THE ARKANSAS PROGRAMME - Part 6		



By Pete Brown (petebrownuk@yahoo.com)

Read all of Pete's stories in
groups.yahoo.com/group/petebrownseroticstories 





ON THE BUILDING SITE



As we drove along Jeff explained that he had been building new
homes on parcels of land for a long time, and normally these
were bought by the locals and, as there was not a lot of money
in Arkansas, prices were low and profits were small.  But now
there was some "new money" moving in, and the folks who came
from the North East wanted the sort of homes they were used to
in Westchester County - big houses, lots of space, pools in the
garden, and all set in a "park like" environment with luxurious
communal grounds and a good high wall around with security gates
at the entrance.  Jeff chuckled as he explained that the prices
for these new executive homes were far higher than he had been
able to charge before, but the costs were about the same - so he
was getting richer!  Still, he commented "those folks from the
North East think they're getting a bargain, so we're all happy".



The big problem he had was not in finding the land, or in
bribing the State officials so that the homes could be built in
unspoiled virgin areas, but in getting the workers to build
them.  "The Arkansas boys just don't want to work.  They're
happy sitting in their shacks in the country, and the welfare
payments that are set to keep people on poverty in the cities,
let them live well here", he explained.



And when he did get workers, they only wanted to use the
machinery, and not the heavy, manual labour that was always
necessary.  Even though much of the work in building new homes
had been mechanised, with back-hoes to dig trenches, and
factory-assembled units arriving by truck to be craned into
position in the skeletons of the houses, there was still an
irreducible minimum of hard labour necessary.  Not even the most
skilled back-hoe operator could dig trenches right up to the
walls of the new homes, for example.  So that's why he had gone
to the auction and bought me - he had seen that I was big and
well muscled, and looking at my particulars in the dossiers that
were available for each slave, he had seen that I had worked on
building sites before.  He reasoned that with my build, I must
have been used to hard work on a site - and, as a slave, he
could make me do all the jobs that he couldn't pay the Arkansas
boys to do.



_____________________



We pulled off the highway by a large builders merchants, and
Jeff asked me what size work boots I took.  He told me to stay
in the truck, "as we didn't want to frighten the other customers
by seeing  a guy in all his glory".   So he left me sitting
there whilst he went in.



I sat in the car park with the windows open to keep the cab as
cool as possible, and looked out at the other customers coming
and going.  The weedy guys picking up bits and pieces for their
do-it-yourself projects, and the women coming out with cans of
paint and stuff that were obviously going to be that weekend's
projects for their hard-worked husbands.  Several of them
glanced at me, but all they could see was my naked torso through
the open windows, as of course the rest of my naked body was
hidden by the metal of the truck.  I grinned inwardly as I
wondered what they would think if they came over and looked in
to ask me a question - most of those weedy guys would have given
anything for my magnificent body, I knew, and the women would go
wet just at the thought of my big, rampant cock.  Just the sight
of a woman again, even those unattractive suburban housewives,
was enough to make me go rock hard, and I thought about jerking
myself off: even though there were no tissues in the pickup or
any scrap of cloth I could use as a jerk-off cloth to catch the
cum, three months of living in the dormitory on the road gang
had taught me to catch the cum in my other hand and swallow it
down - I had even got quite to like the slightly salt taste and
smooth slick texture as it slipped down my throat.



But I had only just spit into my palm to moisten my hand a bit
to get started when Jeff came out.  Almost the only problem with
having a great work-hardened body was that my hands were tough,
too, with ridges of hard skin on the insides of all the joints
of my fingers, where my fingers joined the palms, and on the
ball of my hands.  It was no longer quite so much fun to jerk
off as these ridges of skin could catch my cock head, and the
rim around the crown in particular, and sometimes make me wince!
 That was about the only advantage I could think of in having a
woman to jerk you off - their fingers are always lovely and
silky on your cock, although of course they can't properly
anticipate your needs to slow down and speed up as you can
yourself.



Jeff had got me a pair of heavy lace-up work boots, several
pairs of white crew socks, and a hard hat.  He told me to try on
the boots to make sure they were the right size, and, as they
were, we drove off.     



__________________



As we drove off the highway, there was a large sign saying
"Lakeside Homes.  New Executive Homes all set in a woodland
setting by the lake side", and Jeff pulled his pickup to a halt.
 Looking around, there were 10 homes in all, in quite an
advanced stage of completion. 



We got out of the pickup, and Jeff led me off on a tour of
inspection.  With my heavy work boots and hard hat, I didn't
look all that different from the other guys working, except of
course that that was all I was wearing.  The other guys were all
in their twenties, thirties, or forties.  Most of the younger
ones were in shorts and didn't wear shirts, whereas the older
guys tended to wear jeans, and Ts or work shirts open to the
waist.  Almost all of them were not in great physical shape,
being 20 pounds or so overweight.



It was interesting to see their reaction to me.  As we went by,
they would cast a casual glance to see who was with Jeff, then
would stop suddenly when they realised I was naked.  Then they
all took a closer look, and I just knew that they were comparing
my hard body with their own flabby ones, and were inwardly
measuring themselves up against my great cock and low-hanging
balls. 



Work had almost stopped totally by the time we had got across
the site to the site office (a temporary wooden hut), so Jeff
called for all the workers to gather around.



"Guys, this is Steve", he said.  "He's an indentured worker from
a special government programme, and I have paid a good price to
have him work here seven days a week for the next two months. 
He's going to do all the jobs that you bastards are too weak or
too idle to do - so anything that needs hard manual labour, like
trench digging, carrying small quantities of supplies around
when it's not worth starting up the dump truck, or whatever,
goes to him."



"Other than that, treat him just like one of you, except that he
won't go home at night.  And under the government rules of the
programme he's on, he's wearing all that he's allowed:  we have
to be able to see those brands on his pecs and his ass all the
time.  I don't think any of you are gay, but if you are, you are
allowed to fuck him - if you dare, that is!  He's a mean looking
guy, and he's on the government programme because he beat up
several people.  So whilst he has  to obey your orders, I reckon
you need to go a bit easy in case he breaks out of his
conditioning."



"Now, any questions?"



The guys had started to snigger at the mention of gay and
fucking, but now were all silent.



"Right then, let's put him to work.  Joe - get him a shovel, and
start him digging the drainage trenches into plot 6".



And with that, I started to work on the site.



