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Saturday, July 31, 2004
Videosz Sex story
HARLEY & MUTT By Waddie Greywolf
CHAPTER 6
"The more things a man has to be ashamed of the more respectable he is."
G.B. Shaw
Mutt's real reason for leaving Tucson was to find Harley and Janice. He
certainly didn't have any intentions of becoming a part of their immediate,
extended family. Immediate, extended family, he mused to himself. He had
to think about that for a minute. Then he laughed to himself and thought,
Every man should create at least one oxymoron in his life. Maybe that's
why the old man created me. Damn it, for some reason I need them right
now.
There's times in a man's life when he's more comfortable being around
someone who seems to vibrate on his same frequency. Harley made Mutt feel
comfortable. It wasn't anything he did overtly. It was just a feeling
that passed between the two men. Harley felt it but didn't have a clue.
He didn't want to have a clue but he too understood there was something
special about his cowboy buddy. While he enjoyed the blow job Mutt gave
him on that cold, dark and stormy night he didn't think much about it and
his feelings for Mutt weren't sexual. Surprisingly, Mutt felt the same.
He simply accepted Harley as a straight man and wasn't about to push;
especially, since he was Janice's mate. Mutt had the cowboy code drilled
into him over the years and he was as strong in his beliefs as his brother
was in his.
Shuck all the words like love, buddies, extended family, friendship or
even companionship. The feeling every man gets about someone, at least
once in his life, he never quite comes to grips with why he felt the way he
did but yet he knows, for some damn reason, he's drawn to them. They just
seem to fit in your life like a pair of old, well worn boots. When you put
them on you know your going to be comfortable. It's an easy feeling. It
can be good or it can be bad. It can be the portal to a door into a black
pit.
Others, with not so good intentions can mimic that comfort like an
insectivorous plant imitates a good plant to catch it's unsuspecting
victims. So it is with people. That trust or comfort can be the doorway
to the depths of destructive addiction in which a human being, for what
ever reason, can find themselves, lost, having their souls sucked from
their person. While seeking reassurance and acceptance they find
themselves becoming unwitting and unwilling slaves, to a darker side of
humanity. They give and give thinking this is the real thing, until, not
unlike the poor captured insect, discovers it's too late. They may protest
but the more they struggle the more they lose their will, their strength of
purpose and ultimately accept their fate.
All men are vulnerable to human meat machines who have no conscience
about sucking a man's soul dry and then leave him without compassion to
either perish, lift himself from the pit, or simply accept defeat and
become a meat machine himself.
Harley's not a meat machine. He has a well developed, if not organized,
soul. Somehow, maybe because of his upbringing, Mutt was able to pick up
on that. Harley has a bright light of compassion and goodness within him
he's neither fully developed nor found a purpose for other than to be a
good man. Among the biker families, Harley Boone is perhaps one of a
handful of men who could be considered a truly handsome man. He is quite
possibly every man and woman's ideal of what a macho, ruggedly handsome man
should look like.
He bills himself as a straight man but inside Harley has conflicts.
Sometimes he can't help himself if a good looking young man wants to suck
his dick or give him some boy butt. Harley never compromises. There are
no gray areas in Harley's mind. He's the fuckor and only gets sucked.
That doesn't mean he never tried it when he was younger or still wonders
once in a while what it might be like with a good buddy he could really
trust. He decided for himself he wanted to be straight and he wasn't
crossing that line.
Harley's rationalization for fucking a man was simple. He only does it
from time to time when he can't find a cunt to fuck or he becomes bored
with the one he's with. Once in a while he likes to throw a good, hard
fuck into a man's ass because he hasn't met a woman who can take a good
hard fucking for very long. The way Harley understands sex, even without
love, has to do with his need to be a good man.
Harley tries hard to be a good man. He's understanding and
compassionate. He'd gentle, considerate, and not rough with women. On the
other hand, he understands he's simply being compassionate, understanding
and certainly considerate to give a hot young man a good hard ass ride he's
so desperately begging Harley for. He has never confronted the reality of
why he always feels so much more physically and emotionally released after
a good hard ride with a man than ten times with a woman. He, does,
however, accept the fact a good blow job or some boy butt is something he
has to have now and then and has no intention of giving up.
Harley's almost the perfect lover for any woman. He's funny, charming,
listens to them and makes them his friend as well. Most straight men don't
know how to make friends with a woman. Women become sexual objects for men
to conquer, pollinate, then move on to the next blossom. That's why so
many women fall in love with gay men. Gay men know how to befriend women.
Even though rumors eventually got back to all his ladies Harley went
with a man from time to time he was so genuinely convincing and sincere a
straight lover none of them believed them. He was only confronted once by
one of them but it wasn't Janice. He smiled, laughed and told her the
truth. He told her he hoped she wasn't embarrassed by it because if she
rode with him it would happen once in a while but he would never do it to
consciously hurt her. He would try to be more discrete. None of them left
him because of it.
They only thing that would signal the end of a relationship was when the
old lady began to get the nesting urge and want Harley to sell his bike,
become a nine to fiver and come home every night to five screaming rug
rats. The horror it produced of being confined to any woman, doing the same
damn thing, day in and day out, year after year, was far worse to Harley's
mind than prison. He was free on the road. Harley saw the rest of the
world as a set of traps and snares for him ride through. Since Nam he'd
managed to escape every one
Janice rode with him the longest. She was a mousey little blonde haired
woman around twenty-three. She wasn't the typical fast living, thrill
seeking, hard drinking, mouthy, brassy broad that most of the men rode on
their bikes. Why she became a biker follower she never knew. She rode
with a couple of other bikers before she and Harley got together. She was
alone riding with her gay brother when they met.
Janice was far from pretty and many of the biker broads would make
passes at Harley, openly proposition him, in front of Janice, but Harley
was faithful to her when they were riding together. The other biker
'mamas' referred to Janice rather unkindly as 'Mouse.' Harley wasn't a
womanizer. He genuinely liked Janice. She worked hard to meet his needs
and not bug him too much. Most times, he was comfortable with her. They
had an off and on relationship for several years.
Harley told her from the first how he lived his life and the rules if
she wanted to ride with him and be his old lady. Ever since he returned
from Nam he hadn't been able to sit still for long. The idea of
confinement was an anathema to him. He got uptight and paced a lot when he
and Janice would stay in a motel room. He preferred being out in the open
in a tent away from cities and towns. He would warn her twice about
talking to him about settling down and getting married and then the third
time she would find herself standing alone with a bus ticket in her hand to
anywhere she wanted to go.
It happened to them four or five times and each time Harley would have a
new old lady on the back of his bike within days. If he and Janice ran
into each other he was polite but wouldn't engage in heavy conversation
with her; most times, he was with another woman. Then something would
happen, they would be alone at the same time again and start riding
together.
Mutt found the Hot Dawgs and was welcomed by everyone. Rondo and Banger
were glad to see him again and told everyone of his winning at the Prescott
rodeo. Beryl had come back to ride with the Hot Dawgs for a while and told
them all about him and Waddie winning. They knew what Spider did to Mutt
before and they were all proud of him for his accomplishment. They also
heard Spider was there, at the Prescott rodeo and watched as Mutt and his
brother walked away with the prize money.
Beryl related to Harley what the boy had gone through since he left
everyone in Phoenix. Harley came over to Mutt with a big smile on his face
hugged and kissed him on the cheek.
"Damn, it's good to see you again, Son. Congratulations on winning in
Prescott. News travels fast in this crowd."
"Thanks, Mr. Harley, it's good to see you again, too. Sorry I ran out
on everyone in Phoenix. Didn't mean no disrespect, Mr. Harley. I jus'
had to go."
"We're buddies ain't we, Son."
"You bet, Mr. Harley."
"Don't never need to apologize to your buddy for som'thin' like that.
Ain't a biker here who ain't had that feeling come over him one time or
another. You gotta' go, ya' gotta go! S'all there is to it, Son."
"Thanks, Mr. Harley. Where's Ms. Janice?" Mutt realized maybe he
shouldn't have asked. He just arrived and didn't have time to catch up on
things. Then he quickly added, "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Harley. I didn't
think, s'none of my business anyway, Sir, I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for, Bro. You couldn't have known. I took Janice
home to her folks. She wouldn't stop talking about settling down and
raising kids. I warned her and told her the third time she goes. Well,
they all have to push to see if'n you really mean it. She pushed and found
out I did mean it. I wasn't mean to her I just took her home where she can
find a nice young man, settle down and have her litter."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Harley. I liked Ms. Janice. She was
good to me."
"Yeah, she was and that's part of why I liked her. She was good hearted
and saw goodness in you. I ain't saying I might not see her again or
wouldn't consider having her ride with me again but I don't wanna' settle
down with no woman. Certainly not right now. I'm twenty-eight years old
and I ain't even gonna' think about settling down 'til I'm thirty-five or
so. Plenty of time to find some woman to settle down with. Hell, who
knows? By that time I may have the road too much in my blood and not want
to settle down a' tall. So, Cowboy, feel like ride'n by your buddy's side
for a while?"
"Sure would, Mr. Harley. That would be great."
"C'mon, then, throw your gear in my tent." Harley smiled and Mutt looked
at him kinda funny. "You heard me, Son, throw your gear in my tent." Then
a big smile came across Mutt's face.
"Yes, Sir, Mr. Harley!" Mutt did as he was told and had a wonderful
afternoon talking to folks and learning what was new with whom. Spider was
not riding with the Hot Dawgs. He and his four cronies were riding with
another group at the time.
Beryl and Big Jim were glad to see Mutt again and hugged him.
"Got a place to stow your stuff, Son?" asked Beryl with a wry smile. He
new Harley was going to ask Mutt to stay with him.
"Uhhh, yes, Sir, Master Beryl. Mr. Harley, he asked me to throw my
gear in his tent. Is that okay?"
"Of course it's okay, Son. Just ask'n in case you didn't have no buddy
to bunk it in with this evening." Beryl smiled and winked at him and then
Mutt realized Beryl was having a bit of fun with him. Mutt knew Beryl knew
how much he though of Harley. As it turned out Beryl and Big Jim had their
tents not far from Harleys.
Early in the evening Waddie, Beryl, Mutt and Harley all went to the
campground showers to clean up. They returned, rode into the small town
near their campground and got take out to take back to camp. They spent
the evening together and had a great time. Finally, everyone in camp was
going to bed early because the family was going to be up and on the road
shortly after sun up. They meant it, too. If the leaders called for an
early morning departure and you weren't ready to ride when the major part
of the family was, you were left behind.
Harley climbed in his tent shucked off his clothes and got into his bed
roll. Mutt took his boots off but didn't remove his clothes. He started
to get into his bed roll.
"Mutt, w'duya do'n?"
"Get'n in my bedroll, Mr. Harley."
"Take your clothes off, Son. That's an order!" Harley said gently.
Mutt knew his buddy well enough not to argue with him. He wouldn't anyway.
If one could worship at the feet of another man, Mutt would build a sacred
shrine at Harley's boots: Our Lady of the Wescos.
"Yes, Sir, Mr. Harley." Mutt shucked off his clothes and quickly got
into his bedroll. It was still summer and it was warm. It was really too
warm for a full bedroll so Harley opened his to the waist. After a while
he didn't have to ask Mutt to relax and get comfortable. Mutt was
suffering in the heat. He pushed his down automatically and then turned
away from Harley.
"Mutt?" Harley rolled on his side and spooned Mutt. Mutt could feel
Harley's dick hard as a rock poking him in his rear. Harley drew Mutt up
to himself. Mutt couldn't help himself, he melted into his handsome
friend's arms.
"Yes, Sir, Mr. Harley?"
"Do you remember that wonderful blow job you gave me that horrible night
we didn't know whether we were going to make it or not?" Harley quietly
asked Mutt. There was a long pause before Mutt answered. Harley wasn't
going to press the issue.
"Ain't thought of much else since, Mr. Harley." Mutt finally admitted
in a shy whisper like it was a sacred secret, the worst of sins, he was
whispering to a priest in confession. Harley held him and waited almost an
equally long time before his next question.
"If it was that good for us under those circumstances, how do you think
it would be here and now where we're warm, clean and comfortable?" Harley
let the idea lay in an effort to make it as much Mutt's thought as his.
Again there was a long silence. Mutt had to think of the right words to
say. Harley knew and secretly smiled to himself.
"For me it'ud be a taste of heaven, Mr. Harley and I'd do my dead level
best to get you as close to them pearly gates as I possibly could." Mutt
softly replied. Harley chuckled at his enthusiasm.
"Should I say a prayer and let St. Peter know we're on our way?" Harley
gently laughed waiting for a reply he wasn't ready for.
"Naw, Sir. Take too long. He'll see us a' come'n." Mutt giggled and
Harley fell out laughing. He laughed so hard he got Beryl and Waddie
laughing.
"He'ah!! Settle down over there!" Beryl barked and started half the
camp laughting.
Harley gently kissed Mutt behind the ear and told him he'd settle for
waving distance to St. Peter. Mutt laughed until he had his buddy's cock
all the way down his throat. Harley swore afterwards he was sure he waved
to St. Peter and thought he once saw the Old Man as well. Harley tried
not to be too vocal when he shot his load in Mutt's hungry mouth but for
all his might he couldn't help let out a deep throated moan that emanated
from the bottom of his soul only to hear his buddy answer in kind as he
sucked and swallowed his friend's come.
They lay there together enjoying the afterglow of their love making.
Mutt gently cleaning Harley then taking his towel to gently dry him. Then
the applause and laughter started and went all around the camp. Harley and
Mutt laughed, too. Harley pulled Mutt up to him and for once kissed him
gently on the mouth. Mutt didn't push but let his friend take all he
needed. Mutt rolled on his side and Harley threw his arm around him again.
"What about my buddy?"
"I all ready come, Mr. Harley, in my towel." Mutt wasn't lying. He was
so engrossed in his performance he shot in his towel he placed under him
for just such an emergency.
"Well, I'll be damned. To hell with the camp, Mutt, I appreciated it
and enjoyed the hell out of it." He gently kissed Mutt on his neck," You
couldn't a' gotten me much closer to them gates if you'd a' used a wheel
barrow and dumped my ass out in front of him."
"Next time, Mr. Harley." Mutt giggled and set Harley to laughing again.
The next morning at breakfast and coffee around the campfire there were
many grins and Waddie kept poking Mutt and giggling like a little brother
who was kidding his older brother for having a school crush. There came a
lull in the conversation. Big Beryl took a deep breath.
"Fuck! Thought a couple of times I's gonna' hav'ta take my wide belt
out a' my pants,---come over there and quiet you two down. If'n I hadn't
a' been distracted by a hot buckaroo's tongue finding my little green snake
I'd a probably done it, too." They all laughed. Then, Harley, with no
shame, proceeded to tell them the story of whether to pray to St. Peter or
not. Beryl and Waddie were in tears they laughed so hard.
It was the end of summer. It was August and while it was still hot the
evenings were beautiful. Barton Tinker and Zane joined up with the Hot
Dawgs. A week later Booger Red and Cowboy joined up with the group. The
eight men became a group within a group. They were great friends with the
two leaders Rondo Cabasian and Banger Deets. They became a central core of
the family even though they were all independent riders. Everyone wanted
to share their campfire. There was always so many outrageous stories to
listen to and there seemed to be a peaceful sense of comradery that was
relaxing and good for all.
Waddie, Cowboy and Mutt roped in any small country rodeo they came
across and usually a lot of money changed hands. The family knew what
their cowboys could do and bet heavily on them. They always won. There
was a good hearted rivalry going between the men as to what team would take
the top money. Waddie and Mutt, or Waddie and Cowboy, or Mutt and Cowboy.
The three cowboys could've cared less what team won they were having too
good a time roping. It went a long way to helping with on the road
expenses. Cowboy didn't really need a lot of money at the time and Mutt
was still pretty flush from his Vegas and Reno winnings.
Several times they let Waddie take the whole prize for his bankroll.
They were brothers. They didn't care. Mutt shared a lot with his buddy
Harley but Harley paid his way. He was a proud man and wasn't about to get
the reputation of being a user. He was there every rodeo rooting for his
buddy to win and the first to console him when he didn't. It became a
magical time for Mutt and later even Harley had to admit it was a pretty
special time for him, too.
The end of summer came and the eight to twelve men were still riding
together. Sometimes they'd be joined by Bull and Charlie, Big Jim and
Master Jeb, Zack, Master Earl and Wes. Waddie and Mutt learned to love and
appreciate Wes as much as Cowboy and Big Red. Wes didn't say much but when
he did you wanted to listen because it was important.
The second week in September there came a chill in the air and there was
a large departure of the 'snow birds' in the family to seek warmer climes.
They were the older mom and pop bikers who would ride during the warmer
months but disappear to their trailers as far South as they could get for
the winter. Many lived outside of San Diego, El Paso, Harlingen and even
Del Rio, Texas. The family lost over half their riders after the first
cold snap. They all said their tearful goodbyes and see you next May when
the weather's warmer.
