"Earning Their Keep"

"Earning Their Keep"


I'd been on the road for almost six months, doing anything I could to feed and house myself. I was a transient per the true definition of the word, but I wasn't a bum. I worked hard for what I was given and almost always had a few dollars stuck away in a pocket.

I was in the middle of nowhere, running out of job leads, when the owner-operator of a small town cafe (for whom I had done some repairs) pointed me toward the Bar-None ranch. When I asked whether the ranch owner paid well, I was told with a sly smile that the compensation would be more than fair.

Sam, the owner of the ranch, put me directly to work, no questions asked. I mucked out stalls, changed a flat tractor tire, used an ATV to bring in the sheep and a horse to locate a cow and calf hiding in the woods, and more.

And through the hours, as if reading my mind, other farm hands would appear without notice, offering a sandwich, a bowl of soup, or a bottle of water to slake my needs and keep me going.

Others worked the ranch, too, some obviously transients like myself and others seemingly long term residents and possibly even family of good ol' Sam. I began to understand the name of the ranch, Bar None, as I saw men and women, old and young, black and white, Hispanic and Asian, English speakers and not, all working hard to get the day's work done before the day ran out. In all, I saw more than two dozen people doing tasks in or around the dozen structures that sat upon the thousand acre ranch.

The sun was falling toward the distant hills when I was called up to the ranch house. I shed my clothes first, down to just my boxers, and jumped into the creek to wash away the dust and sweat. Redressed and quickly drying in the still hot air, I headed up to find Sam waiting with a mason jar of moonshine and a wad of well used greenbacks. I passed on the booze, telling him I was more of a beer man; but I smiled at the sight of the cash. When I looked close at the wad, though, it was obvious that they were mostly ones. I didn't have to count to be disappointed with what was obviously less than twenty dollars.

"You did a good day's work today, Nick," Sam said, his tone revealing that he saw the disappointment in my face. "I appreciate that, and I would like you to stick around for a couple of days if you wanted."

I stared at the pittance for a moment and was ready to ask why the hell I'd stick around for slave wages, when I looked up and found him staring off at one of the many little log cabins that housed the longer term, transient workers.

I turned and followed his gaze, and my heart skipped a beat at the sight of the naked woman, posing on the porch, staring directly at me.

"We all earn our keep here, Nick," Sam went on, "in the way that we are suited. Maggie earns her keep by..."

He didn't finish, but I didn't really notice as my eyes were glued to the sexy woman turning and wandering slowly into her one room cabin. When I turned back to Sam, he had a slight smirk on his lips.

"I owe you, Nick ... and she owes me," Sam explained without really explaining. He turned and headed into the house, calling over his shoulder, "We eat breakfast at five."

I watched him disappear into the dark of the big log house, then turned to look at Maggie's place again. I looked to the money, stuffed it in my pocket, then looked around and -- as I expected -- found some of the other workers looking my way. Some wore wide, devilish smiles; while others glared at me disapprovingly.

I hesitated, then headed to and through Maggie's open door, closing it behind me. Sam owes me, and she owes Sam, I reminded myself as I met Maggie's gaze and began unbuttoning my shirt...

"Let me help..." Maggie said as she walked over to him. "So you're new around here. How long are you planning on staying around?" She asked as she finished unbuttoning his shirt and moved onto his pants. "If you're going to be around awhile it'd be nice to know your name, I'm sure you've already heard that I'm Maggie." She sat down on the edge of the bed letting him take care of removing the rest of his clothes. "I'm here to meet whatever needs you may have..."

"Let me help..."

Maggie walked over to me, reaching to my chest to help me out of my shirt. I got my first up close and personal look at her, and I was even more impressed than I had been at a hundred feet.

Her skin was fair and flawless, ironic considering the foul, late summer conditions outside. I breathed in deeply, picking up both the scent of something flowery -- perfume, shampoo? -- and her own natural scent resulting from the heat of the August day. I'd always loved the smell of a sweating woman, whether she'd just finished running a marathon or driving me to a series of orgasms.

"So you're new around here. How long are you planning on staying around?"

"Don't know," I said softly.

