Koos Smit

Johan

Chapter 7

Johan can feel his muscles strengthening and his body hardening to the intense physical demands now being made of it and every day is a little easier to get through.

At noon the next day, the boys stop working as they became aware of the growling of slow revving engines in the distance. After a while Mr Basson arrives at the workings in his bakkie, the dogs and the black trackers on the back.

Half an hour later the fourwheelers arrive, Hein in the lead. They are moving slowly. Behind Hein's and another fourwheeler they can see two boys jogging in a jerking, flopping sort of shamble. As they come closer they see that the boys are Daniel and Chrisjan and that they are being led by a long length of rope running from handcuffs on their wrists to the pillion of the four wheeler. Every now and then one of them stumbles and falls and is dragged a short distance before the fourwheeler stops to let them up and then starts off again with a jerk.

Eventually they arrive at the workings. The two prisoners flop onto the ground, exhausted. Hein jumps off his bike and yells at them to get up, lashing them with his sambok as he does so. They scramble painfully to their feet and stand there, swaying with exhaustion, chests heaving, flecks of foam on their lips and streams of sweat running rivulets through the dirt that covers every inch of their bodies.

Their bodies are covered with grazes and scratches from the thorn threes and stones they have been dragged through. Daniel has a bleeding gash in his right calf where one of the dogs sank his teeth into him. Their backs already bear several raw cuts from Hein's sambok. Chrisjan is naked, his shorts having been torn from him by the thorn bushes he had been made to run through. Daniel's shorts hang in tatters from the elastic waistband around his middle.

"Take a good look!" yells Hein, "This is what happens if you try to run away."

He pauses for his words to sink in.

"These two think they are lucky to be alive. Tomorrow they are going to wish they were dead 3; I can promise you that!"

Daniel and Chrisjan are taken to the hok and locked inside. Daniel is stripped of what remains of his shorts.

Later they are hosed down through the wire netting and Stompie comes to attend to their scratches and to give Daniel a tetanus shot for the dog bite. None of the boys is allowed to go near the hok. Stompie delivers bread and water to them at supper time.

"You must vasbyt (bite fast) tomorrow boys," he says worriedly, "We'll all be holding thumbs for you."

The boys nod, glumly.

The whole camp goes to bed subdued, thinking about what will happen to Chrisjan and Daniel tomorrow.

After breakfast the boys are all assembled in the open area in front of the whipping post. Daniel and Chrisjan, looking pale and shaken, are led from the hok and strung up on either side of the whipping post, facing each other, straining up on their toes, their wrists and ankles tied to each other, their forearms and lower legs touching. As each one is whipped, his anguish will be felt directly by his friend.

They hang there for about five minutes before Hein arrives. Hein addresses the assembled boys briefly.

"I got nothing to say to you all about running away. Words mean nothing and you don't listen anyway. Only thing you guys take notice of is this," and he holds up his sambok.

"So watch carefully. Next time this might be you!"

Hein turns to the two naked boys hanging against the whipping post. He decides to whip the younger Chrisjan first. He takes a few paces away from the post like a bowler measuring his run-up. Chrisjan is already whimpering. Piss dribbles from Chrisjan's drooping cock and runs down his straining thighs and calves to form a puddle under his feet.

Hein turns. He pauses a moment and then takes a few quick, half running steps up to the post, reaching as far back as he can with the sambok before swiveling his torso on the run, scything the air with the sambok to crack against Chrisjan's back with a report like a pistol going off.

Bright red blood wells instantly in the cut that furrows Chrisjan's muscular brown back and he lets out a full-throated scream as his body jerks and thrashes against the post. The dribble of piss becomes a jet that hoses Daniel's thick brown thighs. Daniel hardly notices in his anguish for himself and his friend.

Hein is already measuring the steps back for his next run-up as Daniel calls encouragement to Chrisjan, tears filling his eyes for his friend's pain.

Thirty times the sambok hisses through the air and bites into Chrisjan's naked and quivering flesh. Hein works his way methodically from Chrisjan's shoulders, down his back, across his buttocks and onto his upper thighs.

When Hein eventually stops, Chrisjan is hoarse from screaming. He sobs and howls loudly and continuously and his back and buttocks are a latticework of raw and bleeding cuts. Trickles of blood run down his thighs, over his bulging calves to dry on his leathery brown heels.

Chrisjan is left to hang on his ropes and cry as Hein turns his attention to Daniel. Daniel is tight and quivering with fear, his whole body shivering uncontrollably with tension. Every muscle in his back and buttocks stands out knotted and hard in anticipation of the first stroke. His brown legs and feet are splashed with his own and Chrisjan's pee.

Daniel's resolve not to scream is dissolved on the second searing stroke and he is soon blubbering and pleading for mercy as Chrisjan had done.

Hein has no mercy, however. In fact, Johan can see from the straining front of his shorts that he gets a special kick from torturing his two squirming and crying victims.

Johan once again gets the pleasurable stirring between his legs that he has come to associate with floggings now and he feels just a little ashamed to be taking pleasure out of his friends' agony.

Then it is over. One of the supervisors sprays their cuts with a strong smelling antiseptic fluid that extracts some more anguished yelps from the boys. Then, finally, the two boys are taken down one by one and half carried to Hein's bakkie where they are laid on their bellies in the back.

"They'll be on their bellies in the sick bay for the rest of the week," says bossboy Stompie to Johan's work gang.

"That means you buggers are going to have to work twice as hard to cover the lost production."

The boys swear in disgust.

"Ah, come on, Stompie, that's not fair."

"Fair's got nothing to do with it 3; that's what's gotta happen. And today you gonna have to work late too, to make up the time you lost with this show."

The boys work furiously the rest of the day to meet target. The bossboys hover everywhere and the slap of the leather straps and the agonized yelps of the sweating boys echo around the quarry all day.

Miraculously, no one misses target and there are no victims for Hein and the whipping post at the end of the day.

Despite the harrowing and exhausting day, or perhaps in reaction to it, it seems to Johan, when the lights go out, that the hut suddenly becomes charged with sexual electricity. Within minutes the hut is filled with the urgent sounds of hard and vigorous young boys enjoying to the full the only time, the only freedom and the only pleasure that is theirs alone in this nightmarish place.

Hein arrives before breakfast with two extra boys for Stompie's work gang. They are a stocky pair of tough and well-muscled 12 year-olds who have been working up at the farm since they were 10 years old. A supervisor caught them masturbating each other in the washroom late at night so Mr Basson gave them both a caning and banished them to the quarry as punishment.

They look so alike they could be brothers. With the brawny legs, the thick necks and muscular build of wrestlers and rugby forwards, they look like a pair of young bulls as they paw the dirt nervously with their leathery bare feet. They are both blue eyed and their bristled blonde hair is startling white against skin tanned a deep honey brown. Dressed, unusually, in clean shorts and T-shirts, they are mistaken at first for young friends of Hein's.

"Don't think these are replacements for Daniel and Chrisjan," Hein tells Stompie, "You still gotta cover their production. These two are extras so your production target goes up by two skips'.

Stompie hands the two new boys over to Tiaan for training.

"These two bulletjies (bullocks) are Lukas and Jan. They have been sent to the quarry as punishment for wanking each other. Apparently it's a big crime up at the farm," he sniggers.

"Well, they gonna fit right in here then!" grins Johan.

"Huh!" says Tiaan, "Hypocritical old bastard!"

"What do you mean?," asks Johan.

"If you get caught wanking up there at the farm you get sent down here but when you're here it doesn't matter 3; you can fuck your brains out if you want!"

"I'm not complaining," says Johan.

"Ja, but what I mean is 3; it just shows he doesn't give a shit for us here in the quarry 3; we're just animals to him!"

"Ja, well 3;Just remember," says Stompie, "There's no week of grace for these two 3; They gotta produce full target from the word go 3; or they get the sambok".

"Geez! That's not fair!" says Johan.

"Well they're here on punishment, so there's no breaks for them. But you better cover their shortages 3; the production target for the whole gang is increased by two more skips 3; and you know what happens if the gang misses target!"

There are groans all round from the boys.

"OK guys," says Tiaan, "No use wasting time moaning about it. Let's get going 3; we got work to do!"

Stompie shows Lukas and Jan to their bedspaces.

"There are two beds open next to Johan 3; Seeing how you're already on wanking terms with each other, I suppose you'd like to be together?"

"Yes, boss!" they chorus.

"Get out of those clean clothes and put on a pair of old shorts, if you got 3; and lose the shirt 3; you can't work in a shirt 3; and anyway 3;" he says, noticing their unmarked backs as they peel their shirts off, "the quarry rule is bare backs for whipping!"

"We work bare back on the farm too," says Lukas, "but we get our jacks on the arse," and he peels down the top of his shorts to show Stompie a few purple stripes across the whiteness of his hard round buttocks.

Stompie knows that, although the work in the fields with pick and shovel is physically hard the boys up at the farm are not treated nearly as harshly as the boys in the quarry, who are beaten constantly. He suspects that it is because Department of Corrections officials sometimes visit the farm and Mr Basson is very careful not to do anything up there that will trigger a closer inspection of his operations. The officials never get anywhere near the quarry. In fact they don't know about the quarry.

The quarry is in fact a separate property registered in the name of a trust. As far as the Department of Corrections is concerned, all they know is that Mr Basson allows many of the boys in his care to work on community projects in the area. If ever they ask to view the projects, Mr Basson quickly arranges a bunch of boys from the farm to go work on a dam or soil erosion scheme in the neighbourhood until the officials go back to the city, although not before Mr Basson has squeezed some extra funding out of them for the wonderful rehabilitative work he is doing amongst the delinquents who have been entrusted to him.

For this reason the boys up at the farm are not beaten as often or as severely as the quarry boys and then only with the cane on the bare buttocks as provided for in Departmental Regulations. Some of the strokes are recorded in a register. This keeps the Department of Corrections officials happy and there are no crushed fingers or toes, scarred bodies or whip-marked backs around to shock them or the many other visitors to Mr Basson's 'model' corrective facility.