Mutt was never happier than riding with Harley. He knew he'd fallen in
love with the handsome biker but no more so than when he first met Harley.
He wasn't foolish enough to think Harley was going to consider anything
more than being good buddies with Mutt. It didn't matter to Mutt. He was
getting what he needed from Harley and the rest of the family. He was
loved, admired for his abilities and appreciated for his willingness to
help anyone in need. For once he felt like he could offer to help someone
and not have them wonder what his motives were.
Around the middle of October Janice showed up again riding with her gay
brother. It was an obvious ploy to get back together with Harley and it
worked. Janice was moved into Harley's tent and began to ride with him
again. Surprisingly, Mutt wasn't devastated. He had a couple of tearful
nights in his big bubba Waddie's arms but he recovered quickly. That's one
of the fringe benefits of having your big brother ride with you. You can
cry on his shoulder and no one will ever know. He good friend Big Beryl
was a constant source of comfort for Mutt as well. He loved Cowboy and Big
Red and they understood his feelings. Mutt's attitude was, he knew it was
too good to last for long but he sure as hell enjoyed Mr. Harley while he
had him.
Harley felt like shit abandoning Mutt for Janice but it was at Mutt's
insistence he and Janice got back together. He wanted to keep seeing Mutt
on the side for companionship and even sex but it was too much like a three
way for Mutt. He politely told Harley it was different when he was apart
from Janice and riding solo but now they were back together he liked and
cared to much for Janice to do that behind her back. He wasn't trying to
force Harley's hand he just didn't care to hurt Janice. He explained the
cowboy code to Harley and so did Waddie, Cowboy, Red, and Beryl. Harley
wasn't real happy about it but he had to admire Mutt even more for his
strong stance.
Harley didn't want to admit he got something from Mutt, as ugly as he
was, that he couldn't get from Janice or any woman for that matter. Harley
was neither insensitive nor unaware of the strength of male bonding. He
never experienced such strong feelings with any man as he did with Mutt.
As easy as love and companionship flowed between them, Harley was becoming
uneasy at his enjoyment and comfort in their relationship. It was almost
too easy and he seriously began to question his sexuality and masculinity.
In a way the comfort and easiness became threats to him so when Janice came
back around it was his easy out,---back to his old ways of riding as a
straight man.
Throughout the three months Harley rode with Mutt, Mutt never got the
feeling Harley was projecting anymore towards him emotionally than a good
buddy who would allow Mutt to take care of his sexual needs from time to
time. He wouldn't let Mutt call him Master Harley. He didn't want anyone
thinking they passed over that threshold and he jumped the fence for a
relationship with Mutt. However, while they rode together and bunked it in
together, Mutt treated Harley like his personal God. Indeed, to everyone
else, Mutt was Harley's slave if not in name. Harley and Mutt both took
some pretty strong razzing from the other bikers but they were easy going
and never even thought to talk about it between themselves.
After a week or two Harley talked to Beryl ,Waddie, Red and Cowboy. He
decided for Mutt's sake it might be easier if he and Janice took off to
ride with another group for a while. They said their goodbyes and promised
to return to the group later. Mutt shook Harley's hand and wished him
well. Harley pulled him into an embrace. He didn't say anything but held
the young man for a long moment. Mutt didn't say anything either but
turned and left to join his immediate family group. About eight of the
bikers left the group. Among them Booger Red, Cowboy, Beryl, Waddie, Bull
and Charlie. Bart decided he and Zane would ride with Big Beryl and Waddie
where ever they were going. Big Jim, Master Jeb, Master Earl and Wes left
a the second week in September to return to the Southern California area.
They left and linked up with Beryl's family group, the Clan Mc Innins.
The family hadn't had their leader ride with them in months and it was a
time for celebration. It was a week before Halloween and there was a
festive party atmosphere in the air. The family was invited to Las Vegas
to be Ben's guest for a Halloween party. During the winter months the
family dwindled down to about thirty men. Ben would put them all up for a
week or more and pick up the tab for rooms, and food. They were riding in
a group and traveling pretty fast; however, even though they were doing
well over the speed limit there's always some asshole who wants to get
around. Most of the time the lead riders will slow the group and the rear
riders will wave the drives behind them around when safe.
Some son of a bitch in a Corvette decided he wasn't going to wait and
started around the family. He misjudged the speed of the oncoming traffic
and rather than go for the left shoulder knew he had a better chance of
saving himself by turning into the line of bikers. The bikers just ahead
escaped the collision and the bikers just behind the pair he turned into
saw what he was planning. Booger Red was riding beside Cowboy and threw
his hand up for all behind to slow or scatter. Waddie was on the inside
and Mutt was by his side on the outside. Mutt headed for the ditch and
Waddie was right behind him. The two to suffer being run off the road was
Bart and Zane. Bart was riding on the inside with Zane by his side.
When you've been riding in a group of bikers for some time your reflexes
become split second and Zane could see out of the corner of his eye the
blue Corvette headed for his mate. He didn't have time to yell a warning
but reacted as any good biker would by trying to make room for his partner.
The driver of the Corvette panicked and more than nudged Bart over. He hit
him at such a speed as to send him, bike and all twelve feet into the air,
launching him over the heads of the other bikers. Zane lost control of his
bike and it skidded out from under him leaving him rolling into the ditch
landing on top of Red and Cowboy.
The blue Corvette rolled and up-righted itself. It had a roll bar that
protected the driver who had enough presence of mind to use his seat belt.
His passenger didn't fair so well and went flying through the air as well
landing not far from Bart. When the smoke cleared and everyone stopped to
see if any assistance might be given, Bart wasn't moving. Neither was the
passenger thrown from the Corvette. The driver sustained only minor cuts
and bruises. Zane broke his right leg, his left ankle, four ribs and his
left shoulder. He suffered multiple cuts on his upper body and one deep
cut across his right leg. For all his hurts he tried to drag and pull
himself to his Master and wouldn't stop until Cowboy and Red helped him.
Bart was barely breathing but came to as Zane cradled him in his arms.
"Master, Master, I'm here. You're gonna' be all right. Hang on, Bart.
I can't lose you. I couldn't go on without you." Zane cried to his Master.
Bart pulled him close and whispered to his slave.
"I ain't gonna' make it, Sweetheart. You gotta' go on without me but
there's a man who loves you and will take care of you. He'll be a fine
Master for you. You know who I'm talking about."
"Oh, Master, I don't want any Master but you. Please don't leave me."
Zane cried. Bart said no more as his life force left his body and he was
gone.
The family was almost to the city limits of Vegas when the accident
occurred. Ambulances appeared and took the injured to the hospital.
Waddie and Mutt were bruised with minor abrasions. Booger Red and Cowboy
were sore but okay. A couple of the other bikers behind them had a couple
of broken bones and come contusions but no one was critical.
Four bikers were admitted to the hospital and the driver of the Blue
Corvette. He was later arrested for reckless driving and was charged with
manslaughter, reckless endangerment. He was sentenced to three years but
since it was a first time offense, he hadn't been drinking and had no
previous record, they let him off with probation.
It all happened Halloween eve but there were few in the family who felt
like partying. Ben was gracious to a fault. He picked up all medical
bills for anyone who didn't have insurance to pay. Zane had insurance but
Ben made sure he had the best of care and called in his own team of
physicians to help. Zane was laid up for several months but was only in
the hospital for several days. Ben got him a room at the hotel with round
the clock nursing care. He wasn't confined to a bed. He was up and around
with crutches.
They stored the men's bikes who were injured at Cal and Steve's ranch.
Three left to be taken care of by relatives and it was suggested Zane go
home with Big Jim and Master Jeb so they could take care of him. During
the week or so he was at the hotel he had a lot of visitors from a number
of biker families. There were flowers everywhere. Ben and Harry did
everything they could for Zane and were wonderful to him; however, it was
all a blur to Zane. He was in a daze. He was in quite a bit of physical
pain and taking some strong medication. He was in the depths of depression
and it seemed no one could console him.
Beryl came the closest and stayed close to his little friend in his time
of need. He was the one who came up with the idea of taking Zane back to
Los Angeles to be cared for by Jim and Jeb. Zane loved both men and
thought that would be a great idea.
Cowboy and Red moved on with another group of riders after a good visit
with Ben. Ben sent for Dan Yates to come and visit Zane to cheer him up.
Zane had come to look upon Dan as a dad and cried his heart out in Dan's
arms. He finally let the damn break of his pent up emotions and allowed
the healing waters of his tears to come forth. Dan held him tight and
comforted him. He knew what loss was all about. Dan offered to have Zane
come back to the ranch with him and he and Mrs. Russell would take care of
him. After all, he didn't need nursing care, he just needed to heal.
Zane jumped at the chance to stay with Dan and after a couple of days
visit he and Dan left in Dan's motor coach to Tucson. Dan and Mrs.
Russell took Zane in as another son and Zane stayed with them almost eight
months. He completely healed physically but was still in the woods as far
as his loss was concerned. He and Dan made another trip to Vegas to pickup
Zane's bike. Ben had it fixed for him and it was perfect. Zane was
overwhelmed by Ben's thoughtfulness and generosity.
Zane and Dan took Zane's bike to the ranch. They put it in the barn,
covered it with a tarp and it didn't come out for another four months. The
ranch, Dan, and Mrs. Russell were good for Zane. He had many visits from
the Mc Innins family including Mutt, Waddie, Harley, Ben and Big Beryl. As
he got better he helped and worked for Dan around the ranch to earn his
keep. Zane had money of his own. His Master left him everything and Bart
had considerable. Zane offered to pay Dan for food and lodging but he
wouldn't hear of it. So, when he got better, Zane began to make himself
useful to Dan around the ranch.
Zane healed quickly physically and with Dan and Mrs. Russell's help he
healed emotionally. Bart hadn't made arrangements for his slave in the
event of his death. Bart was such a young man he didn't allow himself to
think about the possibility. Therefore, Zane became a slave of his family,
the clan Mc Innis. Zane understood this but also knew his family wasn't
going to push. They were sensitive, caring men who loved Bart almost as
much as he did. Bart was a great lost to many of the Mc Innis family and
to the leader, Big Beryl, he was like another son. The family allowed Zane
six months before Beryl sat him down and had a talk with him.
Most all of two families, the clan Mc Innis and the Tallismen were at
Dan's for spring roundup that year and Zane had been working his butt off
to help Dan and Mrs. Russell prepare. He was working from sunup to
sundown and then some to help around the place. Nothing makes you get over
sorrow and loss quicker than good hard work and doing your best to help
someone else. Dan fell in love with Zane and his goodness. He still had
his heart set on being with Cowboy and nothing major ever transpired
between the two of them but they became a comfort to each other. Beryl got
Zane off to one side during the roundup to talk to him.
"How ya' doing, Son?" Beryl asked in a concerned, quiet voice.
"Better, Master Beryl. It's been hard but then I've been so fortunate
to have Master Dan and Mrs. Russell to help me. They've been like saints.
I try not to burden them with endless whining but they know when I'm at my
lowest and they reach out to me. I look upon Mr. Yates like he's my own
dad. After I finally got over the idea I couldn't have sex with another
person I gave myself to him one evening and he's been gracious enough to
give me some love from time to time. His love, more than anything has
helped me heal. He's shown me I can give and receive love from someone
else without feeling like I'm betraying the memory of my Master. I know
how devoted and how much in love with Cowboy he is yet he has enough love
in him to share with me to get me on my feet again. There's no place for
me here on a long term basis but I thank God Master Dan took me in. I owe
him and Mrs. Russell my life. Sometimes, in the past, I hurt so bad I was
sure I was gonna' die."
"S'been my experience you never completely get over the hurt and pain.
You just learn to live with it until one day you realize it's always there
but you make it a part of you. You make it a part of your life experience
and surprisingly, you find, it makes you a bigger person. You'll always
have your Master walking by your side, Son. He's there anytime you want to
talk to him. He'll hear you. Lean on the living, like you've done with
Dan, Mrs. Russell, and the rest of the family but you've got to consider
taking on another Master. I want you to talk with Jeb or Jim. Since they
handle all the slaves in the family it's time you considered becoming a
slave to another good Master. You're too good a slave and still have a lot
of love in you to give to a good man."
Zane cried in Big Beryl's arms. He had grown close to the big man and
worshiped him. All the family treated him with such love and care he
couldn't imagine having gone through something like losing his Master
without their love. Zane, of course, told Beryl he knew the time was near.
The family had been good enough to give him six months to recover and while
he was still unsure of himself he understood he would have to take a new
Master. He talked to both Master Jeb and Big Jim.
"Have you even considered who you might like to become a slave to in our
three families?" Jeb asked him.
"Not really, Sir. Other than Master Dan, there's only one man I'd love
to serve and be his slave but he doesn't even know I'm alive." Jeb smiled
at Zane and then looked at Jim who smiled back at him.
"You wouldn't be talking about the big cowboy who ropes with you every
time he comes here to the ranch?"
"Yes, Sir, It'ud be Master Waddie. He's good and kind to me. He ropes
with me and always makes me feel really great when we make a good run but,
beyond that, he won't never talk to me. I try and he stammers and seems to
get frustrated because he can't talk to me. He just turns and walks away.
He breaks my heart sometimes because I want him to like me. I guess
because I don't have a dick between my legs he sees me as a freak." Zane
looked down at his boots and shuffled them in the dirt.
"Have you approached any other of the single Masters to take you on as
their slave?"
"Yes, Master Jeb. I've asked fifteen or twenty if they might be
interested in me being their slave but after they find out about my
plumbing, they shy away and seem to loose interest. I assumed that must be
Master Waddie's problem, too." Zane was really sad. Jeb and Jim chuckled
and winked at each other.
"Well, we've decided to give you another thirty days to seek your own
Master to make a claim for you. If you haven't found one who will make a
claim for you in that month, then we'll have to put you on the market and
sell you. We would rather not do that but we have rules we must abide by.
We're flexible, as you know. A lot of times we require a slave to find
another Master within a couple of months of losing his Master but in your
case we made some exceptions. We felt it was as good for Dan, you being
here with him, as it was for you. Now, it's time to look to the future."
"I appreciate everything the family's done for me Master Jeb, Master
Jim. If I haven't found a Master in thirty days I will expect to be sold. I
understand, it's only right, after all, I agreed to it when my Master took
me for his slave."
"Have you asked Waddie if he would be your Master? I know how much he
loved your Master Bart. He and Bart were inseparable. I'm surprised you
didn't talk to him more with Bart."
"Naw, Sir. I've tried to talk to him about other things and he just
won't respond. He'd laugh and talk to my Master all day long but if I came
around he'd just shut up; but, my Master's final order to me was to go to
Master Waddie. He wanted Master Waddie to be my Master. He thought Waddie
would be a good Master for me but how can I when he won't even talk to me."
Jeb looked at Zane sympathetically.
"You'll never know, Son, unless you ask him, now, will you?" Jeb smiled
knowingly at Zane.
"Naw, Sir. I'll try, Master Jeb. Thanks, Master Jim. What the hell,
he can say but 'no' or just walk away again."
Zane tried during the roundup to find a Master. He put feelers out and
asked five or ten more men who weren't known to be Masters but were solo
riders if they were in the market for a good slave. By that time Zane's
sexual anomaly got all around the family groups and it seemed no one was
interested.
Zane rode the spring roundup at Dan's ranch with Mutt, Waddie, Beryl,
Bull, Charlie, and many of the other family members. Everyday he grew more
aware of what a good, hard working cowboy Waddie and his brother was. He
tried hard not to look at Waddie, but every now and then, he couldn't be
sure, he thought he saw Waddie watching him. He worked hard but make it a
point to stay out of Waddie and Mutt's way. It was becoming a noticeable
thing the other men were talking about behind the two of them's back. Mutt
listened to the chatter and laughter and had to admit he knew about the
problem. His brother was so taken with Zane he couldn't talk to him.
Waddie didn't want Zane to think he would try to take his Master's place.
He had to know Zane wanted him for a Master and not a substitute for Bart.
It came time for the Prescott fourth of July rodeo again and Dan was no
less enthused about entering with "his" boys. Mutt and Waddie were primed
and ready and so was Dan. This year would be a little different. Dan
decided he and Mutt would rope together and Waddie and Zane would rope
together. No one made any objections and Waddie and Mutt set in to
practice with their partners. The family gathered the week before the
rodeo to help and watch some good quality, professional roping. Almost
everyday there would be ten to fifteen pickups with horse trailers come to
the Broken Arrow ranch to rope with the men.
Waddie spent a lot of time roping with Zane. They didn't talk much and
it was about to drive Zane crazy until Cowboy's dad, Big Gunn, said
something to Zane. Zane fell in love with Big Gunn the first time he met
him and found it difficult to leave his side. He was warm, giving and
funny as any man could make a claim to be. Zane was able to expressed his
feelings to his big buddy.
"That's a fine looking Cowboy you been riding with and my monies on the
two of you winning the whole damn thing in Prescott."
"How 'bout you and your partner, Mr. Gunn?"
