Repeated kicks to my balls left me puking in the grass. The last time I tried to come to Laura's aid I got gang raped for my trouble. Keep your mouth shut, I told myself.
When they took her away, I was sure they would start her pony training, but I had also heard talk about branding at midnight. "This asshole too!" I gulped.
When I looked up, I saw the same frizzy-haired blonde who had whipped us for talking. "Don't look at me boy!" She snarled. A thought went through my mind: When was the last time this bitch got laid? I felt a pull on my hair, as she yanked my head up. "If I see you looking at my face again, I'll have you dragged to the whipping post!"...."Yes ma'am!"...."I am the Vice-Mistress here, so don't give me any shit boy!"...My scalp ached...."Yes ma'am."
That's when I realized that what Laura had whispered to me when we were in our stalls, that we were all slaves here, was right. My body was constantly being used. Cocks and pussies were shoved into my face; I was butt-fucked repeatedly. It was right out in the open to the cheers of Mr. Constanzo who was watching my degradation with glee.
But the worst was yet to come. Just before midnight I was led into a building that had a strange smell. What was it? Then I saw Laura, bent over a metal table, with hands chained in front of her. In this position her wonderfully shaped butt-cheeks were hanging over the end. The sight made my dick hard, but I was sure I wasn't there to fuck her. I was positioned right beside her in the same manner.
That smell I had detected was a branding iron being fired -up! I heard Laura pleading , "NOOOOOO!" Her plea was disregarded, and I smelled flesh burning, a pitiable scream and then silence. Laura had passed out.
"Next!"
I'm sure my screams could be heard all over the compound before I blacked out.