Midnight Farmhand

by Roland Graeme

  He collapsed across Camilo’s lower torso, his cum-slick palm sliding over Camilo’s tattooed chest. Jacob lay on the bed, feeling drained at last. He took Camilo in his arms and pulled him close against him. Worn out for the time being by their fierce mutual lust, the two men relaxed.

  Chapter Nine: The Ties That Bind

  After resting for a few minutes, Jacob and Camilo roused themselves. They took turns showering.

  “Damn, it’s hot and humid tonight,” Camilo complained, as he toweled himself dry. “Isn’t it ever going to cool off? I thought it was supposed to storm and rain, tonight.”

  Also unselfconsciously nude, Jacob peeked out through the drapes and blinds on the front window.

  “The sky’s awfully black,” he reported. “Not a star to be seen. Hey, there you go—there was just a flash of lightning, in the distance. It lit up the horizon, just for a second.”

  A few moments later, both men heard a dull rumble of thunder.

  “It’s still pretty far away,” Camilo said. “Well, let’s get back in bed. We might as well try to get some sleep.”

  “It’s not that late. And I’m not really all that sleepy, yet. Are you?”

  “I guess not. You got something in mind, Jacob? Some way of passing the time?”

  “I sure do. We can always play around some more.”

  Camilo shook his head. “When we first met, you were such a nice boy. Now you’re downright degenerate. And insatiable, on top of it.”

  “Look who’s talking,” Jacob retorted. “What’s the matter? Am I too much for you? Can’t an old man like you get it up again?”

  “I’ll show you who’s old, kid—and who doesn’t have any trouble at all getting it up again. And letting you have it!” Camilo threatened him, playfully.

  “Looking forward to it,” Jacob taunted him. “Hey—want to play a little game?”

  Camilo was wary. “What kind of a kind of a game?”

  “A sex game, of course. What else?”

  “You’re going to have to a little more specific, before I commit myself. There are games … and then there are games,” Camilo said. “Some are more harmless than others.”

  “Oh, this one’s harmless enough. You’ll see.”

  Jacob opened a drawer in his bureau and took out a little package containing a pair of new rawhide bootlaces. He always kept a supply of such extra items handy, although it hadn’t occurred to him until recently that such utilitarian objects could be useful for more than one function. He tore the package open and extracted one of the laces, unfolding it.

  Camilo was looking at him, curiously. “What are you planning to do with that?”

  By now, both men’s erections were reviving. Jacob handed Camilo the bootlace, and then Jacob turned his back to him and put his hands behind his back, positioning his wrists together, as though he was waiting for a certain local police office to handcuff him.

  “Tie my hands together,” he told Camilo. His voice trembled a little—with excitement.

  “Fuck! Those fights did put some ideas into your head, didn’t it?” Camilo exclaimed.

  “Yeah. Come on, do it. Let’s play make-believe.”

  “Make believe what, exactly? Does this ‘game’ of yours have a name? Does it have rules?”

  “Let’s just call it ‘submission,’ to begin with, and take it from there. Pretend that you’ve just beaten me, in one of those wrestling matches. You’ve made me submit to you. Now the two of us are back in the locker room—naked. And ‘to the victor belong the spoils,’ as they say. Let’s see what happens.”

  Camilo stepped up close behind Jacob, looped the rawhide around his wrists, and pulled it taut.

  “Tighter,” Jacob gasped. “Do it really tight.”

  “If I make it too tight, it’ll cut off your circulation, and your hands will start to go numb,” Camilo cautioned him.

  “I’ll let you know if that happens. Go on, fasten it good and tight. I don’t want to be able to get away from you.”

  “Don’t worry about it. Because you’re not going to get away from me,” the Mexican warned him. “I’m going to make damn sure of that.”

  Jacob was excited by the tough, emphatic tone that had crept into his buddy’s voice.

  Camilo secured the improvised restraint with a knot. Jacob strained his arms, trying to pull his wrists apart. There was no play in the binding. Camilo had done a good job.

  He took the other lace from the package. “Turn around,” he instructed Jacob. There was once again a terseness in his voice that suggested he was starting to get into the spirit of their role playing.

  Jacob obeyed, turning to face him. “What are you going to do?”