"Joe? Ah, hell, him and me are getting better the longer we lay off the
booze but we ain't there yet. Don't mean we won't enter and compete.
That's the only way you get better is by going up against the best. You
learn what your doing wrong by watching the pros and asking them questions.
You ask 'em real polite they'll tell you what chur' doing wrong. Now if my
boy was here roping with Dan, then you'd have some competition. As it is,
Waddie's brother roping with him may beat the pants of the two of you.
When their on, there's no team what can beat 'em. Dan, Mutt and Waddie
came to our small town rodeo last year and won every damn roping event."
"I wish I had more communication with Master Waddie. He tells me what
he wants me to do. I do it, we win and he's generous with his praise. He
acts like I did it by myself and all he did was help a little but beyond
that he don't say 'shit' to me." Zane was serious. Big Gunn laughed.
"Son out of all them men out there in that arena there's maybe two who
are genuine cowboys. Can you pick 'em out?"
"Yes, Sir, I think so. My partner, Master Waddie, and his brother
Mutt."
"You got it! Them two ole boys were born and raised cowboys. They're
quiet, unassuming and generous to a fault. They're a bit shy until they
get to know you and they won't push themselves off on nobody. I've seen
the way he looks at you when you don't know. You want my opinion I think
the big cowboy's in love with you and don't know how to tell you. Have you
ever confronted him about the way you feel? I see the way you look at him.
It's obvious to me you'd have no problem licking the cow flop off'n the
man's boots."
"No problem? I say 'grace' to the Almighty before I done it, Master
Gunn." Zane winked at Big Gunn and they laughed together.
Everyone traveled to the Prescott rodeo in Dan's motor coach and pickup.
The rest took their own trucks and horse trailers. Everyone was in a rodeo
mood again. It just so happened that the Hot Dawgs rode to the rodeo and
Spider and his four buddies were riding with them. Harley and Janice were
riding with them as well.
Everyone watched and after practice runs determined the teams to beat
were the two teams from the Broken Arrow ranch South of Tucson. It came
time for the first team to rope and that was Zane and Waddie. The two men
were in the arena adjusting their ropes and Zane was riding close to Waddie
for any last minute instructions.
"Let's do something a little different today, Pardner, " Waddie said to
Zane. Zane looked him in the eye and waited, "You got it all down pat.
Ain't much more I can teach chu.' You got your own style and it's damn good
but there's only one thing that's missing in your throw'n." Waddie looked
at Zane, smiled and continued to adjust his rope.
"What's 'at, Master?" Zane asked quietly.
"Love." Replied Waddie quietly. "Love and fun in doing what chur'
doing."
"S'a little hard, Master Waddie after,----"
"No, no! Has nothing to do with that. It has to do with your love for
the sport and the love you have for your partner who's giving his all to
make you look good; to see to it you win. Even when Bart was with us did I
ever fail to show you my love when we was roping together?" Zane was
stunned. This was more than Waddie said to him since Bart was killed but
the man was right. He always showed Zane the utmost love and respect when
they were roping together. Waddie went out of his way to make Zane the
hero. Zane didn't know what to say.
"Naw, Sir. It's the only time you show me your love but I appreciated
it every time."
"Okay then, throw everything out the window I told you and show me your
love today. Think you can do that, Son?" Zane thought for a moment, smiled
real big at Waddie and replied.
"Ooooh, yeah, Master Waddie. No problem." Waddie smiled back at his
response and winked at his partner.
Zane knew nothing more would be said. Waddie gave him his 'all-set'
with two fingers to the brim of his hat and Zane was ready. The barrier
dropped; Zane felt the love he had in his heart burst forth from the chute
as his partner all ready had the critter roped, dallied and was turning
after no more than two large leaps. Zane threw his rope with the biggest
smile on his face, caught the steer, dallied his rope, his pony backed up
and was set. The crowd in the stands were on their feet; they knew it was
going to be the catch to beat. The two cowboys looked across at each
other, the crowd and their personal friends swore there was a glow that
surrounded them. Zane took off his hat and sailed into the stands and his
partner followed suit.
They got their ropes undone and slowly rode over to the stands to pick
up their hats. The audience was still cheering and gladly handed the men
their hats. The announcer then gave the time for their run and it was a
new arena record for the Prescott rodeo. The crowd was on their feet again
and Waddie and Zane rode together around the arena tipping their hats to
the crowd.
"Did I show you enough love that time, Master Waddie?" Zane asked his
partner.
"I'll say you did, Son. Hope I did for you, too."
"You know,---I really do love you, Master Waddie. I have for a long
time."
"Why do you think I can't talk to you about nothing cept rope'n?"
"You love me that much, Master Waddie?"
"Yes, Son, I do. I can't talk to you 'cause my old dick hurts so much
every time I'm around you."
"If'n you feel that way, would you consider being my Master, Sir?"
"Hey, hey! Hold on there a second, Cowboy. I wouldn't never buy a pair
of boots less'n I tried 'em on first."
"I'd be honored and proud for you to try this slave on, Master Waddie.
In fact you'd make me about the happiest cowboy at this rodeo." They rode
toward the exit with the crowd still applauding.
"Can you imagine what them folks would think if'n they could hear our
conversation right now?" Waddie chuckled as he asked his winning partner.
Zane pushed his hat back on his head and laughed. Waddie put his big arm
around his little buddy and the two cowboys rode out of the arena together
to more cheers.
The rodeo continued but no one came close to Waddie and Zane's toss.
They won first place; Dan and Mutt won second. For the second time in two
years the cowboys from the Broken Arrow ranch took all the prize money for
team roping. Dan was thrilled and pleased. It gave the ranch a certain
respectability that make him feel like a king. It ultimately brought him
some of the best hands in the Southwest. Good cowboys were hard to find
and wanted to be a part of an outfit that was recognized as being a working
ranch; one they could be proud to ride for. In effect, a family they could
become a part of.
That evening everyone knew there was something different going on. Only
a hand full of the men knew some kind of break through between Waddie and
Zane had taken place. Zane was by Waddie's side all evening. Mutt knew
without a doubt what happened, so did Beryl, Dan, Jeb and Big Jim. Harley
was no dummy either. They weren't talking much but they still had a
noticeable glow about them. Waddie didn't take his arm from around Zane
all evening and Zane sat as near his hero as he could. Dan Yates leaned
over to Waddie.
"You want to use the back bedroom of the coach tonight, Son, so's you
two won't be bothered if we come in later?"
"That would be mighty nice of you, Boss. Don't want to take your bed
away from you but this is kind of an important evening for us."
"You both deserve it, Cowboy, you won the rodeo. Now, we're all hope'n
you're gonna' win another one tonight."
"Don't think ya'll have to worry to much about that, Dan. We sure
appreciate your generosity."
Waddie and Zane left earlier than the rest amid whistles and cat calls.
The entire bar stood up and applauded for them as the winning team at the
rodeo that day. It was like a dream walking back to the rodeo grounds in
the warm summer night. Zane didn't say anything. He wanted Waddie to take
the lead. He wasn't disappointed.
"Dan told us to take the back bedroom in his coach."
"He's a good man, Master Waddie, I love him a lot."
"So do I, Son, so do I."
They got back to the motor coach and let themselves in. They went to
the back bedroom and Waddie allowed Zane to be his slave for the evening.
Zane took his time and obviously enjoyed undressing his Master for the
evening. He didn't hesitate to pay homage to Waddie's dusty, dirty boots
and cleaned them well. Waddie watched Zane undress and had to catch his
breath when the young man turned to him. He was perfect in every respect.
Waddie pulled Zane to him and kissed him. His dick got roaring hard and
Zane laughed at him.
"You weren't lying to me," he laughed, "give me a minute to clean myself
and I'll try to satisfy you, Master."
Waddie smiled but didn't didn't comment. He lay there having another
drink Zane fixed him and watching the local evening news on the TV. He
watched Zane and himself make their prize winning catch earlier in the day.
Waddie mused to himself and wondered if Zane was the other love God sent
him to spend the rest of his life with. It didn't take him to long to
figure out Zane was indeed that person. Waddie had a hard time because it
was as a result of Bart's death but he loved Bart with all his heart and
never coveted his partner. If anything he ran the other way.
The cowboys made love that night and Zane made sure every opening on his
body fit the big cowboy so he could make his decision as to whether he
would make a claim for him. Fortunately, for Zane, every part of his body
fit the cowboy like a comfortable pair of boots.
They made love all that night and slept with Waddie way up inside his
partner. The next day, it was never discussed between them, they just
knew. So did everyone else. There was much laughter and kidding at the
breakfast table the next morning. Waddie and his new slave didn't care,
they were very much in love. Waddie made a claim for his new slave through
Master Jeb and Big Jim that day. After that night in Prescott the two men
never spent a night apart in thirty years. They always had something to
talk about and Zane made sure Waddie never crawled back to the bottom of
his closet again.
End Chapter 6 ~ Harley & Mutt 2003 ~ All rights reserved
Waddie Greywolf Mail to: waddiebear
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CHAPTER 6
"The more things a man has to be ashamed of the more respectable he is."
G.B. Shaw
Mutt's real reason for leaving Tucson was to find Harley and Janice. He
certainly didn't have any intentions of becoming a part of their immediate,
extended family. Immediate, extended family, he mused to himself. He had
to think about that for a minute. Then he laughed to himself and thought,
Every man should create at least one oxymoron in his life. Maybe that's
why the old man created me. Damn it, for some reason I need them right
now.
There's times in a man's life when he's more comfortable being around
someone who seems to vibrate on his same frequency. Harley made Mutt feel
comfortable. It wasn't anything he did overtly. It was just a feeling
that passed between the two men. Harley felt it but didn't have a clue.
He didn't want to have a clue but he too understood there was something
special about his cowboy buddy. While he enjoyed the blow job Mutt gave
him on that cold, dark and stormy night he didn't think much about it and
his feelings for Mutt weren't sexual. Surprisingly, Mutt felt the same.
He simply accepted Harley as a straight man and wasn't about to push;
especially, since he was Janice's mate. Mutt had the cowboy code drilled
into him over the years and he was as strong in his beliefs as his brother
was in his.
Shuck all the words like love, buddies, extended family, friendship or
even companionship. The feeling every man gets about someone, at least
once in his life, he never quite comes to grips with why he felt the way he
did but yet he knows, for some damn reason, he's drawn to them. They just
seem to fit in your life like a pair of old, well worn boots. When you put
them on you know your going to be comfortable. It's an easy feeling. It
can be good or it can be bad. It can be the portal to a door into a black
pit.
Others, with not so good intentions can mimic that comfort like an
insectivorous plant imitates a good plant to catch it's unsuspecting
victims. So it is with people. That trust or comfort can be the doorway
to the depths of destructive addiction in which a human being, for what
ever reason, can find themselves, lost, having their souls sucked from
their person. While seeking reassurance and acceptance they find
themselves becoming unwitting and unwilling slaves, to a darker side of
humanity. They give and give thinking this is the real thing, until, not
unlike the poor captured insect, discovers it's too late. They may protest
but the more they struggle the more they lose their will, their strength of
purpose and ultimately accept their fate.
All men are vulnerable to human meat machines who have no conscience
about sucking a man's soul dry and then leave him without compassion to
either perish, lift himself from the pit, or simply accept defeat and
become a meat machine himself.
Harley's not a meat machine. He has a well developed, if not organized,
soul. Somehow, maybe because of his upbringing, Mutt was able to pick up
on that. Harley has a bright light of compassion and goodness within him
he's neither fully developed nor found a purpose for other than to be a
good man. Among the biker families, Harley Boone is perhaps one of a
handful of men who could be considered a truly handsome man. He is quite
possibly every man and woman's ideal of what a macho, ruggedly handsome man
should look like.
He bills himself as a straight man but inside Harley has conflicts.
Sometimes he can't help himself if a good looking young man wants to suck
his dick or give him some boy butt. Harley never compromises. There are
no gray areas in Harley's mind. He's the fuckor and only gets sucked.
That doesn't mean he never tried it when he was younger or still wonders
once in a while what it might be like with a good buddy he could really
trust. He decided for himself he wanted to be straight and he wasn't
crossing that line.
Harley's rationalization for fucking a man was simple. He only does it
from time to time when he can't find a cunt to fuck or he becomes bored
with the one he's with. Once in a while he likes to throw a good, hard
fuck into a man's ass because he hasn't met a woman who can take a good
hard fucking for very long. The way Harley understands sex, even without
love, has to do with his need to be a good man.
Harley tries hard to be a good man. He's understanding and
compassionate. He'd gentle, considerate, and not rough with women. On the
other hand, he understands he's simply being compassionate, understanding
and certainly considerate to give a hot young man a good hard ass ride he's
so desperately begging Harley for. He has never confronted the reality of
why he always feels so much more physically and emotionally released after
a good hard ride with a man than ten times with a woman. He, does,
however, accept the fact a good blow job or some boy butt is something he
has to have now and then and has no intention of giving up.
Harley's almost the perfect lover for any woman. He's funny, charming,
listens to them and makes them his friend as well. Most straight men don't
know how to make friends with a woman. Women become sexual objects for men
to conquer, pollinate, then move on to the next blossom. That's why so
many women fall in love with gay men. Gay men know how to befriend women.
Even though rumors eventually got back to all his ladies Harley went
with a man from time to time he was so genuinely convincing and sincere a
straight lover none of them believed them. He was only confronted once by
one of them but it wasn't Janice. He smiled, laughed and told her the
truth. He told her he hoped she wasn't embarrassed by it because if she
rode with him it would happen once in a while but he would never do it to
consciously hurt her. He would try to be more discrete. None of them left
him because of it.
They only thing that would signal the end of a relationship was when the
old lady began to get the nesting urge and want Harley to sell his bike,
become a nine to fiver and come home every night to five screaming rug
rats. The horror it produced of being confined to any woman, doing the same
damn thing, day in and day out, year after year, was far worse to Harley's
mind than prison. He was free on the road. Harley saw the rest of the
world as a set of traps and snares for him ride through. Since Nam he'd
managed to escape every one
Janice rode with him the longest. She was a mousey little blonde haired
woman around twenty-three. She wasn't the typical fast living, thrill
seeking, hard drinking, mouthy, brassy broad that most of the men rode on
their bikes. Why she became a biker follower she never knew. She rode
with a couple of other bikers before she and Harley got together. She was
alone riding with her gay brother when they met.
Janice was far from pretty and many of the biker broads would make
passes at Harley, openly proposition him, in front of Janice, but Harley
was faithful to her when they were riding together. The other biker
'mamas' referred to Janice rather unkindly as 'Mouse.' Harley wasn't a
womanizer. He genuinely liked Janice. She worked hard to meet his needs
and not bug him too much. Most times, he was comfortable with her. They
had an off and on relationship for several years.
Harley told her from the first how he lived his life and the rules if
she wanted to ride with him and be his old lady. Ever since he returned
from Nam he hadn't been able to sit still for long. The idea of
confinement was an anathema to him. He got uptight and paced a lot when he
and Janice would stay in a motel room. He preferred being out in the open
in a tent away from cities and towns. He would warn her twice about
talking to him about settling down and getting married and then the third
time she would find herself standing alone with a bus ticket in her hand to
anywhere she wanted to go.
It happened to them four or five times and each time Harley would have a
new old lady on the back of his bike within days. If he and Janice ran
into each other he was polite but wouldn't engage in heavy conversation
with her; most times, he was with another woman. Then something would
happen, they would be alone at the same time again and start riding
together.
Mutt found the Hot Dawgs and was welcomed by everyone. Rondo and Banger
were glad to see him again and told everyone of his winning at the Prescott
rodeo. Beryl had come back to ride with the Hot Dawgs for a while and told
them all about him and Waddie winning. They knew what Spider did to Mutt
before and they were all proud of him for his accomplishment. They also
heard Spider was there, at the Prescott rodeo and watched as Mutt and his
brother walked away with the prize money.
Beryl related to Harley what the boy had gone through since he left
everyone in Phoenix. Harley came over to Mutt with a big smile on his face
hugged and kissed him on the cheek.
"Damn, it's good to see you again, Son. Congratulations on winning in
Prescott. News travels fast in this crowd."
"Thanks, Mr. Harley, it's good to see you again, too. Sorry I ran out
on everyone in Phoenix. Didn't mean no disrespect, Mr. Harley. I jus'
had to go."
"We're buddies ain't we, Son."
"You bet, Mr. Harley."
"Don't never need to apologize to your buddy for som'thin' like that.
Ain't a biker here who ain't had that feeling come over him one time or
another. You gotta' go, ya' gotta go! S'all there is to it, Son."
"Thanks, Mr. Harley. Where's Ms. Janice?" Mutt realized maybe he
shouldn't have asked. He just arrived and didn't have time to catch up on
things. Then he quickly added, "Oh, I'm sorry, Mr. Harley. I didn't
think, s'none of my business anyway, Sir, I'm sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for, Bro. You couldn't have known. I took Janice
home to her folks. She wouldn't stop talking about settling down and
raising kids. I warned her and told her the third time she goes. Well,
they all have to push to see if'n you really mean it. She pushed and found
out I did mean it. I wasn't mean to her I just took her home where she can
find a nice young man, settle down and have her litter."