______________



After the sheer unrelenting toil on the road gang, digging the
trench on the site was a piece of piss.  There was no guard with
a lash to drive me on at a high work rate, and whenever I wanted
to rest on my shovel for a moment or too, I could.  And compared
to working in the open under the burning hot sun, the site was
pleasantly shaded with mature trees that had been left amongst
the new homes.



Even so, after about an hour I was sweating like a pig, but I
carried on until I saw all the other guys stopping work and
gathering by the site hut for their afternoon's break.  I didn't
know what to do, but being used to working without stopping, I
carried on.  But one of the older guys came over and stood
looking at me as I swung my shovel up and down.



Hitching his belt up to cover his fat flabby stomach a bit, he
said "Son - Steve, isn't it?"



I nodded



"Well, Steve, down here in Arkansas we always stop for a break
in the afternoon.  Come on over and join us - unless you're
embarrassed, that is!"



I looked him all over, and I knew he knew I was comparing my
body with his.  



"I haven't got anything to be ashamed of!", I said, and leaped
up out of the trench I was digging and followed him over to the
other guys.  They were all sitting around swigging on cans of
Coke, and I looked enviously at them because I was thirsty (and
I had of course never had anything other than water for the last
three months).



"Cokes are 50c", one said "We all chip in and buy them in bulk,
once a week".



"Well", I said, "As you can see, I sure as hell don't have any
money concealed about me!  So I'll have to stick with water!."



I think that broke the ice, because the guys all laughed, and
one threw me a can, saying "Have this one on us, then.  And
we'll have to see if we can't sell a stud like you off to one of
our lady friends for a night, so you can make a few bucks to
keep you in cold drinks!".



We then spent our 20 minute break doing all the things guys on
building sites do - talking about sports, and about what they
would do with various actresses from the TV if they appeared on
the site.  I couldn't really join in fully with this happy
joshing, because I was completely out of touch with sports, and
most of the TV lovelies they were lusting after were completely
unknown to me.



During the afternoon the prospective buyers of the house I was
working on did in fact visit - a big BMW deposited the guy, who
looked like a lawyer as he was wearing a dark suit even in the
hot sunshine, and his wife who was a big, long-limned blonde,
outside.  I was at once conscious of being totally naked, but I
was down the trench that was about four feet deep, so as they
walked in to inspect the almost finished house, all they saw was
the top half of me.  But that woman sure was attractive:  on the
road gang, I'd hardly even seen a woman, so this good looking
lady was a real turn on.  



Without being able to stop myself, I had a huge, hard erection
and I had to stop work as you can't swing a pickaxe with your
pecker jutting out straight as a ramrod in front of you.  Some
of the guys looking down into the trench saw this, and there was
a lot of hollering and catcalling:  I grinned back at them, and
told them that either they were a bunch of faggots not to show
their appreciation of that blonde as I was doing, or their jeans
were too tight and I hope it hurt them to strain against the
fabric!  There was a lot of laughing about this, and I think
they were starting to accept me.



Then it was back to work, and I spent the rest of the afternoon
really enjoying stretching my body to work at the pace I wanted,
rather than being forced to work at the pace of the road gang.



At the end of the working day, I was covered in a thin layer of
dirt from where I had been digging, and it was streaked over my
body where rivers of sweat had run down my chest, stomach and
thighs.  There weren't any showers or anything on the site, as
it was only a construction project not a fancy office, so I had
to stand and clean myself off with a stream of water from one of
the construction hoses.  It sure was cold, but after the heat of
the day it wasn't too bad:  the inevitable happened, of course,
and as the cold water sluiced over my body my prick shrivelled
and my balls contracted upwards pulling the skin of my sac into
a tight wrinkly mass.  Seeing this, one of the guys shouted out
"Steve sure has been cured of the effects of that blonde gal - 
he's just like a little boy now!"



Jeff came back to the site and led me over to one of the wooden
shacks that were there temporarily to store cement and other
supplies.  He unlocked the padlock on the door and we went in. 
In the corner there were a couple of blankets, and he told me
that was where I was to sleep.  Pointing to one of the sacks, he
said that was the slave mash that the Prison Service had
provided, so I should help myself.  A bucket of cold water was
there in case I was thirsty, and there was an empty bucket "for
the other end".



He then said "I sure am sorry to do this to a guy like you, but
the rules are the rules." And so saying he took out a pair of
ankle cuffs joined together by about two feet of chain, and
locked them around my ankles.  A chain from the left cuff was
then padlocked to a bolt that had been concreted into a big
block of concrete that was just standing there on the dirt floor.



"That's 250 pounds of concrete in that block", Jeff told me, "So
if you do want to go wandering, you won't go far even with your
strength!  Now good night."



And with that he left me, and I heard him padlocking the door
behind him, as an extra precaution.



__________________



I don't know whether it was the sheer pleasure of relative
freedom, or just being able to sleep in the quiet without all
the little snores, gasps and farts of 30 other guys around me,
but I didn't wake up by myself in the morning.



I suddenly came to as there was a slap on my naked ass cheek,
and I snapped awake to see Jeff standing over me, holding the
blanket he had evidently stripped off me.



"Rise and shine, to meet the new day", he said.  "Although you
obviously have already done the rise bit!".



I realised he was staring at my cock, which was rigidly erect as
most guys' are when they first wake up.



"Come on, I need you to start work.  But take a moment to get
that cock of yours down - most of the guys are jealous enough of
your tackle already, and I don't want them distracted from their
work all day wondering about they would measure up to that
massive thing!"



I sat up, rubbed the sleep out of my eye, and whilst Jeff
watched I pulled on my socks and boots.  My cock was still hard,
and so I did the little trick that I had been told about by a
friend once when I was about to take part in a gym exhibition at
High School, and was worried about the very noticeable bulge in
my shorts in spite of a tight jock strap - I simply squeezed the
tip of my cock with the tips of my finger nail on my thumb and
first finger.  I dug them in sharply and suddenly, so I winced,
and my cock subsided almost immediately.



Jeff saw me do this and laughed, and told me that when he had
had to go into hospital for a hernia operation, the nurse had
come to shave some of his pubic hair off before the operation,
and he had had an erection.  She had simply flicked the tip of
her finger at his cock, and this had been enough to drive his
erection away, too.  She had told him that it was an old nursing
trick when the nurses had to deal with horny males, although
there were sometimes now problems in hospitals with the arrival
of so many male nurses - they didn't like flicking the patients'
cocks in that way.