I wasn't sure how to answer. If she turned out to be a great fuck and I was to continue having access to her each day, Sam might have a hard time getting rid of me. But if she turned out to be a dead lay, or if Sam said Once is enough, well I certainly wasn't going to stick around and work my ass off for twenty bucks a day, free fuck or not.

Maggie finished unbuttoning my shirt, then unbuckled and unsnapped my jeans. She moved back to the bed as she said, "If you're going to be around awhile it'd be nice to know your name, I'm sure you've already heard that I'm Maggie."

I couldn't help but smile, though I tried as hard to keep it from taking over my entire face. This beautiful, naked woman who was about to have sex with me was asking what my name was. I'd had a lot of one night stands in my life, and I'd even had a couple of hookers back in the city. But with each of them -- even the whores! -- I had at least known their name and they mine before either of us got as naked as Maggie was now or as I was about to become.

"Rick," I said simply, not including my surname. "Richard ... but ... I prefer Rick."

"I'm here to meet whatever needs you may have..."

I forced one boot off, then the other, then slid the jeans down and stepped out of them. I noticed Maggie's gaze falling down yonder, and I glanced to my crotch to find my cock pointing excitedly at her through the open fly of my boxers.

I walked slowly over to the bed, stopping so close to her that my erection was only inches from her face. If this had been anything else -- sex with a girl friend, a date with a new lover, or even a one night stand -- I probably would have started by dropping to my knees and pressing my mouth to that beautiful, baby-butt smooth skinned pussy. But, Maggie was here to serve me, and to be honest, I was exhausted and beat from a long days work, and I just didn't have it in me to spent a bunch of time on foreplay right now.

I reached a hand out to her face, caressing her cheek, then slipped my hand behind her head and urged her face toward my anxiously awaiting erection.

"You don't need to be so pushy." She said as she moved closer to him. As she opened her mouth she slowly started to guide his cock inside. Her tongue ran over every inch as she took as much as she possibly could. Her head started to bob up and down as she sucked and licked. It was obvious this wasn't the first time she had done such a thing. Maggie had plenty of practice with all the guys that had come through the ranch.

"You don't need to be so pushy."

I relaxed my hand on the back of her head, then let it slowly slip away. I hadn't meant to seem demanding, but obviously I had. And the last thing I wanted to do was piss her off. At least, not until I'd been compensated for my hard day' work.

I drew a deep, pleasured breath at the feel of Maggie's warm, wet mouth taking in my shaft. It didn't take but a moment to realize that this wasn't anything new to her. The skill with which she employed her tongue and lips and fingers was supreme, and I knew it wouldn't be long before she drove me to orgasm.

I looked down to the top of her head and watched her mouth as it slid to and fro over my cock. Her saliva glistened upon my length, making me wonder whether she was as wet down below as she was making me up here.

Maggie was, in a sense, just doing her job. Did this excite her as much as it might a woman with whom I had a relationship? I doubted it. But then again, I didn't really care. All I cared about now ... cared about now ... was that I ... enjoyed ... enjoyed what she was ... doing to me, oh god ... and that I ... oh, Jesus..

I couldn't believe how fast Maggie was driving me toward ecstasy. She was taking in most of my thick nine inches, something only a small percent of women who'd ever gone down on me could do. I couldn't help but wonder how many men she'd driven to orgasm in her young life. Was I one of a handful, a dozen, a couple dozen ... hundreds?

"Oh, Gawd, Maggie," I moaned as I reached the point of no return and felt the explosion building in my groin. I reached my hand to her head again, wanting to hold her in place, to take my load into her mouth and throat.

But I quickly pulled my hand back, remembering her comment about my being pushy. I wasn't going to force her to take my load in her mouth; I wasn't going to force her to swallow my ejaculate.

"I'm gonna cum," I warned, my words labor as was my breathing. I peaked, and with a great grunt exploded, sending out pulse after pulse of my thick, white stuff. My head tilted back and I stared at the old, weather-beaten roof and I groaned, "Oh, gawwwwd, Maggie..."

She took every drop of his cum into her mouth and swallowed. It wasn't something she enjoyed doing but it seemed that most men preferred her to do so. It was just another part of her 'job'. When he was done she stood up laying her hands on his bare chest "So is that all?" She asked knowing that usually once a man had cum once he was done with her and would quickly walk out the door and be on his way. "I'm sorry if I seem harsh... I just don't know what it is you like yet." She said realizing she may have come off a bit rude.

