Quarry Labor
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Hard Labor free porn video
HARD LABOR
By Velvetglove
Copyright and Disclaimer
‘Hard Labor’ is an original work of fiction and neither events nor characters portrayed are based in reality. Any resemblance with actual persons is entirely coincidental. It contains scenes of non-consensual sex and bdsm. Please do not read any further if such things offend or provoke you. The author does not condone such activities in real life. Copyright is asserted by the author and no reposting to other sites or commercial use whatsoever is authorised.
Synopsis
Set in 2013, a young married couple are sentenced to a life of Hard Labor, in a world where they have no rights. The list of story codes is not complete (I don’t want to reveal all in advance) but the following will NOT feature: young, teen, extreme torture, snuff. Hard Labor will be posted from May to September 2008.
HARD LABOR
Prologue
?Fifty Years, Hard Labor?.
The Judge peered down at them over his half-spectacles, a slight smirk on his rubbery lips. His tone was as casual as if he’d merely wished them ‘good day’ or asked them to ‘pass the salt’. He discarded five decades from their lives as nonchalantly as he might have wiped dog shit from the heel of his shoe.
Derek stared back at him, stupefied, feeling as if he’d been stabbed in the chest. He couldn’t breathe and his ears rang with disbelief.
Fifty years !
?You will serve the full fifty years. No parole. Case dismissed.?
The Judge sneered before lifting his spectacles off his nose and wiping them nonchalantly with a tissue.
Derek was 25. So was Fern, his wife. They would both be 75 years old when they were released.
If indeed? they were ever released.
He heard a titter from up in the court galleries. A solitary female giggle. Somebody enjoying their misfortune. Theirs was the last case of the morning session and by now the courtroom had almost emptied. Most of the onlookers who came to court each day to gloat had already gone for lunch.
Derek stared across at the middle-aged female clerk who was meticulously inscribing the verdict and sentence in a ledger. The whole case had taken a mere eight minutes. No jury, no witnesses, no attorneys, no defence.
?No !? Derek bellowed, belatedly. ?Noooo !?
Alongside him, Fern had collapsed in shock, fainting to the floor.
Immediately four Military policemen surrounded them both.
?No ? please ??
He felt a thud on the back of his head, scrambling his brains. He turned as another blow thwacked his shoulders.
‘Three months. Or six months at most. And it’ll only be a suspended sentence.’ The words echoed around his mind as he succumbed to the burly policemen.
He watched helplessly as two policemen hauled his wife up to her feet alongside him in the dock. She was sobbing, her lovely face distorted by anguish.
‘If you plead no contest that’s the worst that will happen’ had been the advice that the Citizens Advice Centre had given him. So that’s what they’d done. Pleaded guilty.
?Wait !? the Judge spoke out, above the tumult. He banged his gavel twice against his desk, the action making his double-chin and jowls shake. ?Apparently we have one application under the CLS.?
Derek turned. There was a glimmer of hope after all. The Convict Lease Scheme was sometimes used by relatives and friends to buy their loved ones out of the dreaded prison camps. Neither he nor Fern knew of anybody, but ?
The Clerk rose and passed a sheet of paper up to the Judge.
?I’ll hear the application in my chambers.? The Judge announced. ?Court is adjourned for lunch.?
*** *** ***
Carrie smiled at the Judge and handed over her Lease Application documents.
She tittered again, just as she had up in the galleries. She loved this part, the beginning. But this particular time was simply the best yet.
?You know I am required to ask reassurance.? The Judge said, sipping his sherry and scooping up a large handful of nuts. His black robes were stretched tight across his rotund belly and his bloated neck rippled over the top of his collar.
His room reeked of wood varnish and old leather, stale tobacco and aftershave.
?Yes, your honour.?
?The State has sentenced this couple to fifty years. I need confirmation that they will serve a full term with you, and that you will make it at least as hard and unpleasant for them as it would be in a State prison camp.?
?You have my word on that, your honour. At least as hard.? she emphasised.
The Judge smiled back at her. He was a lecherous old goat but she knew she was safe from him.
?What was his name ? Derek, wasn’t it ??
She nodded.
?Mmm. I think I should like to meet young er ? what was she called ?? ??