"I'm sorry to hear that, Mr. Harley. I liked Ms. Janice. She was
good to me."
"Yeah, she was and that's part of why I liked her. She was good hearted
and saw goodness in you. I ain't saying I might not see her again or
wouldn't consider having her ride with me again but I don't wanna' settle
down with no woman. Certainly not right now. I'm twenty-eight years old
and I ain't even gonna' think about settling down 'til I'm thirty-five or
so. Plenty of time to find some woman to settle down with. Hell, who
knows? By that time I may have the road too much in my blood and not want
to settle down a' tall. So, Cowboy, feel like ride'n by your buddy's side
for a while?"
"Sure would, Mr. Harley. That would be great."
"C'mon, then, throw your gear in my tent." Harley smiled and Mutt looked
at him kinda funny. "You heard me, Son, throw your gear in my tent." Then
a big smile came across Mutt's face.
"Yes, Sir, Mr. Harley!" Mutt did as he was told and had a wonderful
afternoon talking to folks and learning what was new with whom. Spider was
not riding with the Hot Dawgs. He and his four cronies were riding with
another group at the time.
Beryl and Big Jim were glad to see Mutt again and hugged him.
"Got a place to stow your stuff, Son?" asked Beryl with a wry smile. He
new Harley was going to ask Mutt to stay with him.
"Uhhh, yes, Sir, Master Beryl. Mr. Harley, he asked me to throw my
gear in his tent. Is that okay?"
"Of course it's okay, Son. Just ask'n in case you didn't have no buddy
to bunk it in with this evening." Beryl smiled and winked at him and then
Mutt realized Beryl was having a bit of fun with him. Mutt knew Beryl knew
how much he though of Harley. As it turned out Beryl and Big Jim had their
tents not far from Harleys.
Early in the evening Waddie, Beryl, Mutt and Harley all went to the
campground showers to clean up. They returned, rode into the small town
near their campground and got take out to take back to camp. They spent
the evening together and had a great time. Finally, everyone in camp was
going to bed early because the family was going to be up and on the road
shortly after sun up. They meant it, too. If the leaders called for an
early morning departure and you weren't ready to ride when the major part
of the family was, you were left behind.
Harley climbed in his tent shucked off his clothes and got into his bed
roll. Mutt took his boots off but didn't remove his clothes. He started
to get into his bed roll.
"Mutt, w'duya do'n?"
"Get'n in my bedroll, Mr. Harley."
"Take your clothes off, Son. That's an order!" Harley said gently.
Mutt knew his buddy well enough not to argue with him. He wouldn't anyway.
If one could worship at the feet of another man, Mutt would build a sacred
shrine at Harley's boots: Our Lady of the Wescos.
"Yes, Sir, Mr. Harley." Mutt shucked off his clothes and quickly got
into his bedroll. It was still summer and it was warm. It was really too
warm for a full bedroll so Harley opened his to the waist. After a while
he didn't have to ask Mutt to relax and get comfortable. Mutt was
suffering in the heat. He pushed his down automatically and then turned
away from Harley.
"Mutt?" Harley rolled on his side and spooned Mutt. Mutt could feel
Harley's dick hard as a rock poking him in his rear. Harley drew Mutt up
to himself. Mutt couldn't help himself, he melted into his handsome
friend's arms.
"Yes, Sir, Mr. Harley?"
"Do you remember that wonderful blow job you gave me that horrible night
we didn't know whether we were going to make it or not?" Harley quietly
asked Mutt. There was a long pause before Mutt answered. Harley wasn't
going to press the issue.
"Ain't thought of much else since, Mr. Harley." Mutt finally admitted
in a shy whisper like it was a sacred secret, the worst of sins, he was
whispering to a priest in confession. Harley held him and waited almost an
equally long time before his next question.
"If it was that good for us under those circumstances, how do you think
it would be here and now where we're warm, clean and comfortable?" Harley
let the idea lay in an effort to make it as much Mutt's thought as his.
Again there was a long silence. Mutt had to think of the right words to
say. Harley knew and secretly smiled to himself.
"For me it'ud be a taste of heaven, Mr. Harley and I'd do my dead level
best to get you as close to them pearly gates as I possibly could." Mutt
softly replied. Harley chuckled at his enthusiasm.
"Should I say a prayer and let St. Peter know we're on our way?" Harley
gently laughed waiting for a reply he wasn't ready for.
"Naw, Sir. Take too long. He'll see us a' come'n." Mutt giggled and
Harley fell out laughing. He laughed so hard he got Beryl and Waddie
laughing.
"He'ah!! Settle down over there!" Beryl barked and started half the
camp laughting.
Harley gently kissed Mutt behind the ear and told him he'd settle for
waving distance to St. Peter. Mutt laughed until he had his buddy's cock
all the way down his throat. Harley swore afterwards he was sure he waved
to St. Peter and thought he once saw the Old Man as well. Harley tried
not to be too vocal when he shot his load in Mutt's hungry mouth but for
all his might he couldn't help let out a deep throated moan that emanated
from the bottom of his soul only to hear his buddy answer in kind as he
sucked and swallowed his friend's come.
They lay there together enjoying the afterglow of their love making.
Mutt gently cleaning Harley then taking his towel to gently dry him. Then
the applause and laughter started and went all around the camp. Harley and
Mutt laughed, too. Harley pulled Mutt up to him and for once kissed him
gently on the mouth. Mutt didn't push but let his friend take all he
needed. Mutt rolled on his side and Harley threw his arm around him again.
"What about my buddy?"
"I all ready come, Mr. Harley, in my towel." Mutt wasn't lying. He was
so engrossed in his performance he shot in his towel he placed under him
for just such an emergency.
"Well, I'll be damned. To hell with the camp, Mutt, I appreciated it
and enjoyed the hell out of it." He gently kissed Mutt on his neck," You
couldn't a' gotten me much closer to them gates if you'd a' used a wheel
barrow and dumped my ass out in front of him."
"Next time, Mr. Harley." Mutt giggled and set Harley to laughing again.
The next morning at breakfast and coffee around the campfire there were
many grins and Waddie kept poking Mutt and giggling like a little brother
who was kidding his older brother for having a school crush. There came a
lull in the conversation. Big Beryl took a deep breath.
"Fuck! Thought a couple of times I's gonna' hav'ta take my wide belt
out a' my pants,---come over there and quiet you two down. If'n I hadn't
a' been distracted by a hot buckaroo's tongue finding my little green snake
I'd a probably done it, too." They all laughed. Then, Harley, with no
shame, proceeded to tell them the story of whether to pray to St. Peter or
not. Beryl and Waddie were in tears they laughed so hard.
It was the end of summer. It was August and while it was still hot the
evenings were beautiful. Barton Tinker and Zane joined up with the Hot
Dawgs. A week later Booger Red and Cowboy joined up with the group. The
eight men became a group within a group. They were great friends with the
two leaders Rondo Cabasian and Banger Deets. They became a central core of
the family even though they were all independent riders. Everyone wanted
to share their campfire. There was always so many outrageous stories to
listen to and there seemed to be a peaceful sense of comradery that was
relaxing and good for all.
Waddie, Cowboy and Mutt roped in any small country rodeo they came
across and usually a lot of money changed hands. The family knew what
their cowboys could do and bet heavily on them. They always won. There
was a good hearted rivalry going between the men as to what team would take
the top money. Waddie and Mutt, or Waddie and Cowboy, or Mutt and Cowboy.
The three cowboys could've cared less what team won they were having too
good a time roping. It went a long way to helping with on the road
expenses. Cowboy didn't really need a lot of money at the time and Mutt
was still pretty flush from his Vegas and Reno winnings.
Several times they let Waddie take the whole prize for his bankroll.
They were brothers. They didn't care. Mutt shared a lot with his buddy
Harley but Harley paid his way. He was a proud man and wasn't about to get
the reputation of being a user. He was there every rodeo rooting for his
buddy to win and the first to console him when he didn't. It became a
magical time for Mutt and later even Harley had to admit it was a pretty
special time for him, too.
The end of summer came and the eight to twelve men were still riding
together. Sometimes they'd be joined by Bull and Charlie, Big Jim and
Master Jeb, Zack, Master Earl and Wes. Waddie and Mutt learned to love and
appreciate Wes as much as Cowboy and Big Red. Wes didn't say much but when
he did you wanted to listen because it was important.
The second week in September there came a chill in the air and there was
a large departure of the 'snow birds' in the family to seek warmer climes.
They were the older mom and pop bikers who would ride during the warmer
months but disappear to their trailers as far South as they could get for
the winter. Many lived outside of San Diego, El Paso, Harlingen and even
Del Rio, Texas. The family lost over half their riders after the first
cold snap. They all said their tearful goodbyes and see you next May when
the weather's warmer.
Mutt was never happier than riding with Harley. He knew he'd fallen in
love with the handsome biker but no more so than when he first met Harley.
He wasn't foolish enough to think Harley was going to consider anything
more than being good buddies with Mutt. It didn't matter to Mutt. He was
getting what he needed from Harley and the rest of the family. He was
loved, admired for his abilities and appreciated for his willingness to
help anyone in need. For once he felt like he could offer to help someone
and not have them wonder what his motives were.
Around the middle of October Janice showed up again riding with her gay
brother. It was an obvious ploy to get back together with Harley and it
worked. Janice was moved into Harley's tent and began to ride with him
again. Surprisingly, Mutt wasn't devastated. He had a couple of tearful
nights in his big bubba Waddie's arms but he recovered quickly. That's one
of the fringe benefits of having your big brother ride with you. You can
cry on his shoulder and no one will ever know. He good friend Big Beryl
was a constant source of comfort for Mutt as well. He loved Cowboy and Big
Red and they understood his feelings. Mutt's attitude was, he knew it was
too good to last for long but he sure as hell enjoyed Mr. Harley while he
had him.
Harley felt like shit abandoning Mutt for Janice but it was at Mutt's
insistence he and Janice got back together. He wanted to keep seeing Mutt
on the side for companionship and even sex but it was too much like a three
way for Mutt. He politely told Harley it was different when he was apart
from Janice and riding solo but now they were back together he liked and
cared to much for Janice to do that behind her back. He wasn't trying to
force Harley's hand he just didn't care to hurt Janice. He explained the
cowboy code to Harley and so did Waddie, Cowboy, Red, and Beryl. Harley
wasn't real happy about it but he had to admire Mutt even more for his
strong stance.
Harley didn't want to admit he got something from Mutt, as ugly as he
was, that he couldn't get from Janice or any woman for that matter. Harley
was neither insensitive nor unaware of the strength of male bonding. He
never experienced such strong feelings with any man as he did with Mutt.
As easy as love and companionship flowed between them, Harley was becoming
uneasy at his enjoyment and comfort in their relationship. It was almost
too easy and he seriously began to question his sexuality and masculinity.
In a way the comfort and easiness became threats to him so when Janice came
back around it was his easy out,---back to his old ways of riding as a
straight man.
Throughout the three months Harley rode with Mutt, Mutt never got the
feeling Harley was projecting anymore towards him emotionally than a good
buddy who would allow Mutt to take care of his sexual needs from time to
time. He wouldn't let Mutt call him Master Harley. He didn't want anyone
thinking they passed over that threshold and he jumped the fence for a
relationship with Mutt. However, while they rode together and bunked it in
together, Mutt treated Harley like his personal God. Indeed, to everyone
else, Mutt was Harley's slave if not in name. Harley and Mutt both took
some pretty strong razzing from the other bikers but they were easy going
and never even thought to talk about it between themselves.
After a week or two Harley talked to Beryl ,Waddie, Red and Cowboy. He
decided for Mutt's sake it might be easier if he and Janice took off to
ride with another group for a while. They said their goodbyes and promised
to return to the group later. Mutt shook Harley's hand and wished him
well. Harley pulled him into an embrace. He didn't say anything but held
the young man for a long moment. Mutt didn't say anything either but
turned and left to join his immediate family group. About eight of the
bikers left the group. Among them Booger Red, Cowboy, Beryl, Waddie, Bull
and Charlie. Bart decided he and Zane would ride with Big Beryl and Waddie
where ever they were going. Big Jim, Master Jeb, Master Earl and Wes left
a the second week in September to return to the Southern California area.
They left and linked up with Beryl's family group, the Clan Mc Innins.
The family hadn't had their leader ride with them in months and it was a
time for celebration. It was a week before Halloween and there was a
festive party atmosphere in the air. The family was invited to Las Vegas
to be Ben's guest for a Halloween party. During the winter months the
family dwindled down to about thirty men. Ben would put them all up for a
week or more and pick up the tab for rooms, and food. They were riding in
a group and traveling pretty fast; however, even though they were doing
well over the speed limit there's always some asshole who wants to get
around. Most of the time the lead riders will slow the group and the rear
riders will wave the drives behind them around when safe.
Some son of a bitch in a Corvette decided he wasn't going to wait and
started around the family. He misjudged the speed of the oncoming traffic
and rather than go for the left shoulder knew he had a better chance of
saving himself by turning into the line of bikers. The bikers just ahead
escaped the collision and the bikers just behind the pair he turned into
saw what he was planning. Booger Red was riding beside Cowboy and threw
his hand up for all behind to slow or scatter. Waddie was on the inside
and Mutt was by his side on the outside. Mutt headed for the ditch and
Waddie was right behind him. The two to suffer being run off the road was
Bart and Zane. Bart was riding on the inside with Zane by his side.
When you've been riding in a group of bikers for some time your reflexes
become split second and Zane could see out of the corner of his eye the
blue Corvette headed for his mate. He didn't have time to yell a warning
but reacted as any good biker would by trying to make room for his partner.
The driver of the Corvette panicked and more than nudged Bart over. He hit
him at such a speed as to send him, bike and all twelve feet into the air,
launching him over the heads of the other bikers. Zane lost control of his
bike and it skidded out from under him leaving him rolling into the ditch
landing on top of Red and Cowboy.
The blue Corvette rolled and up-righted itself. It had a roll bar that
protected the driver who had enough presence of mind to use his seat belt.
His passenger didn't fair so well and went flying through the air as well
landing not far from Bart. When the smoke cleared and everyone stopped to
see if any assistance might be given, Bart wasn't moving. Neither was the
passenger thrown from the Corvette. The driver sustained only minor cuts
and bruises. Zane broke his right leg, his left ankle, four ribs and his
left shoulder. He suffered multiple cuts on his upper body and one deep
cut across his right leg. For all his hurts he tried to drag and pull
himself to his Master and wouldn't stop until Cowboy and Red helped him.
Bart was barely breathing but came to as Zane cradled him in his arms.
"Master, Master, I'm here. You're gonna' be all right. Hang on, Bart.
I can't lose you. I couldn't go on without you." Zane cried to his Master.
Bart pulled him close and whispered to his slave.
"I ain't gonna' make it, Sweetheart. You gotta' go on without me but
there's a man who loves you and will take care of you. He'll be a fine
Master for you. You know who I'm talking about."
"Oh, Master, I don't want any Master but you. Please don't leave me."
Zane cried. Bart said no more as his life force left his body and he was
gone.
The family was almost to the city limits of Vegas when the accident
occurred. Ambulances appeared and took the injured to the hospital.
Waddie and Mutt were bruised with minor abrasions. Booger Red and Cowboy
were sore but okay. A couple of the other bikers behind them had a couple
of broken bones and come contusions but no one was critical.
Four bikers were admitted to the hospital and the driver of the Blue
Corvette. He was later arrested for reckless driving and was charged with
manslaughter, reckless endangerment. He was sentenced to three years but
since it was a first time offense, he hadn't been drinking and had no
previous record, they let him off with probation.
It all happened Halloween eve but there were few in the family who felt
like partying. Ben was gracious to a fault. He picked up all medical
bills for anyone who didn't have insurance to pay. Zane had insurance but
Ben made sure he had the best of care and called in his own team of
physicians to help. Zane was laid up for several months but was only in
the hospital for several days. Ben got him a room at the hotel with round
the clock nursing care. He wasn't confined to a bed. He was up and around
with crutches.
They stored the men's bikes who were injured at Cal and Steve's ranch.
Three left to be taken care of by relatives and it was suggested Zane go
home with Big Jim and Master Jeb so they could take care of him. During
the week or so he was at the hotel he had a lot of visitors from a number
of biker families. There were flowers everywhere. Ben and Harry did
everything they could for Zane and were wonderful to him; however, it was
all a blur to Zane. He was in a daze. He was in quite a bit of physical
pain and taking some strong medication. He was in the depths of depression
and it seemed no one could console him.
Beryl came the closest and stayed close to his little friend in his time
of need. He was the one who came up with the idea of taking Zane back to
Los Angeles to be cared for by Jim and Jeb. Zane loved both men and
thought that would be a great idea.
Cowboy and Red moved on with another group of riders after a good visit
with Ben. Ben sent for Dan Yates to come and visit Zane to cheer him up.