There was just something so fucking erotic about unloading my cock in a woman's mouth, so I was thrilled when Maggie took every shot into her throat and swallowed it down.

Once the last of the little quakes ceased down below, she stood before me asking, "So is that all?"

Is that all? I thought. I couldn't tell from Maggie's response to my cumming in her mouth was her way of asking me what more she could do for me; or her way of telling me she'd rather be done with me.

I would have loved to lay her back and fuck the hell out of her, but honestly, I was simply beat. On the other hand, I didn't want to leave because I did want more of her later, and Sam might assume that his bill was paid in full once I left. He might not take kindly to me asking for another go around with the beautiful camp whore.

"I'm sorry if I seem harsh... I just don't know what it is you like yet." she said.

The euphoria was still running its course through me as I said softly, "I liked that very much ... in case you hadn't noticed."

I looked down into her eyes from a foot above, then smiled as I thought I came up with a solution to my dilemma. "May I sleep her tonight, Maggie. With you. Do you do that?"

My suggestion was a way to extend my time with her until the next morning, when I might not be as exhausted as I was.

Maggie was surprised by his request. "I guess if you want to say here you can spend the night." She moved away from him not sure what he was hoping to gain from staying. Picking up his clothing that was scattered along her floor she hoped he didn't see that she felt a bit uncomfortable. This was new to her. Normally she was done with her job at this point and could just go on with her life. As she sat his clothes on a chair she looked at him "do you mind if I get dressed?"

"I guess if you want to stay here you can spend the night."

I knew it was an odd request. If this had been the city and I'd paid for a whore, she would have laughed as she held out her hand and asked "Got another three hundred dollars?"

I could tell my Maggie's tone that this either wasn't typical for the men she serviced or simply wasn't something she particularly wanted. A stranger first cums in her mouth, then asks to sleep next to her in her bed...? I could see how that might result in anything other than Maggie jumping up and down in joy.

As she began gathering my clothes and setting them on a chair, I began to realize just how inappropriate my request had been. I'd done good work today, work that had come to an end. And I'd been paid for it, with a fist full of dollars and an incredible blow job that even still was having an affect on my body and mind.

Maggie had done good work today, too, and would be paid for it by Sam with whatever arrangement they had. This cabin, food, security I assumed from a harsh world, and who knew what else their arrangement entailed.

But, with me staying here in her bed, Maggie's day -- unlike mine -- wasn't coming to an obvious end. I was, essentially, doing to her what my former employers had done to me for years: asking for more and more but giving less and less.

It wasn't right.

"Do you mind if I get dressed?" Maggie asked, turning back to face me.

She was so incredible. It had been a long time since I'd seen a young woman so erotically beautiful. My gaze dropped to that freshly shaved triangle of flesh at the meeting of her thighs, and I wanted to badly to throw her to the bed and sink my now flaccid but yet occasionally twitching cock deep inside her.

Two things stopped me, of course: my own sheer exhaustion and my regret for having asked to stay. I still wanted to fuck Maggie -- badly -- but I just didn't have it in me now.

I didn't want to see her cover up either, but that didn't stop me from saying politely, "Of course."

As she did as she would do, I moved away from her bed rather than onto it, found a big thick quilt, unfolded it, wrapped it around my socked-only body, and dropped into a big, deep, soft-cushioned chair near a cold fireplace.

I watched her with interest, taking in her sensual curves, wondering how she came to be here, how she came to be who and want she was...

...and before I knew it...

...I was out.

(Sending you a PM.)

Maggie had barely slept during the night. Tossing and turning as she continued to think about the man who was lying naked in her chair. She felt uncomfortable and it made it difficult for her to relax. When the sun had finally come out she had gotten up, showered, and dressed in her clothes. Looking at him one last time she left before he had even woken and headed to the house to help cook breakfast hoping it would be enough to take away all the thoughts of the strange night she had gone through.

(OOC: I don't usually write First Person, but for some reason I began this that way. I'm going to switch to third person as you have been all along.)