Jeff told me to take some of the slave mash with me, and I
munched on it as he took me to today's task - shoveling sand and
aggregate into a cement mixer, to mix concrete for the floors of
the yards and paths.



At morning break time the other guys were again nice to me, and
at lunch they even gave me some of their sandwiches - they tried
the utterly bland slave mash, and spat it out in disgust.  And
by the afternoon break I thought they were totally relaxed about
my nakedness, as I was myself, of course.



It was probably the hottest afternoon I had yet experienced all
the time I had been in Arkansas, and by 5 p.m. I was really
exhausted from the day's work.  I thought Jeff was going to make
me work on until 8 p.m., but he came over and told me that he
was so pleased with the way that I had really worked so hard
during the day - I had manned the mixer alone, whereas it
usually took two guys - that I could finish when the other guys
did.  



"And ", he said, "most of the young ones are going for a swim in
the lake before going home.  If you want to join them, I'll
trust you to go then I can chain you up when I get back".



There were  six workers in their twenties and early thirties,
and with the exception of one I particularly liked,  Seb, they
were walking off towards the lake, so I loped off to join them. 
They, too, were sweating profusely in the hot late afternoon sun
and the high humidity, and the waistbands of their shorts were
wet with their sweat that had run down their stomachs and backs.



"You guys should start to work naked, like me", I said. "You
don't get all that wet sweaty line accumulating around your
waist.  And when I used to wear work shorts with briefs
underneath, my balls used to be bathed in sweat by the end of
the day.  I stopped wearing  anything under my shorts in the
summer, so the air could circulate better up the legs - but,
actually, having no shorts at all is much better for keeping
cool!"



Some of the guys laughed nervously at this, and we reached the
edge of the water.  We all stood there, taking off our heavy
work boots, and then the other guys stopped and started to shift
around, nervously, and made no move to get into the water.



"What's the matter?  Are there sharks in there, or something? "
I asked.



The oldest guy in the group of swimmers, Mike, grinned and
replied "Steve... it's just that me and the boys usually skinny
dip in the lake. We don't bother to change into swimsuits. 
We're used to that in Arkansas - it's quite a tradition for high
school kids to start to skinny dip all Summer, and we're used to
it.  But seeing you standing there, with those plumped up
muscles, dark brown all over, and that huge set of tackle, has
made us a bit.... a bit.... well... shy, I guess!".  And so
saying, he slipped his thumbs under the waistband of his shorts,
and with one quick gesture pushed them and his briefs underneath
down to his ankles, stepped out of them, and ran into the lake.



I followed him, and quick as a flash, all six of us were
swimming around.  I was a good swimmer, and started to do
"lengths" of the lake in my fast crawl.  After a bit, I saw the
other guys clustered in one place, and swam over to join them. 
They were in deep water, and had linked arms around each others
shoulders so that they could semi-float, just using the minimum
of kicking motions to stay afloat.  I pushed in between Mike and
one of the others, Jon, broke them apart, and inserted myself
into the ring, twining my arms and shoulders with Mike's and
Jon's.



"Hey, guys, this is great, isn't it?" I said.  "When I was on
the high school swimming team we had to swim in those tight
Speedos, but swimming nude is so much better - don't you just
love the way the water flows over your balls when you're
thrusting through the water? "



"Our local public pool used to have one night a week as a men's
night, and costumes were optional.  I used to go along and swim
naked, but when my folks found out, they made me stop.  Dad
didn't like the fact that a lot of older guys used to go along
and just sit on the side and watch us young studs swimming and
larking around - in general, only us studs with good bodies left
our costumes off, and the older guys wore big swimming shorts. 
And when we had the half-hour session of nude water polo, even
then you could see that most of the watchers had huge erections
in spite of all the spare fabric on the front of the shorts."



"Do you have that around here, so a bunch of guys can get
together and swim naked, or do you rely on finding a private
place like this new lake?"     



They didn't really answer me, and I felt that they were uneasy
with having me in their circle, as it soon broke up, we swam a
bit more, and then all make for the lakeside terrace.



They all had towels to dry off, but of course I didn't so I just
shucked most of the water off my body by running my hands all
over it.  Then when I saw that Mike had finished drying himself
and was pulling his shorts back on, I reached over and picked up
his wet towel and started to use it to finish drying myself, as
a little breeze had got up and even in the hot evening air,
having a breeze playing over your wet skin can make you feel
chill.



"Hey, Steve, what the fuck do you think you're doing?", Mike
snapped.



"Sorry, man.  I thought you had finished drying yourself, and I
just wanted to get this last water off me".



"You can't use another guy's towel like that - it's unhygienic."



"Sorry again, Mike.  I thought you would take it straight home
and get your old lady to put it in the wash.  I didn't think
you'd use it again before washing, and be worried about catching
something from me!"



Mike then saw what I was going on about, grinned and replied



"It wasn't me I was worried about - I didn't like to think of
you using a towel that had been up my ass and around my cock.  I
thought you thought I had only used that towel on my head, or
something!"



So, as all of them listened, I told them how three months on the
road gang had taken away any inhibitions I had ever had about
sharing anything with another guy.  We weren't really allowed
towels at all on the gang, but of course we shared razors which
had to scrape our faces and our asses and sacs.  And I told them
about the cum-stiff mattresses in the overnight slave cages, and
how we didn't have a choice of which one we slept on.  "So you
see", I finished, "using another guy's towel, even if it has
been used to dry his ass crack, isn't a problem - after all that
swimming, all your asses will be clean anyway, even if they
weren't before!".



They all laughed, and I saw that another step had been taken to
break the ice and really start to treat me just as "one of the
boys from Arkansas".  They went off to their trucks to drive
home, and I went over to be shackled in the hut by Jeff, who by
now had come back.



___________________



By Friday night, with one exception, it was just as if I was a
regular member of the gang working on the site.  The guys
treated me as "one of them", gave me drinks as I had no money,
shared their food with me (some of them had their women include
extra pieces of pie, and more fruit, in their lunch boxes so
they could give it to me), and we chatted and joked just as any
bunch of working men do together.



The one exception was Jon, who I thought was about 26, like me. 
He was probably the most athletic looking of all the workers,
but his job was mostly sitting down all day as he was the driver
of the back hoe and did most of the heavy moving and site work
with it.  He only occasionally jumped down out of the cab to
shovel at some truly inaccessible part, or to clear something
that had got hopelessly tangled up.  I didn't know why he
apparently didn't like me, as I had never done anything, as far
as I know, to offend him.  But he almost totally ignored me at
the break-time sessions, and never said a civil word to me when
we were swimming or anything.   



