Will K 2

Author: plugged
Title: Will K 2
Date: 28 August 2007

OK. Lets get you out of those wet clothes." he said as he returned
from the trunk of the car that was sitting about a hundred yards up the
track.

"I'd be better changing in the car then I won't get the dry stuff
soaked," I almost whispered as I stood and pulled the sodden jeans up from
my ankles.

I never saw it coming, just felt my head spinning as I landed on my
side a few feet from where I had been. I was holding my jaw as he
approached. He grabbed the jeans before I could get onto my feet and trailed me
down to the edge of the river.

"Strip!"

"Fuck you! If you fucking think...." I saw that one coming, his logger
boot slammed into my stomach as I bent to retrieve my jeans. The water
was half way up my chest as I sat in it. I struggled to get my breath
then accepted his extended hand to help pull me out. Only I found myself
back in the water. Finally after several enforced dunkings, enforced
by fists and boots, I sank to my knees at the waters edge.

"Please John, I'll do what you want."

"Well you should be clean enough I suppose, strip off. Here sit on
this." He spread some canvas in the shelter of a tree nearby.

I was shaking, both with cold and fear and ducked whenever he came
within striking distance. He found this amusing and even after he had
gathered my wet pile of clothing together he persisted in coming towards me
and reaching out with his arms.

I thought he was going to get me dry clothes but instead he turned to
the water and threw everything in including the contents of my bag from
the car.

"What are you doing? What the fuck will I wear? You can't do this..." I
swallowed hard as he approached.

"SIT!"

I sat and pulled my knees up to my chest, I could see more bruising
appear on my legs where his kicks and punches had landed. My whole body
was probably bruised. My lips stung where my teeth had bitten, I could
still taste the blood from my nose when I sniffed.
I was half convinced that I was the next thing he was going to throw in
the river.

"Shit! What you going to do with me? You can't throw me..."

"SHUT THE FUCK UP!" he roared acompanying it with a heavy slap to my
head.

The rope he had produced was now being wound round my ankles. A punch
to my balls removing any resistance. Forced to sit with my knees up he
then laced the rope round my wrists one either side of my ankles then up
around my upper arms and round my thighs.

I was shamelessly crying and begging him to let me go, blindly
promising him anything I thought he wanted to hear.
He punched me with another 'shutthefuckup' and I landed on my side. He
pulled me up by the hair and for the next few minutes slapped and
punched me back down.

"As you won't stop whining I'll just have to stop you myself. Don't
move a muscle!" He let go of my hair and I closed my mouth and put my head
down.
"What the fuck did I just tell you?" His tone and menacing manner as he
stepped toward me caused me to throw my head back and open my mouth
wide.

He wound more rope round my head into my mouth including a few knots he
tied just so they would fit inside.
"How is that?"
"I asked how that was?" he repeated as he yanked at my hair.

"There you should have answered the first time." he almost sighed as I
grunted and groaned through the rope.

I was lost, I thought as he pushed my head down after fashioning a
collar of rope to attach under my knees.
The rope burned as it was pulled harshly through my knees. Well should
drown quick trussed up like this I continued on this train of thought
as he pulled the canvas up around me. He hefted me easily roped inside a
canvas bag then as I was swinging I tried to scream, however instead
of a splash I landed with a thud. I waited for him to try again, but
another thud reverbated. I sighed in relief, he wasn't going to murder me
after all. I could feel the car moving, he was just teaching me a
lesson... no wait, the stepping stones, old ford... the water wouldn't be
deep enough he was just moving somewhere where the water was deep enough
to conceal a body!

It had all been planned out, I was too much trouble, an embarassment.
My family didn't want me anymore so they plotted to get rid of me. My
clothes and stuff I had left prison with were already in the river so
they would assume I had jumped in and drowned myself. They couldn't leave
me tied up though so I might still have a chance to get away.
Or were they going to leave me tied in a canvas bag which could be
weighted... canvas would last for years so no chance of it bursting anytime
soon, not that I could move anything to find the seams, if I wasn't
trussed up I might have been able to find a weak spot. My mind rolled
over and over as I tried to think of escape, John wouldn't listen to
anything I said, probably why he was the one they chose. I pulled at my
bonds again but think they just tightened at the knots. I screamed through
the rope in rage.

The movement of the car changed from the relatively smooth road surface
to a rough well potholed track by the feel of it. I ached more as the
rough surface bounced me up and down and side to side, making me feel
the bruises inflicted by my brother all over again. It stopped, the
engine died, I shook with fear and unloaded the contents of my bowels and
bladder.

It was several minutes before I felt movement as the trunk sprung open,
I garbled incoherently into my rope gag, appealing to my brother not
to do whatever he was to do with me.