The banging of the meal triangle up at the ranch house jolted Nick awake. He sat up in the chair, disoriented and a bit loss at first. Then, it all came back to him, and he looked quickly to the bed only to find it empty and neatly made.

Nick hadn't been certain whether Maggie would have obliged him, but he'd actually been hoping to get a little this morning before breakfast. He stood, a bit disappointed, folded the quilt -- shivering at the early morning chill -- and set it on the bed. He found his clothes neatly laid upon an old wood chair and donned them, foregoing a shower.

Up at the ranch house, most of the other workers were already assembled. Some were helping with preparing the huge meal while others were already sat at an incredibly long table, waiting for what smelled like heaven to be delivered.

"Sit by me!" a young girl called to Nick, waving him to the empty chair next to her.

She was quite a sight, twelve or thirteen maybe with a face full of huge, dark freckles and thick, reddish orange braids sticking out from behind her ears. Nick looked around for familiar faces but found none, then took the seat next to her with a smile and a thank you. She was all smiles and giggles asking him questions faster than he could answer until the food began coming out and there was sudden and dramatic change in the room's mood.

"We have to be silent," the young teen whispered. "So's everyone can pray in their own way."

Nick's gaze moved about the room as he watched some bow their heads and others simply eye the food anxiously. Then he caught sight of Maggie coming out with a huge platter. He was about to smile to her when he thought better of it. He was a stranger, an outsider, who had put in a day's labor and then been serviced by one of the local women. He had no idea what the social dynamic here was: for all he knew, one or more of these men had a thing for Maggie and wouldn't be too tickled about Nick making it obvious to all that he'd been pleasured by her the night before.

He felt a tap at his thigh and looked to Red, finding her smiling knowingly at him after nodding her head toward Maggie. She whispered almost inaudibly, "Everyone knows, so relax."

Nick felt his face flush, which was unusual for the normal bold and unflappable man. He looked to his plate for a long moment, then glanced about the table's occupants. There were twenty-six people sitting with him, mostly men, mostly 20-ish to 30-ish. And according to Red, they all knew that he'd had sex with the beautiful brunette who was finally taking her seat at the table.

He felt about as awkward as a dressed man in a nudist camp. But, there wasn't much he could do about it. If he'd thought he couldn't handle a little attention, he could have told Sam "No thanks" when the rancher offered the young woman to him the night before.

There was along hush about the room, through which Nick -- with bowed head -- glanced out of the corner of his eyes at Maggie, sitting halfway up the table closer to their host. She was so beautiful. And, of course, he already knew she was erotic. His cock was hardening as he thought about having her again after another day's hard labor.

Then a thought hit him: would he ever have her again? Maybe last night's blow job had been it. Maybe he'd had his shot at Maggie and now, having passed on being inside of her, it was just too late for him.

"Dig in everyone," Sam finally said.

Almost before he finished his direction, the room erupted in conversation and hands began reaching about for pancakes, biscuits, sausages, bacon, pitchers of milk, pots of coffee, and so much more. Nick was seriously impressed with the spread.

And yet he couldn't seem to keep his eyes off the woman whose mouth had been wrapped around his shaft the night before. Nick had to have Maggie again. Even if it mean cutting down and sawing up an entire maple tree with his bare hands, Nick just had to enjoy the euphoria of being deep inside that beautiful woman.

Breakfast had always been one of Maggie's least favorite parts of the day. She couldn't stand all the stares and whispers. It wasn't like she had chosen to what she did because she liked it. Maggie needed a place to live and a way to support herself. When she first ended up here she had planned on doing manual labor, not men, but she wasn't very strong and got in the way more often than not. Sam had been the one to propose the idea to her and after taking her time to think about how she really had no other option she had accepted.

Sitting at the table now she felt ashamed and uncomfortable and Nick's glances didn't make it any better. He was just another guy staring at her and judging her. Thinking she was just a plaything for him to enjoy. After a few minutes she couldn't take it and stood up excusing herself from the table and heading into the kitchen to eat alone.

Nick watched Maggie depart the table. His first thought was that she might be going for more platters or bowls or pitchers, but she took her plate and glass with her. He watched her go, then glanced Sam's direction.

