trying to avoid contact with my raw bottom. Ouch!

“You need to thank me for correcting your disobedience, sub,” Russ says.

What? Thank you for bruising and blistering my ass? Are you crazy? Fuck you!

Then, I see how he’s still gripping that horrible paddle. He’s looking for any excuse to use it on me some more.

“T… t… thank you, sir,” I stammer. My ass is done! It can’t take any more!

Unexpectedly, Russ unbuckles his belt, unbuttons and unzips his pants, and pulls down his pants and boxers revealing his semi-erect cock.

“You may thank me properly if you consent, sub,” Russ says, leering at me.

Fuck you, dude! You just completely destroyed my ass! I don’t know how I’m gonna be able to sit down! All I wanted to do was wipe my ass after taking a shit! You should have given me a longer break! FUCK NO, I don’t consent! You can just stuff your cock right back in… wow, Russ has a really nice cock! It has a prominent head. Is that a drop of pre on the end? Fucker! He got turned on by walloping my ass!

Russ shakes his dick at me.

“It’s up to you, sub. But this cock will fit nicely down your throat. These balls have been churning up a nice load of seed for you,” he says.

His balls are resting comfortably in his ample, hairy scrotum. I wonder what he smells like?

“I’ll tell you what, sub… why not just take a lick? If you decide you don’t want to suck my cock, you can get right back to work and I’ll leave you alone,” he offers.

“Well… maybe just a lick, sir,” I agree. I know! I’ll get him all hot and bothered and leave him hanging! Ha! Ha! That’ll fix him!

“Sure, sub. Get down here on your knees and give me a lick. Maybe get a whiff of my ball sack. I bet it smells great since I’ve been standing around in the sun all morning.”

I get down on my knees in front of him. His cock looks amazing up close… magnificent, even. That hairy ball sack is calling out to me.

“Why don’t you start by burying your nose in my scrotum, sub! Here, I’ll lift my cock for you.” He does.

The pressure of a hand on the back of my head coaxes me forward. Oh, wow, I’m getting a musky, cheesy smell. It smells heavenly!

“Go on, sub! Get your nose in there!”

I dive nose first into his hairy scrotum. I take a deep whiff. Wow! He smells like a man! I keep my nose there and take deep breaths in and out through my nose.

“That’s it, sub. That’s the smell of a real man. You don’t see any cage on my dick, do you? My balls aren’t shaved like yours either.

Yeah, Sir locked this fucking cage on my dick. I didn’t have much of a choice about that.

“Maybe you’d like to lick my balls, sub. Would you like that? Give them a little lick?”

I stick out my tongue and give his hairy scrotum a lick. Yeah, I get a mouth of salt. My cock’s about to break through the bars of its cage!

“That’s it, sub. Lick the sweat from my balls! Get me all nice and clean. I’m getting hard as a rock watching you lick my balls, sub.”

Lap, lap, lap, lap, lap. I cradle each of his balls with my tongue, lifting each one up, then watching it fall back in his sack.

“You might want to suck on them a bit, sub,” Russ suggests.

I pull his left nut into my mouth. My tongue gives it a good massage. I do the same to his right nut.

“That’s nice, sub. It’s time for the main event. Lick my cock, sub!”

He’s fully erect now. He points his cock toward my mouth. There’s so much blood pouring into his dick that it’s purple. Its veins are popping. His head is bulbous. That drop of precum’s about ready to fall to the ground. I can’t let that happen. I move in and run my tongue up his piss slit, savoring his sweet goo.

“Got yourself a little treat there, sub! Good for you!”

I lap away at his head. It bobs up and down in my face. His meat lays on my face as I position my tongue where his cock and sack meet. From there, I lick all the way up to his tip.

“That’s good, sub. Go ahead and swallow it, sub!” Russ orders.

I take his head in my mouth. My tongue pushes him against the roof of my mouth. I massage his frenum.

“Swallow it, sub! Choke on it!” Russ demands.

I open my throat and thrust myself down on his cock until my nose is buried in his thick forest of musky pubes. I inhale his manliness as his head enters my gullet.

He puts a hand on each side of my head, pulling me on him. So much for my plan of leaving him hanging.

He face-fucks me.

Urk!

Urk!

Urk!

Urk!

Urk!

“You’re a great cock sucker, sub! Gag on my meat, sub!”

Urk!

Urk!

Urk!

Urk!

Urk!

“Oh yeah! Hell yeah! I’m gonna cum, sub! My cum’s going down your throat, sub!”

