To Be a Farmer or Soldier's Boy

by ChrisCross

Copyright© 2017 by ChrisCross

Erotica Sex Story: Fourteen-year-old farmer's apprentice Derek and his master, Abel, dance around mutual want in eighteenth-century Saxony until, losing control, Abel follows Derek into a field and takes the boy's virginity. While walking to another field to think on his plight, Derek is set on by three men going to recruit as mercenary soldiers in the American Revolution, who debauch him and take him with them to be a soldiers' boy.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/mt   Coercion   Consensual   NonConsensual   Rape   Reluctant   Gay   Fiction   Farming   Historical   Military   DomSub   MaleDom   Rough   Gang Bang   Anal Sex   First   Prostitution   .

Fourteen-year-old farmer’s apprentice Derek looked up from where he was sitting on a bench outside the door of the potting shed on Abel Heinmann’s farm outside Lüneburg in the German State of Saxony. He had been working on repairing a harness but his attention had been elsewhere--to where Abel was. Abel was standing by the door to the barn, staring at him. Abel stared a lot at Derek these days. Derek turned his gaze toward the house, where Abel’s young wife, Rozel, was in the yard scattering feed to a flock of chickens. Derek shook his head imperceptibly in Abel’s direction, but Abel continued to stare at him. The hand of the tall, beefy farmer in his early thirties, went to his crotch. Derek looked down at the harness he was working on and blushed.

The farmer cleared his throat, demanding that Derek look at him and where his hand was lingering, and when the boy did look at him, it was for Abel to see Derek nodding in resignation and surrender.

Over the recent weeks, the farmer had been increasingly open in making his desires and intentions known, and in the German apprentice system, a master’s desires were not to be denied. It didn’t help that Derek had desires for men himself, although they had never, in his fourteen years, been acted upon. With a sigh, he stood and moved into the potting shed. His intent was to break off the contact--denying the temptation, frustration, and impropriety to giving in to what his master farmer wanted.

Derek had long known that he appealed to a certain persuasion of man. He was small of stature and delicate of features, even though he was as strong and well built as any fourteen-year-old manual worker. His eyes were a pale blue and his hair fell in curly blond waves down to his shoulders. He received many a second look, stare, and wetting of lips by men just as he had been receiving from the farmer, Heinmann, ever since he came on as an apprentice at the farm, destined to train to be a farmer as well. Working of the land was a much-needed profession in Saxony, which was only now coming out of famine conditions caused by several years of drought and bad weather.

It was only recently, though, that Derek had been having feelings for the men too--not just a curiosity but, increasingly, a burning need. Abel Heinmann was a magnificent specimen of man--tall, robust, muscular. Ever since Derek had seen the farmer at the water trough, bathing himself off, and revealing not just his muscular torso but also what hung heavy between his legs, Derek had melted to him. Abel had noticed the change in Derek and, having a preference for boys of Derek’s age, was pursuing him.

It was only a matter of time. Both the man and the boy instinctively knew that.

There was work for Derek to do in the shed as well, and he set about tending to the seedlings in the pots on a shelf against the wall. He felt the slight elevation of warmth and the increase in light as the shed door was opened--and then shut--behind him. He also heard the bolt on the inside of the door being shot home. He barely had time to check the racing of his breath before Abel was close behind him, enveloping the boy’s small body in his embrace and burying his face in the hollow of Derek’s neck, sniffing in the clean smell of the young man and kissing him there.

Derek turned his face to Abel’s and they kissed. They had gone this far previously already. Both were burning with need and want and knew the desires of the other. They hadn’t need to voice it; they both understood the animal heat for each other that existed.

One of Abel’s rough hands pushed its way below the rope-belted waistband of Derek’s breeches and cupped Derek’s balls and genitals. The two had not gone this far as yet and Derek pulled his mouth away from Abel’s and hissed, “No, Master. We mustn’t. You are married and I am too young.”