Zane had come to look upon Dan as a dad and cried his heart out in Dan's
arms. He finally let the damn break of his pent up emotions and allowed
the healing waters of his tears to come forth. Dan held him tight and
comforted him. He knew what loss was all about. Dan offered to have Zane
come back to the ranch with him and he and Mrs. Russell would take care of
him. After all, he didn't need nursing care, he just needed to heal.
Zane jumped at the chance to stay with Dan and after a couple of days
visit he and Dan left in Dan's motor coach to Tucson. Dan and Mrs.
Russell took Zane in as another son and Zane stayed with them almost eight
months. He completely healed physically but was still in the woods as far
as his loss was concerned. He and Dan made another trip to Vegas to pickup
Zane's bike. Ben had it fixed for him and it was perfect. Zane was
overwhelmed by Ben's thoughtfulness and generosity.
Zane and Dan took Zane's bike to the ranch. They put it in the barn,
covered it with a tarp and it didn't come out for another four months. The
ranch, Dan, and Mrs. Russell were good for Zane. He had many visits from
the Mc Innins family including Mutt, Waddie, Harley, Ben and Big Beryl. As
he got better he helped and worked for Dan around the ranch to earn his
keep. Zane had money of his own. His Master left him everything and Bart
had considerable. Zane offered to pay Dan for food and lodging but he
wouldn't hear of it. So, when he got better, Zane began to make himself
useful to Dan around the ranch.
Zane healed quickly physically and with Dan and Mrs. Russell's help he
healed emotionally. Bart hadn't made arrangements for his slave in the
event of his death. Bart was such a young man he didn't allow himself to
think about the possibility. Therefore, Zane became a slave of his family,
the clan Mc Innis. Zane understood this but also knew his family wasn't
going to push. They were sensitive, caring men who loved Bart almost as
much as he did. Bart was a great lost to many of the Mc Innis family and
to the leader, Big Beryl, he was like another son. The family allowed Zane
six months before Beryl sat him down and had a talk with him.
Most all of two families, the clan Mc Innis and the Tallismen were at
Dan's for spring roundup that year and Zane had been working his butt off
to help Dan and Mrs. Russell prepare. He was working from sunup to
sundown and then some to help around the place. Nothing makes you get over
sorrow and loss quicker than good hard work and doing your best to help
someone else. Dan fell in love with Zane and his goodness. He still had
his heart set on being with Cowboy and nothing major ever transpired
between the two of them but they became a comfort to each other. Beryl got
Zane off to one side during the roundup to talk to him.
"How ya' doing, Son?" Beryl asked in a concerned, quiet voice.
"Better, Master Beryl. It's been hard but then I've been so fortunate
to have Master Dan and Mrs. Russell to help me. They've been like saints.
I try not to burden them with endless whining but they know when I'm at my
lowest and they reach out to me. I look upon Mr. Yates like he's my own
dad. After I finally got over the idea I couldn't have sex with another
person I gave myself to him one evening and he's been gracious enough to
give me some love from time to time. His love, more than anything has
helped me heal. He's shown me I can give and receive love from someone
else without feeling like I'm betraying the memory of my Master. I know
how devoted and how much in love with Cowboy he is yet he has enough love
in him to share with me to get me on my feet again. There's no place for
me here on a long term basis but I thank God Master Dan took me in. I owe
him and Mrs. Russell my life. Sometimes, in the past, I hurt so bad I was
sure I was gonna' die."
"S'been my experience you never completely get over the hurt and pain.
You just learn to live with it until one day you realize it's always there
but you make it a part of you. You make it a part of your life experience
and surprisingly, you find, it makes you a bigger person. You'll always
have your Master walking by your side, Son. He's there anytime you want to
talk to him. He'll hear you. Lean on the living, like you've done with
Dan, Mrs. Russell, and the rest of the family but you've got to consider
taking on another Master. I want you to talk with Jeb or Jim. Since they
handle all the slaves in the family it's time you considered becoming a
slave to another good Master. You're too good a slave and still have a lot
of love in you to give to a good man."
Zane cried in Big Beryl's arms. He had grown close to the big man and
worshiped him. All the family treated him with such love and care he
couldn't imagine having gone through something like losing his Master
without their love. Zane, of course, told Beryl he knew the time was near.
The family had been good enough to give him six months to recover and while
he was still unsure of himself he understood he would have to take a new
Master. He talked to both Master Jeb and Big Jim.
"Have you even considered who you might like to become a slave to in our
three families?" Jeb asked him.
"Not really, Sir. Other than Master Dan, there's only one man I'd love
to serve and be his slave but he doesn't even know I'm alive." Jeb smiled
at Zane and then looked at Jim who smiled back at him.
"You wouldn't be talking about the big cowboy who ropes with you every
time he comes here to the ranch?"
"Yes, Sir, It'ud be Master Waddie. He's good and kind to me. He ropes
with me and always makes me feel really great when we make a good run but,
beyond that, he won't never talk to me. I try and he stammers and seems to
get frustrated because he can't talk to me. He just turns and walks away.
He breaks my heart sometimes because I want him to like me. I guess
because I don't have a dick between my legs he sees me as a freak." Zane
looked down at his boots and shuffled them in the dirt.
"Have you approached any other of the single Masters to take you on as
their slave?"
"Yes, Master Jeb. I've asked fifteen or twenty if they might be
interested in me being their slave but after they find out about my
plumbing, they shy away and seem to loose interest. I assumed that must be
Master Waddie's problem, too." Zane was really sad. Jeb and Jim chuckled
and winked at each other.
"Well, we've decided to give you another thirty days to seek your own
Master to make a claim for you. If you haven't found one who will make a
claim for you in that month, then we'll have to put you on the market and
sell you. We would rather not do that but we have rules we must abide by.
We're flexible, as you know. A lot of times we require a slave to find
another Master within a couple of months of losing his Master but in your
case we made some exceptions. We felt it was as good for Dan, you being
here with him, as it was for you. Now, it's time to look to the future."
"I appreciate everything the family's done for me Master Jeb, Master
Jim. If I haven't found a Master in thirty days I will expect to be sold. I
understand, it's only right, after all, I agreed to it when my Master took
me for his slave."
"Have you asked Waddie if he would be your Master? I know how much he
loved your Master Bart. He and Bart were inseparable. I'm surprised you
didn't talk to him more with Bart."
"Naw, Sir. I've tried to talk to him about other things and he just
won't respond. He'd laugh and talk to my Master all day long but if I came
around he'd just shut up; but, my Master's final order to me was to go to
Master Waddie. He wanted Master Waddie to be my Master. He thought Waddie
would be a good Master for me but how can I when he won't even talk to me."
Jeb looked at Zane sympathetically.
"You'll never know, Son, unless you ask him, now, will you?" Jeb smiled
knowingly at Zane.
"Naw, Sir. I'll try, Master Jeb. Thanks, Master Jim. What the hell,
he can say but 'no' or just walk away again."
Zane tried during the roundup to find a Master. He put feelers out and
asked five or ten more men who weren't known to be Masters but were solo
riders if they were in the market for a good slave. By that time Zane's
sexual anomaly got all around the family groups and it seemed no one was
interested.
Zane rode the spring roundup at Dan's ranch with Mutt, Waddie, Beryl,
Bull, Charlie, and many of the other family members. Everyday he grew more
aware of what a good, hard working cowboy Waddie and his brother was. He
tried hard not to look at Waddie, but every now and then, he couldn't be
sure, he thought he saw Waddie watching him. He worked hard but make it a
point to stay out of Waddie and Mutt's way. It was becoming a noticeable
thing the other men were talking about behind the two of them's back. Mutt
listened to the chatter and laughter and had to admit he knew about the
problem. His brother was so taken with Zane he couldn't talk to him.
Waddie didn't want Zane to think he would try to take his Master's place.
He had to know Zane wanted him for a Master and not a substitute for Bart.
It came time for the Prescott fourth of July rodeo again and Dan was no
less enthused about entering with "his" boys. Mutt and Waddie were primed
and ready and so was Dan. This year would be a little different. Dan
decided he and Mutt would rope together and Waddie and Zane would rope
together. No one made any objections and Waddie and Mutt set in to
practice with their partners. The family gathered the week before the
rodeo to help and watch some good quality, professional roping. Almost
everyday there would be ten to fifteen pickups with horse trailers come to
the Broken Arrow ranch to rope with the men.
Waddie spent a lot of time roping with Zane. They didn't talk much and
it was about to drive Zane crazy until Cowboy's dad, Big Gunn, said
something to Zane. Zane fell in love with Big Gunn the first time he met
him and found it difficult to leave his side. He was warm, giving and
funny as any man could make a claim to be. Zane was able to expressed his
feelings to his big buddy.
"That's a fine looking Cowboy you been riding with and my monies on the
two of you winning the whole damn thing in Prescott."
"How 'bout you and your partner, Mr. Gunn?"
"Joe? Ah, hell, him and me are getting better the longer we lay off the
booze but we ain't there yet. Don't mean we won't enter and compete.
That's the only way you get better is by going up against the best. You
learn what your doing wrong by watching the pros and asking them questions.
You ask 'em real polite they'll tell you what chur' doing wrong. Now if my
boy was here roping with Dan, then you'd have some competition. As it is,
Waddie's brother roping with him may beat the pants of the two of you.
When their on, there's no team what can beat 'em. Dan, Mutt and Waddie
came to our small town rodeo last year and won every damn roping event."
"I wish I had more communication with Master Waddie. He tells me what
he wants me to do. I do it, we win and he's generous with his praise. He
acts like I did it by myself and all he did was help a little but beyond
that he don't say 'shit' to me." Zane was serious. Big Gunn laughed.
"Son out of all them men out there in that arena there's maybe two who
are genuine cowboys. Can you pick 'em out?"
"Yes, Sir, I think so. My partner, Master Waddie, and his brother
Mutt."
"You got it! Them two ole boys were born and raised cowboys. They're
quiet, unassuming and generous to a fault. They're a bit shy until they
get to know you and they won't push themselves off on nobody. I've seen
the way he looks at you when you don't know. You want my opinion I think
the big cowboy's in love with you and don't know how to tell you. Have you
ever confronted him about the way you feel? I see the way you look at him.
It's obvious to me you'd have no problem licking the cow flop off'n the
man's boots."
"No problem? I say 'grace' to the Almighty before I done it, Master
Gunn." Zane winked at Big Gunn and they laughed together.
Everyone traveled to the Prescott rodeo in Dan's motor coach and pickup.
The rest took their own trucks and horse trailers. Everyone was in a rodeo
mood again. It just so happened that the Hot Dawgs rode to the rodeo and
Spider and his four buddies were riding with them. Harley and Janice were
riding with them as well.
Everyone watched and after practice runs determined the teams to beat
were the two teams from the Broken Arrow ranch South of Tucson. It came
time for the first team to rope and that was Zane and Waddie. The two men
were in the arena adjusting their ropes and Zane was riding close to Waddie
for any last minute instructions.
"Let's do something a little different today, Pardner, " Waddie said to
Zane. Zane looked him in the eye and waited, "You got it all down pat.
Ain't much more I can teach chu.' You got your own style and it's damn good
but there's only one thing that's missing in your throw'n." Waddie looked
at Zane, smiled and continued to adjust his rope.
"What's 'at, Master?" Zane asked quietly.
"Love." Replied Waddie quietly. "Love and fun in doing what chur'
doing."
"S'a little hard, Master Waddie after,----"
"No, no! Has nothing to do with that. It has to do with your love for
the sport and the love you have for your partner who's giving his all to
make you look good; to see to it you win. Even when Bart was with us did I
ever fail to show you my love when we was roping together?" Zane was
stunned. This was more than Waddie said to him since Bart was killed but
the man was right. He always showed Zane the utmost love and respect when
they were roping together. Waddie went out of his way to make Zane the
hero. Zane didn't know what to say.
"Naw, Sir. It's the only time you show me your love but I appreciated
it every time."
"Okay then, throw everything out the window I told you and show me your
love today. Think you can do that, Son?" Zane thought for a moment, smiled
real big at Waddie and replied.
"Ooooh, yeah, Master Waddie. No problem." Waddie smiled back at his
response and winked at his partner.
Zane knew nothing more would be said. Waddie gave him his 'all-set'
with two fingers to the brim of his hat and Zane was ready. The barrier
dropped; Zane felt the love he had in his heart burst forth from the chute
as his partner all ready had the critter roped, dallied and was turning
after no more than two large leaps. Zane threw his rope with the biggest
smile on his face, caught the steer, dallied his rope, his pony backed up
and was set. The crowd in the stands were on their feet; they knew it was
going to be the catch to beat. The two cowboys looked across at each
other, the crowd and their personal friends swore there was a glow that
surrounded them. Zane took off his hat and sailed into the stands and his
partner followed suit.
They got their ropes undone and slowly rode over to the stands to pick
up their hats. The audience was still cheering and gladly handed the men
their hats. The announcer then gave the time for their run and it was a
new arena record for the Prescott rodeo. The crowd was on their feet again
and Waddie and Zane rode together around the arena tipping their hats to
the crowd.
"Did I show you enough love that time, Master Waddie?" Zane asked his
partner.
"I'll say you did, Son. Hope I did for you, too."
"You know,---I really do love you, Master Waddie. I have for a long
time."
"Why do you think I can't talk to you about nothing cept rope'n?"
"You love me that much, Master Waddie?"
"Yes, Son, I do. I can't talk to you 'cause my old dick hurts so much
every time I'm around you."
"If'n you feel that way, would you consider being my Master, Sir?"
"Hey, hey! Hold on there a second, Cowboy. I wouldn't never buy a pair
of boots less'n I tried 'em on first."
"I'd be honored and proud for you to try this slave on, Master Waddie.
In fact you'd make me about the happiest cowboy at this rodeo." They rode
toward the exit with the crowd still applauding.
"Can you imagine what them folks would think if'n they could hear our
conversation right now?" Waddie chuckled as he asked his winning partner.
Zane pushed his hat back on his head and laughed. Waddie put his big arm
around his little buddy and the two cowboys rode out of the arena together
to more cheers.
The rodeo continued but no one came close to Waddie and Zane's toss.
They won first place; Dan and Mutt won second. For the second time in two
years the cowboys from the Broken Arrow ranch took all the prize money for
team roping. Dan was thrilled and pleased. It gave the ranch a certain
respectability that make him feel like a king. It ultimately brought him
some of the best hands in the Southwest. Good cowboys were hard to find
and wanted to be a part of an outfit that was recognized as being a working
ranch; one they could be proud to ride for. In effect, a family they could
become a part of.
That evening everyone knew there was something different going on. Only
a hand full of the men knew some kind of break through between Waddie and
Zane had taken place. Zane was by Waddie's side all evening. Mutt knew
without a doubt what happened, so did Beryl, Dan, Jeb and Big Jim. Harley
was no dummy either. They weren't talking much but they still had a
noticeable glow about them. Waddie didn't take his arm from around Zane
all evening and Zane sat as near his hero as he could. Dan Yates leaned
over to Waddie.
"You want to use the back bedroom of the coach tonight, Son, so's you
two won't be bothered if we come in later?"
"That would be mighty nice of you, Boss. Don't want to take your bed
away from you but this is kind of an important evening for us."
"You both deserve it, Cowboy, you won the rodeo. Now, we're all hope'n
you're gonna' win another one tonight."
"Don't think ya'll have to worry to much about that, Dan. We sure
appreciate your generosity."
Waddie and Zane left earlier than the rest amid whistles and cat calls.
The entire bar stood up and applauded for them as the winning team at the
rodeo that day. It was like a dream walking back to the rodeo grounds in
the warm summer night. Zane didn't say anything. He wanted Waddie to take
the lead. He wasn't disappointed.
"Dan told us to take the back bedroom in his coach."
"He's a good man, Master Waddie, I love him a lot."
"So do I, Son, so do I."
They got back to the motor coach and let themselves in. They went to
the back bedroom and Waddie allowed Zane to be his slave for the evening.
Zane took his time and obviously enjoyed undressing his Master for the
evening. He didn't hesitate to pay homage to Waddie's dusty, dirty boots
and cleaned them well. Waddie watched Zane undress and had to catch his
breath when the young man turned to him. He was perfect in every respect.
Waddie pulled Zane to him and kissed him. His dick got roaring hard and
Zane laughed at him.
"You weren't lying to me," he laughed, "give me a minute to clean myself
and I'll try to satisfy you, Master."
Waddie smiled but didn't didn't comment. He lay there having another
drink Zane fixed him and watching the local evening news on the TV. He
watched Zane and himself make their prize winning catch earlier in the day.
Waddie mused to himself and wondered if Zane was the other love God sent
him to spend the rest of his life with. It didn't take him to long to
figure out Zane was indeed that person. Waddie had a hard time because it
was as a result of Bart's death but he loved Bart with all his heart and
never coveted his partner. If anything he ran the other way.