Urk!

Urk!

Urk!

Urk!

Urk!

“Swallow my load, sub! Gulp down my spunk!”

SPURT!

SPURT!

SPURT!

SPURT!

SPURT!

His cum shoots down my throat. I don’t even get a chance to taste it!

“Ahhhh… that’s it, sub! Good job, sub! You’re good for something after all!”

He pulls back a bit. I clean his salty, gooey cum off his dick.

“That’s right, sub. Clean me up! I don’t want my dick to stick to my boxers!”

Lap, lap, lap, lap, lap.

“Okay, sub. You’re welcome for your walloping. Now, get back to work!”

Russ tucks his dick back in his boxers, pulls up his pants, and starts buttoning up and zipping up.

I stand up, grab the rope to my chain, pull it up, and begin to tie it around my waist as I walk toward my mud pile. Those cheap-ass boxers rub against my inflamed bottom with every step I take. Crap!

To save my ass, I’m gonna need to adjust my thinking this weekend. I can’t keep having that paddle crash into my buttocks.

I begin shoveling the instant I reach my pile of mud. I’m not taking any chances. I keep my head down. Nothing to see here! Just a sub working away!

Shovel, thump! Shovel, thump! Shovel, thump! Shovel, thump! Shovel, thump! Shovel, thump! Shovel, thump! Shovel, thump! Okay, the wheelbarrow’s full enough.

I hafta stop long enough to remove my gloves and pop a couple blisters. Crap!

Clink! Clank! Jangle! Clink! Just wheeling my load over to my target zone!

Whoosh! The mud’s beginning to pile up now.

Clink! Clank! Jangle! Clink! Just going back for another load!

My mind goes numb. I’m sweating now. There are wet spots under my pits, and a huge wet spot on my back. I’m surrounded by the aroma of my own stink.

I count another 12 loads by the time break is called. I guess I’m getting better at this shit! I take a long drink from the hose, but, um… I don’t feel much like sitting down. It’s not funny! Hey! We get another energy bar! Then, it’s back to work.

I’m past the half-way point, now. I need to bend over to dig into the mud. Then, I need to lift the shovel to get it in the wheelbarrow. My arms ache, my back aches, I’m drenched in sweat, and I stink!

Back and forth, back and forth, load after load, I trudge along.

Another break is called after I move 10 more loads. During this break, I look around to see how my fellow subs are doing with their mud piles. Zilch is almost done! He’s got less than 10 loads left. Behind him is zip. His pile’s a bit smaller than mine, but not by much. Nada and I appear to be tying. Poor zero isn’t doing well. Geesh! I think his pile may be twice the size of mine. Poor guy, I feel bad for him. He’s gonna be here all day!

As we gather around the hose, I notice how much we all stink. My dick loves the stench! It’s desperately trying to break free of its cage.

Between gulps of water, everyone removes his hat and drenches his head. The water’s icy cold coming out of the hose, so it feels good. No one’s messing around anymore.

“Listen up, subs!” Russ shouts. “Some of you may finish moving your pile before the next break. Lunch will only be served after EVERY pile has been moved!”

We all groan. That’s not fair! We should get fed after we finish moving our pile!

“You’re all in this together, subs! When you finish moving your pile, go help the sub with the most left. Keep working together until all the piles have been moved. Then, we’ll give you lunch. Understood?” Russ asks.

“Yes, sir,” we all kinda mumble.

So, what’s the point of hurrying? I won’t slow down so much that I get the motivator applied to my rump, but I’m not gonna bust my ass for the privilege of helping another sub with his pile. Ouch! I just felt a twinge of guilt.

I guess it isn’t zero’s fault he’s in last place. He appears to be working just as hard as I am. Okay, I’ll go help him out if I need to.

“Okay subs, back to work!” Russ orders.

No one hesitates. Everyone immediately heads back to their pile. No one even attempts to take a shit like I did. I guess my fellow subs have learned from my mistake. Glad I could be helpful! Crap!

Zilch finishes moving his pile and begins helping zero. Heck, with zilch’s help, zero may be finished before me!

I don’t consciously slow down, but between the heat and my aching arms and back, I only complete 8 loads before another break is called. I’m up to a total of 59 loads. I’ll definitely finish prior to the next break.

We get another energy bar during the break. I was afraid we wouldn’t get one since we’re gonna eat lunch soon.

None of us has more than 10 loads left. Hurray! My stomach’s growling! It wants food!