Indeed, Mr Basson usually finds it unnecessary to beat these boys to keep them in line, as the prospect of being sent to the quarry terrifies them to such a degree that the mere threat of it is enough to keep them on their best behaviour.

Mr Basson is very carefully selective about the boys that he keeps to work up at the farm 3; the youngsters of 10 and 11 and the most docile and best behaved of the older boys. Also those with parents who can afford to pay Mr Basson to make sure their sons are kept in the 'A program'. The rough and tough, the troublemakers, the poor boys and the boys without parents or with parents who don't or can't care 3; they all get sent to the hell that is the quarry.

Stompie thinks about all these things as he watches Lukas and Jan get ready for their first day in the quarry. He wants to warn them that they are in for a shock, but he knows that nothing he can say will prepare them, so he decides to leave it. They will find out for themselves soon enough.

The boys in Stompie's gang work like the slaves that they are the whole long and blistering hot day. Stompie keeps a close watch and is quick to spur anyone who slows down with a few stinging slaps of his leather strap. Lukas and Jan collect most of these lashes but they are a tough pair of boys and they take it in good part after they get over the initial shock, especially when Tiaan explains that Stompie is just trying to help them make target so they don't get the sambok at the end of the day.

"Think of it like your rugby coach jacking your arse while you're scrumming to make you push harder," Johan suggests. This is an image that the two young rugby players can relate to and they immediately lose all resentment at Stompie's interventions, even cheerfully calling out, "Thanks, coach!" when next he lashes them.

At the end of the day the team makes target despite the absence of Chrisjan and Daniel. Lukas and Jan fail to make their personal targets but they are not far off and their team mates are impressed by their first day's efforts.

Lukas and Jan have to pay for their failure at the whipping post, however, and their yells at this, to them, completely unaccustomed torture, echo around the camp. They get very little sympathy from the hard as nails quarry boys, who take a perverse kind of pride in their own toughness and who think that the boys up at the main camp are all a bunch of softies.

Afterwards Johan feels sorry for the sniveling pair and he goes over and speaks to them.

"Let me see your backs, you guys," he says to them. Wordlessly, they turn and show him their backs, each one striped with five double ridged welts, fiery red against their honey brown skin.

"Come on, guys, that's not so bad 3; it's not even bleeding."

"Well 3; it's 3; f 3;ucking s 3;ore!" says Lukas, his voice breaking with suppressed sobs.

"Look 3; it gets rough down here 3; whipping is a fact of life and you better get used to it 3; you just gotta show a bit of vasbyt 3; a bit of backbone 3; or these tough okes here are gonna walk all over you .. you understand?"

They nod through their tears.

An hour later the two have completely recovered and are boisterously punching and wrestling each as they queue for the shower after supper, their aching muscles and their stinging stripes forgotten.

Later, they sit side by side on the bed opposite Johan's as they wait for lights out.

"What you guys in for?," asks Johan.

"Shoplifting," they answer together. They look at each other and laugh.

"We were zukking stuff from the Hypermarket," says Jan, "And he 3; has to go and get caught," and he punches Lukas on the arm.

"Hey, I didn't ask you to come back and take the rap with me!" says Lukas.

"Ja, sure 3; I couldn't let you take the rap on your own 3; how would you survive here without me to look after your arse?"

"Look where you've got my arse to now! It was your shit idea to go have a wank in the washroom!"

"Where else were we gonna do it? We couldn't do it in the bungalow! You were the one who said 3; «It's been weeks now 3; I'll go mad if we don't have a wank together»," Jan mimicked Lukas mockingly

"Don't put all the blame on me! You also wanted us to do it together!"

"Well," says Johan, "You're in luck 3; Here you can wank and suck and fuck each other all night and no-one will give a shit."

"Won't no-one report us?," asks Lukas

"Who'd report you? 3;Everyone's too busy doing it themselves!"

"I wondered what old man Basson meant when he said we belong with all the other little sex perverts in the quarry 3; now I know!" chuckles Jan.

"Is that what he said?," asks Tiaan, as he gets up from his own bed and flops belly down onto Johan's.

"Sure," says Lukas, "He said the Bible says boys who spill their seed on the ground are gonna go to hell."

"Ja," says Jan, "So he says he's gonna send us to hell on earth so long, so we can know what it's like 3; He meant sending us to the quarry."

"Ja," adds Lukas, "And then he made us wank while he jacked us on the bare arse with that long rottang of his 3; until we cummed!"

"He said we gonna "sociate the pain with wanking so we won't wanna wank no more 3; But it didn't work, "cause that was about the best wank I had in a long time," Jan laughs.

"Luckily we were still full of juice "cause we got caught before we cummed," Lukas chuckles.

"But still, I got ten jacks before I squirted," says Lukas.

"I did it in six!" says Jan, proudly.

"Ja, but you had a head start "cause you got a big boner and you were feeling it off while you watched me wanking and getting jacked," accuses Lukas

"Sure, it made me jags to watch you!" grins Jan

"And when we finished you could see the old fart had a fat hard-on under his pants 3; he enjoyed the show so much!" says Lukas.

"Ja, and there was a wet patch in the front where he must of cummed in his pants!" giggles Jan.

"See! I told you he was an old hypocrite!" says Tiaan.

The lights dim, flicker and go out as the generator sputters to silence.

Twenty minutes later Johan grins to himself in the darkness as he listens to the purposeful sounds of Lukas and Jan grunting rhythmically and moaning with pleasure two beds away as their hard young hands drive each other to climax, oblivious to everyone in the hut. Just as one of them gives throat to the explosion of ecstasy that shudders through his body, Johan feels Tiaan's weight on his bed and then the warmth of his muscled body against Johan's back and his searching hardness pressed into the cleft of Johan's buttocks. Tiaan's big work-roughened hand slides down Johan's belly to close firmly around Johan's own stiff maleness 3;

Chapter 8

Like all the other boys, Johan has become hardened to the rigours of life working the quarry. His body has toughened and strengthened to the point where he too can swing a heavy sledgehammer for hours on end without a break. The sun has deepened his tan almost to mahogany. He has not an ounce of fat on his body and his bulging muscles ripple and glide under his hairless, sweat-glistening skin with every movement.

Like all the other boys, too, Johan's muscled back and buttocks are always latticed with welts, the older ones fading, the more recent ones various shades of purple and today's ones angry red and ridged.

Johan's shorts fall off him in tatters after five months of brutal wear and he has to go naked for the following month until the next clothing issue. By the time he gets his new shorts he is so comfortable going naked that, like many of the other quarry boys, he just continues to do so.

At first Johan still harbours a hope deep in his heart that he will be released at the end of six months, despite what everyone tells him. But six months go by and he hears nothing about being released. After he asks Stompie about it several times Hein calls him aside one day and announces matter-of-factly that his committal has been extended until the age of 18. No reason. No explanation.

Six months before Johan would have gone into a wild rage at this news. But his natural sense of anger and resentment at the brutal injustice of it has been numbed by over six months of gruelling drudgery and beatings. He accepts the news without emotion. "OK boss," is all he says.

The daily pursuit of tough production targets has become the all-consuming purpose of his existence now and, like the others, he submits to the daily whippings without a murmur, numbly enduring the pain of the lash across his bare back as an integral part of daily life and even as the justly deserved consequences for failing to meet target.

Now and again Johan's spirit takes spark and he rebels against his situation. But a few days in the hok, with its daily diet of bread and water and its vicious breakfast floggings with the long yellow rottang quickly dampens the flame and reduces Johan once more to docile obedience.

Like all the other boys too, the only thing that gets Johan through the long hours of toil and pain every day is the anticipation of the pleasures that the night will bring when the boys are finally left to their own devices in their huts.

The fact is that, apart from Sundays spent swimming or fishing in the dam, smoking the marijuana that some of them grow secretly or drinking the odd smuggled beer, sex is the only recreational activity that these boys have. The result is that the dormitory huts become a hotbed of frenetic sexual activity every night after lights out.

Although many of the boys have regular partners, they frequently fish in other waters, boys being naturally promiscuous animals. Johan and Tiaan are no exception and, although they remain best friends, both of them frequently pair off with other boys.

New boys, mostly virgins, are eyed hungrily as fresh meat and there is fierce competition, often violent, among the stronger boys as they assert their sexual claims over the innocents.

The new boys don't stay innocent for long. Most are quickly and more or less willingly drawn into the sexual abandon that prevails among the quarry boys. The boy who holds out is regarded as fair game, sooner or later to be subdued by any boy who is strong enough. After that he either becomes that boy's sexual property or he has turn to a stronger boy for protection usually in return for sex, of course.

Jan and Lukas embraced the sexual freedom of the quarry camp wholeheartedly from the word go and graduated from mutual masturbation within days of arriving. Johan has been with each of them from time to time and he knows their insatiable appetite for sex.

A year goes by and Johan spends his fourteenth birthday like every other day, not even realizing it was his birthday until a few days later.

On a Saturday mid-morning a week later, Hein and three of his friends arrive at the quarry camp on their four wheelers. They are barefoot and shirtless, as usual, and they have hunting rifles strapped to their bikes. Old Andries follows, driving the tractor, its trailer loaded with food, hunting and camping equipment. Hein and his friends are in a high state of excitement and, while Hein speaks to the bossboy, Stompie, the other three tear around the quarry on their four wheelers, terrorizing the quarry boys and laughing with delight as they scamper out of their path.

A moment later Hein and his friends race off down a track into the veld while Andries waits with the tractor. Stompie comes across to his work gang and calls out, "Johan, Tiaan, Jan and Lukas 3; go get your sleeping bags and get on the trailer with Andries."

"What's happening, Stompie?" asks Johan

"You're going on a little camping holiday with Lord Hein," he smirks.

Johan feels a pang of anxiety.

"How long for? And what we gonna do?"

"You'll be gone for a week. You gonna put up the camp, cook, clean and do whatever else your lords and masters want you to do."

"What about the team's production?" asks Tiaan.

"Well thanks for your concern, but the 'Makulu Boss' has generously reduced our target for two of you while you're gone!"

