By Chained Muscle

Fear gripped Jason, his wrists, ankles, and neck chained he  realized escape was impossible. Somehow laying in the hot dusty barn Jason managed to get some sleep.

Early the following day they came again.  They opened the barn door and threw a bucket of cold water over the young student lying chained on the barn floor.

One of the thugs came over and pointed his shotgun at Jason, “Git up boy!”  As Jason began to slowly push himself off the floor, the bearded ranch hand shoved him back down with the butt of his whip and kicked him in the chest. Laughing  “Now get up you’re goona work the fields today boy”.

They forced  Jason to his feet and walked him out  of the barn towards a nearby field where Virgil was standing by an old iron plow.  A huge old fashioned wooden oxen yoke lay on the ground.  Attached to the yoke  were several long chains, “See that boy, you’re going to wear that all day”, laughed Virgil as plunged his pitch fork into Jason’s whip scared muscular back.  Virgil unlocked Jason’s wrist and ankle chains “pick it up”, pointing to the heavy yoke when Jason hesitated Virgil rammed  him again with his pitch fork. Jason quickly put the yoke on his shoulders. Virgil locked Jason’s neck to a short chain attached to the center of  the yoke. The two thugs roughly tied his wrists to the end of the yoke. They forced Jason over to the heavy iron plow laying in the field, and attached the yoke chains.

The sun was rising higher into the sky and began to beat relentlessly down on to Jason.  “Pull, you animal”, screamed Virgil as the bearded thug steered the plow.

Jason began to drag it through the dry dusty ground.

Jason  groaned as he strained beneath the weight of the yoke and the attached iron plow.  The thugs laughed and shrieked at Jason’s horrendous task.  “This will teach you to steal from me, you fucker”, yelled Virgil as the bearded hand  unfurled his bull whip and screamed.  “Pull harder”, and viciously lashed the whip across Jason’s shoulders.  The massive hard muscles across Jason’s back and shoulders pushed against his skin as he strained against the weight of the plow.  They also made an easy target for  the  whip.

Virgil forced Jason to drag the plow through the dry hot dusty field for the remainder of the morning.  Sweat, mixed with blood from the whiplashes, rolled down his aching back.  His jockey briefs, soaked with his sweat and the filth of the dust thrown up by the plow, clung tightly to the hard oblique muscles of his waist.  His strong muscular thighs were on fire from the strain but worse the physical pain was the humiliation from being treated like a farm animal.

Eventually Virgil stopped the torture.  He called to his farm workers, “Bring the shackles, he ain’t going nowhere”.  They carried over the leg irons that were attached to awrist irons by a large thick chain.  Removing the yoke, they quickly locked Jason’s hands and ankles into the heavy metal restraints and connected the chains to his neck.  With a kick to his backside they motioned Jason to move, he could only slowly shuffle forward, as the chain between his ankle shackles was very short.  On reaching the barn, they pushed him inside and locked the door.  Jason, terrified, naked, bloody and exhausted, lay on the barn floor.  He could only imagine what lay in store for him next.

 This is an excerpt from Chained Muscle.

To see more, visit Chained Muscle