The old rancher inconspicuously glanced Nick's way and, fearing that his newest laborer might be thinking about rising and taking a short walk himself, gently nodded his head.

Nick went back to his meal, glancing toward the kitchen door occasionally for a glance of Maggie, to no avail. He caught Red giving him sideways glances a couple of times, followed by soft giggles; and he caught the disapproving glare of a few of the others as well.

Several minutes had passed when someone asked if there was more coffee. Sam quickly began to rise, saying, "I'll get it."

It wasn't uncommon for the ranch's owner to serve his workers this way, so no one thought twice about it. But once he was in the kitchen, he turned and stopped close in front of Maggie and looked her deeply in her eyes.

"You need not feel uncomfortable, child," he said in a soft, fatherly voice. "You have no need to feel embarrassed over what you did for Nick ... over what you do for the others ... for me. You provide an important service here, just as everyone does. And you are good at what you do, which is why I continue to ask it of you."

Sam knew first hand just how good Maggie was in bed. He'd been the first man on the ranch to partake of her skills, and he'd enjoyed her so much that he'd almost taken her as his lover rather than turn her loose with the other men.

But he'd had no use for a relationship, and -- as with everyone on Bar-None -- Maggie had needed a way to earn her keep. Farming and ranching certainly wasn't for her. Sam smiled a bit, recalling some of the adventures she'd gotten herself into before she became the ranch whore.

He reached a hand out and touch her cheek softly. "Was he good to you, child? Polite ... gentle? Do I need to take him down to the creek and beat him with a shovel?"

"He did nothing wrong. He barely even touched me." She said as she pushed his hand away from her "I don't even want the payment for last night... It wouldn't be right of me." She sat her now empty glass and plate in the sink "I don't provide an important service. I'm here to pay men for their work do that you don't have to. I'm here as a way out for you. You get cheap labor and I'm the one paying for it. Of course I'm ashamed. I'm a whore... Do you have any idea what the people out there think of me?" Maggie didn't even wait for any type of answer before starting to head for the door.

Sam reached out quickly and grasped Maggie by the upper arm, turning her back to him and pulling her into his embrace. For any other man, this would have seemed a sexually inappropriate gesture, particularly following so quickly to her own description of herself as a whore and particularly with the fact that once upon a time, Sam himself had partaken of her skills between the sheets.

But for the past year or so, Sam had been more of a father figure to Maggie. He hadn't been with her since those first two incredible nights, and he'd always been there for her when she needed a shoulder to cry on or an older more experienced mind from which to glean knowledge.

So when he pulled her tightly into his arms, he knew that she would know this wasn't about her body and his, firmly against one another. This was about true meaningful love, not the kind that other men thought they were showing to her when they were naked with her in her little cabin.

"Maggie, you have no reason to feel that way," he whispered to her, pulling the head of the shorter woman against his chest. "We are all whores in this world. We all are slaves to another, giving our all in what ever way we are required."

Sam may have seemed like the powerful land baron to many of the years, but that was only because no one knew the truth of the ranch. He was up to his eye balls in debt. It was his own doing, of course, but it had been a choice he'd made because he simply hadn't been able to continue on the way he had been.

Ten years before Maggie came to the property, it had been a productive cattle ranch, supporting a thousand head of angus steers that went to some of the finest restaurants in the West. And Sam was what they called well-to-do, with a healthy bank account, a brand new truck every year, and a pretty little wife that could have taught even the very skillful Maggie a few things about pleasuring a man with her hands and mouth.

But it hadn't been enough. He had nothing to show for his life but the money and the beautiful missus who, of course, would probably leave him in a flash if the money were to simply go away.

He had been considering putting her to the test -- considering giving up the high value business -- when tragedy struck and he lost her to a sudden illness. He faded away, spending his days and nights sitting in their bedroom, staring at the bed they'd once stared, the window box from which they'd once watched sunset.

His hands took over the work for as long as they could, but there had been certain things that only the ranch's owner could handle. And Sam was no longer interested in such work. He sold off the cattle, paid off the workers for their fine efforts, and declared the ranch a closed business. He left the social organizations, stopped visiting with neighbors, and simply disappeared from the world around him.