"But that means you still have to make up for two guys!"

"Sure, but it could've been worse! Anyway, don't think you'll be having much fun out there yourselves!"

Despite their apprehension and Stompie's warning, the four boys are excited as they pile onto the trailer. How bad could it be? Couldn't be worse than what they are doing now and, anyway, a change is as good as a holiday, they tell each other.

They enjoy the lurching ride on the trailer through the bushveld. It takes three hours to get to the campsite, a shady clearing near the bank of a river. Not too near, there are crocodiles sunning themselves on the muddy shore, half in and half out the water.

The campsite is on a raised cutaway about two metres [6½ feet] higher than the river. The summer rains have been good and the brown river is full and flowing steadily. A gumpole, reed and thatch lapa overlooks the river. On three sides of it there is a stone wall with a big hearth built into one side. The hearth has a scattering of iron pots, griddles and other cooking equipment. On the opposite side a doorway leads to an open kitchen space. Steel storage cupboards line one of the two sides that are walled. A gas cooker and a table stands against the other. In the middle of the lapa is a metal folding table and several canvas camp chairs. Wooden benches line the walls. There are electric lights powered by solar panels.

Behind the kitchen is a lean to with a steel rail, a pulley and chain arrangement and several meathooks. The concrete floor is lipped and in the centre is a large drain hole. Andries explains that this is the slaughterhouse where the boys will be expected to degut, skin and clean the animals that Hein and his friends will shoot.

There are four thatched and stone-built rondawels (round huts) between the lapa and the washhouse. Each one is plainly but comfortably furnished with beds, comfortable chairs, a sofa, a table and a small cupboard. Each one has its own small bathroom with shower, washbasin and toilet.

Hein and his friends are nowhere to be seen, although the wheel tracks show that they were there earlier. "The young basies (bosses) are out hunting already," surmises Andries. As if to confirm his words, they hear the distant thud of a hunting rifle.

Under Andries's direction Johan and his companions quickly offload and pack away the stores and the personal baggage of the four boys they are to serve for the next week. When Johan realises that Hein and his friends each have a rondawel to themselves, he asks Andries, "Where will we be living?."

Andries takes them down a pathway that leads a short distance through the bush to the rear of the camp. They come to a single flat-roofed corrugated iron hut screened from view by a reed fence. Standing on a bare concrete floor inside the hut are two steel double bunks with thin uncovered foam rubber mattresses. The steel windows have no glass panes and there is a row of hooks on one wall from which they can hang their few things.

Behind the hut is an open 'thunder box' toilet that smells terribly. A bucket with holes punched in the bottom, suspended from a thorn tree branch, passes for a shower. A metal washbasin stands on a wooden packing case alongside. There is a single water tap and, of course, no hot water.

"Well, what did you expect, guys," says Tiaan, "Did you think they would let us live with them?"

The boys claim a bed each and dump their sleeping bags on the mattresses just as they hear the growling of the returning four-wheelers. They run back to the campsite as fast as they can.

"Where the fuck you been?," asks Hein crossly, standing next to his fourwheeler, "You're not here to loaf about!"

Without waiting for an answer, he turns and points to an Impala buck strapped across the baggage rack of the fourwheeler. "Get this off, take it to the slagpale (slaughterhouse) there and let Andries show you how to slag (slaughter) it."

The boys take hold of a leg each and carry the Impala carcass to the slaughterhouse. Andries shows them how to hoist the carcass up with the pulley and chain, how to slit down the belly and the legs with the razor sharp skinning knife, how to loosen the innards and drop them onto the floor, cut out the liver, kidneys and heart, separate the skin, wash the carcass and hang it from the rail on a meathook to mature.

Hein and his friends stand about sipping coldrinks and grinning with amusement as they watch the quarry boys work the carcass, ankle deep in steaming entrails, splashed with blood and muck and trying not to gag as they reluctantly go about their unaccustomed and, to them, gruesome and disgusting task.

When it is done, Andries sends them back to the servants compound to clean up and then gives them final instructions about their duties in the forthcoming week. Each of them is to be the personal servant, or batman, of one of the "basies", as Andries calls them. The basie's hut and his fourwheeler is to be cleaned daily and his clothes washed whenever he wants. They must fetch and carry for their masters. They must cook for them and wait on them. They must make sure the geyser is always fired up and that there is hot water for them at any time of the day or night. They are not to go to bed until their masters have gone to sleep.

Then Andries is gone and the boys are on their own.

No sooner has Andries left when Hein and his friends pull out an ice box that they have kept hidden. Soon they are knocking back beers with the manic abandon of teenage boys bent on celebrating their new freedom from the smothering shackles of adult control.

The quarry boys sit on their haunches in the shadows outside the lapa and watch their masters enjoying themselves, getting ever more rowdy and boisterous as the alcohol takes control.

Later the tipsy teenagers get hungry and Hein yells for someone to braai (barbecue) some meat for them. Tiaan and Johan had earlier lit a fire in the hearth on Andries's instructions and the two of them now hurriedly fetch some meat from an icebox in the kitchen area and put it on a grill over coals that they rake together in the hearth. They make sure that they put on enough for themselves as well, knowing that no one will be looking after their needs but themselves.

As Johan and Tiaan tend to the meat they notice that Hein and his friends have turned their inebriated attention to Jan and Lukas. Hein has called the two younger boys into the lapa and they stand fidgeting nervously as Hein's friends question them about where they come from and what they did to get sent to the Boys' Farm.

"Ask them why my pa sent them to the quarry," giggles Hein, winking at his friends.

"Yes, why did Hein's pa send you to work in the quarry?," asks one, in a tone that suggests that he knows the answer. Johan realizes that Hein must have told his friends everything about the boys who would be their personal slaves for the week.

"For punishment," answers Jan.

"But what did you do to get punished like that?," asks another, smirking.

"We were wanking each other," replies Lukas.

Their tormentors slap their thighs and laugh raucously.

Lukas and Jan smile sheepishly.

"You like wanking each other?," asks another of Hein's friends.

Lukas and Jan look at each other. "Sure," they reply together.

More laughing and thigh-slapping.

Lukas and Jan grin widely, pleased that they seem to putting their masters in good humour.

"Do you suck each other, too?," another asks.

After a second's hesitation, the youngsters nod their heads.

There is no laughing now. Johan and Tiaan have also turned their attention to the two muscular youngsters in the middle of the circle. The atmosphere seems to have changed suddenly. There is a different kind of tension in the air. Hein and his friends are no longer lounging back in their canvas camp chairs but are leaning forward, watching the two youngsters like predators watch their prey.

After a long silent pause, one of them asks. "Do you fuck each other too?"

Jan and Lukas hang their heads, pawing the red brick floor with their hard brown feet, as they always do when they are nervous. They have also sensed the change of atmosphere and it makes them afraid. They say nothing.

In a voice that now has an edge to it, Hein says, "Well? Tell us how you like to fuck each other!"

The pair of them bob their bowed blonde heads in acknowledgement.

Not satisfied, Hein demands, "What was that? I can't hear you!"

Jan and Lukas mumble, "Yes."

"Yes, what? What is it you like to do," Heins insists, on his feet now and approaching them threateningly, his sambok in hand.

After a moment's hesitation, Lukas lifts up his head and says, flatly, "We like to fuck each other."

"Yes," echoes Jan.

"OK," says Hein, "Get your shorts off!"

Jan and Lukas look at each other, hesitating.

Hein's sambok whistles through the air and cracks against Jan's back.

Jan yelps in pain, but even as he yelps, he and Lukas are scrabbling to get their shorts off as quickly as they can.

"Now grip each other's cocks and start wanking."

With a fearful eye on Hein's sambok the boys obey. Their young masters settle back in their chairs to enjoy the show.

At first Hein and his friends encourage the boys with whistles, clapping, stamping their bare heels on the brick paving and calling out "Yes! Yes!" "Go! Go!" and, "Harder! Faster!" But as Jan and Lukas become increasingly excited, they fall silent and Johan notices from their flushed faces and shining eyes that they are themselves becoming aroused.

"Let them suck each other now!" one of the boys pleads to Hein, breathlessly.

Hein orders Jan to suck Lukas. Jan is so engrossed that he does not hear and Hein has to jump up and repeat the instruction, underlining it with a clip to Jan's ear.

Jan immediately sinks to his knees in front of Lukas and takes Lukas into his mouth.

In minutes Lukas is crooning with pleasure, his pelvis thrusting rhythmically with the bobbing movements of Jan's head. Hein and his friends are surreptitiously fingering the bulges in their shorts while they watch, riveted, as Jan sucks ever faster and deeper.

Suddenly Lukas stops thrusting, his buttocks clench, he jerks spasmodically and he groans deeply as his body is shaken by a long and shuddering climax.

"Make them fuck for us!" another of Hein's friends begs, his voice tight with excitement.

"Do it!" Hein says in answer to Jan's questioning look.

Almost eagerly, Jan fetches up a chair for Lukas to lean over, his legs splayed. Jan spits Lukas's cum into his palm and hurriedly lubricates his rampant penis with it before ramming it into Lukas's arse and pumping away with the smooth rapidity of an oiled piston in a cylinder.

By now Hein's inhibitions are carried away on waves of sexual excitement and, face flushed and eyes glazed, he yanks off his shorts and masturbates openly as he watches Jan grunting and banging into Lukas. Two of his friends immediately follow his lead. The third looks like he doesn't know where to look and tries to hide the bulging front of his shorts by crossing his legs and folding his arms over his unruly penis.

"Ag, don't be a moffie, Kurt!" pants Hein through his exertions, "Get your pants off and pull your wire, man!"

Kurt blushes at the taunt, but does nothing.

Johan and Tiaan feel their blood roaring in their heads as they are also aroused by the scene but they dare not join in uninvited.

Soon Jan's body convulses with waves of pleasure and his cry of release is quickly followed by those of Hein and his two equally uninhibited friends.

Afterwards there is an embarrassed awkwardness. After a while Hein curtly orders Jan and Lukas to go and get cleaned up and he and his companions disappear to the showers.