  “You’ll see. Don’t talk. Stand still. Don’t move. Don’t resist,” Camilo warned his prisoner.

  He took Jacob’s cock in his hand and manipulated it, roughly, quickly getting it hard. When he was satisfied that Jacob achieved his maximum degree of tumescence, he began to wind the second shoelace quite deftly around Jacob’s cock and balls, using it to create an intricate and tight-fitting genital restraint. When he was finished, Jacob’s cock jutted out from my groin at an angle. His testicles were not only separated from each other by a loop of the bootlace; the rawhide was wound around the loose skin between the base of his penis and his scrotum as well, pulling his balls up and out, and keeping them in a pronounced swollen state.

  Camilo stood there looking down at the other man’s crotch, inspecting his handiwork. He slapped Jacob’s trussed-up phallus with the palm of his hand, none too gently, several times, watching how it swayed back and forth.

  He raised his head and looked Jacob in the eyes. There was a sternness in the set of his features that Jacob found extremely arousing—and a little frightening, too.

  “All right,” he said. “Now that I’ve got you all trussed up, what should I do with you? I know,” he added, without giving Jacob a chance to answer. “I can do anything to you I damn well feel like doing—and there’s nothing you can do about it, except obey me.”

  Some perverse longing for abuse spurred Jacob to defy him. “That’s what you think. Go to hell,” Jacob told him.

  Camilo slapped Jacob’s face.

  “Ow! You son of a bitch. That hurt!”

  “It’s only the beginning of what you’ll get, if you mouth off to me again.”

  “Yeah? Go fuck yourself,” Jacob said.

  Camilo slapped him again, harder.

  “Don’t make me mad,” he warned Jacob. “I have a mean streak in me, and you don’t want to bring it out.”

  “I don’t believe you,” Jacob taunted him, recklessly. “Mean streak, my ass! I think you’re a pussy. I think—”

  Camilo slapped Jacob’s face for a third time, really hard this time, his open palm stinging his cheek. Jacob let out a yelp. Camilo was watching him closely, Jacob realized, monitoring his responses, making sure he wasn’t being too rough.

  “You’re not here to think,” he said. “You’re here to take my orders, and to get fucked, once I decide to stick my cock in that whore hole of yours.”

  “Hit me again,” Jacob pleaded, recklessly. “I like it!”

  “Yeah? I can tell you do. Is this how you like it?”

  As he spoke, he smacked Jacob’s face again, twice in rapid succession. Jacob shuddered, and let out a moan of pure lust. Camilo smirked at him. He raised his hand, and Jacob flinched. But he’d pulled his punch this time, and he didn’t actually touch the other man. He was toying with Jacob.

  Just when Jacob thought he was safe, Camilo quickly spanked his butt with one hand; and at the same moment he slapped Jacob’s face, really hard, with the other.

  “Ow!” Jacob yelled. “You dirty son of a bitch!”

  “You’d better watch your mouth. And your manners. Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Camilo commented, in a soft, insinuating tone of voice that had a decidedly sinister edge to it. “You like it when a man slaps you around a little. Maybe you like it a little to
o much, huh? I’m going to have to find out what you don’t like, so I’ll know how to keep you in line.”

  He slapped Jacob’s other cheek, lightly and teasingly this time. Then he reached down between their bodies. He found the dangling free ends of the bootlace and he yanked down on them, jerking Jacob’s bound scrotum painfully away from his erection. The bound farmhand sucked in his breath in a sharp rasp of pain. He looked at his tormentor, silently apologizing, silently pleading for mercy.

  “Yeah,” Camilo gloated, staring into Jacob’s eyes as he maintained the tension on the lace, tugging on it as though it was a leash. “You don’t like that so much, do you? It hurts, doesn’t it? And not in the way you like to be hurt, you horny little bottom boy. Okay, now we know. You give me any lip, or you refuse to do anything I tell you to do, and I swear to God I’ll give your balls such a stretching, they’ll stay stretched. I may even yank the fuckers right off and castrate you.” And, to drive his point home, he gave Jacob’s genitals another vicious tug, making him moan in protest.

  He released the lace, only to put his hands on Jacob’s shoulders and push down on them.

  “Get down on your knees and suck my dick,” he ordered. “And you’d better do a good job, or I’ll start in on your nuts again.”

