A Wartime Evacuee
by Andrew Passey
Part 2
My naivety about living in a new and exciting life in the countryside quickly evaporated when faced with the reality. How wrong I was about things being an improvement.
I should have realised things would go badly straight away when I met my distant relative. Mr Arch was his name but I soon thought of him as Mr Arse. He looked at me with no warmth and made it quite clear he was in charge. I was there at his sufferance and any thought I had about a family that loved and looked after me was quickly dispelled. On our journey to my new home he kept quiet. Any questions I asked he ignored and I soon realised that things were going to be tough.
"You're a pasty lazy little shit who hasn't done a hard day's work in your life. Well that's going to change!" He said nastily as he finally deigned to speak to me as we arrived outside his ramshackle cottage. The first impressions were not good. There was junk everywhere and it looked like there were lots of unfinished projects. He had land where plants were grown but a lot of it looked very overgrown and full of weeds. I had wanted to get off on the right foot with him but I wasn't accepting his insinuation that I was lazy.
"I've been going to school, I work hard there!" I protested to him. One thing I did pride myself in was working hard at school and I wanted him to understand that. I loved learning and I knew if I did well I could hopefully get myself into a better life. He clearly thought differently though.
"School? What a complete waste of time. You won't be going to school here. They don't teach anything you need. You'll be working your arse off helping me around the place. Now I'll give you one warning. You will address me as SIR in public AND private. If you show such disrespect again I'll beat it into you. Now give me your ration card."
I hadn't expected to be spoken to like that or threatened so quickly. I fought back tears as I rummaged in my bag and handed it over to him. I was then taken inside to meet his wife. She was a homely looking lady who smiled warmly as she saw me but I also saw fear in her eyes as she saw her husband's expression. She looked like she had been about to give me a hug but he soon stopped her.
"No, don't molly coddle him. Look at him! He's a weakling. A mummy's boy I bet who needs some manners and respect beaten into him." Mr Arse said nastily.
"He's just a boy!" She said which made me feel better. Mr Arse was having none of it though.
"He's a dirty lice ridden tear away who needs to learn some discipline and respect! Ultimately he's just a meal ticket with his Ration book and he's an extra pair of hands. That's all. When he's served his purpose we can pack him off somewhere else. Now we can talk later in private about you disrespecting and disagreeing with me in front of the boy. Show the boy his room and tell him my rules. And then bring me a drink!" He gave us both a filthy look and I could see how afraid Mrs Arch was of her husband. He was clearly a bully and a violent one at that. I began to think if I managed to not be violently beaten to death I'd be doing well.
Mrs Arch showed me my room almost apologetically. It was incredibly basic. There was a paper thin mattress with a blanket on a rickety bed. Not much else and it didn't exactly scream "home". While I was at least relieved to see an inside bathroom and toilet, I was quickly told to use the outhouse to go to the toilet. Mr Arse wouldn't even let me use the bath to clean myself saying I could wash myself from the water that collected in the water butt outside. All in all things were going to be miserable. That first evening was awful. I wasn't allowed to eat dinner with them and was given a bit of bread and butter. Nothing else and I was starving at bedtime. I know things were tough for a lot of people but I had a ration book. That should have meant there was extra food for everyone but I began to suspect I wouldn't be seeing much of it.
I lay on my bed and let my mind wander back to what the boy had said on the train about touching someone else's dick. I closed my eyes, snaked my hand isn't my undershorts and gently wanked my dick thinking of how it would have felt to hold William's. Unfortunately I had to be very careful as the bed squeaked and as I quickly learned from the shouting and screaming sound travelled in the house. I gently brought myself off to an orgasm which was easily the best I'd felt all day. I'd shot a bit of a cum but as I'd only been doing it for a month or so there wasn't much. I didn't really have much to clean up with but I used a rag I found on the floor. I fell asleep sobbing gently at how shit my life looked like it was going to be.
"Get up you lazy piece of shit!". My wake up call at 6am the next morning was not what I wanted. It was barely light outside and much too early for me to get up. I had morning wood but knew there would be no chance to take care of that. Not wanting to risk Mr Arse's wrath I threw my clothes on and went downstairs where he was waiting for me. To say I felt grumpy would be an understatement but I decided to try and show willingness.
"See that patch of land there next to the water butt?" He asked, pointing at an overgrown small field that looked like it had been ignored for years. I nodded and quietly said "Yes sir" and waited to see what he wanted.
"Good. I want it weeded. All of it. Wheelbarrow is outside. Weeds are pulled out and put in the compost pile. Shouldn't take you long. Off you go. I'm going back to bed but when I get up I expect there to have been some progress."
He pushed me outside, shut the door and left me to it. My heart fell at what was ahead of me. It was much too early for manual labour and it wasn't something I was used to. With a heavy sigh I got the wheelbarrow and went over to the weeds to check them out. I had no gloves or anything like that so it was going to involve me yanking them out with my bare hands.
It was backbreaking unpleasant work. Some of the weeds felt as strong as trees and my muscles were soon aching. After a while my hands were raw and slightly blistered from the constant friction with the weeds. I focused on the task in hand though and tried to do as good a job as possible.
As I bent down to try and pull out a particularly stubborn one I suddenly landed flat on my face. Mr Arse had sneaked out and kicked me as hard as he could on my bum leaving me on the floor with a mouthful of soil.
"What the fuck did you you do that for?" I asked angrily, spitting dirt out.
"Because you're a bone idle piece of shit who needs to learn what hard work is. You've barely done any weeding! Have you just been hanging out here sitting on your lazy arse having a nap? Not only have you been lazy but you've also disrespected me. You've sworn at me and didn't call me Sir. So it's time for your punishment!" He said looking red faced and angry. The problem was I was angry too and not in the mood to back down. I was stressed, emotional and exhausted and I snapped.
"No fucking way!" I threw back at him balling my fists up.
He laughed, "So the little shit thinks he can take me on. Is that what you really want? I'll make it clear to you. Pull your pants down now and bend over and I'll give you ten whacks with this broom handle. Refuse and make me have to catch you then when I do that broom handle goes right up your arse. I'll then make you lick it clean."
I looked at him in horror as he picked up the broom and waved it in my direction. At that moment I suspected he was being honest and would enjoy brutalising me. Though every fibre of my being screamed to run I decided I had no choice. I turned around, dropped my trousers and pants and bent over. I tensed waiting for the first hit and fucking hell the pain was like nothing else. The broom handle made a loud swish in the air as Mr Arse used every bit of his strength to hit me as hard as he could. I almost passed out in pain as he did it again and again counting out loud. Finally he reached ten and he told me to pull my clothes up and to get on with work.
I was crying my eyes out and he just laughed, "See, I knew you were soft. Not such a big man are you now? Now get back to work. Oh but first you can thank me for teaching you a lesson!"
"Thank you, Sir," I said through gritted teeth. I wanted to scream and swear at him but what was the point. He was clearly an abusive violent man who got off on bullying. It hurt to stand up and bend down but it was nothing like it hurt to sit down. I suspected my bum was bruised and I just hoped there weren't any splinters embedded in me. The rest of the day was hellish and by evening I was incredibly miserable.
That night my muscles ached like I'd never felt them before. I was hungry as again they'd barely fed me any food. My bum was so sore I had to sleep on my side and when I rolled over in the night it woke me up from the pain. Miserable didn't even begin to cover how I was feeling. I was stuck here in my new life with no way out.
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