A while later they return and they devour the meat and potatoes that Johan and Tiaan have prepared for them. Tired after a busy day, Hein and his friends go to bed early. Johan and the boys are allowed to eat the leftover food and then they must clean up before going to bed. Hein generously tells them they can have a beer each but, when they think their masters are all asleep, they have a few more.

Under the influence of the alcohol and the change in their surroundings, as well as the unexpected excitement of the evening's events they stay up late, squatting on the brick floor of the lapa in front of the hearth and chattering away about the day.

Without realizing it, they become increasingly noisy. They get the shock of their lives when suddenly Hein's friend Kurt appears out of the darkness and says to them, "Aren't you guys gonna sleep tonight?."

All four jump to their feet in fright. They look about them wide-eyed, expecting Hein to appear with his sambok.

"Sorry, boss!" says Johan, hiding his fourth beer behind his back, "We didn't mean to wake you!"

"It's OK, you didn't wake me I just wanted to talk to 3; uh 3; to ask 3; um."

The boys look at each other.

"Yes, boss?," asks Johan.

"Um 3; actually 3;," Kurt turns to Jan and touches him on his shoulder, "I wanted you to come to my rondawel 3; I want you to 3;um 3; do me 3; I uh, I mean 3; do something for me."

"Sure, boss, says Jan, cheerfully, "Anything you want."

"Good," says Kurt, "Let's go."

Kurt and Jan walk away together. As they disappear into the darkness the boys can just see Kurt put his arm around Jan's shoulders.

"Well, I guess we know what he wants Jan to do for him!" says Johan.

"Ja," chuckles Lukas, "He's the one was too shy to wank hisself off just now!"

"I guess he got over that," says Johan

Lukas laughs, "Well I guess Jan won't be sleeping with us tonight, the lucky shit!"

"He prob'ly won't be sleeping at all," sniggers Tiaan.

"Ja," says Johan, "That reminds me 3; you and I still have to get something straight between us!"

"Sure, well, come let's go to bed and we'll talk about the first thing that comes up!"

"You can talk if you want 3; I want to do the first thing that comes up!"

"You can do my thing anytime you want!"

"Hey Lukas," says Johan, "Come join us 3; you aint gonna be seeing your mate tonight, for sure!"

"Sure," says Lukas, "I'm in!"

"In who?," laughs Tiaan

"Ag man, you know what I mean!"

They tiptoe past Kurt's rondawel on their way back to what Tiaan calls the 'slave quarters'. Peering surreptitiously through the uncurtained window they watch Kurt and Jan, both of them naked, as they masturbate each other on the bed.

"Didn't take them long to get going," whispers Tiaan.

"Ja 3; Jan doesn't waste any time when it comes to sex," Lukas whispers back.

"OK, guys, come on, I'm getting really jags now myself," Johan whispers urgently, pulling at Tiaan's arm.

And the three boys scurry quickly down the path to their hut 3;

Chapter 9

Hein is up with the sun and he sends Johan to rouse Kurt and the other two. Hein is a little hung over from the night before and he is clearly in a foul mood. He pokes around moodily, finding fault with everything that the quarry boys have done, and he threatens them continually with a whipping. The boys try to keep out of his way.

Then Hein opens the ice box with the beers and he frowns as he counts them. There seem to be fewer than he thought there would be. He must have had more than he thought he did last night, he thinks to himself. Then he does some mental arithmetic and realizes that they could not possibly have drunk that many. It dawns on him that the quarry boys must have had more than the one each that he allowed them.

"Tiaan! All of you! Get your arses here now!" he yells, his face reddening with anger.

Johan realizes what has happened. "Looks like we're in shit over the beers," he mutters to Tiaan as they trot over to Hein.

As they get there they hear Hein saying angrily to his friends, "I'm gonna give them a fucking good thrashing! They've gone and stolen our beers!"

"Geez, are you allowed to beat them, too?," asks Kurt.

"Fucking sure I'm allowed to beat them! Isn't that right Tiaan?"

"Yes, boss," says Tiaan.

"Please, can I beat one of them, Hein?," pleads Kurt.

"And me, too?," says another, "And me!" says the third.

Hein thinks a moment and then says, "OK, OK, you can each have a turn!" Turning to Tiaan he says, "Go to my rondawel and fetch me my sambok. No 3; rather start them off with the rottang."

Tiaan trots off and returns with the hated yellow rottang. He hands it to Hein.

"Get your pants off and assume the position!" he orders Tiaan.

Tiaan slides his shorts down to his ankles, steps out of them and then sweeps them aside with a foot. He stands side on to Hein with his feet about two feet apart. He bends over and grips his ankles, lifting his head up to look straight in front of him. The thick muscles of his back, his buttocks and his legs stand out taut and hard as he stoically awaits his whipping.

"You see," says Hein, "They know the drill 3; you don't have to tell them anything!"

Hein takes up a position to the side of Tiaan. "I'll give him a couple to show you how it's done, and then one of you can take over."

He taps the end of the rottang lightly against Tiaan's clenched buttocks to gauge distance. "Judge your distance so that the whippy end of the rottang covers the width of his arse and has enough length to curve around a bit on the far side," explains Hein.

Tiaan jerks from nervous tension with each touch and Hein and his friends laugh.

Then Hein twists his trunk back and reaches far behind him with the rottang before whipping it forward to drive into Tiaan's hard round buttocks with a crack that makes everyone flinch. Tiaan's whole body jerks violently and a strangled moan of pain escapes over Tiaan's clenched teeth, but Tiaan manages to keep his grip on his ankles.

Hein's friends watch with excited fascination as the fiery red stripe left behind on Tiaan's quivering buttocks mushrooms instantly into a thick, double-ridged weal.

"Wait until the stripe swells up like that and then wait some more. It takes about ten seconds for him to feel the full burn, so you don't want to hurry it. You'll know he's feeling the pain properly when he starts to sweat all over like he's doing now."

Hein delivers another two sizzling strokes across Tiaan's quivering buttocks.

"You see how his arse is quivering like that? You know you're making an impression when that happens."

Johan feels the stirring between his legs that he has come to expect whenever he witnesses a flogging, even when, or perhaps especially when, it involves his friend, Tiaan.

Hein hands the rottang to Kurt, "OK, let's see what you've learned."

Kurt is flushed and trembling with excitement. He takes a clumsy swing at Tiaan's buttocks but catches the middle of his thighs instead.

"Whoa, don't be in such a hurry. Take it slowly and aim' says Hein, "Try to land each one just on or below the last 3; it makes the pain really intense."

"OK 3; how many must I give him?"

"Give him another six 3; that should be enough for now."

Kurt looks disappointed. "Only six?"

Hein laughs, "Don't be greedy! You'll get other chances! We're here a whole week!"

Kurt delivers another stroke.

"Take that one again 3; it wasn't hard enough," says Hein, "Don't aim to land the rottang on his arse 3; swing it like you want to go right through his arse and hit his prick on the other side!"

Eventually, Hein adjudges Tiaan sufficiently punished. Tiaan straightens up slowly and stiffly, his buttocks on fire, his eyes shut and his face screwed up against the pain. He hobbles off painfully and stands next to the other quarry boys, his head bowed, the palms of his hands pressing against his bruised buttocks as if to smother the fire.

Hein gestures Johan forward. Johan hurriedly pushes down his shorts, but the elastic waistband hooks up on his by now stiffly erect penis and he has to stretch the waistband to get it over. Then he swiftly peels off his shorts, drops them on the ground, and steps almost jauntily forward, his inordinately large penis swaying ponderously from side to side as he does so. Hein's friends are mesmerized by it but they say nothing.

Johan bends over and grasps his ankles. He can feel his penis pressing up against his belly as he bends over. He thrusts his bare arse out at the excited group of spectators and gives it an insolent little wiggle. He is determined that Hein's friends will not see him cower.

The gesture is not lost on Hein, who instantly becomes angry.

"Oh, so you want to give me attitude?," he says, his face going red, "I'll give you attitude, boykie!" and he lays into Johan at once, lashing his naked buttocks with the long yellow rottang rapidly and repeatedly with such force that Johan is propelled forward, loses his footing and falls on hands and knees.

"Get up, you piece of shit!" Hein snarls at Johan at he continues to lash his buttocks and back.

Johan jumps up and quickly assumes the position that Hein prefers for caning, his chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath.

Hein suddenly calms down.

"Why aren't you wiggling your arse now?," Hein asks, sarcastically.

Johan says nothing.

Hein now gives Johan ten searing lashes, this time pausing between each stroke to allow Johan to feel the full effect. By the time he stops, Johan's buttocks are criss-crossed with livid welts, some of them oozing tiny droplets of blood.

Johan straightens up painfully and starts to move away.

"Where do you think you're going?," says Hein, "We're not finished with you yet!"

Johan resumes his bent over position.

Hein hands the rottang to another of his friends.

"Your turn, Dirk, he says, "Show me what you can do!"

"How many?," asks Dirk

"Five 3; ag 3; give him ten."

"Gee, thanks, Hein, you're a pal!" says Dirk excitedly.

Dirk is a big boy, powerfully built, and by the time he finishes with Johan, tough and whip-hardened as he is, Johan can hardly stand up straight.

"OK, Zak," says Hein to the fourth boy as he beckons Jan forward, "You do this one and I'll do the last."

Jan and Lukas get their whippings and Hein and his friends retire to the lapa for breakfast.

Kurt, Dirk and Zak are still highly charged with an unusual excitement. It is something they have never experienced before, this sense of unbridled power over other human beings. Being the sons of wealthy Afrikaner farmers they are all used to being obeyed by the black labourers on their father's farms, even those many years their senior. But farm labourers can always quit if they don't like the conditions and beating them has never been an option. So, to have the power to compel absolute obedience from boys of their own race and age, to be allowed to whip them with impunity if they disobey and in fact to regard and treat them as nothing more than slaves, makes them feel like gods.