As he was chaining me up on Friday night, Jeff reminded me that
even though the other workers would not be there for the next
two days, I was enslaved to work seven days a week.



"I guess that's a good thing, anyway", he said, "as otherwise
you'd be chained up in this hut until Monday morning.  We're a
bit behind on the over site preparations, so I've got Jon to
come in and do overtime tomorrow and you can help him all day. 
But no one can work on Sunday - they're very bible-fearing here
in Arkansas - so on Saturday night I have told Jon to chain you
up as usual but to be sure to leave you a full bucket of water
to drink, and an empty bucket for you to crap and piss in. The
slave mash is in there, so you won't starve."



I lay there on Friday night before going to sleep thinking how
much better it would have been if one of the others, like Seb,
had been coming in the following day rather than Jon.  We could
have had a bit of a laugh over lunch, but with Jon, I knew I
would be lucky to get any words at all.



I woke early on Saturday morning, as I didn't want to have Jon
see me with my morning hard on.  I jerked off as soon as I woke
up, and as there was no tissue or cum-cloth in the hut, I did
what I had learned to do on the road gang - I caught my cum in
the palm of my other hand, then quickly slurped it down,
followed by a drink from the bucket to clear my throat of the
slightly viscous sensation of the cum.



Jon then came, and seemed a bit surprised to see me lying there
naked with my ankle chained to the floor.  He took out the key,
squatted down, and, without looking at me or saying anything,
released my shackle.  Then, still without saying a word, went
outside without waiting to see me put on my socks and boots. 



I heard the back hoe fire up, and went out to start work,
without breakfast.



We were clearing the back yard area of one of the houses, and
there was a lot of interaction needed between the back hoe
driver and the hand labourer - so Jon was forced to keep
shouting instructions and so on to me, even thought it was clear
from his manner he really didn't like communicating with me at
all.



After a couple of hours, he turned off the machine and jumped
down, and went over towards the hut for his morning break.  I
went over to join him, as I usually did, but took with me a load
of slave mash as I knew Jon would not share any of his food with
me.  He sat there, silently eating a sandwich and swigging a can
of Coke, as I munched on the bland slave mash directly from my
hands.



Jon looked disgusted, then said "Get way from me - I'm trying to
eat.  I don't want to have to sit next to an animal like you. 
You can't even eat decently!"



"Hey, sorry, man.  Do you think I want to eat this crap, with my
fingers?  But there's nothing else, and no implements to eat it
with.  Part of the Programme I'm on is to punish me by , making
me go naked, branding me, making me eat slave food, and making
me feel like an animal when I have to feed with my fingers.  It
shows it's working ,when a decent guy like you even calls me an
animal!"



"What have I ever done to upset you?  I get along with all the
other guys, I work hard and don't cause anyone any trouble.  You
don't have to like me, but you could at least be civil!"



Jon glared at me and rapped back "You're a fucking rapist - Jeff
told us about your record and why you're on this government
Programme.  Rapists are animals, and deserve to be treated as
such.   No... we should treat animals with respect - rapists
shouldn't even get that.  My younger sister was raped, and if I
could have caught up with the animal that did it, I would have
made sure he never did it again - I would have cut his balls
off.  Instead of that, I have to come to work every day and see
a rapist flaunting his cock and balls around and being proud of
them.  Did it feel good to stick that big fat cock of yours up
some young girl against her will.  Did you just stick it up her
pussy, or up her ass as well, as my sister had done to her?"



"You know fuck all about it", I screamed at him.  "I'm not some
pervert that would go for young girls!  Do you want to know the
truth?"



"Oh, so it was young boys whose asses you violated, then, was
it?", he sneered.



"Listen - if you want to hear the whole story, I'll tell you.
Otherwise shut the fuck up. And if you ever accuse me of
sticking my prick up young boys, I'll beat your head in - even
though it will add 10 years at least to my sentence.  I'm not
some sort of gay queer, and don't you ever say anything like
that about me again."



So then I told him my story, and afterwards I finished with "So,
mister self-righteous, what would you have done?  If you get
home tonight and find one of your mates - let's say Seb - in bed
with your old lady, what are you going to do?  Close the bedroom
door, walk away, and thank Seb for looking after her whilst
you're here working?   Or are you going to do what I did - beat
the shit out of him, and fuck her one last time?"



"The only reason I have 'rapist' on my record is because I
flushed another man's cum out of my wife's cunt with a big shot
of my own, even though she was crying 'no'.  Technically, that's
rape.  But I bet there's not another man on this site, including
you, who wouldn't do the same thing."



Jon looked at me, and, with great difficulty, said "hey, man,
I'm sorry.  Sorry for all your troubles, especially as you
obviously liked your old lady a lot.  And really sorry for being
suck a prick all the week.  Here... ", he held out his hand
"...shake and let's be buddies."



As I shook his hand, I said "Jon, I'm really sorry to hear about
your sister.  Did they ever catch the guy?  What happened to
her?"



"No - somewhere around here there's some smug bastard who still
occasionally grabs a young college girl and rapes her.  My
sister was one of the early ones.  She was brave, though, and
went to the police - a lot of them didn't before - and made a
big fuss.  She told the papers there was nothing she had done to
be ashamed of, and if women didn't speak out, rapists would go
on getting away with it.  I think being very public about it,
and campaigning about it, enabled her to get over the trauma. 
She had an abortion - although she had to go out of State to get
it, as it was not possible at that time here in Arkansas - then
went back to college.  She's living happily now in upstate New
York, with her husband and their first kid.  She's just got a
good job with a dot.com startup, and now she sends her big
brother expensive birthday and Christmas gifts."



"Well, if it's any consolation, if the guy is caught, he'll have
a hard time in prison.  There was a child molester on the
Programme I'm on, and one day he was found in the showers with
his balls cut off - I don't know how the others did it, as we
aren't allowed knives or anything. I think the guards snuck it
in, so he could be punished even more severely than by serving
time on the Programme - and, God knows, that's hard enough."



Jon looked at his watch then, and said, "OK, I'm in charge
today, you know.  Back to work, Steve".



Using my name like that, I knew that he and I were now right
with each other, and we worked away as a good team, making such
excellent progress that by 4 p.m. we were finished.