When Russ says break’s over, we’re all eager to finish moving our piles. I have… (maybe five?) loads left when nada comes over to help me. We smile at each other. I’ll get done much faster now.

As nada and I are steering our wheelbarrows back from our last load, Russ shouts that it’s lunch time.

We’re instructed to wash out our wheelbarrows, and rinse off our shovels. So, we’re done? I was afraid we’d need to move the piles back! I guess there’s always tomorrow for that. Crap!

I wonder if we’ll have our heads locked in the stanchion for lunch. We’re instructed to take our wheelbarrows and shovels back to the barn. We need to keep our gloves, though.

As we exit the barn, Stache hands each of us a sack. We all sit down in the shade against the barn. We’re all exhausted. Our muscles ache. We all stink like skunks!

We find some shade from the barn’s shadow. The other guys plop their butts down on the ground with their backs against the barn. I must gently lower my sorry bruised ass to the ground.

I peer into the sack. There are two baloney and cheese sandwiches, a small bag of chips, an apple, and a cookie. Hey, we get a cookie!

The sandwiches suck! There isn’t any mustard or mayonnaise. They are just a slice of cheese, and a slice of baloney between two slices of white bread. Boring!

But I’m hungry! I’m eating them anyway.

Nada and zilch go to use the box toilet. Our lunch break is longer. I guess they won’t need to worry about being paddled for shitting like I was. Crap! If only I would have known!

They return pretty quickly. I don’t blame them… the shitter stinks! Best to get away from there as fast as possible.

“Hey, rien!” nada says. “Since I helped you move your pile, I expect you to kiss my ass tonight!”

Everyone looks at me.

“Oh, I’ll do more than that to your ass,” I answer.

“Really? What are you gonna do?” nada asks.

“I’m gonna bury my face between your sweet butt cheeks and ram my tongue up your hole as far as it’ll go!” I reply.

All the guys hoot and holler.

“Damn!” nada responds. “I’m gonna hold you to that!”

“Count on it!” I assure him.

“What are you gonna do for me, zero?” zilch asks. “I carted off more than 10 loads of your pile.”

Zero smiles and says, “Anything you want, zilch!”

There’s more hoot and hollering.

My dick loves being with my fellow subs. They’re a great group of guys. We still stink, but I don’t notice it as much.

We polish off our lunches quickly. The Doms leave us alone.

“It’s time for me to take a nap, rien,” nada announces. “I’ll be using your belly as a pillow.”

I carefully ease myself away from the barn so I can lie down. I spread my legs as far as my chain will allow and pat my belly.

“Anytime, nada… anytime,” I reply.

He comes over and lies down between my legs. My nostrils inhale the noisome fumes from his fragrant pits.

“A shoulder massage would be nice about now,” nada says.

“Sure thing, nada!” I agree. Nada is hot! I’m happy to make him feel good. I can’t wait to eat out his ass tonight. I begin rubbing his muscular shoulders.

Russ comes over and interrupts nada’s nap.

“Listen up, subs! You have the option of removing your shirts for this afternoon’s labor,” he tells us.

“Yay!” we all yell. Hell yeah! Seeing my fellow subs half-naked will help keep my mind off my aching muscles.

“Just put your shirts in the laundry bag, subs,” Russ tells us.

We all ditch our shirts. Nada reaches over and pinches my right nipple. I grimace and punch him in the arm. The air against our skin is wonderful.

“Slather on the sunscreen, subs!” Russ orders. “Help your fellow subs out. Ensure your backs are completely protected.”

We have fun slapping sunscreen on each other. I provide nada with a little massage.

“Grab a backpack and follow me, subs,” Russ commands.

There is a pile of backpacks. They are stained with sweat. Eww! We each grab one and fall in line behind Russ. What’s next? Why do we need backpacks? Are we going camping?

Oh crap! Russ leads us to a huge pile of rocks. They’re all painted different colors.

“What we have here, subs,” Russ informs us, “is a pile of rocks that need to be sorted.”

We all groan.

“Ideally, we’d have a salt mine here for you subs to work in. Unfortunately, we don’t have one here. What we do have is a bunch of rocks. You’ll be sorting them using our methodology. You’ll each be assigned two colors. You’ll pick those rocks from the pile and put as many into your backpacks as you can carry. Then, you’ll march them one quarter mile down the path where you’ll find piles to place them. Any questions?” Russ asks.

“How many rocks of each color are there, sir?” asks zip.

“There are 100 rocks of each color. There are 10 colors,” Russ answers.

We all groan again. So, this is what a pile of 1,000 rocks looks like.