After breakfast Hein and his friends ride out into the bush on their four-wheelers, rifles slung over their backs, to do some hunting. One of the quarry boys rides on the pillion seat with each one. Each hunter heads into his own sector of the huge game farm that Hein allocated to him at breakfast. This is for safety, so that no more than one shooter operates in one area at the same time.

Johan goes with Dirk. They ride for an hour until they arrive at a spot on the river where the sluggish brown water-flow widens into a reed fringed pool with a cluster of umbrella thorn trees on a slight rise overlooking the bank. Dirk cuts the motor about 200 metres [220 yards] away and sits on the four-wheeler, steering it, as Johan pushes it up to the clump of trees. Then Johan has to spread out a groundsheet under the trees for Dirk. Dirk sits on the groundsheet with his back up against the rough bark of an umbrella thorn trunk, his rifle across his lap, and watches and waits for buck to come up to the watering hole.

Johan is disgusted. He has never had an opportunity to do any hunting himself, but hunting is a deeply ingrained part of the Afrikaner culture and he knows from what he has picked up along the way that squatting at a watering hole and waiting for the animals to arrive is a lazy and unsporting way to hunt.

Time passes and nothing happens. Johan fidgets and Dirk is clearly also bored. Eventually Johan says to him, "It's too late in the morning to find animals at the water. They come at sun-up and at sun-down."

Dirk looks at Johan. "The fuck you know about it!" he says. It is a statement rather than a question.

Johan shrugs his shoulders. "It's what I think," he says.

Dirk stares at the watering hole and says nothing. "Oh, fuck this!" he says after a while and stands up, "I'm hot!" He strips off his shorts and runs down to the watering hole. "Come on, let's have a dip!" he calls out as he runs.

Johan does not need to be asked twice. He yanks down his shorts and runs after Dirk.

They splash through the shallows and then dive headlong into the deep brown water at the centre of the pool, lukewarm but still refreshing. For half an hour they splash, wrestle and play in the water, laughing and having fun. For a short while at least Dirk is not the privileged son of a wealthy farmer and Johan is not the convicted inmate of a juvenile correctional facility. They are just a pair of boys having fun in a river in the African wild.

Later, as they lie on their bellies on the grassy bank, drying in the sun, Dirk reaches out to touch Johan's purple-welted buttocks with his fingers.

"Jeez, I jacked you pretty hard!" he says, with a touch of pride and no hint of apology. "It must have been fucking sore, right?"

"Ja, you whipped me pretty good!" says Johan, "But it's OK, I've had worse."

Dirk edges closer. He traces a finger along some of the older stripes on Johan's back.

"Shit, your back's covered with stripes!" says Dirk, "You must get whipped about every day back there!"

"Ja, pretty much."

"How do you take it, man?"

"Ag you get used to it."

"You got great muscles, though - all you guys have," Dirk says with genuine admiration in his voice as he passes the palm of his hand over the bulging cords and knots of hard muscle on Johan's smooth brown back, "S'pose that's from all the heavy work in the quarry."

"Ja, I s'pose," says Johan.

Johan feels pleasantly relaxed as Dirk continues to stroke his back feeling, probing and massaging his muscles lightly. He tenses slightly as Dirk gently brushes his fingers over his bruised buttocks and then relaxes as he moves down to massage the thick muscles of his thighs and calves. Soon Johan begins to feel the familiar tingling between his legs and he has to lift his hips a few times to give his stiffening maleness room to grow. Dirk has fallen silent and Johan twists his head to look at him. Dirk is intent on his task, his cheeks flushed, lips apart and breathing hard.

Johan knows the signs well and he is not surprised when Dirk says to him in a tight voice shortly afterwards, "Turn over and let me do your front."

Johan turns over. His male member is thick and hard by now and he sees that Dirk's own member is straining up and bobbing against his navel.

Dirk starts massaging Johan's bulging chest muscles, moving slowly down his torso. Johan reaches up impatiently and pulls Dirk's hands down to his groin. Dirk gets the message at once. He quickly grasps Johan's dick and starts to slide his hard young fist up and down its rock hard length, awkwardly and slowly at first, and then more confidently and assertively as Johan responds, thrusting into Dirk's fist. Johan takes Dirk's own member in hand and the boys rapidly pump each other to an explosion of pleasure and wet release.

Afterwards, they both lie on their backs in the grass, their chests heaving as they savour the tingling afterglow.

"Shit, that was great!" says Dirk, "I never done that before!"

"You never wanked before? Whattaya mean. I seen you wank yourself last night!" says Johan.

"I mean I never done it to another guy before 3; and I never had another guy do it to me before."

"Oh 3; ja 3; it's different, hey?"

"Fucking sure!"

In five minutes they are fully recovered. They have a swim to clean up and they lie on the grass next to each other, chatting.

"Do you also do 3; you know 3; what those other two guys did last night?," Dirk asks.

"Sure, there's fuckall else to do when you're not slaving your guts out in the quarry!"

"What's it feel like to have your cock sucked?"

"I can show you if you want?"

Dirk hesitates. "Nah, it's OK thanks, I just wanted to know."

"Sure," says Johan, pointing to Dirk's lengthening dick, "That's why your cock is standing up and begging for it right now!"

Without waiting for an invitation Johan scrambles up and kneels over Dirk, straddling his outstretched legs. He bends down and steadies Dirk's bobbing erection with his hand before taking its swollen purple head into his wide mouth.

In the next two hours Dirk's pale blue eyes open to a whole new world of sexual pleasure under Johan's expert tuition. His experience until now has been limited to the occasional furtive and guilt-ridden masturbation in the privacy of his bedroom or in the bathroom. Johan's expert knowledge and easy practice of forbidden things is exciting and his directness and complete lack of shyness simply sweep away the inhibitions of Dirk's sheltered upbringing in a correct and well-ordered, church-going Afrikaner home.

Dirk feels almost envious of Johan. Being, like any normal boy, more physical than cerebral, he does not really know why. He just has a vague feeling that Johan is somehow better off or more fortunate than he is. He finds it hard to understand why. Johan is, after all, hardly better off than a slave. He is forced to do back-breaking work that the lowliest labourer on Dirk's father's farm would refuse to do. He possesses nothing at all of his own, not even the tatty shorts that he sometimes wears. He gets whipped almost every day, just to make him work harder, or even for no reason. Not even the stubbornest mule on Dirk's farm gets whipped like Johan and his comrades do.

And yet, Johan seems to have freedoms that Dirk does not. He is free, for example, from the restraints of moral society. Having broken society's norms, he has been banished from society into the company of others whom society rejects for the same reason. Society no longer expects Johan to respect its norms. In truth, society does not care if he does or not while he is no longer in their midst. Society couldn't care less about what Johan and the other boys whom society regards as depraved do with or to each other. As long as they don't do it in society. So Johan, whom society regards as being without morals, lives up to society's perception of him. He is free to do, without shame, what Dirk, in his world, would consider unthinkable.

Johan has a knowledge and a command of his body, and of Dirk's body, that puts Dirk in awe. He has a confidence and an openness that makes it hard not to like him. And, though Johan is a year or two younger than Dirk, he is stronger and harder than Dirk. His quarry-honed muscles bulge and ripple under his smooth brown skin with every movement. Dirk gets a warm tingling lurching feeling in his belly every time he looks at Johan's perfect body. He wants to possess Johan, to own him. He starts thinking about ways to do this. He remembers hearing about one of their neighbours hiring boys from the Boys Farm during harvest season. He wonders if it might be possible for his father to do this. Perhaps something more permanent could be arranged. Is it possible to buy him, he wonders. He thinks, with the sudden wonder of discovery, that his feelings for Johan, his desire to possess him completely, must be a kind of love. He is not the first to mistake lust for love.

Eventually the time comes to go back to camp. "Let's have a swim before we go," says Dirk.

Johan sits for a moment on the groundsheet, watches Dirk as he walks slightly splay legged down to the river.

Johan laughs. "Why are you walking like you got a carrot stuck up your arse?," he teases, knowing quite well why.

"You know damn well why!" Dirk says, grinning, "I'm not used to it like you are!"

Johan laughs again. Then he jumps up and runs past Dirk, diving into the sun-warmed brown water of the river.

Later they drive back to camp on the four-wheeler. Dirk sits behind Johan this time and teaches Johan how to drive it. They make their way back slowly as Johan gets the hang of it.

Dirk sits up close to Johan, with his hands around Johan's waist. He likes the feel of Johan's muscled brown back against his belly and chest. He slides his hands around onto Johan's hard belly and then down into the top of his shorts. His fingers play with Johan's cock, coaxing it into hardness. Soon it pops out of the top of Johan's shorts, reaching all the way to Johan's navel. Dirk pumps his hand up and down the long hard shaft of Johan's cock. Johan nearly drives into a thorn tree when he cums. Then they have to stop for ten minutes while Dirk quickly fires his own wad into Johan's arse with Johan bending over the back of the four-wheeler.

They have just finished when they hear the growl of another four-wheeler approaching. Dirk's cum is still dribbling down Johan's legs as they scramble to find their shorts and pull them on. They hop onto the four-wheeler and Johan gets it going just before Hein, with Jan on the back, comes into view. Hein looks surprised to see Johan driving, but says nothing as he passes them. The carcase of an Impala buck is tied over the carrier and Jan is sitting squeezed between Hein and the Impala. Both Hein and Jan are filthy and smeared with the Impala's blood. Jan looks miserable and, as they pass, Johan can see that his back is striped with several bright red weals. Wonder what Jan did to piss Hein off, thinks Johan. Not that it takes much!

Back at the camp Johan and Dirk are the last to arrive They are the only ones who have not brought back at least one animal.

"What the fuck you two been doing all day?" asks Hein.

"Ag, we just had no luck," says Dirk.

Johan helps Tiaan, Jan and Lukas to skin and clean the carcases. He asks Jan why Hein whipped him.

"I made just a little noise just when Hein was going to shoot a big Impala ram with these moerse big (exceptionally big) horns 3; Rowland Ward or something like that he said 3; and the Impala skitted and Hein missed the shot."

"Jeez, he must have been pissed off!"