?Fern, your honor.?
?Yes ? Fern. I should enjoy meeting her again in more ? relaxed surroundings.?
?Of course. Any time. You know you only have to ask.?
He smiled at her, munching on a nut. ?In that case your application for lease is granted. Both of them for the full fifty years. I will notify the clerk.?
Carrie grinned back. ?You are most kind.?
?A pleasure, dear.?
?Thanks Dad.? She replied.
Chapter One
Flashback ? to May 2008 ? five years earlier.
Fern lay still, staring at the ceiling. She had to end it. Now. Today.
On top of her, Steele, her boyfriend, was grunting and slamming into her, as ever solely focused on his own pleasure, not hers.
He was handsome, and he knew it; tall, dark and strong, with piercing black eyes like coal. All the girls fancied him.
She tried to get into it, to respond, but the combination of his selfishness, her guilt, and their combined lack of lovemaking technique, didn’t do it for her. Once upon a time her crush on him had transcended all else but that was no longer the case.
He was constantly pressuring her to ‘blow him’, to ‘swallow his jizz’ to let him ‘fuck her ass’ and even to let him tie her up, or have a threesome. He’d pushed her once too often. She was a romantic. He was a pervert. She hated rude words, he swore all the time. She liked missionary intercourse, he wanted ?
Who knew what he wanted ?
Fern turned her head to the wall as he slammed deeper inside her. She stared at the Arctic Monkeys poster on the wall through blurred vision.
?Cum, damn you.? He murmured into her ear. ?Hurry.?
?I c ? can’t.? she whispered. ?You ? orgasm ? please.?
He licked her face, slobbering, and then reared up above her, like a vampire.
?Yesssssssssssss ? nnngggmmm ??
She felt disgust. With him. With herself.
She had to tell Steele. To end it. Now.
Because she had fallen in love with someone else. With one of Steele’s best friends.
His name was Derek.
*** *** ***
Five years later, Steele was celebrating his 26th Birthday. It was Monday, 27th May 2013.
He sat on the toilet flicking through a magazine. It was a weekly publication of slaves for auction, with their photos, details and price guides. He folded down the corner of the pages of those that interested him, to discuss with Carrie later.
He glanced downwards. He was wearing just his white towelling robe, hanging open, and his favourite pair of old comfy slippers. His chest was broad, his abdomen hard, his legs slim and muscled. He was proud of his body.
Between his thighs a new Asian slave was diligently running her tongue up and down the dark, bulging vein of his shaft.
He frowned at her and farted loudly, turning the page of the mag.
She was 23 years old. He’d purchased her and her sister less than a week ago after her family had been declared bankrupt. Somebody else bought her father and brother, another bidder took her mum at a knock-down price, Steele had sadly been outbid on her other married sister and husband, while other buyers snapped up her younger brother and two female cousins.
That was the way it was, nowadays. Families torn asunder.
Steele actually liked keeping husbands and wives together. After all, it was kinder that way ! But usually families of five, six or more, ended up under multiple ownership, probably never seeing each other again.
This one’s name was Jaz. Her chocolate eyes stared up at him with absolute reverence as her soft lips slithered up and down his throbbing erection.
She’d been a good buy. A bit overpriced, maybe, but worth it. She was well stacked for an Asian, with proper tits and hips on her nubile, firm frame. Her hair was long, lustrous and jet-black, hanging down her naked back in a ponytail that he could use to steer her if necessary. She had a cute nose, perfect white teeth and a bubbly smile. Of course, she hadn’t done too much smiling during these first few days of her new life !
She was still wearing a golden ring through one nostril, gem-stone pendant earrings and a red bindi on her forehead. He liked the ethnic look.
Steele grunted and expelled a soft stool. There was a squishy splat, followed by an invisible cloud of pungent odour. He smiled down at her flaring nostrils. But she didn’t cease licking him. Slaves usually never made that mistake twice !
He pushed hard, enjoying the spectacular ‘whump’ from below as his guts noisily emptied themselves into the special pan. His toilet was a generous-sized throne. It was set on a raised, carpeted dais, part of his and Carrie’s huge ensuite bathroom. There were their two parallel baths, separate showers, twin basins, a dressing table and a day-bed.