“It’s the young of you I want to capture and conquer,” Abel growled. “The clean smell and taste of you. The innocence and beauty of you. I would have you first. I would have you as a boy.”

“You would steal that from me so soon?”

“Aye, I would. And you will be all the better for it. You must realize you have a preference for men. You cannot hide that. And you must also know that you are too appealing to men to keep your innocence any longer. I would have it before another man can lay hands on you first. It is why I took you as an apprentice. I lay boys and I intend to lay you. I wait no longer. I will have it.”

Derek struggled, but Abel held on, gripping Derek’s balls and cock in his hand and licking and kissing him on the ear and in the hollow of his neck.

“Do not fight me, lad. You want it. I want it. It’s not unnatural when it’s what we both want and need. You want a man and I want a boy.”

The boy gave up the struggle and nestled there in the man’s embrace, moaning, as Abel worked his cock.

“See, you want it. You harden to my touch fast enough.”

“We cannot. Not here. It’s too dangerous.” Abel had relaxed his grip a bit when Derek had stopped fighting him, and now, with a deft move, Derek was able to slip out of the man’s grip. Moving swiftly he went for the potting shed door and had the door open and was standing in the light.

“You’ll want to stay here and not follow me,” he turned and said. “Rozel must not see that we have been in the shed together. You must know that. I think she has her suspicions.”

That stopped Abel, who had moved to catch up with and seize Derek again, and he stood still as Derek exited the shed. The boy took a look at the harness, still needing repair, but then looked away, first at Rozel at the house, and then out into the fields of the farm, the wheat stalks standing high and waving in the slight wind. He turned in that direction and walked into the field.

As he walked, he sensed that he was being followed. Sure enough, when he turned to look, he saw that Abel was walking behind him. Derek strode from one wheat field to the next, moving beyond the sight of the farmhouse. His pace quickened. So did Abel’s. Derek was nearly running. Moving on longer legs, though, Abel trotted faster. In the middle of the field, the older, larger man, launched himself into the air, coming down onto Derek’s back and taking both men to the ground. They lay there, panting, in a hollow in the field, with wheat stalks rising up all around them and waving in the air.

It was just the two of them, under the blue-gray sky, hidden from the view of the rest of the world.

“This is the time, boy. Don’t fight it. We both know this is the time,” the farmer growled.

With a grunt, Abel rolled Derek onto his back and then rolled half way on top of him, pinning the boy to the soft ground. He captured the boy’s mouth with his and went into a brutal, insistent kiss that melted into mutual passion and Derek gave in to him. Abel had one arm under Derek’s neck, holding the boy there with that and with his chest pressing on Derek’s chest. His other hand went to undoing Derek’s rope belt, unbuttoning his trousers, freeing the boy’s cock, and stroking it. Derek moaned and sighed for him, giving in to him, surrendering. Abel pushed Derek’s breeches down his leg, and in recognition of what was to be, Derek kicked them off his ankles, leaving him naked below the waist.

The deep kissing continued as Abel took one of Derek’s hands and moved it to the boy’s cock, with Derek dutifully taking over the stroking of his own staff. Abel’s hand then went to undoing and flaring his own trousers and working his own cock hard.

When Abel moved fully over Derek’s body, Derek docilely spread and bent his legs. He pushed his pelvis up with the leverage of his feet. He instinctively knew what to do to receive a man’s cock at the best angle, and he instinctively knew--and accepted--that that would happen here, now--with Abel. Still, he shuddered, pulled away from the kiss and arched his back and his head up, and cried out in pain and surprise as Abel entered him--and pushed in deeper and deeper yet.

Derek writhed under the larger, more powerful man as Abel’s thick, hard, long cock stretched open his passage as it advanced up inside him. But Abel held him fast, cooed to him that it soon would be better--would bring them both pleasure.

“This is what you want. Tell me this is what you want.”

“Yes, yes. Hurry, but be good to me,” Derek sobbed.