The cowboys made love that night and Zane made sure every opening on his
body fit the big cowboy so he could make his decision as to whether he
would make a claim for him. Fortunately, for Zane, every part of his body
fit the cowboy like a comfortable pair of boots.
They made love all that night and slept with Waddie way up inside his
partner. The next day, it was never discussed between them, they just
knew. So did everyone else. There was much laughter and kidding at the
breakfast table the next morning. Waddie and his new slave didn't care,
they were very much in love. Waddie made a claim for his new slave through
Master Jeb and Big Jim that day. After that night in Prescott the two men
never spent a night apart in thirty years. They always had something to
talk about and Zane made sure Waddie never crawled back to the bottom of
his closet again.
End Chapter 6 ~ Harley & Mutt 2003 ~ All rights reserved
Waddie Greywolf Mail to: waddiebear
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Thursday, July 29, 2004
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Monday, July 26, 2004
Videosz Sex story
Usual disclaimer: This story involves sexual subject matter. If you
aren't old enough to read this, go home! Don't blame me if you have
problems which result from reading further.
by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph) 2002. Please don't
distribute in an altered form, or with any charges for acquisition.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is
unintentional and strictly coincidental. Any real people, places, or
things mentioned in this story do not appear with permission, and any
representations of them should not be interpreted as being in any way
based on reality.
If reception of this work is illegal due to your age or other
repressive local regulations, liability for downloading it is your
problem, not mine.
A Christmas Story (The First Time) My Niece's Christmas Spanking
- by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph) 2002. All Commercial Rights
Reserved.
(MFb/f spank hand inc nosex, MF spank)
My fourteen year old niece Wilma was staying with us for the holidays.
Us being me, her Uncle Bill, my wife Maggie, and our four year old son
Brandon. My sister had divorced recently, and was struggling to get
her own life together. Giving her daughter a bit of family Christmas
cheer just seemed like a nice thing to do. Wilma
was a very badly behaved girl. With that name, I didn't blame her.
OK, it really is a nice name, but totally out of place for an American
city girl. She had several nicknames she used at school, which
helped, but at home her mother always called her by her real name, and
the rest of the family tended to follow suit. Besides, I wasn't about
to call her "Death Baby" no matter what her friends did.
At eleven, she had been a cute looking blonde girl, dressed in nice
girlish clothes, with just a bit of girl shape. Sparkly blue eyes, a
lovely smile, a little angel. Now, she wore sexy clothes, or 'street'
fashions, and looked more like a little devil than an angel. She'd
dyed a red streak in her pretty blonde hair and was blessed with
breasts which would be good-sized on an adult woman.
As her uncle, I could have easily ignored her burgeoning sexuality.
But her outfits, especially her tight tank tops and halters sans bras,
made that difficult. I'd have said hard, but thankfully I somehow
managed not to show my physical response to her actions. It wasn't as
if she were flirting with me, just that she moved like she was trying
to get some boy to notice her. Only little Brandon and I were around
to be affected, and that annoyed me too. I had no idea how to tell
her to behave, except to tell her to wear some regular clothes.
Maggie didn't want to play mother to the girl, either.
"These are my regular clothes, Bill! I don't like any others anyway."
She'd leave off Aunt and Uncle when addressing us too. We just didn't
know what to do with her. She was family, and we were supposed to be
trying to give her a family Christmas, all happy and joyful.
Now, the last time she'd spent much time around us she was a perfectly
nice girl. That was about three years ago, before the divorce and the
troubles which led to it. Not anymore. Now, she'd swear, disobey,
talk back, break things and throw tantrums. We'd grounded her after
the second day of her visit, and talked with her a lot. Long
discussions, explaining our house rules, and trying to find some way
to reach her. But none of this seemed to have any effect on her.
I talked with her mom, and she told us "Just whoop her butt. She'll
understand that, and settle down. I don't know why you'd expect her
to just listen to you."
We were reluctant to carry out this advice. I hadn't liked it a bit
when my parents spanked me, or my sister for that matter, and I
definitely knew that we hadn't 'settled down! We just learned how to
avoid getting caught. It took some hard knocks after leaving home to
get my life together, and I wasn't entirely sure my sister had learned
that yet. Maybe we were just soft, but I'd promised never to spank my
child, and didn't like the idea of doing it to my niece. Especially
not at her age!
Then, Wilma smacked her baby cousin Brandon in the face, hard,
knocking him down. "He should just leave me alone! I don't want to
play with him now," she told us. She showed no apparent remorse for
doing it, not even an "I'm sorry," said to placate us, even if it were
insincere.
We knew we had to do something. We talked it over, and agreed that
I'd spank her. Maybe, after I did that, I might get her to listen
long enough to make her understand. I didn't want to hurt her but she
couldn't go around hurting others.
"Wilma, you can't go around hitting Brandon, or anyone else for that
matter," I told her as she stood in the living room, waiting
impatiently for me to get done with my useless prattle. My wife was
sitting in the chair across the room, just listening, there for morale
support. I don't know why I ended up being the heavy, having to
punish her, but Maggie just wouldn't do it no matter how I asked.
We'd put Brandon to bed. I didn't want him to see a spanking,
something we'd never done to him. It was late enough that we could
just send our niece to bed afterward, our more usual punishment of
confinement and no TV. This time, there would be one more element.
"Your mom told us that we should spank you if you are bad."
"I thought you guys didn't do that!" Wilma protested.
"We'd rather not do it, but you just haven't listened to us, and we
can't put up with that type of behavior. I talked with your mom
tonight and she insists that we need to do it."
"Did you tell her what I did?"
"Yes."
"Oh, she'll be mean to me. I'm sorry I hit Brandon. Please don't tell
mom again, Uncle Bill."
"If you behave, I won't have anything to tell her, will I?" I had
reached her, with this threat. Did I still have to spank her?
"Hell, she's already going to do it anyway. Why should I care?"
Wilma said.
She stood with her hands on her hips, her breasts jiggling under her
T-shirt. Obviously she'd left her bra off, again. I really wanted
to get her to listen to me, and didn't need her trying to . . . well,
to distract me with her sexiness. My Maggie was more than sexy enough
for me, and this deliberate attack -- it was more than mere flirting,
or even playful teasing -- was getting to me.
I had to do it -- I couldn't think of any other solution. Dad had
always said "This hurts me more than it does you." I didn't believe
him, but now that I was about to do it, it really did hurt me. But
still, I had to.
"Wilma, come over here," I said sternly.
"Why?"
"So I can spank you, just like your mom does."
To my shocked surprise, she instantly relaxed, letting her arms hang
down, and walked quickly over to me. No arguing, no more talking
back. It was as if she was resigned to being spanked.
But why was she grinning? Not a smile, she didn't do that often, but
the same sort of expression she had right before she broke something.
I guess I just don't understand teen-aged girls.
"Just like with mom?" she asked me.
Maggie hadn't said anything, but I could see her watching this
intently. Wilma was standing in front of me, as I sat on an open
chair that was just fine for spanking. Her back was to my wife, and I
could see Maggie nod her head, signaling me without words that I was
doing the right thing.
"Yes, the same way," I assured her.
I realized that I didn't know exactly how this girl got spanked. Like
Dad did with us? No way, he always took our pants and underwear off,
even my sister's. I didn't see that of course, at least not after I
got older, but she told me about it. However, I did know that her mom
spanked her hard and long, and I knew I could do that.
Wilma undid her pants, and slid them down right in front of me - all
the way down. I was going to protest because her neon green bikini
panties were not just thin, but see-through except for the narrow
crotch panel that covered her sex.
She slowly turned all the way around while doing this and I could see
her bare ass through the cloth, not truly concealed. Maggie got a
nice look at her as well, but neither of us said a word.
It would definitely hurt more to get hit through that thin cloth than
her jeans. I could live with the exposure, and maybe Maggie felt the
same way. It wasn't like I was doing anything sexual with her, and
after all, she was my relative and just a child.
While I was thinking this, Wilma slid her panties down while staring
intently into my eyes. She bent over while doing this, thus giving
my wife a nice look at her bare behind. When she stood up, I couldn't
help myself. I stared at her furry pussy, lovely light brown hair
covering it, and the enticing ridge in the middle, slightly poking
through all that hair. She waited, letting me look, saying nothing.
When I looked up to her face, she cocked an eyebrow at me before
draping herself across my lap, face down, hiding her lovely pussy.
Her ass looked up at me, ready to be spanked. No light spanking, not
for this.
What was I thinking? I tried to get control of myself. I was
aroused, but that wasn't what this was about. This was discipline,
punishment. Not play. Not sex. Nor was I here to hurt her, just to
do enough to get her attention. To reach this girl. This very sexy
girl, who apparently thought nothing about letting her Uncle look at
her bare bottom. No way she didn't notice how I had looked at her
pussy.
Whap!
I hit her hard with the flat of my hand, and then did it again and
again, on each ass cheek. Wilma didn't put her hands up to protect
herself. Instead, she spread her legs a bit and pushed herself down
into my lap harder.
I glanced over at Maggie, and saw that she was signaling me. She
mouthed 'That girl is getting wet.'
'What?' I said back silently. I wasn't sure what she meant, and then
I realized it. I'd noticed that her panties were damp before, but
thought it was just sweat.
I lost count of the number of times I'd smacked her by now rosy ass
and suspected that I'd gone over the number planned. Yet Wilma made
no complaint at all. She whimpered in pain, but truly seemed to be
getting off on this action. I kept going, and might have kept on all
night except that I saw Maggie wave to me. She put up her hand,
signaling "Stop!"
I did that. Then, realizing that Wilma's buns were quite red, I
rubbed them gently, stroking her on every red spot. I noticed that
I'd hit her thighs and, with her legs spread, in between them. Not on
her vagina but I could see that now as my fingers passed within an
inch of that wet opening. I could smell her girlish scent too, and I
was very glad that Wilma couldn't see my face.
The girl said nothing about this, just let me do it. I hoped she
didn't feel my hard-on, pressed against her belly. But my pants were
tight, so she'd need to be very sensitive to notice. It embarrassed
me, and her reaction did as well. I had no idea what I was supposed
to do about that.
"Wilma," I said, "Go to your room, right now, and don't come out again
tonight. Think about what you've done, and we can talk tomorrow about
how you can learn to behave properly here."
Maggie said, "I know that your mother and dad don't do things like us,
but I'm sure you can learn to get along here. OK?"
I was a bit surprised that Maggie didn't try to say more, or offer
some other suggestion. I thought she was really good at that, finding
ways for us to get along better, ending fights before they got bad.
But she looked as disturbed, maybe even aroused, as I felt. We'd
played spanking games once upon a time, while trying out new things
together, but somehow it just didn't seem fun enough to keep doing.
But Wilma truly seemed to enjoy it.
We let the girl go, and she didn't even pull her pants all the way up.
She left the room with her bare ass still showing, To my relief, she
didn't turn around. I could see that my own arousal wasn't concealed
well at all, once the weight of her bare bottom was off my lap. Maybe
the increased blood flow made it grow, but I was aroused to
distraction, watching my sexy teen niece leave the room.
'Just a physical reaction, nothing more. I mean, even a priest would
react to a display like that,' I thought to myself. �It doesn't mean
I want to make it with the girl.' My thoughts came first, then my
feelings confirmed it. Less of a threat to my virtue than some porn
star might be if one visited our house, naked. Wilma was off-limits,
for many reasons, and I was glad. But God, what a lovely ass for a
teen girl! Especially all flushed red from spanking.
Maggie and I talked about what happened. I couldn't conceal the
effect Wilma had on me from her, but Maggie said, "I'm hot and wet, it
isn't just you." She stood up, then added, "I should go and check on
her. Maybe she'll want to talk about this."
When Maggie came back, she told me, almost shocked, "The girl, that .
. . Wilma was 'having fun.' Not all that quietly either. She said
'Spank me,' in between the moaning and groaning. I thought maybe that
she just got wet from the contact, you know, but I think she really
got off on spanking."
"Like she was hoping to get one?"
"Maybe, yeah."
We went to bed ourselves after this. It was late, but we weren't
exactly tired. As soon as we got naked, Maggie asked me, "How about
you spank me like that?"
I was reluctant, because I had such oddly mixed feelings about this
situation. I hadn't spanked Wilma to please her, let alone as a form
of sexual stimulation. But it sure seemed like that was how she took
it. I knew that if I did it to Maggie, it would be even harder to
think of it as just punishment. If I slapped my wife's naked ass, it
would be to make her happy.
But Maggie begged me to do it, and I gave in. Hard slaps, but not as
many as I'd gave Wilma. Maggie interrupted it by saying "Take me.
Fuck me from behind my whooped ass!"
I didn't need a second invitation, and she was indeed hot, wet, and
ready. I slid into her pussy, and my hips slapped against her red
bottom as we fucked. In short order, she came from this attention,
hard and violently.
"Pop it out, I want to eat you."
Another thing I had no problem with. I was very near to coming
myself, and didn't mind reducing the wet spot load a bit. My orgasm
was very intense, and though I usually managed to stay quiet, this
time I yelled out loud!
Then, we did it again. This second time, I thought about Wilma's
lovely teen bottom and her sweet teen pussy as I spanked my lovely
Maggie's more mature bottom. Her willing exposure, and the joy she
felt from her spanking, were terribly exciting. I didn't mind, since
it gave me extra energy for our second session.
After, I cuddled against Maggie and said quietly, "We need to do
something about Wilma."
"Tomorrow. I'm just spent. Thank you, that was great."
"I love you."
"Me too."
I think I dreamed of spanking Maggie and Wilma together. I'm not
sure, because it was almost a nightmare . . . because somewhere in it
I was having sex with a young girl. But maybe it was a younger
Maggie, or someone else. I'd had a girlfriend when I was Wilma's age,
and her bottom was -- at least as I remembered it -- as lovely as my
niece's. I didn't want to think, not at all, about having sex with
the young teen girl staying with us. Not my niece, that would be just
. . . wrong.
In the morning, Maggie and I decided to do the simplest thing:
nothing. Neither of us felt secure about talking to our niece. Not
if we were to talk about spanking as a form of sex! Instead, we
wimped out, talking merely about good behavior, and how we hated
having to hurt her to get her attention and respect.
To our disappointment, but not complete surprise, Wilma's temporary
good behavior at breakfast wore off by lunchtime. We told her to
behave, and I even raised my voice.
Maggie took me aside, and said, "The girl wants to be spanked again.
She liked it, and it was no punishment for her. She just can't get
spankings from us without being bad."
"Well, that isn't any help. We don't want her to be bad. How are we
going to get her to behave, if she keeps acting up for more
spankings?"
"Well yourself. The next time she is bad, let's test out her
reactions. See if she really likes getting spanked, enough to show us
her sexual reaction."
"You mean . . . what do you mean?"
"I came when you spanked me."
"You did? You were very quiet about it."
"If you had your hand on my pussy, you'd have noticed. I was ready to
get raped, I wanted you to fuck me hard, forever. Or at least, until
you got me off again."
"OK, so we'll make sure we know how much she likes it."
"She'll know we know, too. Then, maybe we can have a talk about it,
and figure out a solution."
It didn't take long for Wilma to throw a toy, missing Brandon by
inches. His cries of panic drew our attention. It was time to put
our plan into action.
As Wilma came over to me for her spanking, her eyes sparkled, just as
they had when she was a kid. She dropped her pants, and her young boy
cousin Brandon was still in the room watching. I'd forgotten to send
him out. I was going to ask Wilma to undress, but she was going ahead
without me.
Brandon had seen us, Maggie and me, naked a few times. At his age, I
figured that seeing this girl punished, even bare bottomed, wouldn't
be sexual. It might even make him feel better, knowing that this
terrible behavior reaped a terrible punishment, even for this much
older girl.
"Strip naked," Maggie ordered. "This time, take everything off."
Wilma hadn't shown any sign of embarrent about dropping pants and
panties in front of her cousin, but was hesitant to obey this new
command. I reinforced it saying, "You need to be totally bare.
Nothing covering anything that might get spanked."
Maggie added, "You're a big girl, you need to learn to behave like
one."
I didn't know what getting naked for a spanking had to do with growing
up, and Wilma also seemed somewhat confused, but since it was my wife
asking it, she complied. Her halter top didn't hide much, I'd
thought, until I saw how beautiful her breasts were. It wasn't just
that they were big for her body, but they were firm and full, and her
pink nipples were long and quite hard. I'd guessed they were hard,
seeing their points under her top, but the direct view was much more
exciting.
She got her pants and panties off, then her socks too. Naked, not a
bit of clothing on, other than her earrings, she stood and posed for
us. We had not asked for that but it was definitely what I wanted.
Slowly, she rotated, her legs slightly spread. Then, holding one
breast in her hand, she gave us a lovely show.
I was terribly turned on, and kept my hand in my lap in an attempt to
conceal it. My wife was aroused too, mouthing to me as I glanced away
from Wilma's lovely naked body, "She is too hot!"
Our boy seemed a little surprised to see his niece naked, but he
didn't say anything about that. But he did ask, "Are you really going
to spank her? I thought we didn't do that here."