"Fucking right! He made me cut a lat (switch) from a tree and then he whipped me good with it. And that's not all 3; he said he's gonna whip me with his sambok tonight as well!"

"Serves you right!" says Tiaan, "I'd also whip you if you did that to me! Next time you'll be more careful!"

"Fucken thanks for the sympathy!" says Jan, grinning ruefully.

"Ag man, you're a tawwe laaitie (tough kid), says Johan, "You can take it!"

"Hmm," growls Jan.

After supper, true to his word, Hein calls Jan up in front of everyone. As Jan stands there, nervously fidgeting and jabbing at the ground with his leathery toes, Hein explains how Jan spoilt the best chance that he had ever had of getting a RowlandWard trophy listing. You can see Hein getting angry all over again. Hein announces that although he has already given Jan a beating, he thinks his crime merits something more severe and that he has decided to give him twelve strokes of the sambok.

They see Jan go pale even under his deep brown tan. A small wet patch appears at the front of his shorts where he started to piss himself just before he regained control of his bladder.

"Get them off!" snaps Hein, pointing to Jan's shorts with his sambok. Jan strips quickly, anxious not to make Hein even more angry.

Hein loops a milking strop around each of Jan's thick wrists, pulls the loops tight and throws the loose ends over the branch of a tree. He orders Johan and Tiaan to pull on the other ends until the short but brawny Jan is hoisted up onto his stubby brown toes, his muscular arms spread-eagled above his head, his beefy calf muscles bulging as they strain to relieve the weight on his wrists.

Hein steps back and waits. He likes to watch the tension build up in the muscles of his victim's bodies. Soon every muscle in Jan's back, buttocks and legs are knotted hard and standing out under his smooth brown skin.

The sambok hisses through the air and lands with a vicious crack against Jan's shoulders. The breath is instantly driven from his lungs and he gasps, breathless, unable to even to scream as the most excruciating pain sluices along every nerve in his body.

His body goes into nervous shock, trembling uncontrollably and flushing hot and cold as he breaks out into an instant sweat.

Hein waits until Jan recovers from the tremors. Jan is whimpering softly now, the tears brimming his eyes as he tenses for the next stroke.

Again the sambok hisses and cracks, laying another fiery welt just below the first. Jan's whimpering rises to a strangled cry a split second after the stroke has connected and then subsides to a soft gurgling.

By the fifth stroke, Jan is crying continuously and he jerks and writhes in his restraints as each stroke bites into his knotted back.

Before the sixth stroke, as Hein waits for Jan to settle down, Jan finally loses control over his bladder and a jet of piss hisses from the tip of his long, thick, uncut penis, hanging down and away from his body like a half-filled hosepipe. The stream of piss hoses the dust at Jan's toes and kicks up little splashes of mud onto his brown feet and shins.

The last four strokes are laid neatly across Jan's hard brown buttocks, to the accompaniment of full throated screams that rise from the depths of Jan's barrel chest and explode into the air as roars of pain.

At last Hein is done. He inspects his handiwork with satisfaction and invites his friends to take a look.

Jan's back and buttocks are a latticework of twelve thickly ridged red and purple welts. Hein has been careful not to cut the skin, although there are few tiny beads of bright red blood where welts have crossed.

Jan sobs quietly while they examine him. His muscles are still tensed, but this time with the fiery pain that feels like his body has been scored with red-hot pokers. His eyes are shut and his face screwed up against the pain as he hangs there. Blue veins stand out and pulse in his thick muscled neck.

Dirk moves around to Jan's front. He points to Jan's penis with amazement.

"Check out his dick, it's standing out here like a telegraph pole. You'd think he enjoyed that."

Zak and Kurt crowd round to look.

"Ja, some of them do that when they get whipped. Sometimes they even cum. I dunno why," says Hein, "I mean, most of them get a hard on when they watch the whippings. I get a hard-on myself sometimes when I whip them. But I can't see why it makes them horny to get whipped."

"Maybe you must try it sometime," grins Dirk.

"Fuck that, nobody's gonna whip me!"

Dirk reaches out a hand and grips Jan's horizontal penis. Jan's eyes pop open. He licks his dry lips and his bright blue eyes look suddenly interested. Dirk starts stroking Jan's dick. The film of pain seems to clear and Jan responds at once, thrusting his dick forward into Dirk's fist, the bumpy griddle of his hard belly muscles knotting up with the effort of gaining purchase while still hanging from his wrists and standing on his toes.

The other boys stand around grinning as Dirk pumps Jan's dick, slowly at first and then harder and faster. Jan starts grunting and panting with each piston stroke. Soon the rising sensation of pleasure completely blots out the searing pain in his back and buttocks.

Then, just as Jan is about to reach a roaring climax, Dirk stops pumping and lets go, leaving Jan gasping and thrusting his straining penis futilely at the air. The surprise and disappointment on Jan's face makes everyone laugh.

Jan's surprise soon turns to frustration and anger as he is left smouldering with sexual excitement and no way to bring himself to climax as he remains suspended from his wrists.

When Hein finally allows Jan to be let down twenty minutes later, Jan's penis is still swollen and erect and he immediately wanks himself to a long and shuddering, deeply satisfying climax, to the amusement of everyone there.

When the boys all go to bed, Dirk furtively whispers to Johan that he must wait until everyone has gone to bed and then sneak back to Dirk's bungalow. "You can have a hot shower and then you can 3; um 3; spend the night," says Dirk.

Later, as Johan is sneaking into the camp, he bumps into Tiaan, doing the same thing.

"So who are you going to fuck?," Johan asks in a whisper.

"Kurt," says Tiaan, "Seems Jan is too sore to play with him tonight," he grins.

"Well, have fun!"

"Sure, you too!"

Johan peeps through the window of Dirk's bungalow. Dirk has just had a shower and is toweling himself dry. Johan opens the door and slips in.

"The water's great," says Dirk, "Go right in and have a shower."

Johan pushes his shorts to the floor, steps out of them and goes straight into the shower. He has been there barely two minutes when the shower curtain rustles aside and Dirk steps into the shower with him. Dirk's cock is already at attention.

"Jeez, can't you wait?," Johan laughs, as Dirk wordlessly squirts shower gel into his hand and rapidly soaps his cock. Then Dirk grabs Johan by the shoulders and roughly turns him around.

"Bend over," he orders. Johan does so, leaning his head on his arms against the shower wall. Dirk inserts his hand between Johan's legs and slaps against the inside of his thigh. Johan understands what he wants and he spreads his thighs, lifting his arse and offering it to Dirk. Dirk needs no invitation and he immediately thrusts his soap lubricated prick deep into Johan's arsehole.

"Jeez, you're 3; really getting 3; the hang 3; of this," Johan pants as Dirk's long thick cock bangs into him deep, fast and hard, lifting him onto his toes with each bruising thrust.

Dirk climaxes rapidly and shoots his load deep inside Johan. He quickly washes off his still erect penis and leaves the shower. Johan finishes showering, splashing away the globs of Dirk's cum dribbling out of his arsehole and running down the inside of his smooth and hairless thick muscled thighs.

When Johan comes out of the shower Dirk is fidgeting about in the room The moment he sees Johan he jumps onto one of the two beds in the room and takes up a position on all fours. He looks around at Johan and grins.

"OK, it's your turn, but I'm still a bit sore from this afternoon, so take it slowly."

Johan's half stiff cock practically springs to attention at the invitation. He looks around the room and spots a bottle of tanning coconut oil. He decants some of it into the palm of his hand and lubricates his now rock-hard dick with it. He gets onto the bed and kneels behind Dirk. He explores Dirk's almost virginal hole. He inserts a hard strong finger and slides it slowly in and out, gently stretching the still unyielding sphincter, lubricating it with the tanning oil. Then he guides the swollen purple tip of his dick into the hollow between Dirk's butt cheeks and up against Dirk's sphincter. He grips Dirk's hips and tries to push himself gently through the tight shut sphincter. Just like this afternoon, Dirk's arsehole resolutely refuses entry. Only one thing for it. Johan leans over Dirk's back and grips his shoulders firmly in his strong hands.

"Oh fuck, this is gonna hurt again," says Dirk.

Johan says nothing. He coils his body like a spring and then thrusts his ramrod dick as hard as he can into Dirk. Dirk grits his teeth and lets out a low strangled groan of pain.

Johan starts moving his cock slowly in and out of Dirk's arse. Dirk winces and groans with pain with each renewed thrust. After a few thrusts Dirk begs Johan to stop. Johan does not want to stop. The tip of his dick has taken charge of his body and he could not stop if he wanted to.

"Just stick it out!", he growls, as he grips Dirk even harder, "It gets better just stick it out!"

Gradually it does become easier. After a while Dirk's sphincter slowly relaxes and the pain metamorphoses into an exquisite kind of excruciating pleasure. Now Johan pumps into Dirk like a piston and Dirk's groans have become low moans that Johan can't tell if they're from pain or pleasure. Probably both, his experience tells him. Eventually Johan reaches a climax that erupts in the tip of his penis and races through his body like an electric stream of sheer ecstasy. He lies over Dirk's back and gasps as each shudder of pleasure pulses through his body and propels a jet of hot cum deep into Dirk.

Afterward the two boys lie side by side on the bed, their arms touching.

"That was fucking sore in the beginning," says Dirk, "I dunno if I can ever get used to it."

"You can 3; but you gotta keep doing it."

"OK for you 3; you guys do it every day! But who'm I gonna do it with after this week?"

"Ja, it's not easy if you're on the outside."

Dirk props himself on his elbow and looks at Johan.

"How would you like to come live with us?," he asks suddenly.

"Whaddayou mean?"

"I'm gonna ask my Dad if he can hire you from Mr Basson 3; or buy you or however it works 3; then you can come live with us 3; then we can do this all the time!"

Johan is quiet for a moment.

"That would be great," he says, eventually, "But it's never gonna happen."

"Why not?"

"It just won't. Quarry boys don't get hired out."

"I can always try!"

"Ja, you can try, but don't hold your breath while you do!"