I was very hot and sweaty as usual, and Jon was, too, as he got
down from the cab.  "Swim before you go?", I asked.



"Race you to it!", Jon shouted, as he set off for the water.  
We got to the water's edge at about the same time, and stood
there, hopping from foot to foot, as we got out of our boots and
socks.  But I beat him into the water because he then had to
stop to shuck off his shorts.



Like me, he was a good swimmer, and we raced each other up and
down the lake in a proper, competitive, guy way.  After 10
lengths, we both sort of  gasped "stop" simultaneously, and
waded out to the lakeside terrace.



"Shit!", Jon said, "I haven't got a towel - I didn't think I was
going to give a bastard like you the chance to have a refreshing
swim!  I was just going to enjoy chaining you up for the
weekend, all sweaty!"



"Don't bother", I replied, and showed him how to scrape the
water off his body.  As his hands went across his genitals, I
could see that he was a bit embarrassed - even guys who are
athletes and used to communal changing rooms can be a bit
embarrassed when it's "one on one" with only two guys together,
especially when it's not in the enclosed environment of a proper
locker room.



But we both had most of the water off, then I suggested we lay
down and let the sun dry the remainder of it, so we flopped down
onto our stomachs and let the warm sun burn into our backs,
asses, and thighs.  Anyone looking on would have thought we were
a couple of friends who had just seized the opportunity to
skinny-dip, but I suppose they might have wondered why I was a
dark tan all over, whereas Jon's ass and thighs stood out
starkly from the rest of his tanned body, where his shorts
usually covered him.  



When my back was dry, I rolled over, and expected Jon to do the
same.  But he didn't, and just lay there on his front.  After a
couple of minutes I told him to turn over otherwise he would get
a sunburned ass, but he made no move.  So I reminded him again
in another  couple of minutes, and then, shyly, he rolled over. 



I then realised why he was reluctant to turn over onto his back
- he almost had a full erection.  I guessed he had become erect
when lying on his stomach, but had been able to press his cock
into the paving.  He hadn't wanted to turn over and let me see
it, and had only done so when it had started to go down, and
when the sun on his back had become intolerable.  



"Hey, Jon, the average guy has at least 20 erections a day! 
You've all seen me with one on this site, as they strike me even
when I'm working.  So don't worry about it - remember, I've
spend months working, living and sleeping with 30 totally nude
guys.  Do you think I haven't had my eye full of erections in
that time?"



"Sorry, Steve.  But it's not as simple as that.  I was horny for
my old lady, who's away for a week at her mom's place.  But
having an erection in front of other guys is just something we
just don't do around here - I guess it's different when you're
on that Programme and are required to be nude all the time, but
for us ordinary guys, erections in front of other guys says only
one thing in Arkansas - 'fag'.  And I'm not gay."



"Neither am I, Jon.  And I won't think any less of you because
your body has reacted perfectly naturally.  And of course I
won't tell any of the other guys what I've seen".



I smiled encouragingly as I said this last bit, so he knew I
wouldn't rat on him.



We went off to the hut, and I went in, took off my boots, and
stretched out on the floor.  He came in, started to put the
shackle around my ankle, then looked about at the water bucket,
the piss bucket, and the sack of slave mash on the side.  



"Have you got to lie here until Monday morning?" he asked.



"Sure.  But it's not a problem.  The chain is long enough for me
to be able to get up and go to the door and squat down in the
sun if I want, or I can just lie here and relax.  This is
paradise compared to the road gang!"



___________________



I wasn't expecting anyone to come in on the Sunday, but the door
opened at around eight and Jeff came in.  He unlocked me, and
made no comment about the huge hard I had (most guys do, don't
they, when they first wake up?).  I really didn't notice my own
nakedness first think in the morning, and did what a lot of guys
do in the privacy of their bathroom - scratched my ass, shook my
balls a bit just to get that comforting feeling that they're
still there, scratched my pits, and ran my fingers through the
stubble of my hair.  I threw back my shoulders, raised my arms
above my head and stretched luxuriously to get more awake - of
course this threw my pelvis forwards, and the tip of my still
erect prick nudged Jeff who was standing too close.



I don't know who was more embarrassed.  Jeff backed away, and my
stretch (and my prick) sort of collapsed.  We both gave a little
nervous laugh. 



None of the other guys were working that day, of course, but
Jeff told me to concrete a huge yard: they were so behind, he
had decided to risk breaking the "no working on Sunday" rule and
come in to get me started.  I had to barrow in the sand and
cement, mix the concrete by hand as I was not allowed to use
machinery, and lay it down in the yard having first barrowed in
a whole lot of crushed rock to make a foundation.  Looking
apologetic, Jeff padlocked a metal collar around my neck which
had a ten metre long stainless steel cable made of  multiple
strands attached to it.  The other end of this cable was
attached to the concrete block in my hut, and Jeff explained
that he was required to keep me securely tethered when there
were no other workers around.  They used  a stainless steel
cable like this because it had been found that slaves could use
pickaxes to actually break open the links of chains - but, said
Jeff, there was nothing sharp enough to cut the cable in reach
on the site, so I shouldn't bother to waste my strength trying!



I think working all alone that day, with only slave mash to eat,
tethered by that long cable so I could move around the site, was
the ultimate humiliation.  It's one thing to be made to work
naked, but another when you get treated like a dog:  tethered to
the site, I had just enough freedom to be able to work, but not
enough to be able to leave.  That's exactly how owners of big
guard dogs treat their animals - tether them securely, by a long
cable, so they can do their job of guarding the house, but can't
escape.  I just couldn't help drawing these comparisons with
animals.



Jeff had told me he wasn't coming back to lock me up on Sunday
night as I was secure enough tethered by my collar, so when I
had finished work I went around the back of the cabin, where
there was long grass, and lay in it, and rolled around - this
was real pleasure, and it was good to feel the cool grass on my
body as the sun also warmed it.  I rolled onto my back, and
started to jerk off - I hadn't done so all week, in spite of my
huge morning erections, as there was nowhere to loose my cum. 
After a day's abstinence, it only took a few strokes of my cock
before a jet of cum spurted out from me (I've always spurted it
out hard and fast, and I'm not a dribbler, as some guys are). 
What a relief - I really felt good.  



