Tag Archives: Pickle

Story

Human Cattle – Part 03

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By Pickle

I had been deposited back on the cowpath exactly in the spot from where I’d been abducted.  I was again dressed as I’d been before it all happened, and seemingly no worse for wear.  I lay there face-down on the muddy cowpath for a few minutes, soaked to the hide from the rain that was pelting down upon me and covered in muck, just trying to gather my wits.

I had memories of what I thought had happened but wasn’t sure if they were real.  I thought I MUST have been hit by lightening and it had short-circuited my brain enough to give me those hallucinations, but I felt fine … better than I had ever felt, really REALLY good in fact.  Kind of euphoric, but also full of energy and strength.

I felt around to the back of my neck, and sure enough, there was a slight, thin ridge.  I’d be checking that out with mirrors as soon as I got inside my farmhouse.  I checked my watch and it was only a little more than an hour after I’d left the cottage.  In my mind, it had felt like days that I’d been aboard that starship, if I indeed HAD been.

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Story

Human Cattle – Part 02

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By Pickle

I woke up stretched out in a narrow spread-eagle over a large arch of some kind.  I had long fantasized about those medieval wheel-shaped racks, and wondered how long I could tough it out on one.  There was some deep, twisted part of me that truly wanted to know how much I could take on one of them.

Now here I was, stretched out fully, arms above my head, torso stretched tight, bent far enough backward that when I lifted my head I wasn’t able to see my legs beyond my upper thighs. I was naked.  During the period of blackness I’d experienced, these insect-like hombres stripped me and attached me to whatever I was on. The stretch wasn’t painful, but I was definitely stretched taut on this thing.

At first I thought they had tapped into my brain and found my kinky desire to be put to one of these racks.  Any time I wanted to rub one out fast I’d put a couple pillows on top of each other and lie arched backward over them presenting my gut “front and centre,” stretching my abs out.  If I poked or punched myself in the navel in that stretched-out position while masturbating, I’d usually shoot my load within a minute or two at most.  Saves time when you’re a horny guy but have a million farm chores to get done.

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Story

Human Cattle – Part 01

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By Pickle

I live in farm country and my nearest neighbour and best bud, Steve, is a fella who rents my seaside cottage.  The small building, not much more than a shack really, is situated on a cliff overlooking about a thousand metres of a beautiful, private, white sand beach.

The beach has come to be known as “Pickle’s Cove” by the other locals who all know me by my nickname.  A cowpath leads from my farmyard down through fields that go all the way to the cliff.  It’s a good one kilometre walk down to the cottage, and I always enjoy the stroll.  Meadow grasses and wildflowers grow at the edge of the fields on either side of the lane, and during the day there are all kinds of insects buzzing, flying from flower to flower.  The combined smell of honey and vanilla from the clover, the scent of the salt air, and the feel of the sun beating down on me on the stroll is always wonderfully good for my soul.

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Story

Displayed – Part 06

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By Pickle

~ Chapter 26 ~

In spite of my exhaustion I manage to stay awake to be “entertained” by this hunky ginger being subjected to his punishment.  He’s really being vocal when he’s not in the goop … moaning, groaning and cursing.  I’m hearing “Fuck!” and “Jesus Christ!” out of him a lot!  I’m amazed he’s got the breath to be able to say anything, since the stretch makes it very hard to get in any air.  By the time I had a hundred and fifty pounds hanging on my legs I could barely succeed in taking even a shallow breath, so I knew with the two hundred on Saunders that he must have an amazing torso, since his muscles were holding him together and allowing him to get this much oxygen.  As built-up as his guns are, I know they must have gone from burning to the numb stage by now.

I’m surprised by the fact that I find myself enjoying seeing him hanging there in agony, and that I’m getting a kick out of seeing him disappear into the muck, and how he looks as he’s hauled out again to hang some more.  Even covered in this shit, piss, mud and compost mixture, this guy is undeniably attractive.  Other than Moore, he’s the best looking guy here and I’m surprised at myself enjoying watching him suffer.  “Fuck!  What’s wrong with me … Dill, get ahold of yourself here boy.  It’s just fuckin’ wrong to be liking seeing this happen to another human being.”  The obvious tent in my jeans as my cock pushed against the denim made it clear I was getting off on Saunders being in his predicament though, and in hearing his deep, masculine voice uttering the cursing complaints and moans.

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Story

Displayed – Part 05

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By Pickle

~ Chapter 21 ~

I finish up and they unchain me, and escort me outside and direct me around behind the torture barn and up the hill behind it a few hundred yards to another barn.  I’m later to learn that this one does actually serve as an animal barn, and this truly is a working farm.