Johan didn't want to say that, even if Dirk's Dad did hire him, it would be as a convict slave and not as a playmate for his son and heir. Johan knows what he is in the eyes of people like Dirk's Dad 3; a dirty and depraved little criminal 3; a sexual pervert 3; a dangerous animal to be caged and whipped. There's no way in hell that he would ever be allowed to get near Dirk.

Dirk reaches out and starts stroking the inside of Johan's muscular thighs. Johan spreads his legs apart and Dirk's hand slides up between them to where Johan's pendulous balls are resting on the bed. He lifts them up and plays with them for a while, watching as Johan's penis fills out where it lies against his hard brown belly until, in just a few seconds it is rock hard again and bobbing gently against Johan's navel.

Dirk lifts Johan's dick between two fingers and takes a closer look at it.

"Hey, go wash your dick off," he says to Johan, "I want to try sucking you off next and I'm not putting that thing in my mouth like that!"

Johan laughs and scrambles off to the bathroom to obey.

The rest of the night is passed in brief periods of sleep followed by long periods of hot, hard, muscle-wrenching sex. Dirk just cannot get enough of it and Johan's stamina is inexhaustible.

Chapter 10

Johan goes out into the bush with Dirk every day from right after breakfast until late afternoon. They spend the days hunting, swimming, fishing, charging through the bush on the four-wheeler and just generally having a great time in the sun like any other red-blooded South African boys would do in similar circumstances. Dirk allows Johan to drive the four-wheeler sometimes and on one occasion he even allows Johan to stalk and shoot a buck, a decent sized Impala ram.

As it is Johan's first kill, Dirk makes Johan go through the time-honoured hunter's ritual of cutting out the Impala's heart and taking a bite out of it. As Johan chews and tries to swallow the warm lump of raw and bloody flesh without retching, Dirk squeezes what blood is left in the animal's heart over Johan's bristled blonde head in a kind of gory anointment of his success.

The nights are given over entirely to sex. Dirk especially seems obsessed with it. He just can't seem to get enough and Johan realizes that, for Dirk, having sex with someone else is a new and wildly exciting experience. Especially when that someone else is a boy and even more especially when that boy comes from a world that Dirk's world would regard as dark and dangerous. What makes it even more urgent for Dirk is the realization that it will all come to an end in a few days time when Dirk goes back to his family and his normal way of life.

For Johan's part, sex with other boys has become a normal and integral part of his daily life as a young convict. He has long since realised that he has a strong appetite for sex and he is happy to enjoy it with Dirk, who, apart from the severe whipping he gave Johan that first morning, has been kind and friendly to Johan during this time that they have been together. And, as for that whipping, Johan does not hold it against Dirk, accepting it as just a normal part of his life as a convict boy under punishment and as something he had in any event justly deserved for stealing Hein's beer.

As their time in the bush camp draws to an end, Johan realizes that he has actually been happy for the first time since he was arrested just under a year ago. He has had a wonderful time out here in the bush, where he has been able almost to forget, for a few days anyway, the grim harshness of life as a quarry slave: The relentless soul-destroying grind of muscle-ripping labour in the dusty quarry under the searing African sun and the constant fear and pain under the merciless tyranny of the whip.

Johan begins to dread going back. It would have been better, he thinks, if he had never had this break, wonderful though it has been. Going back now is going to be even worse than when he first came to the quarry. At least he did not know then what was waiting for him. Now he knows only too well.

The last day of the holiday Dirk and Johan take their sleeping bags and some provisions with them when they ride out in the morning. They plan to camp out under the stars and return only the next morning.

Dirk bags a waterbuck and Johan a large warthog with impressive curling tusks. The warthog is unplanned. Johan happens to be walking ahead, with the rifle slung over his shoulder and his thoughts a million miles away, when he almost trips over the fierce little creature. Instead of giving way, the warthog goes for Johan with his tusks. Johan's lightning reflexes save him from a severe gashing and he manages to dart away with just a light graze to his right calf.

The warthog does not follow but stays on guard over whatever it is that he is protecting. This gives Johan the opportunity to aim carefully and drop the warthog where he stands with one round.

The boys see afterward that the warthog was protecting his burrow, where his sow is nesting with a litter of tiny warthogs. Johan feels a little bad about having shot the sire, but what's done is done, he tells himself, and can't be undone. No use being sentimental about it.

The boys gut their kills, leaving the innards for the vultures and the hyenas. Johan runs back the six kilometers [4 miles] that they walked and fetches the four-wheeler while Dirk waits at the carcasses. They strap the carcasses over the back of the four-wheeler and then head back to their temporary base overlooking the river. Dirk drives the four-wheeler and Johan jogs alongside, the tough leathery soles of his hard brown feet impervious to the sharp stones and thorns of the veld.

Back at the temporary base the boys wash the sweat, dust and blood off their bodies in the river while it is still light, it being too dangerous to do so at night when they cannot see if there are crocodiles about.

Night falls suddenly, as it always does in the Bushveld, and the boys braai their meat for supper over coals scraped from the fire that they have made in an open space. After they have eaten, they sit quietly next to the fire on the wide bed that they have made by unzipping both their sleeping bags and spreading them out over a thick mattress of grass and leaves. They listen to the busy sounds of chirruping beetles nearby, the calls of night birds in the willow trees that weep into the river and the spine-chilling cries of jackals in the distance.

Both of them stare into the fire, deeply pre-occupied with their own thoughts. Johan is trying not to think about going back to the quarry, trying to focus his mind rather on the here and now of what he and Dirk will no doubt be doing shortly. The thought triggers the familiar tingling between his legs and prompts him to lever his too tight shorts off.

"Ah, that feels better," Johan says, darting a glance at Dirk as he stretches his legs out in front of him on their makeshift bed, "Damn thing's too tight."

Dirk smiles, noticing how Johan's dick is slowly lengthening where it lies hanging down over his large set of balls. Dirk pulls off his own shorts in response and tosses them aside.

Dirk knows that this is the probably the last night he will ever spend with Johan. As the week has gone by he has come to realize for himself what Johan could not bring himself to tell him before that his plan to get his dad to somehow 'acquire' Johan from the Bassons was nothing more than a pipe dream. There are too many obstacles to overcome and, even if they could be overcome, the reality is that his dad would never allow Dirk and Johan to be friends. He realizes, with a sudden and great sadness, that Johan does not belong in his world, as surely as Dirk does not belong in Johan's.

Dirk's mind goes back to the yearly family holidays down on the Natal South Coast, to the friendships made on the beach that seemed set to last forever, but, despite the pain of parting and the promises of keeping in touch and getting back together again, were quickly forgotten once back in the busy round of home and school life. He realizes that his relationship with Johan is another such as those and that he must enjoy it to the full while it lasts. As his dad always says, "it was lekker maar dis nou klaar!" (It was nice but it's now finished)

He watches the firelight cast a flickering orange light over Johan's naked body, accentuating his exceptionally well-defined musculature with a copper sheen.

Dirk moves across the spread out sleeping bags to recline alongside Johan's legs. He reaches out and gently strokes the thick rough skin of Johan's soles, first one and then the other. He traces his fingers in and out of Johan's strong, stubby, squared off toes before brushing his fingertips over the top of his feet, onto his bulging calves and then onto his brawny thighs. His fingers glide to the inside of Johan's thighs and Johan spreads his legs wider to open the way to Johan's balls and his by now rigid cock. Soon Dirk is stroking Johan's pendulous balls with the lightest fingertip touch that he can manage with his fumbling boy fingers. Johan's balls lift off the bed as they contract with his touch and Johan sucks in his breath audibly.

"Sorry, did that hurt?," asks Dirk.

"No, no 3; go on 3; go on!" Johan answers in a voice tight with anticipation.

Dirk softly traces his forefinger up and down along the line from Johan's bumhole, between his tightly drawn up balls and onto the long hard shaft up to the swollen purple head that has stretched so far out of Johan's restraining foreskin that it looks like Johan is circumcised.

Each time Dirk's finger reaches the impossibly sensitive tip where the thick brown shaft joins the shiny purple head, Johan's cock bounces up to meet it, pressing against it eagerly, begging for closer attention.

Johan is breathless by now, his eyes glazed, his body trembling with expectation and his face flushed bright red with the hot blood sluicing through his veins. The tip of his cock is connected to his brown muscle-ridged belly by a thin elastic strand of silvery pre-cum.

Dirk gets up onto his knees between Johan's spread-apart legs. He lifts Johan's rock-hard cock upright and takes the head, like a ripe plum, between his lips. He slides Johan's long hard shaft a few times deep into his mouth, almost into his throat, before settling down to work his strong wet tongue rapidly over and around the sensitive tip.

Johan is moaning with pleasure now, virtually drumming his hard bare heels against the ground. The moment Dirk feels that Johan's cock is about to go into pre-orgasmic spasm, he spits it out of his mouth and goes back to stroking Johan's legs.

Dirk does this several times and it drives Johan nuts. Just when Johan can't stand it any longer and he grabs his shaft to wank himself to release, Dirk brushes his hand out the way and straddles Johan's middle. Dirk spits into the palm of his hand and wipes it over the head and shaft of Johan's dick, mixing it with the stream of pre-cum dribbling from its tip. Then he settles himself over Johan's cock and slowly lowers himself onto its hard and thrusting length.

Dirk takes the whole of its length inside him, grimacing with the pain as he does so. When his hard clenched buttocks come to rest against the top of Johan's thighs, he waits in rigid and breathless stillness for his sphincter to adjust to the thickness and for the pain to subside. Eventually the dull ache metamorphoses into a warm feeling of release and a hard to describe excitement in the pit of his stomach and Dirk begins to lift and lower himself slowly on Johan's slippery shaft.

Johan, in his eagerness to reach climax, begins to thrust himself upward to meet Dirk's downward movements. After just a few of these, Dirk feels Johan's body go rigid underneath him for a second or two before a mighty orgasm billows through Johan's body in waves of ecstasy.