I lay there a bit longer, and after about twenty minutes decided
to jerk off again - without my cock bar, I could run my hands up
and down my cock as much as I wanted, and as I had shot my first
load so soon before, I could enjoy a really long, slow jerking
session.  I rolled slightly on to my side as I felt my balls
tightening and the next round of cum starting to shoot, so that
it didn't go all over me.



It felt so good, I knew I had to work something out for the
normal week days.  I didn't want the whole cabin reeking of cum
when Jeff came in, so what could I do?  I supposed I would just
keep on slurping my own cum up from the palm of my hand. Most
guys in confinement, or who don't have any toilet tissue nearby,
get rid of it this way after all.  I guess that in my previous
life I had been having women for so long that I had forgotten
all the niceties of jerking off, and when I was a teenager I had
always been too terrified that my mom might see cum stains on my
sheets that I only ever did it outdoors, or lying on the
bathroom floor with a lot of toilet tissue around!.  



____________________





The second week was exactly like the first, and on Friday night
Jeff again brought the collar and long steel cable to tether me
up for the weekend.  He gave me a project to last the whole
weekend, but told me that no one else was coming in at all, not
even Jon, and that I would be totally alone.



As I woke up on Saturday morning, I thought about going outside
again for an outdoor jerk-off, but just as I was getting to my
feet I heard a truck draw up and the door of the cabin opened. 
I was still erect, and whilst I had gotten used to Jeff seeing
me like this, I was a bit embarrassed when Seb came in.  



Seb was about the same age as me, but not so strong and
muscular.  He had one of those compact, "swimmers" bodies, with
a lot of muscle that doesn't show much.  Most of his upper body
was covered in wiry black hair, that was a thick forest on his
chest, and I guessed his legs must be the same as a trail of
black hair went down over his belly to disappear into the top of
his jeans - I had not seen him in cut-offs at all.  I thought he
must be a bit ashamed of his body for some reason - although he
had absolutely nothing to be worried about on that score - as
even when all the other guys had stripped off their T-shirts,
Seb still had his on and had to be joshed to be made to uncover
like all the other guys on the site.  



Listening to the other guys talk during the week, I had heard
that he was a local boy who at 17  married the daughter of a
manager from the East who had recently arrived to run a new
local factory.  Her parents were horrified that she was throwing
herself away on a "piece of local trash", and were even more
shocked when she had had three children by the time she was 20. 
Seb had of course quit high school to work to support them, but
things had not gone well and when her parents moved to
California when the manager was promoted, she had upped and gone
with them, taking the kids with her.  Seb couldn't even afford
to go and visit them, so had lost touch with his kids.  He had
moved back home to live with his mom and pop, so that he could
save every penny he earned - he had some sort of idea of moving
to California, although I doubted that he ever would, as what
would an uneducated country boy with an Arkansas accent do
there?  His wife certainly wouldn't take him back as she had
divorced him and was now, he had said, married to an executive
working in IT.  And she had told him that she would employ all
the lawyers necessary to stop him seeing the kids.



Whilst all the guys were to some extent nice to me by now, Seb
was the kindest, and his mom had been sending me food almost
every day.  I guessed it was because we were about the same age,
both had kids we no longer saw, and both had had a lot of woman
trouble.



Looking down at my erection, he said "Hey, Steve, were you
expecting me, or what?", with a big grin on his face.



"Hi, Seb.  What are you doing here?  Forgotten it's Saturday?"



"No.  I heard you say how dull it is here at the weekend, so
I've come to help you out."



And with that, he asked me what I was to do that Saturday and
Sunday, and we went out and started work.  It was concreting
yards again, and although he did not have the power and strength
that I did, having an extra pair of hands sure was useful.  By
mid morning we were making good progress, and I was sweating
like a pig.  So was Seb, and his T-shirt was sticking to his
chest, but without the other guys to spur him on, he simply left
it on.



We sat side by side at lunch time with our backs to the cabin
wall, and he gave me fried chicken his mom had made - it was
fabulous.  It was so hot against that wall that he did reach
down and pull the T-shirt over his head, and we continued to sit
there. 



 "You know you could take those jeans off as well if you want
to.  I'm too hot, and I'm naked. I've seen guys in boxers
before, and you won't embarrass me!", I said. 



But Seb did not, and instead abruptly got to his feet and said
"back to work".



Sunday morning he was there again, and we had finished the
project by eleven.  We were sitting having an early lunch, and
it was so hot again that Seb had taken his T-shirt off like
yesterday.  Suddenly he said  "Steve, can I trust you?"



"What do you mean?  'Trust me'? How?"



"If I took that collar off you, would you give me your solemn
word not to try to run away, and allow me to collar you again
tonight?"



"Well, I suppose so.  But Jeff says I must be tethered all the
time at weekends.  Won't you or he get  into trouble with the
law?   But if you're wondering if I'll make a run for it, the
answer's no:  you don't see too many totally naked guys on the
roads, even here in Arkansas!".



"Well Jeff won't know.  And I won't tell, and I'm prepared to
take the risk.  I 'borrowed' the key to this collar from his
desk on Friday night ."  And with that, he leaned up and
unlocked my collar.  As we were sitting side by side, he
couldn't  help but rub his chest against mine as he did this,
and I felt my nipples stiffen involuntarily, in the way all
guys' nipples sometimes do, as his wiry chest brushed lightly
over them.



"OK, come on then, into my truck", said Seb, and set off across
the site.  The truck had been sitting in the sun, and as I got
into the passenger seat the naugahyde was burningly hot against
my naked back and ass - I'd forgotten about things like that and
shouted, and squirmed.  Seb threw me a towel to put over the
seat, and we set off.



He had one of those "conversions" - a normal truck, but with big
high wheels raising it high off the ground.  Anyone looking in
to the passenger windows would just see a couple of guys with
bare chests - it wouldn't occur to them that one of us was
totally naked! I wondered to myself how many nude drivers I had
passed on the highway back in "real life".



We set off down the highway, and through the local town - I
looked in interest, as I hadn't really seen anything like this
for some time, but then we left the town behind and were soon
bumping along dirt roads until Seb parked the truck. We got out
and went through a small belt of trees, and I saw that we were
on the banks of a small lake.  



