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Piet watched with growing concern as the corporal searched the contents of his pouches and felt a shiver of fear when, at last, he pulled out the maps and documents. Without giving them more that a cursory glance, he tossed them onto the table and looked up at Piet. "I don't read Afrikaans but that doesn't matter, they're bogus anyway, aren't they?" Piet said nothing. "You're a scout aren't you?" the corporal snapped. Not trusting himself to speak, Piet shook his head. "Oh come on lad, we are scouts too, we know your're one of DeWet's boys." Piet still said and the corporal continued, "We were passing this farmstead early yesterday evening and the cattle were making a hell of a racket. Gray, here, a country boy, said there was something very wrong and we came to investigate. We found the farmer shot dead on the kitchen floor and the upstairs rooms had been ransacked. While Gray saw to the animals, we buried the old boy in the backyard." He paused and his shrewd dark blue eyes studied Piet's face, before he continued again in his deep voice, "Why did the farmer die, we wondered? Was it plain robbery or was there some double-dealing?" Again the dark eyes bored into Piet's.
We know you scouts use remote farms as places for gathering information along with your victuals."
The corporal's voice held a hint of mence as he said, "It would be wise for you to tell us what inform-
ation you are taking to Middleburg and what you know about this little imbroglio. If not lad, I'm afraid it will go badly for you." Piet was sweating and he could feel his heart pounding. He wet his lips and said, "Fuck you, khaki scum." It was meant to sound tough and defiant, but it came out as little more than a croak. "That's what I expected you to say though not in those precise words," the corporal said as he stroked his stubbled chin and eyed the rough wooden posts that supported the kitchen's massive central rafter. "Will one of those be strong enough for our purposes, Gray?" The big soldier frowned in puzzlement for a moment, then his brow cleared and he strode over and pushed and yanked one of the supports. Piet watched the trooper's rippling muscles and bulging biceps, trying not to think about the damage they could do. "Rock solid corporal," Gray said, grinning broadly. The corporal stood up and Piet saw they were the same height and build. "I don't want to do this lad, why not cooperate." Piet spat in his face.
Calmly the corporal wiped away the saliva running down his cheeks and dripping from his moustache, with the back of his hand, but when his gaze met Piet's, the dark blue eyes were blazing.
He brought his knee up hard into Piet's balls. Piet yelled and, as the pain lanced up into his guts, dropped top his knees. "Well he's asked for it lads, let's rig im," the corporal snarled. Piet was hauled up and pushed back against one of the posts. Gray slung a length of rope around his neck and tugged his head back against the rough wood. "Keep still, or I'll choke you Dutchman," Gray hissed in his ear as the corporal stepped forward and began to bind Piet to the post. The rope was passed around the back of Piet's neck, under his armpits and knotted between his shoulder-blades. Brought back over his shoulders, the rope was then knotted over his breastbone. It was pulled down between his pecs, where it was knotted yet again and the ends tugged back and tied tightly behind him. The corporal stood back to admire his work. The rough rope divided Piet's pecs and bit up under them, emphasising and lifting the big firm muscles. Satisfied, he then roped Piet's upper body firmly to the post and said, "All right Gray, you can let go now, he's rigged." The rope was removed from his throat and Piet tugged and twisted his bonds. Although he would be able to move up and down, he could not bend forward as his torso was held rigidly against the post.
Chapter 4
The corporal pulled the khaki shirt out of his breeches, shrugged it off, and strutted over to hung it neatly over the back of a kitchen chair. Then he turned and, fists on hips, surveyed the half-naked prisoner. He saw the the boer had the broad shoulders and hard muscles of a man who works out of doors. The roped pectoral muscles were magnificent and almost hairless though hair spread thickly over the hard-ridged belly and disappeared invitingly under the wide buckled belt. Lowering his eyes further, the corporal noted the huge bulge between the man's widespread legs and felt himself hardening as he strode towards him. Looking the scout in the face, he thrust his hand between the spread thighs and brought it up to cradle Piet's balls. He saw Piet's lips part in surprise and colour flood his stubbled cheeks as he gently rubbed the thick shaft with his thumb. Piet made no sound but groaned inwardly at he felt his cock responding to the soldier's touch. He heard the corporal say, his voice little more than a whisper, "Still want to play this the hard way, lad?" Not trusting himself to speak, Piet glared defiantly at the soldier. The men's eyes locked and the corporal's fingers grasped the glans of Piet's fully erect cock and rubbed and kneaded it through the rough material of his trousers, which quickly became damp and sticky. "Another place, another time, eh lad?" The corporal said huskily and, still holding Piet's gaze brought up his hand and licked the salty lube from his fingers. Piet still made no reply but the corporal could see the excitement in the boer's eyes as he placed his hands on the hard roped pecs and flicked the jutting nipples roughly with his thumbs. Then he gripped them and began to twist and maul them savagely. Piet moaned and twisted in his restraints as the corporal's rough, jagged thumb-nails sawed his tortured paps.
Gray watched as the corporal tortured the husky boer. He had always admired the tough taciturn corporal and relished the brief, rare glimpse he had of his hard muscular body and impressive endowment. Now the big cock tented the front of the corporal's breeches and thrust against the boer's jutting manhood. Gray saw the corporal give the nipples a last vicious twist before releasing them and stepping back a pace. He could see that both men were sweating and breathing heavily and watched with growing excitement as the corporal unbuckled the boer's belt and yanked it free. He grasped it by the buckle and wrapped it once around his fist before stepping back a further pace or two. For a long moment the two men held each other's gaze, before the corporal swung back his arm and brought the wide belt down hard across Piet's sore mangled nipples.
Piet moaned and his head dropped back against the post, his teeth bared in a grimace of pain. The belt lashed his pecs hard and relentlessly and the pain in his nipples increased until it felt as if they were
being pierced by red-hot needles, each time the belt struck them. His chest turned pink, then fiery red
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