I explained, "We don't, but Wilma's mom does. We need to do this for
her . . . to help her to be good."
He seemed OK with that explanation, and sat down, watching us.
The naked girl seemed delighted to lay on my lap, anticipating my
wishes without words. Her breasts hung against my thigh, her legs
spread. She looked ready for her spanking. Or something more . . .
I spanked her. Hard, making her butt red and looking very sore. She
squirmed and cried, but didn't try to escape, nor put her hands in the
way. Instead, she pressed harder against my body, wriggling across my
lap. And across my hard dick. I worried that she'd notice my
erection but then decided that it no longer mattered.
Forty hard hand hits later, I took a break. My hand was getting sore,
and Wilma didn't seem to mind what I was doing much after all those
pats.
Maggie came over by us and said, "I don't think she's had enough."
To Wilma, she said, "Turn over!"
Wilma did so, sitting on my lap, her back against my chest. Maggie
said, "I don't think that will do. Wilma, lay on the carpet on your
back, legs apart."
The girl jumped up quickly to do this. I don't know what she thought
we were going to do. I didn't know what Maggie had in mind,
precisely, but laying on her back, if we resumed spanking it would be
on something more sensitive than her butt.
My wife grabbed Wilma's breasts, pinching each and pulling on them.
Then, she grabbed each hard nipple tight and squeezed hard. Wilma
cried out in pain, but said not a word.
Maggie said, "Bill, spank her front."
I was standing between Wilma's legs, and I could see clearly the most
sensitive "front" on the girl -- her spread pussy. I knelt between
the girl's legs, and let my hand fly. First on her mons, then lower,
lower, until I was striking her clitoris directly. It was red and
stiff, poking its pearl tip out for me. I stroked it gently, making
the girl squirm with pleasure, then spanked her again. Stroke,
caress, lightly press, and then bang with my hand hard against her
sensitive button. I repeated this action over and over again as
Maggie pinched and pulled on the girl's breasts.
Our boy joined in. I hadn't noticed him walk over by us, intent on my
own "punishment" of the delinquent girl. He grabbed her left breast
and pulled on its nipple, copying what his mother was doing to the
other breast. Maggie quietly told him to keep doing that, to help
teach her not to hit or hurt him again, so he did that.
I don't know what Brandon thought of this, but it made me feel very
strange to watch him maul his cousin's lovely right breast while my
wife did the same to the left. The fact that I was striking and
caressing the girl's pussy, ostensibly for punishment, made the whole
scene seem surreal. I was rock hard but had no idea what to make of
my feelings. This wasn't sex, not as I thought of it. But neither
was it a mere spanking.
Wilma didn't complain at all about this punishment. Not at all, not a
word nor a move in protest. Her breathing grew faster as we continued
and her pussy was dripping wet. We kept this spanking and rubbing on
her pussy and breasts for quite a while. Pretending to spank her, now
more caresses mixed with the "punishment," knowing that the girl was
really getting off on this contact.
Then Maggie asked me, out loud, "Is she a virgin?"
To Wilma, she added, "Are you?"
Before Wilma could think of how to reply, Maggie told me, "Check it
out!"
I was between the girl's legs, and I put both hands on her pussy,
pulling her inner labia open to look at her vagina. I couldn't tell
from that, so I pressed one finger into the opening, slowly pushing it
inside. It was wet and smooth, very warm and silky, but also quite
tight. I pressed a second finger in with the first, and it could
barely fit.
She was a virgin! At least, I didn't think that my cock would fit
into that opening, not without a lot of work. For all her wanton
actions, she was still somewhat innocent.
Wilma confirmed my diagnosis, saying, "I am. I haven't got a boyfriend
yet who will do that with me." She said that with long pauses,
finding it hard to speak as we continued to spank her. I kept the two
fingers inside her, stroking softly in and out, as I "spanked" her
clit with the other. I was striking it, but only with two fingers,
hard but with slow caresses between each hit.
We kept up this spanking; I working on her pussy, and my wife and on
spanking and pinching her nipples. Wilma's breathing got faster, and
I accelerated my attack on her pussy until she came, pressing her
vagina hard against my fingers, pushing up against my hand with her
clit, making loud cries.
Maggie explained to Brandon that Wilma was crying from the pain. That
was true, but only a small part of the truth. I worried about that a
little, but we could clear up the situation later. I didn't think he
was old enough yet to understand about orgasms.
Wilma certainly knew what happened though. When she caught her
breath, I told her simply and quietly, "Go to your room, and think
about what happened tonight."
Maggie and I hugged each other. I was turned on, excited by this
situation, but confused too. Holding my wife made me feel much
better. Then I remembered that Brandon was still there and that he
was still watching us.
"Brandon," I said, "your cousin was just playing with us. She likes
this kind of game. We are going to help her play better. After all,
the only reason she misbehaved with you was . . . "
My burst of truthfulness suddenly ran out. I didn't know how to
explain why Wilma liked being spanked, and especially the last part
where we spanked and played with her breasts and sweet pussy until she
got an orgasm.
Maggie said, "I don't want you to think we would do something like
this to you, son. You are good, and you know how to behave well. But
Wilma is having trouble adjusting. I hope this helped her, but
please, don't bug or tease her about it tomorrow. OK?"
"Sure, Mom," he answered. "I guess her mom does stuff like that to
her all the time."
"I don't know if it is exactly like what we did, but you could be
right."
Maggie then took Brandon off for bed. I sat alone, thinking about
what we'd just done. I tried to think of it as just a kind of
spanking, but I could still smell her scent in the room. I sniffed my
fingers and the scent and flavor -- as I tasted them -- of her girlish
pussy sweetness was still there. I remembered how she looked and
felt, unable to think clearly of anything else.
Maggie came back, and we talked for a while. Maggie said, "I think
that even a stubborn teen girl can figure out that we are onto her
game."
"Kind of hard to ignore an orgasm when your hand is on her pussy,
right?"
"I don't know about you, my husband, but I think I got carried away
playing with her. I tried to spank her, to punish her tits, but I
just couldn't keep it up. It turned me on so to see her getting so
hot from it. Watching you pat her pussy was, well, almost good as
when you do it to me."
"Do you think it did any good?" I asked. Then, seeing that Maggie
seemed confused by the question, "I mean, with Wilma's behavior?"
"I don't know. Let's find out."
So we went off to the girl's room, to check on what she was doing.
Was she angry? Or would she be playing with herself, reliving what
we'd just been "tricked" into doing for her?
When we came by her door, it was quiet. Maggie knocked, then walked
right in.
Wilma was still naked, lying on the bed above the covers. Spread
legged on the bed, one foot dangling off the side, she looked very
sexy. Her pussy looked hot and wet, her labia reddened, even more I
thought than what I'd done to her.
We both just stood and looked at her for at least a minute. Wilma's
hands were on her hips, not far from her pussy, but she lay still, not
saying anything or moving.
Finally, Maggie said, "Wilma, we don't want a repetition of your bad
behavior. We don't want to spank you, not for ordinary problems. So,
I want you to promise not to hit anyone or break things on purpose,
OK?" Wilma didn't say anything.
I added, "From now on, we'll just ground you as we did before."
Then, I looked at Maggie for confirmation. I knew what we'd guessed
about this girl, and we'd talked about a possible solution. Maggie
nodded her head, and I looked at Wilma, staring at her eyes instead of
her delicious looking naked teen body.
"Unless, well, and this is the only thing we will still spank you for
like tonight . . . "
I couldn't speak coherently, imagining spanking the girl's pussy
again, touching it and making her come from my touches, hard and soft.
Maggie continued for me, "Wilma, if you go around the house naked
again, outside your room, we'll have to spank you again. Just like
tonight. Front and back, until you scream again like you did tonight.
Is that understood?"
Wilma shook her head. Then, as if daylight hit the room, her eyes lit
up and she smiled brightly. Her blue eyes sparkled, just as they had
when she was a little girl.
"Thank you," she told us.
"For what?" I asked.
"For being so good to me. I love you both. This is a great
Christmas!"
She seemed so happy. I smiled at her and said "Goodnight dear," as
Maggie and I left.
We heard some soft sighs coming from her room as we slowly walked
away. Grasping Maggie's hand, I whispered, "Let her have more fun. I
need you, I really do. I think it is going to be very interesting
with her around now."
"We'll see . . . but I'll bet we'll see her naked bright and early
tomorrow. In the meantime, maybe you'd like to give me a nice holiday
spanking?"
"I think that could be arranged."
Wilma wasn't being very quiet now, and her cries of pleasure were my
cue to drag my wife off for a good night's spanking.
====
Not sure about nosex code for Wilma's spanking, but how else to make
it clear that there is only a spanking/masturbation scene, no other
sex?
--
by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph) 2002. Please don't
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or author credit and info. Do not distribute it, or place
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other charges specifically for the story, without permission.
If you liked this story, want to put it in a free collection, want to
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write to me at my email address shown above.
You can find more of my stories and other things at my website:
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aren't old enough to read this, go home! Don't blame me if you have
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by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph) 2002. Please don't
distribute in an altered form, or with any charges for acquisition.
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to real persons is
unintentional and strictly coincidental. Any real people, places, or
things mentioned in this story do not appear with permission, and any
representations of them should not be interpreted as being in any way
based on reality.
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problem, not mine.
A Christmas Story (The First Time) My Niece's Christmas Spanking
- by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph) 2002. All Commercial Rights
Reserved.
(MFb/f spank hand inc nosex, MF spank)
My fourteen year old niece Wilma was staying with us for the holidays.
Us being me, her Uncle Bill, my wife Maggie, and our four year old son
Brandon. My sister had divorced recently, and was struggling to get
her own life together. Giving her daughter a bit of family Christmas
cheer just seemed like a nice thing to do. Wilma
was a very badly behaved girl. With that name, I didn't blame her.
OK, it really is a nice name, but totally out of place for an American
city girl. She had several nicknames she used at school, which
helped, but at home her mother always called her by her real name, and
the rest of the family tended to follow suit. Besides, I wasn't about
to call her "Death Baby" no matter what her friends did.
At eleven, she had been a cute looking blonde girl, dressed in nice
girlish clothes, with just a bit of girl shape. Sparkly blue eyes, a
lovely smile, a little angel. Now, she wore sexy clothes, or 'street'
fashions, and looked more like a little devil than an angel. She'd
dyed a red streak in her pretty blonde hair and was blessed with
breasts which would be good-sized on an adult woman.
As her uncle, I could have easily ignored her burgeoning sexuality.
But her outfits, especially her tight tank tops and halters sans bras,
made that difficult. I'd have said hard, but thankfully I somehow
managed not to show my physical response to her actions. It wasn't as
if she were flirting with me, just that she moved like she was trying
to get some boy to notice her. Only little Brandon and I were around
to be affected, and that annoyed me too. I had no idea how to tell
her to behave, except to tell her to wear some regular clothes.
Maggie didn't want to play mother to the girl, either.
"These are my regular clothes, Bill! I don't like any others anyway."
She'd leave off Aunt and Uncle when addressing us too. We just didn't
know what to do with her. She was family, and we were supposed to be
trying to give her a family Christmas, all happy and joyful.
Now, the last time she'd spent much time around us she was a perfectly
nice girl. That was about three years ago, before the divorce and the
troubles which led to it. Not anymore. Now, she'd swear, disobey,
talk back, break things and throw tantrums. We'd grounded her after
the second day of her visit, and talked with her a lot. Long
discussions, explaining our house rules, and trying to find some way
to reach her. But none of this seemed to have any effect on her.
I talked with her mom, and she told us "Just whoop her butt. She'll
understand that, and settle down. I don't know why you'd expect her
to just listen to you."
We were reluctant to carry out this advice. I hadn't liked it a bit
when my parents spanked me, or my sister for that matter, and I
definitely knew that we hadn't 'settled down! We just learned how to
avoid getting caught. It took some hard knocks after leaving home to
get my life together, and I wasn't entirely sure my sister had learned
that yet. Maybe we were just soft, but I'd promised never to spank my
child, and didn't like the idea of doing it to my niece. Especially
not at her age!
Then, Wilma smacked her baby cousin Brandon in the face, hard,
knocking him down. "He should just leave me alone! I don't want to
play with him now," she told us. She showed no apparent remorse for
doing it, not even an "I'm sorry," said to placate us, even if it were
insincere.
We knew we had to do something. We talked it over, and agreed that
I'd spank her. Maybe, after I did that, I might get her to listen
long enough to make her understand. I didn't want to hurt her but she
couldn't go around hurting others.
"Wilma, you can't go around hitting Brandon, or anyone else for that
matter," I told her as she stood in the living room, waiting
impatiently for me to get done with my useless prattle. My wife was
sitting in the chair across the room, just listening, there for morale
support. I don't know why I ended up being the heavy, having to
punish her, but Maggie just wouldn't do it no matter how I asked.
We'd put Brandon to bed. I didn't want him to see a spanking,
something we'd never done to him. It was late enough that we could
just send our niece to bed afterward, our more usual punishment of
confinement and no TV. This time, there would be one more element.
"Your mom told us that we should spank you if you are bad."
"I thought you guys didn't do that!" Wilma protested.
"We'd rather not do it, but you just haven't listened to us, and we
can't put up with that type of behavior. I talked with your mom
tonight and she insists that we need to do it."
"Did you tell her what I did?"
"Yes."
"Oh, she'll be mean to me. I'm sorry I hit Brandon. Please don't tell
mom again, Uncle Bill."
"If you behave, I won't have anything to tell her, will I?" I had
reached her, with this threat. Did I still have to spank her?
"Hell, she's already going to do it anyway. Why should I care?"
Wilma said.
She stood with her hands on her hips, her breasts jiggling under her
T-shirt. Obviously she'd left her bra off, again. I really wanted
to get her to listen to me, and didn't need her trying to . . . well,
to distract me with her sexiness. My Maggie was more than sexy enough
for me, and this deliberate attack -- it was more than mere flirting,
or even playful teasing -- was getting to me.
I had to do it -- I couldn't think of any other solution. Dad had
always said "This hurts me more than it does you." I didn't believe
him, but now that I was about to do it, it really did hurt me. But
still, I had to.
"Wilma, come over here," I said sternly.
"Why?"
"So I can spank you, just like your mom does."
To my shocked surprise, she instantly relaxed, letting her arms hang
down, and walked quickly over to me. No arguing, no more talking
back. It was as if she was resigned to being spanked.
But why was she grinning? Not a smile, she didn't do that often, but
the same sort of expression she had right before she broke something.
I guess I just don't understand teen-aged girls.
"Just like with mom?" she asked me.
Maggie hadn't said anything, but I could see her watching this
intently. Wilma was standing in front of me, as I sat on an open
chair that was just fine for spanking. Her back was to my wife, and I
could see Maggie nod her head, signaling me without words that I was
doing the right thing.
"Yes, the same way," I assured her.
I realized that I didn't know exactly how this girl got spanked. Like
Dad did with us? No way, he always took our pants and underwear off,
even my sister's. I didn't see that of course, at least not after I
got older, but she told me about it. However, I did know that her mom
spanked her hard and long, and I knew I could do that.
Wilma undid her pants, and slid them down right in front of me - all
the way down. I was going to protest because her neon green bikini
panties were not just thin, but see-through except for the narrow
crotch panel that covered her sex.
She slowly turned all the way around while doing this and I could see
her bare ass through the cloth, not truly concealed. Maggie got a
nice look at her as well, but neither of us said a word.
It would definitely hurt more to get hit through that thin cloth than
her jeans. I could live with the exposure, and maybe Maggie felt the
same way. It wasn't like I was doing anything sexual with her, and
after all, she was my relative and just a child.
While I was thinking this, Wilma slid her panties down while staring
intently into my eyes. She bent over while doing this, thus giving
my wife a nice look at her bare behind. When she stood up, I couldn't
help myself. I stared at her furry pussy, lovely light brown hair
covering it, and the enticing ridge in the middle, slightly poking
through all that hair. She waited, letting me look, saying nothing.
When I looked up to her face, she cocked an eyebrow at me before
draping herself across my lap, face down, hiding her lovely pussy.
Her ass looked up at me, ready to be spanked. No light spanking, not
for this.
What was I thinking? I tried to get control of myself. I was
aroused, but that wasn't what this was about. This was discipline,
punishment. Not play. Not sex. Nor was I here to hurt her, just to
do enough to get her attention. To reach this girl. This very sexy
girl, who apparently thought nothing about letting her Uncle look at
her bare bottom. No way she didn't notice how I had looked at her
pussy.
Whap!
I hit her hard with the flat of my hand, and then did it again and
again, on each ass cheek. Wilma didn't put her hands up to protect
herself. Instead, she spread her legs a bit and pushed herself down
into my lap harder.
I glanced over at Maggie, and saw that she was signaling me. She
mouthed 'That girl is getting wet.'
'What?' I said back silently. I wasn't sure what she meant, and then
I realized it. I'd noticed that her panties were damp before, but
thought it was just sweat.