"This here lake is a proper swimming hole", said Seb, "not like
that little artificial thing back on the site"



"Swim?" He asked, and I didn't even bother to say "yes" but
simply ran into the wonderful cool water.  I'm a strong swimmer,
and was about 20 yards out in no time. I trod water and turned
around to see Seb with his back to me drop his jeans, slip his
boxers to the ground, then cover up his astonishingly white ass
and thighs with a pair of long-legged swimming shorts.  I was of
course a dark even tan all over, and at sports clubs in big
cities you often see guys who never go into the sun an so are
white all over.  But when you get labourers who are burned a
dark colour on the tops of the bodies, and on their legs, they
do look a bit strange when they're naked - rather like one of
those cookies with a layer of creamy white stuff in between two
chocolate biscuits.  



He finished wriggling his ass into the shorts, then turned and
ran into the lake too, and swam out to join me.  It's funny,
isn't it - even when there are only two guys together, there's
some sort of modestly that makes a guy turn his ass towards the
other when changing?  You very rarely see a guy strip off with
his cock towards the others in a changing room.



Even before I was condemned to live totally naked, I always
thought that there was one thing I would always do that way if I
had the choice - swimming!  I really like the way that the water
flows over our cock and balls, and along your ass, when you're
naked.  



"You're a good swimmer", I told Seb because he had swum out to
where I was in no time.



"Yes, until I left school I was always in the swimming team. 
That's how I met my wife - she wanted to be seen with one of the
school's top athletes."



"Come on, Seb - take those shorts off!  We're both guys here,
and if you've never swum naked before, you don't know what
you're missing! ", I said jocularly to him.  But he didn't do or
say anything.



I started to swim to a small island in the lake, but Seb really
was good - I'm a good swimmer, and of course I have a lot of
power and strength in my arms and legs.  But after a couple of
strokes Seb overtook me and was waiting on the island when I
arrived.  We sat in the warm shallow water at the edge of the
island, and splashed idly up and down with our feet, in the way
you do on a hot afternoon.  But a couple of guys who're still
quite young, in spite of having had hard lives, like to fool
around, and soon we were splashing each other vigorously and
laughing a lot.



The splashing soon turned into a sort of fun wrestling match in
the shallow water, and I easily overpowered Seb.  "I win!", I
told him through our mutual laughs, "And I claim the prize of a
pair of black swimming shorts", and as I said this I reached
down and tried to pull his shorts off.  He reacted by kicking
out at me, and that only made me more determined to succeed.  In
an instant our happy game had turned into a real struggle - one
which I was of course bound to win given my bigger size and
power - and I pulled the shorts down over his slight but
muscular ass and along his kicking legs.



He was furious, and when we had stopped struggling demanded his
shorts back.  But I was pretty pissed off by now, and said "Race
you for them"  and ran into the water and started to swim to the
shore, holding his shorts in one hand.



He easily overtook me, and we struggled and wrestled in the
water half way to shore - I had to push his head under a couple
of times and hold it there, before I could et away and the chase
could resume. 



We repeated the struggle a couple more times on the way back,
and ended up wrestling again in the shallow water on the edge of
the lake.  Even when you're not sexually attracted to another
guy, there is something erotic about having the warm, wet body
of another good looking stud intertwined with yours as you
wrestle - especially when you're both nude and you both suddenly
realise you've both got erections.



We disengaged, and Seb was red with embarrassment and demanded
his shorts back.  I could see I'd gone too far, and of course
surrendered them to him, and he turned his back on me as he
pulled them on.



The afternoon which up tot hen had been a lot of fun was spoiled
- we had gone from two guys laughing and frolicking one minute,
to being two guys who were not speaking to each other the next.



"Back in the van!", Seb commanded, and we drove back to the site
in total silence.



When we got there, I expected Seb to put my collar back on and
leave me tethered.  But instead, still in his swimming shorts,
he went onto my shack, went over to the leg chains and told me
to come over there to be chained up.  I did as I was told, but
instead of fastening the cuffs around my ankles as usual, Seb
put them around my wrists.  Then he took up all the slack
between them, and all the loose chain I normally had, before
padlocking them to the concrete block.              



He spread my blankets over the dirt floor and pushed them under
my body - I was lying full length now, on my stomach,  with my
wrists slightly in the air and almost immobile.



"You couldn't leave well alone, could you, Steve?"



"What do you mean, Seb?  We were only having a bit of harmless
fun.  You were a swimmer, in the school team - a whole lot of
guys must have seen your cock when you're changing.  And you've
seen mine every day.  So what was the harm is a bit of horse
play like that."



"Steve, you don't know how hard it has been for me since you
arrived.  I've always been attracted to men, but I've always
curbed myself and denied it.  I got married as I thought that
fucking a woman regularly and having kids would make e normal. 
Then you come along, the best looking guy I have ever seen.  I
get a hard on every time I catch sight of you, and I have been
able to admire every inch of that fantastic body of yours.  But
if that wasn't enough, since we've been talking at breaks I know
you're a really great guy and exactly the man of my fantasies -
a huge nude stud, with a wicked smile, and a terrific
personality."



"I've tried to fight it, and today I really was just being nice
and taking you out of here for the day.  I sort of thought we'd
have a two-guys-together sort of day, just shooting the breeze
and so on.  Then you started to wrestle me, and strip my shorts
off.  It was too much.  I've held back too long.  I'm going to
give myself the pleasure I have denied myself for years."



"Do you feel the same way about me, Steve?  Have you ever really
wanted a guy?"



"No, you faggot!", I snapped back.



He looked really shocked by this, as I think he thought there
was some hope that I would want, him, too.   He pushed his
shorts to the floor, then threw his body on top of mine.  I felt
his wiry chest pushing into my back, and his erect cock
thrusting into my ass crack.  I started to twist and buck my
body up and down, to try to throw him off. I screamed
obscenities at him, as we struggled. Reaching down underneath
me, he grabbed hold of my balls, and started to squeeze them
until I cried out in pain.



"Lie still, if you don't want to get hurt!", he commanded.  And
as he continued to squeeze my balls, I realised I could do
nothing else but comply.



"Now, up onto your knees, and press your shoulders into the
floor!"



Again, I had to comply, and I knew my ass was now exposed to
him.  Then I felt something warm pushing into my anus.  I tried
to resist, but he pushed harder, and I started to experience an
exquisite sort of pain as his cock head started to enter me. I
was gasping and moaning, but there was nothing I could do.  He
continued to push, and now I was shouting out as his cock went
deeper and deeper into me.



He started to rock backwards and forwards, and I was moaning in
time to his thrusts as he slid in and out.  It seemed to go on
for ever, but then, with a sort of shudder, he collapsed down
onto my back, and sensing it was all over, I too let my knees
slide backwards, and lay there on my stomach, panting.