I hadn’t really checked out the clothes I donned in the dark yet.  I guess I must have been too ravenous to care what I was wearing, but I now saw I was wearing a pair of really well-fitting and very faded jeans, and a dark green shirt, like I’d seen on “Coffee” … the shirttails were cut deeper than most of my own shirts, and they curved like the dress shirts I remember seeing my old man wearing.  I kinda liked the shape of those shirttails.  Maybe they reminded me of him or something.  Kind of a nice memory, since he passed away when I was in my early teens.

My two chaperones lead me beyond the barn but near one end where we pass a large manure pile.  I’m halted when we reach a small, square pit.  There’s a couple tall poles that I eyeball to be at least twenty feet high, and a thick crossbeam between them.  I see a large winch and a chain extending down from it over the pit, but the end with the hook has been pulled over to one of the poles and hooked there, waiting … I can only assume … for me.  The pit is about six feet square and since it’s filled with a gross-looking mixture of non-identifiable gunk that smells like nothing I’ve ever smelled before. I gag from the stench and my “companions” both laugh.

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Story

Displayed – Part 04

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By Pickle

Note: This is a continuation of a story by Pickle that has not been updated in quite some time. To start at the very beginning, click here.

~ Chapter 16 ~

I’m left hanging there, and as much as the fiendish belt is giving me some added support so that my arms aren’t taking my entire weight, I’m wishing to Hell it wasn’t there.  I discover it automatically tightens and loosens along with all its other functions.  It squeezes the fuck out of you for several minutes … as if breathing isn’ t tough enough just from hanging there, and then releases for a few minutes, so you think you’re safe from it.

Then it tightens again.  The thing not only sends random shocks through your navel to the back of the pole (where there must be some kind of conductive material I didn’t notice) but also the entire belt shocks you where it touches you.  I learn the “nose cone” also retracts leaving just a thin rounded rod that both jabs a guy in the navel repeatedly and at various sequences, but also circles around inside his navel as it does so … sometimes nailing him dead centre and other just off-centre, so it works the entire bellybutton.  That results in getting me so hard that my cock and balls are constantly getting shocked at full force, along with the shocks to my mid-section and feet.

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Story

Displayed – Part 03

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By Pickle

~ Chapter 11 ~

Once secured tightly in the front seat of the SUV again, I was only half-listening to Hernandez and Gunnerson discussing how screwed I was going to be today, and that it was going to be chest day at the gym, and that Hernandez was going to put me through that.  The half of my brain that wasn’t listening to their constant banter was wondering exactly what shit they were going to do to me.  I was beginning to think of it as “extreme hazing” and I had to admit to myself a small dark and twisted part of me was liking the masculinity, toughness and brotherhood of what these macho behemoths were putting me through.  Even in as much pain as I am, I realized I was starting to look forward to them roughing me up, and having their sadistic fun with me.  I guess I was even beginning to realize these guys maybe even liked me a little … maybe they just enjoy knocking the crap outta me though, who knows?  Oh well, whatever, it’s now obvious to me that I don’t have a choice, and that this seems like it’s going to be my life for a long time.  It’s like being in a bondage prison but so far I get to go home at night.

I’m knocked out of my reverie when the truck rolls to a stop outside the barn and Gunnerson says, “Hey Pick!  Just got a text from “The Boss”.  He says to take it a little easy on ya today.  Just scarecrow you, take you to the gym, then bring you back here and put you on the rack to get two more years out of you.  We drew up the new contracts last night before we left, Dill.  We’re gonna enjoy breaking you again.  Hell, maybe we’ll even dislocate those shoulders for ya today, and let you suffer for a few minutes before we put ‘em back in for ya.  That’s actually part of the initiation for our Tier 1 Seals.  I know we’re not making a real Seal outta you, but there’s no harm in toughening you up like one, Pick!

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Story

Displayed – Part 02

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By Pickle

~ Chapter 6 ~

(Day Two)

I wake up barely being able to move.  Even getting dressed in jeans and the red and black shirt that Gunnerson told me I had to wear today, “So you’ll be more noticeable when we “scarecrow” ya tomorrow, Bo”, was all I could do.

I grab a fast coffee and a banana before picking up my gym bag, and heading out the door to the driveway.  By my phone it’s 5:55, but Moore, with one of the other guys I met when I was leaving the “Farm” yesterday afternoon, was already there.  I had learned he was Sergeant Sutherland by checking out the various sections of “The Country Boy Punishment Club” website last evening.  I had been able to view not only my own punishments from the day, but also a lot of shit the other “Recruits” were being put through, ranging from a number of different tortures, but also being put through rigorous PT, and running several different obstacle courses set up to be even tougher than any of the Tough Mudder courses I’d seen.  They were all covered in muck by the time they made it to the end of the courses, IF they made it all the way through these sadistically designed obstacle courses, at all.

Continue reading Displayed – Part 02 →