Until the day a transient showed up, looking for work. Then another, then another, then yet another. And each arrived with his or her own life experiences and knowledge. An herb gardener, a stone mason, a dessert chef, a plumber's assistance, and more. Some stayed a night, some stayed a month, some simply stayed.

Today, the ranch boasted an average of 30 souls -- some permanent residents, some just passing through -- and the property that had once been the place of nothing more than cattle raising now had two dozen different species of animals, a vast garden with hundreds of different crops, and so, so much more.

And ... it had Maggie.

Sam released his hold on the young woman, holding her by the upper arms before him and looking down at her. She hadn't been cut out for much of what was going on at the ranch that Sam had renamed the Bar-None to indicate that all were welcome. He could still remember the incident with the tractor and the green house, as well as the slight misunderstanding with the difference between fertilizer and pesticide.

But he'd refused to let her leave, knowing that this place was safe for her. Sure, there were people here who thought what she did -- opening her thighs and mouth for men -- was intolerable, indecent, sinful. And while these people often gave the young beauty the evil eye, they knew that to open their own mouths with words of disrespect was to signal their desire to leave the ranch, for Sam had no tolerance for criticism by one person of the work of others, even if it was essentially prostitution.

"You are a valued member of my family, Maggie," Sam said softly, his tone and smile sincere. "You will always be welcome here in my home, and you should never be ashamed of the good work you do. As far as what I get for your labor..."

He couldn't truly defend himself without explaining that the reason it appeared he asked so much and gave so little was that he'd given all he had to those in need and had nothing to give but a warm, dry place to sleep, three solid meals a day, and protection from a harsh world that existed beyond those gates.

The world out there was a mean one, with crime and drugs and government intrusion and crooked businessmen and so much more. With the exception of paying his taxes and sending a truck to the market once a week for the necessities of life they couldn't produced here, Sam had no interaction with that world anymore. He had no room for it in his life.

He feared often that Maggie would tire of giving her all to the ranch's men and take a chance out there. But, if she decided to do so, he would fill her pockets with money, kiss her forehead, and wish her the best.

He continued his thought, "As far as that goes, I appreciate what you do for the men. They appreciate it, obviously. Those who don't..."

A smile spread across his face as he considered his next two words. Sam wasn't the profanity type, but even that wasn't the reason this made him smile. It was the relationship between his next two words and what Maggie did on the Bar-None. He finished, "fuck'em. We don't care about them, do we?"

He released his hands from her, giving her the freedom to depart as she had planned...



Nick had finished his breakfast, spending the last several minutes of it with his attention shifting from the opening of the kitchen -- in which he could see only Sam's back -- and Red's never ending jokes that more often than not started with Knock knock, A blond..., or Why did the chicken...

She was a cute kid, and Nick would have enjoyed the entertainment more if his attention hadn't been upon what was going on in the kitchen on the far side of the raucous breakfast crowd.

Eventually, the men and women around the table began rising away from totally cleared plates, stacking the dishware neatly before heading out with compliments to the breakfast staff.

"Come with me, Nick," a man said, slapping him on the back.

The big Mexican had helped Nick on the tree the day before and had discussed a project that they hadn't yet started, waiting for another strong pair of hands. Nick rose, but hesitated, eying Sam's backside.

The man, Julio, caught Nick by the arm and gently pulled him along, saying knowingly, "She's not going anywhere, Nick. You'll see her later."

He felt a bit embarrassed -- particularly when Red began giggling behind him -- and he fell into step behind the man. They went first to a tool shed where Julio found Nick a rugged set of work clothes; and next they were at a collapsed building, working on repairing a wall that had been decimated by a ferocious storm the year before.

For quite a while Nick's attention kept returning to the ranch house and sometimes Maggie's cabin. But eventually, he was lost in the work and forgot about the young woman for whom he was having so many thoughts.

After the ordeal in the kitchen Maggie had quickly rushed off to her cabin. She had laid down and did he best to get some sleep after her restless night. She woke back up a couple of hours later and started picking up the small room knowing shed probably have a guest coming in at any moment. When she was finished she sat in the chair that Nick had been sleeping in before, wondering if she was doing the right thing by staying there.

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