  The fact that Jacob couldn’t steady himself with his hands, which were so tightly bound behind his back, made his descent an awkward one. He fell rather than knelt, but he ended up in the submissive posture Camilo wanted—kneeling naked on the floorboards at his feet.

  Camilo took his cock in his hand and directed it to Jacob’s mouth. He slapped it back and forth across Jacob’s chin, and then he demanded, “Open your mouth and get down on it.”

  Eager to suck that cock, Jacob opened his mouth. But Camilo didn’t give him a chance to get down on it, at least not of his own volition. Instead, he rammed the potent shaft of his cock between Jacob’s lips and into his throat. His heavy balls swung like a fleshy pendulum and smacked against the underside of Jacob’s chin as he bucked his pelvis energetically back and forth, and began to fuck the farmhand in the mouth. Forcing him to take every inch of his manhood, he dominated the other farm hand completely. Jacob could feel his own cock hardening even more, so that the rough-textured rawhide wound around its base seemed to be cutting uncomfortably into his flesh. He could also feel the tip of his own neglected but very erect penis already dripping semen. Jacob was turned on!

  “Yeah, take it!” Camilo snarled, driving his hot piston deep into Jacob’s throat, grinding his pubic hair against the kneeling cocksucker’s drooling lips. “Oh, you are one hot little cocksucker. And you’ve been practicing, haven’t you? On that bastard Greenley’s dick—and on that blond bodybuilder buddy of his—and on your big, butch cop lover. And God knows how many others. You slut!”

  As he pulled back and Jacob’s throat cleared for an instant, Jacob took advantage of the chance to snatch a quick, deep breath. But then the rubbery pipe of the erection slid back into his throat, with Camilo’s full weight behind the thrust this time. Working his ramrod as though it was some kind of a fleshy power tool, he used it to ream Jacob out orally.

  Jacob moaned, trying to beg him to stop, to ease up on him; but of course with his mouth filled with hard, hot cock he was incapable of coherent speech at the moment. And the truth was, he didn’t want Camilo to stop. He wanted the well-hung bastard to go on fucking his throat. Jacob had no will power of his own, no desire or ability to resist the other man.

  After what seemed like an eternity, Camilo suddenly pushed Jacob away from him. Unable to use his hands to break his fall, Jacob lost my balance and slumped onto his side on the floor.

  Camilo stood there, naked and erect, his cock gleaming wet with Jacob’s saliva. He looked down at Jacob and grinned, in a strange way that seemed half diabolical, half conspiratorial—as though the two of them shared a secret that they were keeping from the rest of the world.

  “How’re those wrists of yours doing, boy?” he asked Jacob.

  “Okay,” Jacob panted.

  “Want me to leave your hands tied while I fuck you?”

  “Yes!”

  “Yeah, I had a feeling you would,” Camilo jeered. “It sounds like it could be kind of kinky.”

  He leaned over, put a hand under Jacob’s sweaty armpit, and unceremoniously hauled him to his feet. Just as matter-of-factly, he pushed Jacob toward the waiting bed, then onto it. Jacob sprawled across the mattress.

  Standing beside the bed, Camilo looked down at his upthrust cock. “Where’re the rubbers and the lube?” he asked, glancing over at the nightstand.

  “I put them back in the top drawer. But I don’t want you to use too much lube this time. I want to really feel you going in and out of me, fucking the hell of my ass. I want to be nice and tight for you. I want to give you a ride you’ll never forget. And I want you to fuck me as hard as you can. I want you to pretend I really am your prisoner—your sex prisoner—and that you’re taking me by force. I want you to hurt me with your big, hard cock!” Jacob spat out this lewd little monologue in a breathless rush. His entire body shook with arousal, with impatience—and with raw sexual need.

  Camilo looked down at Jacob curiously, and then he smiled.

  “You really are in a kinky mood tonight, aren’t you?”

  “You bet I am.”

  “It looks like your new fuck buddy, the cop, put a few wild ideas into your head.”

  “I’m not thinking about what he put into my head. I’m thinking about what he shoved up my ass. It felt good. Yours always feels good in there, too. I want your dick. I want to get fucked. Come on, Camilo. Fuck me!”