"You filthy fucking cunt! Need to get this fucking car cleaned out you
little dirty bastard!" He roared and cursed at me.

Now I had him pissed off, so my hopes sank. He pulled the bag to the
edge of the trunk and dropped me onto the ground. This time he didn't
hoist me over his back he just pulled me along by the neck of the bag.
When he stopped I felt him grope around me then he manipulated the bag
till my back was at the opening end.

"BASTARD!" he shouted as he punched or kicked my side, "Filthy CUNT!"

I responded by releasing the remaining contents of my bowells. There
was no relief for me as I gasped at his attack and therefore inhaled the
full effects of my body waste which now was sliding to form a pool
around my head.
Time passed.

Was that him coming back, I strained to listen. Someone with him this
time!

"Fuck me. You weren't kidding when you said you had the shit bag to
show us." A strangely familiar voice laughed as the top of my canvas
prison was opened. However as the bag was pushed down to the floor all I
could see by squinting was boots. John's riggers, I recognised but the
other three consisted of army type boots and one wellie or some kind of
similar rubber boot. The odd boot was closest to me and I shortly felt
the presence of the other on my back.

"Oh well might as well start training it right away." I felt the rubber
gloved hands seperate my arse cheeks and rubberised digits inspect my
hole, then something thicker invaded me. The shock was swift as the
invader spewed a coldness inside me. I moaned as the coldness seemed to
fill and chill my central core, unsuccessfully trying to shit the
inavader out but I think it was being held firmly in place. The pressure built
as my abdomen expanded, now I could feel sweat building up and running
into my eyes. I heard a loud plop or plooping sound and almost
instantly something else forcing at my hole.

"Well I'm no going to sit here with my finger plugging its' hole, give
me that plug over."

The plug was worked slowly into my butt as I tried to expell the
contents of my innards, well the tip was then it was slammed home and I
wondered how the fuck I was going to get that back out!

"Sure as hell needs a good wash." Said the third voice, a total
stranger to me.

"Well Paul you can do it now or wait till after dinner."

"Well I'll wash out its insides and let it empty a couple of times. Get
me that bucket before you go and clean up lads." There was a clang
behind me shortly after.

Each time I was allowed to 'empty' the bag was pulled up - to make the
floor 'easier to clean'. I would be trained to empty myself and wash
myself out when told, yep including when and where I pissed. If I failed
in my training in anyway I could expect to be punished and that would
include being kept like a pig in filth and if I didn't understand that,
then I would in the next couple of hours. He rambled on and on like
this until he replaced the plug in my chute.
"Right up you get and we'll give your face a wash," his speech was slow
and deliberate as he talked to me, hoisting me on to my arse by the
hair. "You slave ... me M A S T E R P A U L. I t a l k you l i s t e
n and O B E Y!"

He talked like I was an imbecile or animal instead of a man, the last
word emphasised as he shook me by the hair which seemed to be screwing
the butt plug deeper into my arse. I blinked twice to confirm that I had
been listening but he still slapped me hard on the face with his
rubbered hand. Now he washed my face carefully. His warm stream of piss made
sure that every part of my face and head were well rinsed. I watched
him as he walked away, the tight rubber overalls clung to his arse, or
maybe it was coveralls, anyway they disappeared inside his waders. All
in one suit it was, I could see better now that he was further back from
me and turned with whatever he had retrieved from the box over by the
wall. From my limited view, we were in some kind of outbuilding of a
farm.

"Right we'll get on so I can go get my eats before those two greedy
buggers scoff the lot." He wound the broad tape around my eyes a few times
and explained what he was doing.

"Now we have a nice pail o'pigshit here, thats going in the bag with
you, we let you whats that fancy word.. ah yea, marinate, thats it, for a
while so you can get used to and think about your new status and life.
Now don't worry, the liquid will seep out of the canvas and you'll be
hanging over a drain which should make it easier for you when you scrub
the place out tomorrow."

The smell was bad enough but the way I was gagged meant some of the
stuff trickled into my mouth as he poured the contents from the bucket
over me. He tilted me back and poured cold stuff into my mouth telling me
to try not to swallow but to let my brothers piss just rinse my mouth
out and promised that I would get a proper drink of it later....

I felt the bag being closed over me, heard a rattle of chain and I was
swinging in the air. The canvas closed in on me and I could feel the
slops of shit, mine, piss, both mine and his and the contents of the
bucket rising further up my still restrained body. I swung and twirled and
would have indeed hurled my guts up if I had anything there to do so. I
wondered if it really was pigshit, had I ever smelled pigshit
before...??

inm8@yahoo.co.uk