After the agony of his penetration and fucking of me, It
actually felt kind of good to have his body on top of me, and
the warmth of his cock inside me.  He was making little moanings
of pleasure, too, and we simply lay there for some time before
he slowly withdrew from me.



He rolled off me, and I turned over to lie on my back.  He then
moved so he was half lying on top of me, with his arm thrown
across my chest.  I could see that tears were running down his
cheeks.



"Steve, I'm sorry", he said.  "I've wanted to feel another man's
body for so long, that I just snapped.  I've read about fucking
another guy so many times on the Internet that I know I must
have hurt you.  You had a virgin ass, didn't you, and I didn't
try to stretch you first.  And I humped you completely dry, with
no lube.  Are you OK?"



"Yes", I replied angrily.  "I thought you were going to be a
real friend.  But you just used me like I hear guys on this
Programme are used all the time - casually fucked, without any
choice in the matter.  Christ, Seb, I'm really hurting: my ass
feels as if it's raw.  It's not just the physical pain, it's the
humiliation at being used simply for your pleasure."



He looked into my eyes, and said "Well I know it's no use being
sorry, but I truly am.  I really want a fuck buddy for a bit of
fun at night, but in this town there's no chance.  When I saw
you, especially with your fantastic body, I thought I could have
you without any problems.  But it was wrong of me to rape you
like that.", and he sort of sobbed, his head going down onto my
chest in despair.



There was nothing I could do, with my arms chained tightly, and
nothing more I could say.  I simply lay there, until he picked
himself up a bit.  Then, to my utter amazement, he kissed me,
full on the lips.



Of course I had kissed a lot of women in my time, but I had
never had another guy do this to me.  I thought I was going to
be revolted, but it actually felt good, and as he continued to
press his lips against mine and probe with his tongue, I found
myself responding and soon our tongues were in each others
mouths and we were sucking eagerly on each other.  



He reached down and started to jack my cock, whilst continuing
to kiss me, and the combination of our frenzied tongues, the
heat of our naked bodies pressed against each other, and his
hand stroking my cock soon caused me to cum, fountaining great
spurts of jism all over us.   



We were both covered in sweat now, and we lay there panting. 
Seb ran his fingers through some of my cum that was all over us,
then slipped down my body to kneel between my legs.  Gently
lifting my legs up on to his shoulders, he leaned forward and
used my own cum to lube my asshole, and then, not like before
when it was a brutal, dry, rape, he slowly and gently inserted
himself into me again, and fucked me for what seemed like hours,
all the time looking down at me.



When he had cum again, he lay there on my chest and I wrapped my
legs around his waist.  



"Steve, what are we going to do now?", he whispered.



"Do?  What do you mean. Do you want to fuck me again, you stud?"



"No, Steve.  I mean tomorrow. What are we going to say to the
other guys on the site?  What will you say if Mike or Jon ask
you how you got on this weekend?  I don't want them to know that
I've fucked you.  You just can't do things like that in this
town, even to a criminal like you.  I couldn't ever go into a
bar, or a restaurant, again if they thought I liked fucking men."



"Look, Seb, I guess the best thing is to say nothing.  You don't
want to, and I don't want you to.  If the other guys here know I
can be fucked whenever they want (and I couldn't easily stop
them, whilst I'm on this Programme), they'll be up my ass most
of the time.  I've seen them looking at me, and I don't think
most of them are as straight as you think they are, even though
they've got wives and kids. I think most of the men in the world
would like to go up another guy's ass if they had the chance,
and could do it without any fear of consequences.  So the best
thing for both of us would be to say nothing."



Seb then got up, and to my surprise unlocked the cuffs around my
wrists and stood there looking down at me.  I rubbed my wrists
to put a bit of circulation back in to them, but just lay there.
 I was in an inner turmoil.  I had always been straight.  I had
always jeered at guys who had fancied other men.  But I'd just
been fucked - once brutally, but once sensually and slowly, with
tenderness and love, and I had actually enjoyed it.





I sat up, and put my arms around Seb's thighs as he stood there,
reached my head up and gently kissed his cock. I was amazed that
I could do this - I'd hardly ever touched another guy's cock
before, let alone put my lips to it, but it somehow felt right. 
I was surprised how warm and soft it was against my lips,  "Come
on", I said, get down here again by the side of me.  There's a
lot of the night left."



When Jeff came along the next morning, he was a bit surprised to
see me lying there completely unchained, and I think he could
smell the reek of sex in the air.  I had to endure a lot of
ribbing from the other guys during the day, too, as they saw the
scratches on my back and the teeth marks on my shoulders left
from our subsequent passionate encounters.





__________________





For the rest of my time at the site Seb came each weekend, and I
was his sex toy.  He would kiss me, play with my nipples, and 
jack me off, and of course he fucked me over and over again. But
I was never allowed to put my cock up his ass, even though I
could rub it up and down his ass crack as we rolled around
together enjoying the heat of each other's bodies.



I had been "bought" by Jeff for only a few months, and my
"contract" was coming to an end.  But so was the work on the
site, and both Seb and I knew our time was almost up.  



I had talked to him about what I had heard of the sex parlours
and pain palaces, and he had only vaguely heard rumours of those
places himself - they were expensive, and he was only a labourer
who was trying to save, after all. I guess they were mostly used
by the fancy middle class bankers and lawyers in a place like
Arkansas.  One weekend as we lay in each other's arms and I was
again wondering if I would be bought by one of those places next
time, he went very silent.  I thought something was up, so I
kept pressing him to tell me what was wrong.  But it turned out
that he had been that week to one of each, as an experiment. 



He thought he would burn some of his savings on seeing what
those places were really like.   He wouldn't tell me much - I
don't really know whether he was embarrassed by them, or whether
he was trying to spare me worries. He had really enjoyed fucking
the guys in the sex parlour, and he had taken four guys on the
one night - two singly, and two together to make a threesome: 
it had never occurred to me that if I was going to be a slave in
such a place I would have to take part in that type of
perversion.  He had been astonished at how much sexual
excitement he had felt as he had whipped a hunk in the pain
palace, but he wouldn't tell me what else he had done during his
night there.  Now he was worried about me, and my future, but we
both knew that there was nothing either of us could do.



Two weeks later Jeff told me to get into his truck, and he drove
me back to the auction house.



END OF THIS PART.



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