  “I thought we decided I was going to be the boss around here, tonight. I’ll fuck you when I’m good and ready, and then I won’t need an invitation. Lucky for you, I am in the mood.”

  Jacob’s hard-on lifted itself steadily from his groin and jutted out over his abdomen at an angle as the hot blood flowed into it. Clumsily, he managed to twist himself around and get on his knees on the bed, with his bound hands resting in the small of his back.

  “Fuck me,” he repeated; but the request was unnecessary. Camilo was already moving into position behind him.

  “Like a dog,” Camilo promised. “I’m going to fuck you like a dog.”

  When Camilo paused to put on the rubber, Jacob turned his head slowly and watched the procedure, already excited by the thought of having the Mexican stud drive that big, hard, latex-protected cock into him. Camilo applied a light coating of lube to himself. Raising his head and meeting Jacob’s gaze, he seemed to hesitate for a moment, his face expressionless except for his dark eyes, which smoldered with sexual anticipation. His lips parted as he exhaled, and then he moved in closer against Jacob, the uplifted lance of his rock-hard cock preceding him.

  Kneeling behind Jacob, Camilo touched his hips with both hands, very lightly, as he spread his legs and bent his knees to lower the trajectory of his cock to the proper angle. Then he guided the hard fuckpole into the waiting crack of Jacob’s ass, centered the swollen head of it against his anus, and leaned into him. Jacob’s bound hands pressed against Camilo’s taut abdominal muscles. Jacob wriggled his fingers, trying to obtain some purchase on the other man’s flesh; but with his wrists tied the way they were, it was impossible

  Camilo’s bloated erection felt like a heated crowbar as it pressed into his sphincter ring. But Jacob moaned with pleasure and he pushed back against Camilo, desperately wanting to feel the inflexible bulk of his friend’s virility piercing him to the hilt.

  “Fuck,” Camilo whispered, hotly. “Your ass feels so tight. I can’t believe a whore like you still has such a tight little hole!”

  “Stretch it,” Jacob invited him. He threw his buttocks back around his hard-on, wincing and grinding his teeth together in response to the friction his shaft caused as it jerked into him. “Oh, yeah!” Jacob exulted. “Fuck me. Fuck me!”

  Camilo almost pushed him flat onto his belly on the be
d with the next thrust he made. Jacob squirmed under the impact, acutely aware of the pressure inside his ass and also within his throbbing cock.

  “Fuck me, Camilo. I’m all yours,” he told the Mexican stud. The heat of his erection in Jacob’s ass made a corresponding hot sweat break out all over his skin. “Oh, pound the hell out of my hole!”

  “You’re mine, all right,” Camilo grunted. “Mine to fuck. Tonight—and any night I damn well want you.”

  As he said that, Camilo lunged against him again and, Jacob could feel that his thick penis was throbbing deep within him. And the strength of that cock as it began to move inside him seemed to radiate something of Camilo’s power and masculinity throughout Jacob’s body along, with the torrid waves of its heat.

  “Fuck me. Take me,” Jacob babbled. “Fuck my hole. Rape my horny ass!”

  “You can’t rape the willing,” Camilo quipped. “You want it, don’t you? You like it, don’t you? You like it rough. You like being my submissive little bitch.”

  “I love it,” Jacob admitted. “Fuck me harder. Oh, fuck me as hard as you can!”

  “I’ll fuck you, boy. By the time I’m done with you, you’ll forget about all those other guys. You’ll want me. You’ll want my cock in there, fucking you, every goddamn night.”

  Midway through the fuck, Jacob came, without even having his cock touched. Helplessly, he fired his load all over the bed. Ignoring Jacob’s orgasm, Camilo went right on pounding his butt, while Jacob egged him on with every filthy verbal outburst he could think of. Finally, Camilo came in his ass. He collapsed on top of Jacob, his weight pressing Jacob down onto the mattress. Gasping desperately for air to refill his lungs, Camilo slid one arm under Jacob’s neck. He gently pulled Jacob’s head up and back against his, and kissed Jacob on every part of his face he could reach. It was surprisingly erotic, in some ways almost more pleasurable than being kissed on the mouth.

  They were both still breathing hard when Camilo untied Jacob’s wrists, and inspected them.