And then, because it was what Derek wanted and because the cock was deep inside him and he was undone one way or the other, the boy settled down and relaxed, allowing Abel to possess him ever deeper. Derek’s passage walls stretched to accommodate the staff and Abel began to pump. He stroked slowly at first, kissing the boy and telling him how sweet and tight he was. Derek whimpered and moaned. He groaned and grunted as the pace of the fuck increased. Eventually, they both were in a frenzy, crying out in passion to each other, Abel banging the boy hard and Derek banging him back. Derek dug his nails into the big farmer’s biceps, arched his head back, and screamed his release to the sky.

Abel fucked on, eventually ejaculating deep inside Derek’s passage, with Derek just lying there, spent and collapsed, quietly sobbing, but clutching Abel’s buttocks, holding the big man inside him. Hovering over Derek when he was done, propped up on his fists on arms encasing Derek from each side, Abel looked down into Derek’s face with worshipful eyes.

“I am sorry, but I could not hold it any longer. You are too enticing, too sweet.”

“I am undone,” Derek whispered.

“Aye, lad, you are undone now. I had the first pleasure of you and I know you had pleasure from me. You need not pretend otherwise. No more need for teasing or uncertainty. I have had your boy maidenhead, and I thank you for that. And you can thank me for taking it. You are free of the burden of it now. We both know you were wanting a man’s cock. We are free to sport now, and I can tell from your nature that you will want to sport often.”

“We cannot be free,” Derek murmured. “There still is Rozel.”

“Worry not about Rozel,” Abel said. He brought his face down to take possession of Derek’s lips again, but the boy turned his head to the side and Abel’s lips went to the hollow of Derek’s neck.

“I feel the guilt of it,” Derek murmured.

“You are not glad of being free of the burden of not knowing a man’s cock?”

Derek said nothing. He couldn’t disagree, but there was too much pain, regret, and guilt to admit it just now.

“There is the two of us now. You and me. And there is this. Feel me going alive inside you again? Will you deny me another fucking? We can freely sport now.”

Derek did feel the man’s cock go hard inside him again, and he didn’t attempt to deny his master his pleasure. And this time, when Abel began to plow him, Derek went fully with the fuck, the two men embracing closely, and Derek moving his pelvis with the thrusts of the beefy farmer, moving with the cock, taking it deep, sighing and moaning, rocking with the body working with him. They moved in waves, both concentrating on the motion of the possessing staff inside Derek’s channel, the cock caressing the walls of Derek’s passage as it stroked, and the muscles of Derek’s passage undulating over the hard, demanding shaft. The cock was king, with both the man and the boy serving its needs and thereby satisfying their own needs and desires. It no longer was if Derek was going to be fucked, but how much pleasure the two could pull out of Derek being fucked. And this time the two came almost simultaneously.

“There that was better,” Abel whispered in Derek’s ear. “That was good. You are a natural bottom boy. We will make much pleasurable sport together. It is done now.”

Derek said nothing. He just lay there and watched as Abel stood up from him, readjusted his trousers, and turned and walked back to the barnyard.

After several minutes, Derek also got up, with a groan. The man had been heavy on his body and stretching and filling with his cock. It had not been as Derek had imagined. But it was satisfying enough, and he knew as the soreness lessened and the experience lengthened, it would be what Derek wanted. But maybe with another man, a man who wasn’t his master at work, a man whose wife Derek did not have to continually face. Still, Farmer Heinmann was a handsome, strong-cocked man.

Derek also set out on foot--not for the barnyard, in the wake of the now-distant, cockily strutting Abel--but in the other direction. He told himself he was off to check the farm’s potato field, down the road. But in his mind he thought maybe he was headed further than that--toward the sea, toward Kalkberg. It was too soon to release the feelings of guilt. He knew that Farmer Heinmann’s desire for him was his fault.

“Hey, you, lad. You might go to the side of the road. I’d hate for my horse here to apply his hoof to such a pretty backside.”