I lost count of the number of times I'd smacked her by now rosy ass
and suspected that I'd gone over the number planned. Yet Wilma made
no complaint at all. She whimpered in pain, but truly seemed to be
getting off on this action. I kept going, and might have kept on all
night except that I saw Maggie wave to me. She put up her hand,
signaling "Stop!"
I did that. Then, realizing that Wilma's buns were quite red, I
rubbed them gently, stroking her on every red spot. I noticed that
I'd hit her thighs and, with her legs spread, in between them. Not on
her vagina but I could see that now as my fingers passed within an
inch of that wet opening. I could smell her girlish scent too, and I
was very glad that Wilma couldn't see my face.
The girl said nothing about this, just let me do it. I hoped she
didn't feel my hard-on, pressed against her belly. But my pants were
tight, so she'd need to be very sensitive to notice. It embarrassed
me, and her reaction did as well. I had no idea what I was supposed
to do about that.
"Wilma," I said, "Go to your room, right now, and don't come out again
tonight. Think about what you've done, and we can talk tomorrow about
how you can learn to behave properly here."
Maggie said, "I know that your mother and dad don't do things like us,
but I'm sure you can learn to get along here. OK?"
I was a bit surprised that Maggie didn't try to say more, or offer
some other suggestion. I thought she was really good at that, finding
ways for us to get along better, ending fights before they got bad.
But she looked as disturbed, maybe even aroused, as I felt. We'd
played spanking games once upon a time, while trying out new things
together, but somehow it just didn't seem fun enough to keep doing.
But Wilma truly seemed to enjoy it.
We let the girl go, and she didn't even pull her pants all the way up.
She left the room with her bare ass still showing, To my relief, she
didn't turn around. I could see that my own arousal wasn't concealed
well at all, once the weight of her bare bottom was off my lap. Maybe
the increased blood flow made it grow, but I was aroused to
distraction, watching my sexy teen niece leave the room.
'Just a physical reaction, nothing more. I mean, even a priest would
react to a display like that,' I thought to myself. �It doesn't mean
I want to make it with the girl.' My thoughts came first, then my
feelings confirmed it. Less of a threat to my virtue than some porn
star might be if one visited our house, naked. Wilma was off-limits,
for many reasons, and I was glad. But God, what a lovely ass for a
teen girl! Especially all flushed red from spanking.
Maggie and I talked about what happened. I couldn't conceal the
effect Wilma had on me from her, but Maggie said, "I'm hot and wet, it
isn't just you." She stood up, then added, "I should go and check on
her. Maybe she'll want to talk about this."
When Maggie came back, she told me, almost shocked, "The girl, that .
. . Wilma was 'having fun.' Not all that quietly either. She said
'Spank me,' in between the moaning and groaning. I thought maybe that
she just got wet from the contact, you know, but I think she really
got off on spanking."
"Like she was hoping to get one?"
"Maybe, yeah."
We went to bed ourselves after this. It was late, but we weren't
exactly tired. As soon as we got naked, Maggie asked me, "How about
you spank me like that?"
I was reluctant, because I had such oddly mixed feelings about this
situation. I hadn't spanked Wilma to please her, let alone as a form
of sexual stimulation. But it sure seemed like that was how she took
it. I knew that if I did it to Maggie, it would be even harder to
think of it as just punishment. If I slapped my wife's naked ass, it
would be to make her happy.
But Maggie begged me to do it, and I gave in. Hard slaps, but not as
many as I'd gave Wilma. Maggie interrupted it by saying "Take me.
Fuck me from behind my whooped ass!"
I didn't need a second invitation, and she was indeed hot, wet, and
ready. I slid into her pussy, and my hips slapped against her red
bottom as we fucked. In short order, she came from this attention,
hard and violently.
"Pop it out, I want to eat you."
Another thing I had no problem with. I was very near to coming
myself, and didn't mind reducing the wet spot load a bit. My orgasm
was very intense, and though I usually managed to stay quiet, this
time I yelled out loud!
Then, we did it again. This second time, I thought about Wilma's
lovely teen bottom and her sweet teen pussy as I spanked my lovely
Maggie's more mature bottom. Her willing exposure, and the joy she
felt from her spanking, were terribly exciting. I didn't mind, since
it gave me extra energy for our second session.
After, I cuddled against Maggie and said quietly, "We need to do
something about Wilma."
"Tomorrow. I'm just spent. Thank you, that was great."
"I love you."
"Me too."
I think I dreamed of spanking Maggie and Wilma together. I'm not
sure, because it was almost a nightmare . . . because somewhere in it
I was having sex with a young girl. But maybe it was a younger
Maggie, or someone else. I'd had a girlfriend when I was Wilma's age,
and her bottom was -- at least as I remembered it -- as lovely as my
niece's. I didn't want to think, not at all, about having sex with
the young teen girl staying with us. Not my niece, that would be just
. . . wrong.
In the morning, Maggie and I decided to do the simplest thing:
nothing. Neither of us felt secure about talking to our niece. Not
if we were to talk about spanking as a form of sex! Instead, we
wimped out, talking merely about good behavior, and how we hated
having to hurt her to get her attention and respect.
To our disappointment, but not complete surprise, Wilma's temporary
good behavior at breakfast wore off by lunchtime. We told her to
behave, and I even raised my voice.
Maggie took me aside, and said, "The girl wants to be spanked again.
She liked it, and it was no punishment for her. She just can't get
spankings from us without being bad."
"Well, that isn't any help. We don't want her to be bad. How are we
going to get her to behave, if she keeps acting up for more
spankings?"
"Well yourself. The next time she is bad, let's test out her
reactions. See if she really likes getting spanked, enough to show us
her sexual reaction."
"You mean . . . what do you mean?"
"I came when you spanked me."
"You did? You were very quiet about it."
"If you had your hand on my pussy, you'd have noticed. I was ready to
get raped, I wanted you to fuck me hard, forever. Or at least, until
you got me off again."
"OK, so we'll make sure we know how much she likes it."
"She'll know we know, too. Then, maybe we can have a talk about it,
and figure out a solution."
It didn't take long for Wilma to throw a toy, missing Brandon by
inches. His cries of panic drew our attention. It was time to put
our plan into action.
As Wilma came over to me for her spanking, her eyes sparkled, just as
they had when she was a kid. She dropped her pants, and her young boy
cousin Brandon was still in the room watching. I'd forgotten to send
him out. I was going to ask Wilma to undress, but she was going ahead
without me.
Brandon had seen us, Maggie and me, naked a few times. At his age, I
figured that seeing this girl punished, even bare bottomed, wouldn't
be sexual. It might even make him feel better, knowing that this
terrible behavior reaped a terrible punishment, even for this much
older girl.
"Strip naked," Maggie ordered. "This time, take everything off."
Wilma hadn't shown any sign of embarrent about dropping pants and
panties in front of her cousin, but was hesitant to obey this new
command. I reinforced it saying, "You need to be totally bare.
Nothing covering anything that might get spanked."
Maggie added, "You're a big girl, you need to learn to behave like
one."
I didn't know what getting naked for a spanking had to do with growing
up, and Wilma also seemed somewhat confused, but since it was my wife
asking it, she complied. Her halter top didn't hide much, I'd
thought, until I saw how beautiful her breasts were. It wasn't just
that they were big for her body, but they were firm and full, and her
pink nipples were long and quite hard. I'd guessed they were hard,
seeing their points under her top, but the direct view was much more
exciting.
She got her pants and panties off, then her socks too. Naked, not a
bit of clothing on, other than her earrings, she stood and posed for
us. We had not asked for that but it was definitely what I wanted.
Slowly, she rotated, her legs slightly spread. Then, holding one
breast in her hand, she gave us a lovely show.
I was terribly turned on, and kept my hand in my lap in an attempt to
conceal it. My wife was aroused too, mouthing to me as I glanced away
from Wilma's lovely naked body, "She is too hot!"
Our boy seemed a little surprised to see his niece naked, but he
didn't say anything about that. But he did ask, "Are you really going
to spank her? I thought we didn't do that here."
I explained, "We don't, but Wilma's mom does. We need to do this for
her . . . to help her to be good."
He seemed OK with that explanation, and sat down, watching us.
The naked girl seemed delighted to lay on my lap, anticipating my
wishes without words. Her breasts hung against my thigh, her legs
spread. She looked ready for her spanking. Or something more . . .
I spanked her. Hard, making her butt red and looking very sore. She
squirmed and cried, but didn't try to escape, nor put her hands in the
way. Instead, she pressed harder against my body, wriggling across my
lap. And across my hard dick. I worried that she'd notice my
erection but then decided that it no longer mattered.
Forty hard hand hits later, I took a break. My hand was getting sore,
and Wilma didn't seem to mind what I was doing much after all those
pats.
Maggie came over by us and said, "I don't think she's had enough."
To Wilma, she said, "Turn over!"
Wilma did so, sitting on my lap, her back against my chest. Maggie
said, "I don't think that will do. Wilma, lay on the carpet on your
back, legs apart."
The girl jumped up quickly to do this. I don't know what she thought
we were going to do. I didn't know what Maggie had in mind,
precisely, but laying on her back, if we resumed spanking it would be
on something more sensitive than her butt.
My wife grabbed Wilma's breasts, pinching each and pulling on them.
Then, she grabbed each hard nipple tight and squeezed hard. Wilma
cried out in pain, but said not a word.
Maggie said, "Bill, spank her front."
I was standing between Wilma's legs, and I could see clearly the most
sensitive "front" on the girl -- her spread pussy. I knelt between
the girl's legs, and let my hand fly. First on her mons, then lower,
lower, until I was striking her clitoris directly. It was red and
stiff, poking its pearl tip out for me. I stroked it gently, making
the girl squirm with pleasure, then spanked her again. Stroke,
caress, lightly press, and then bang with my hand hard against her
sensitive button. I repeated this action over and over again as
Maggie pinched and pulled on the girl's breasts.
Our boy joined in. I hadn't noticed him walk over by us, intent on my
own "punishment" of the delinquent girl. He grabbed her left breast
and pulled on its nipple, copying what his mother was doing to the
other breast. Maggie quietly told him to keep doing that, to help
teach her not to hit or hurt him again, so he did that.
I don't know what Brandon thought of this, but it made me feel very
strange to watch him maul his cousin's lovely right breast while my
wife did the same to the left. The fact that I was striking and
caressing the girl's pussy, ostensibly for punishment, made the whole
scene seem surreal. I was rock hard but had no idea what to make of
my feelings. This wasn't sex, not as I thought of it. But neither
was it a mere spanking.
Wilma didn't complain at all about this punishment. Not at all, not a
word nor a move in protest. Her breathing grew faster as we continued
and her pussy was dripping wet. We kept this spanking and rubbing on
her pussy and breasts for quite a while. Pretending to spank her, now
more caresses mixed with the "punishment," knowing that the girl was
really getting off on this contact.
Then Maggie asked me, out loud, "Is she a virgin?"
To Wilma, she added, "Are you?"
Before Wilma could think of how to reply, Maggie told me, "Check it
out!"
I was between the girl's legs, and I put both hands on her pussy,
pulling her inner labia open to look at her vagina. I couldn't tell
from that, so I pressed one finger into the opening, slowly pushing it
inside. It was wet and smooth, very warm and silky, but also quite
tight. I pressed a second finger in with the first, and it could
barely fit.
She was a virgin! At least, I didn't think that my cock would fit
into that opening, not without a lot of work. For all her wanton
actions, she was still somewhat innocent.
Wilma confirmed my diagnosis, saying, "I am. I haven't got a boyfriend
yet who will do that with me." She said that with long pauses,
finding it hard to speak as we continued to spank her. I kept the two
fingers inside her, stroking softly in and out, as I "spanked" her
clit with the other. I was striking it, but only with two fingers,
hard but with slow caresses between each hit.
We kept up this spanking; I working on her pussy, and my wife and on
spanking and pinching her nipples. Wilma's breathing got faster, and
I accelerated my attack on her pussy until she came, pressing her
vagina hard against my fingers, pushing up against my hand with her
clit, making loud cries.
Maggie explained to Brandon that Wilma was crying from the pain. That
was true, but only a small part of the truth. I worried about that a
little, but we could clear up the situation later. I didn't think he
was old enough yet to understand about orgasms.
Wilma certainly knew what happened though. When she caught her
breath, I told her simply and quietly, "Go to your room, and think
about what happened tonight."
Maggie and I hugged each other. I was turned on, excited by this
situation, but confused too. Holding my wife made me feel much
better. Then I remembered that Brandon was still there and that he
was still watching us.
"Brandon," I said, "your cousin was just playing with us. She likes
this kind of game. We are going to help her play better. After all,
the only reason she misbehaved with you was . . . "
My burst of truthfulness suddenly ran out. I didn't know how to
explain why Wilma liked being spanked, and especially the last part
where we spanked and played with her breasts and sweet pussy until she
got an orgasm.
Maggie said, "I don't want you to think we would do something like
this to you, son. You are good, and you know how to behave well. But
Wilma is having trouble adjusting. I hope this helped her, but
please, don't bug or tease her about it tomorrow. OK?"
"Sure, Mom," he answered. "I guess her mom does stuff like that to
her all the time."
"I don't know if it is exactly like what we did, but you could be
right."
Maggie then took Brandon off for bed. I sat alone, thinking about
what we'd just done. I tried to think of it as just a kind of
spanking, but I could still smell her scent in the room. I sniffed my
fingers and the scent and flavor -- as I tasted them -- of her girlish
pussy sweetness was still there. I remembered how she looked and
felt, unable to think clearly of anything else.
Maggie came back, and we talked for a while. Maggie said, "I think
that even a stubborn teen girl can figure out that we are onto her
game."
"Kind of hard to ignore an orgasm when your hand is on her pussy,
right?"
"I don't know about you, my husband, but I think I got carried away
playing with her. I tried to spank her, to punish her tits, but I
just couldn't keep it up. It turned me on so to see her getting so
hot from it. Watching you pat her pussy was, well, almost good as
when you do it to me."
"Do you think it did any good?" I asked. Then, seeing that Maggie
seemed confused by the question, "I mean, with Wilma's behavior?"
"I don't know. Let's find out."
So we went off to the girl's room, to check on what she was doing.
Was she angry? Or would she be playing with herself, reliving what
we'd just been "tricked" into doing for her?
When we came by her door, it was quiet. Maggie knocked, then walked
right in.
Wilma was still naked, lying on the bed above the covers. Spread
legged on the bed, one foot dangling off the side, she looked very
sexy. Her pussy looked hot and wet, her labia reddened, even more I
thought than what I'd done to her.
We both just stood and looked at her for at least a minute. Wilma's
hands were on her hips, not far from her pussy, but she lay still, not
saying anything or moving.
Finally, Maggie said, "Wilma, we don't want a repetition of your bad
behavior. We don't want to spank you, not for ordinary problems. So,
I want you to promise not to hit anyone or break things on purpose,
OK?" Wilma didn't say anything.
I added, "From now on, we'll just ground you as we did before."
Then, I looked at Maggie for confirmation. I knew what we'd guessed
about this girl, and we'd talked about a possible solution. Maggie
nodded her head, and I looked at Wilma, staring at her eyes instead of
her delicious looking naked teen body.
"Unless, well, and this is the only thing we will still spank you for
like tonight . . . "
I couldn't speak coherently, imagining spanking the girl's pussy
again, touching it and making her come from my touches, hard and soft.
Maggie continued for me, "Wilma, if you go around the house naked
again, outside your room, we'll have to spank you again. Just like
tonight. Front and back, until you scream again like you did tonight.
Is that understood?"
Wilma shook her head. Then, as if daylight hit the room, her eyes lit
up and she smiled brightly. Her blue eyes sparkled, just as they had
when she was a little girl.
"Thank you," she told us.
"For what?" I asked.
"For being so good to me. I love you both. This is a great
Christmas!"
She seemed so happy. I smiled at her and said "Goodnight dear," as
Maggie and I left.
We heard some soft sighs coming from her room as we slowly walked
away. Grasping Maggie's hand, I whispered, "Let her have more fun. I
need you, I really do. I think it is going to be very interesting
with her around now."
"We'll see . . . but I'll bet we'll see her naked bright and early
tomorrow. In the meantime, maybe you'd like to give me a nice holiday
spanking?"
"I think that could be arranged."
Wilma wasn't being very quiet now, and her cries of pleasure were my
cue to drag my wife off for a good night's spanking.
====
Not sure about nosex code for Wilma's spanking, but how else to make
it clear that there is only a spanking/masturbation scene, no other
sex?
--
by Jeff Zephyr (jeffzeph) 2002. Please don't
distribute in an altered form, with removal of any part of the story
or author credit and info. Do not distribute it, or place
it on a website, CDROM, or other location or publication, with any
charges for acquisition, either to access the site or archive, or any
other charges specifically for the story, without permission.
If you liked this story, want to put it in a free collection, want to
tell me how I could write better, or just would like to say hello,
write to me at my email address shown above.
You can find more of my stories and other things at my website:
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or via :
://./pub/Authors/jeffzephyr/
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