The toilet faced a wide window overlooking the grounds and countryside beyond. He liked watching his slaves toiling in the fields outside while he bathed, shaved and abluted.
He settled back against the throne, spreading his thighs wider, relaxing.
Carrie, his wife, love and business partner had left him to amuse himself for a few hours. He could tell she was cooking up something for his birthday party later on. He smiled across at the photo of his wife in a silver frame on her dressing table. She was the kinkiest, horniest, sexiest and most sadistic bitch you could ever meet. How many other wives encouraged – or even allowed – their husbands to fuck the workforce whenever they wanted ? Not many. Mind you, it helped that Carrie enjoyed a female slave’s mouth almost as much as he did.
The photo was his favourite; his wife was staring directly at the lens, her turquoise eyes were hypnotic, like a Siamese cat. Of course she was beautiful, but there was something else. Something indefinable. An aura beyond mere beauty. Her shoulder-length hair was expensively coiffed and her eyebrows curved like Arab swords. A single mole only served to highlight the creamy perfection of the rest of her face, the dazzling whiteness of her teeth.
Below, Jaz licked and slurped, eyes fixed on him. She was a beginner. Although not a virgin when he’d purchased her, she’d only ever had one boyfriend in her life, and her experience with him had apparently been limited to some clumsy handjobs and a couple of hurried fucks once they’d become engaged. But the Asian guy had dumped her when her family’s debts became public knowledge.
Steele, naturally, had proven rather less sexually patient than Jaz’s ex-fianc? !
So she was now undergoing a crash course in all types of fun.
And some not-so-much-fun.
?Kiss my balls.? He murmured, closing his eyes.
Her lips slid off his shaft and he felt her hot breath against his ass crack.
?And finger your cunt at the same time.?
He sensed her shifting position, moving her arm. Her tongue felt wet and warm on the sensitive part between his scrotum and butt. He blinked open an eye to check. Her dark doe-eyes were still fixed respectfully on his face. She was learning fast.
?Lower.?
Her pink tongue probed hesitantly but obediently into his damp cleft.
He winked at her, forcing out a little blast of remaining air. She grimaced and whimpered, her hand moving down frantically between her legs. Her tongue was sliding in and out, avoiding the dirty part of his rim. She was moaning quietly and her stabbing wet tongue was making a ‘pts, pts,’ sound against his flesh.
He stared coldly into her terrified eyes, enjoying her expression. The power of life and death was one thing. But he enjoyed much more power than that. Within just a few days she had learned the truth; that he held the power of ‘endless suffering’ over her.
He studied her pretty face. Tiny beads of sweat had formed on her forehead. She had long dark eyelashes that fluttered as she blinked with the turmoil of emotions in her head. He idly wondered if she would be able to make herself cum with her fingers while she lapped his butthole ?
Not that he cared about her pleasure.
?Feel good ?? he whispered.
Her eyes widened. She kept looking at him, burrowing her tongue deeper.
?Gonna cum ??
She gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head, signifying no.
He grinned. Who gave a shit ? It had always intrigued him, how women’s bodies worked. Once upon a time he’d cared about whether a woman enjoyed herself, whether she reached a climax, or not. But that cunt Fern had been the last time.
In the five years since they’d split, he’d only thought about his own pleasure. His looked down at his erection jutting unattended above Jaz’s face. He reached down and caressed his shaft gently, teasing it.
His wife Carrie was the only sex partner he cared about nowadays. And she, bless her, could probably reach a climax just by picking her nose !
?Leave your cunt alone and finish me off.?
Her hand reappeared to grip his shaft, gently but firmly round the sensitive ridge, just as he’d taught her a couple of days earlier. Her tongue was wedged in his butt, her face pressed in his balls and her fingers clutched round his dick. Mmm ?
He shut his eyes and gave in to the moment.
A dump, an orgasm.
All in all, a decent start to his birthday.
But, even as his balls unloaded their hot, sticky payload, he felt a recurring jaded tug of boredom in the back of his brain. Everything was all so ? familiar. He needed something new in his life. Something fun. Not just more of the same old bdsm scenes like all the others. Something to stir his pot.
Maybe Carrie could come up with an idea ?
End of Chapter One
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