“What? Oh,” Derek said, turning to see a wagon with three young men in it, each one side or the other of their twenty-year-mark. All handsome and fit. He moved to the side of the road. “Sorry, I was lost in thought.”

“I could easily be lost in thought with you,” the driver of the wagon said, bringing the wagon up beside Derek, but keeping pace with him now. “What is a sweet thing like you doing on the road without someone to keep him company?”

“I go to my master’s potato field just up the lane here,” Derek said. He kept walking. He was still keyed up, just having come from lying under his master, the farmer Abel Heinmann. It seemed to him that the young man on the bench behind the horse was speaking in teasing sexual terms. It was probably just because of where he’d just come from that made him think that, though. Still the man was quite good looking--reddish-blond hair, muscular build, a good smile, and an easy manner. The two other men, one blond and one dark haired, also handsome and of good builds, sitting in the wagon behind the driver, also seemed companionable.

“You sure you aren’t going to be a soldier? That’s what my friends, Luther and Rolf, and I are off to do--to sign up to serve in the war--to make money and conquests and come home seasoned warriors. I am Werner. We go to Kalkberg to sign up and ship out. You sure you don’t wish to go with us? We would happily sport with you on the way. You look ready and willing for sport.” Kalkberg, just a few kilometers further on from Lüneburg, was the seat of the late eighteenth-century Duchy of Brunswick-Lüneburg, in the Saxony region of north-central Germany.

“War? I have heard of no war Saxony is in at this time,” Derek responded. “And I am too young for war. I am apprenticed to be a farmer.” He avoided the mention of sport. Too often men have taken his looks for license to flirt--and more.

“Being a soldier is much more exciting than being a farmer--and you will be in with other brave and handsome men, living life on the dangerous edge, protecting the people and being shown their appreciation.” Werner was holding the horse to Derek’s pace on foot.

“People must eat to be alive to show their appreciation,” Derek said, with a laugh. “And soldiers must eat too. They need farmers. They need what I do in the fields.”

“I could use a farmer just now myself,” Luther piped up from the back of the wagon. “Let old men farm. You are too young to be wasted on farmer. You look to be a sport, and I would be happy to see what you do in the fields. How would that field over there be? Come, go into the field with my friends and me.”

“I think I could eat a farmer too,” said Rolf. Both men were giving Derek the eye. He could hardly deny what they were speaking of now. He wondered how men so easily could tell what his preferences and desires were. He quickened his pace, but the wagon kept with him.

“How old are you?” Werner asked.

“Fourteen,” Derek answered. “As I said, too young to go to war. But also as I said, I did not know Saxony was at war.”

“Fourteen? Nice. Ripe, hardly used,” Luther said from the back. He popped his tongue in his cheek. Derek didn’t know what that might signify, but he was afraid to ask.

“Fourteen is tender, sweet,” Werner spoke. “You walk like a wanton for man sport. I know you want it. Did not I say when we came upon him that he walked like a wanton, Rolf?”

“Yes, Werner. You said he looked a nice piece and that he walked like a wanton, like he wanted a thick spike up the ass.”

“Saxony is not at war,” Werner said when he saw that Derek wasn’t going to fall in with their line of banter, “But England is. England is fighting to keep its American colonies, and it is willing to pay soldiers from Germany well to fight for them. America is a long way away. Good adventure. By the time you were trained and got there, you would not be too young to fight. And in the meantime you could please many a soldier and give them energy to fight, I would think.”

“What Werner is saying,” Luther piped up from the back, “is that we would like to take you with us and we’d liked to lay with you. You could keep a man’s staff hard with the sweet buttocks of yours. We were speaking of you as we came up on you, betting you’d had a man or two inside you and would be a good cock teaser for a soldier. Every regiment needs a soliders’ boy to keep men’s cocks warm, and a feather in the cap would go to the soldier who provides him.”

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