“Rien, black and gray; nada, blue and purple; zip, red and maroon; zilch, green and white; zero, yellow and orange. Do you understand, subs?” Russ asks.

“Yes, sir,” we reply.

“Then, GET TO WORK!” Russ screams.

Clink! Clank! Jangle! Clink! We all trudge over to the huge pile. Each stone is about the size of a fist. They’re all river rocks, so there aren’t any sharp edges, thank God!

Zero and nada are to my left and right, so I hand them their rocks, and they hand me mine. We try to determine the best number of rocks to consider a load. We don’t want it too heavy, but if it’s too light, it’s gonna mean more trips. I’m starting to get blisters on my feet.

I pile 10 rocks into my backpack. I lift it.

Oof! That’s enough!

Okay. Ten rocks at a time will mean 20 trips. Crap! That’s a lot of trips.

I struggle to get the backpack over my shoulders. We all start out together. I believe zilch and zip have more than 10 rocks, zero may have fewer.

The dirt path is a road. There are tire marks dug into the dirt.

Clink! Clank! Jangle! Clink! We all trudge along with our chains jingling.

At the end of the path, there’s an area with 6’ high poles sticking out of the ground. At the top of each pole there’s a color label. I remove my backpack and put my stones around the appropriate pole. Stache and Burly stand around and supervise.

No one’s watching us as we trudge back to the rock pile with our empty backpacks. The sweat is glistening on nada’s back. I want to lick it! So, I do! I get a mouthful of salt and sunscreen. Eww!

“What the…? Don’t you worry, rien, we’ll be putting that tongue of yours to good use tonight,” nada promises.

I’d do more with my tongue, but Russ can see us as we get closer to the rock pile. My ass can’t take anymore motivating.

There’s a benefit to this chore; we can get a drink anytime we want since there’s a hose right by the rock pile. That’s cool!

This chore seems to be less restrictive. The Doms allow us to speak with each other. Being able to talk keeps our minds off our aching muscles and sore feet and legs. I’m glad Sir had me break in these boots before I got here. I’d be in a world of hurt if I hadn’t broken them in. I mean, I still have blisters, but it’d be way worse!

Back and forth, back and forth, we travel.

A few times, I hang back so I can watch my fellow subs’ butts. There’s a sheen of sweat on everyone’s back. The leg irons are hot! They make each sub appear rough and dangerous. Even the jingling sound they make is hot. My dick wants out of its cage, that’s for sure.

After our eighth trip, Russ hands us energy bars.

We figure this will be the last chore of the day since it’s gonna take the rest of the afternoon.

We get another energy bar after our sixteenth trip. Zilch only has a few rocks left that we can see. He’s been carrying 12 at a time. He tosses a couple of the other guys’ rocks in his backpack. Zilch is a great guy.

With zilch and zip helping us out, the twentieth trip is our last. We toss the rocks in their appropriate piles and head back with empty backpacks. The pile of rocks is gone!

“Okay subs,” Russ says, “it’s time for supper.”

“Yay!” we all cheer.

“You subs stink!” Russ exclaims. “Time to hit the shower!”

We start stripping as soon as we hit the barn. We plop the backpacks in a pile and toss our gloves in each wheelbarrow. The other guys plop their butts down to remove their boots. I, on the other hand, decide to stand to remove mine. Whoa! Do those puppies smell! Our socks are putrid!

We start to remove our pants, but we’re stopped in our tracks by the leg irons. How the heck are we gonna get our pants off?

Thankfully, zip’s Sir puts him in leg irons all the time. He shows us how to remove our pants over our irons. It’s a complicated procedure. If you message me, I’ll tell you exactly how it’s done. We follow the same instructions for removing our boxers. And… we’re naked! Well, except for our collars, chastity cages and leg irons. Ha! Ha!

My buttocks are black, blue, and purple from that fucking motivator! I’d never use that thing on anyone’s butt. It’s all because I needed to take a shit! It’s not fair!

We’re so overheated from working outside all day, the icy cold shower water feels great! Russ doesn’t warn us about any limit to our shower time, so we lather each other up.

“Are you my sub, rien?” nada asks.

“Sure, boss!” I answer. This is fun!

“Wash my hair, sub!” nada orders.

“What hair, boss?” I answer, laughing.

“Don’t get smart, or you’ll find yourself over my knee, sub!” nada warns.

I turn around and show him my bruised butt.

“I’m afraid that ship’s already sailed, boss,” I reply.

He whistles.