Johan reaches out now to take Dirk's cock in hand, but Dirk stands up and disappears into the darkness beyond the coppery light of the fire. Moments later he returns with a length of yellow rattan cane in his hand.

Dirk sees the alarm in Johan's face.

"No, it's not for you," he laughs.

"What you doing with that thing then?," asks Johan.

"I 3; er 3; I want you to beat me with it."

"What?"

"I want you to hit me on my arse with it, same as I hit you the other day."

Johan looks disbelieving.

"What the hell for?"

"I'm curious 3;."

"About what?"

"I want to know if it has the same effect on me as it does on you and Jan."

"Oh, you noticed then."

Dirk laughs. "How could I help but notice that big thing of yours sticking up like a flagpole after I finished whipping you!"

After a moment's awkward silence Dirk asks, "Well?"

"Well what?"

"Will you do it for me?"

Johan hesitates a moment.

"Well OK."

"Well OK then. Tell me what I must do."

"OK," says Johan, looking about for a suitable place for Dirk to lie over, "Bend over the back of the four-wheeler and grip the handlebars."

Dirk does as Johan orders.

"I think you better tie me here 3; in case I change my mind before we're done."

"Well, if you change your mind, we can just stop, silly," says Johan.

"No 3; I have an idea that the whole point is you gotta be forced to do it."

"OK 3; you're the boss!"

"No 3; you're gonna be the boss now 3; and I want you to promise that you won't stop even if I beg you to."

"OK, OK."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Johan fetches the strops they use for strapping on the carcasses and he ties Dirk's wrists to the handlebars. Then he gets Dirk to spread his legs so that his feet press against the inside of the rear wheels. Johan loops a strop around each ankle and pulls it through the spokes of each wheel before securing it to the frame. Dirk is completely trussed and cannot move.

"How many am I giving you," asks Johan.

"I think 3; ten!" says Dirk.

"OK," as Johan takes a position behind and to one side of Dirk, "Are you ready?"

"Wait a moment," as Dirk tenses his body, "OK."

Johan swings the cane up behind him and then, taking two quick steps forward, brings it whistling down to smack into Dirk's clenched buttocks.

Dirk gasps in surprise and shock rather more than pain as he thrusts his body forward, his bare toes scrabbling in the dirt. The four-wheeler moves forward a couple of feet.

Johan engages the bike's first gear and jams on the footbrake before taking position behind Dirk again.

By now the first stripe has mushroomed into a fiery red welt and Dirk's arse is beginning to burn.

Again the cane whistles through the air and cracks against Dirk's buttocks. Dirk grunts as the strike lands and his body jerks violently against the back of the four-wheeler. Again he pushes the four-wheeler forward, this time just a few inches. Dirk lets out a low sighing moan while Johan jams a couple of rocks under the front wheels.

On the third searing stroke Dirk lets out an anguished cry and as Johan takes up position for the fourth, he cries out, "OK, OK, that's enough! It's not working. Let me loose!"

"Sorry, I made a promise," says Johan.

"Fuck that! Just let me loose!"

Johan answers him with another sizzling stroke across his buttocks.

Dirk roars with pain and anger, bucking and thrashing as he tries to jerk himself free.

"Fuck it, Johan, if you don't stop, I promise you, you gonna be sorry! I'll get Hein to let me whip the skin off your back!"

"You said I musn't listen when you beg me to stop," is Johan's answer as the cane scores another livid welt across Dirk's buttocks.

Johan realizes suddenly that he is enjoying having Dirk in his power, sobbing, moaning and writhing in the pain that Johan is inflicting on the quivering white flesh of his hard round butt cheeks. He reaches out a hand to feel the hard knots of muscle bunching and gliding under the smooth warm skin of Dirk's brown back as he struggles against his bonds. Johan feels his own cock swelling and lengthening and soon it stands up hard and stiff, bobbing against his muscled belly as he moves.

Dirk calms down as Johan's hand moves down his back onto his butt. He cringes as Johan's rough fingers trace some of the hot ridged welts on his smooth skin. He realizes that Johan is not going to stop, so he settles down to trying to bear it with as much dignity as possible.

By the time that Johan lays the tenth stroke across Dirk's arse he cannot stand the pressure that has been building up in his cock any more and he drops the cane and rushes forward to insert his straining cock into Dirk's exposed bumhole.

Momentarily surprised, Dirk nevertheless lifts his arse to meet Johan's desperate thrusting as far as his bonds allow.

Once again, it does not take Johan long to reach climax. After five minutes of rapid and aggressive thrusting, to the sound of sweaty flesh slapping on sweaty flesh and the animal grunts and groans of both boys, Johan has his second orgasm of the evening, even more powerful than the first.

When Johan unties Dirk, he sees that his dick is fully erected.

"Is that from the whipping or from after?," Johan asks.

"It's from after," says Dirk, "I want you to know the whipping did fuckall for me! I dunno how it gets you and Jan going but it sure doesn't work for me!"

Johan grins, "Doesn't work for everyone. You're just unlucky, I guess!"

"Anyway," says Dirk as he flops down on the sleeping bags, "I'm so jags now, my cock wants to explode 3; Get down here and suck me off!"

And so Johan and Dirk spend their last night together using and enjoying their hard young bodies like they were going to the gallows in the morning.

Back at camp the next morning the boys are kept busy packing up everything in readiness for old Andries's arrival with the tractor.

By the time everything is packed up old Andries has not arrived yet and Hein announces that he and his friends are not going to wait, they will go on ahead. When Andries arrives, the quarry boys are to pack everything on the trailer and return to the quarry with the tractor.

"You should arrive back this afternoon late. It's Saturday, so you'll have tomorrow off and then you will go back to crushing stone with your gang on Monday," Hein says to the boys standing in front of the lapa.

"But first 3;," Hein goes on as he picks up a leather strap that was lying on the table, "You guys have had a big loaf here this week 3; having a fat holiday instead of working. I had the problem before when the guys went back with a luigat (lazy-arsed) attitude and didn't want to work. So I'm gonna give each of you a good whipping now, just to get your minds right for work!"

"Oh fuck!" mutters Tiaan under his breath.

"OK, you first, Tiaan, for that!" says Hein, pointing at one of the gumpole posts holding up the thatched roof of the lapa, "Drop your shorts and go hug the pole."

Tiaan yanks his shorts off and quickly steps up against the pole, knowing better than to keep Hein waiting. He wraps his arms around the pole, stretching his hands up above his head.

Hein tosses a milking strop to Johan. Hein does not have to say anything. Johan knows exactly what he must do. Johan scurries into the lapa and, working quickly so as not to keep Hein waiting, loops the strop over and between both of his friend's wrists and then over the cross beam. Johan pulls down on the free end, stretching Tiaan and lifting him up onto his leathery toes. He ties the end to a bolt on the pole and then waits inside the lapa on the other side of the pole for Tiaan's whipping to begin.

Hein looks at Tiaan hanging against the pole in the bright morning sun, his swollen calves straining to hold up his weight, his back muscles standing out hard and knotted under the smooth brown skin. Hein admires the power in Tiaan's well developed muscles, the strength and hardness of his body and the sharp definition of his musculature. He feels a kind of proprietary pride in Tiaan 3; the pride that a coach might feel. After all, he feels, Tiaan's magnificent body is largely his own creation, the product of nearly two years of hard labour under the compulsion of Hein's whip. Hein always experiences a thrill at the thought of such physical strength and power being so absolutely subject to his will and whim and once again he feels the familiar stirring between his legs at the prospect of flogging that muscled brown back and buttocks.

The snap of leather on flesh and Tiaan's grunts and moans fill the air in the camp for the next fifteen minutes as Hein lays twenty searing strokes of the strap across his bare back and buttocks. The strap is not nearly as painful as the sambok but it stings like hell nevertheless and leaves a broader welt.

Hein finds it very satisfying to feel the thick leather strap connect with his victim's flesh, to see the muscles bunch and quiver involuntarily and to watch the kinetic force of the stroke seem to flash like lightning through Tiaan, jerking and slamming his body against the pole before escaping through his lips as a strangled grunt followed by a long moan as he shudders in pain.

Johan's dick is ramrod stiff and hard after the first few strokes across his friend's back, and he has to ease it out the top of his too-tight shorts, where it stretches up to his navel. From where he stands inside the lapa he can see that Hein and all the other boys have bulging shorts fronts too.

Next to be whipped is Lukas, short and stocky like his best mate, Jan. Lukas's long, thick, fully erected cock wobbles from side to side almost comically as he steps up to the pole. Just as comic is the way it goes instantly limp when the first stroke of the strap sears a fiery weal across his thickly muscled shoulder blades and extracts an agonized yelp from deep inside his bull neck.

Jan is next. Jan's dick is rock-hard and bobbing with the pulse of his by now hot and racing blood. As Johan hoists him up on the milking strop he notices that Jan's bright blue eyes are glistening with lust, his cheeks flushed and hot. Johan grins inwardly, knowing that Jan will feel almost nothing of his whipping in the high state of sexual excitement that he is in.

At the fifteenth stroke, Jan's body suddenly goes rigid for a couple of seconds and then begins to billow against the pole as he spurts hot jets of cum against Johan's belly and thighs, crooning with sheer ecstasy as he does so.

Finally, it is Johan's turn, and it is Tiaan that has to tie him and hoist him up against the pole. Johan is so hard and horny by now that he squirts his cum all over the still naked Tiaan after just a few strokes of the strap.

When Hein sees this he drops the strap, yanks off his shorts and wanks himself frenziedly to climax, jetting great globs of cum onto Johan's muscled back and buttocks, glistening white against his honey brown skin. Then, while his cum is still dribbling down Johan's legs, he starts whipping Johan from the beginning again. Johan knows better than to protest.

The moment the punishment is over, Hein and his friends mount their four-wheelers and roar off without a backward glance at the four freshly whipped quarry boys, standing naked and stiff, their backs and arses on fire, waiting for old Andries to arrive with the tractor.

After a long silence, Johan calmly makes an announcement to his friends.

"Well, guys, I've decided. I've had enough of this shit. I'm gonna bugger off!"

NEXT PART