“Shit, dude! You must be one naughty sub!” nada says.

“Nah, I’ll keep you happy, boss,” I assure him.

“Hair!” nada says, pointing to his head. He bends forward so I can get to it.

“Sure, boss!” I say, lathering up my hands as soon as I get them on the bar of soap. I work it into his scalp and give him a great scalp massage.

“Pits!” nada says, pointing to his armpits and raising his arms.

“Yes, boss,” I say. I get lots of soap in them and scrub them clean.

“Ass!” he says, bending over and spreading his cheeks.

The bars of my cage dig hard into my sensitive dick head. It LOVES me being nada’s sub.

I soap up his crack and stick my soapy index finger up his hole. I can’t wait to get my tongue in there!

“Get me clean, sub, cuz that’s where your tongue’s going tonight!” nada warns.

I move my finger all around up in there until he’s clean.

I notice zero doing the same thing to zilch.

“Hey! Who’s cleaning my ass?” zip asks.

“I will!” both zero and I answer at the same time. We both blush and laugh at each other.

“Zero, you clean my ass, rien, you clean my pits,” zip orders.

I get right to work on zip’s smelly, hairy pits. I’m jealous of zero, who’s doing a very thorough job of cleaning zip’s hole.

“Five minutes!” Russ announces.

I hurry to finish cleaning zip’s pits and clean my own pits and hole. I have just enough time to wash my hair, not that there’s much of it.

Finally, we’re all clean and the water’s turned off. We take turns drying ourselves off with the dinky towel that keeps needing to be wrung out.

“Get dressed, subs. Just leave your boots out to dry,” Russ suggests.

That’s good. We didn’t want to put those smelly things back on anyway.

We’re presented with clean uniforms. They’re the same uncomfortable material, but they’re clean. Zip has to walk us through putting our boxers and pants on over our leg irons. What’s the point? I don’t think they’re gonna be on very long after lights out. Ha! Ha!

“It’s chow time, subs! Get into your pen and assume your positions at the stanchion!” Russ commands.

I’m starving! I bet my fellow subs are too!

We file through the gate to our pen, walk down the aisle in front of our sleeping mats, line up along the stanchion, and get down on all fours. I remove my hat.

By instinct, I move forward and stick my head between the slats. Do I make a good cow or what? My fellow subs would also pass cow school because I see all their smiling faces when I look right or left.

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak!

Our heads are trapped so we can be fed.

I put my hands behind my back to be cuffed, but nothing happens.

“Tonight, subs, you’ll dine on our chef’s specialty… beef stew!”

We’re all happy to hear that.

Burly and Stache wheel in the cart with the pot of stew. It isn’t long before my dog bowl of stew is placed under my nose. It smells delicious! I can’t wait to bury my face in it!

“If you use your hands, you’ll be cuffed, and your ass will be visited by the motivator. Okay, subs… eat up!” Russ gives the go-ahead.

I plunge in, nose first. I don’t care how messy my face gets… I’m hungry! Thankfully, it isn’t too hot. Otherwise, we’d burn our faces.

Chomp! Smack! Slurp! The sounds of my eating mingle with those of my fellow subs.

Burp!

It’s kinda fun not having to worry about manners. Here, the whole goal is to eat like a dog.

The stew is delicious! There are nice pieces of meat for me to gnaw on. There are also hunks of potato, green pepper, celery, onion, and carrots.

It doesn’t take long for us to chow down. We lick our bowls clean.

Russ comes down the line, retrieving our dog bowls.

“Rien, there may be more stew on your face than in your stomach! Happy to see you’ve learned how to eat like a sub,” Russ says.

“Yes sir, thank you, sir,” I say. I’m enjoying being a sub!

“Okay subs, get cleaned up! Lights out in a few! Get some sleep! You have another hard day of work tomorrow!” Russ warns.

We all groan.

Squeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeak!

Our heads are released. Zero and I hang back as the other guys wash up. We’re okay being subs of subs.

I wash the stew off my face and brush my teeth. I want to have fresh breath to mess around with the guys tonight. I take a piss.

Zero’s worried that they might lock us in “the instrument” again. I tell him I doubt it… that was a one-time thing.

GROOOOOOOOOOAN!

BAM!

The gate slams shut.

Crash!

The latch is thrown.

CLICK! We’re locked in.

“Lights out!” Russ declares. Only the night lights remain.

Yes! Play time!

End part 3

In Part 4, the subs get naughty!

Read many more stories by Zac Loughty on his site, Naughty Boy Stories.