Date: Sun, 10 Jul 2016 17:32:40 +0000 From: TCHASE MCPHEE Subject: ?JoLLy RaNCHeRs? 15 % This work of fiction is set in the format of reality. Any resemblances to real people, alive or in the hereafter, is entirely coincidental in nature. It is not meant to accurately reflect upon persons of habitats, governmental or non-governmental areas, farmhouses, nor barns. % If sexual scenes involving male-to-male relationships offends you, then why are you here? Seriously, if dude-to-dude sex stuff makes you wanna barf or is gonna screw up your mind, you should not read this story. % States and countries have various rules regarding reading or viewing `adult material'. It is up to you, the reader, to research this subject, abiding by their own laws and conscience. The pages of this story contain `adult material', intended for an `adult audience.' Bypass this warning at your own risk! % Sexual safety matters. Guys, this is fiction. In real life, use protection and I don't mean going out and hiring a security guard...unless he gives your nuts and bolt a jolt. Hey dudes, if you have enjoyed reading NiFTy stories as much as I have over the years, consider adding some $upport for `internet $pace' or else I will have to start cutting handsome, hairy or steamy characters out of my stories. Do you dare imagine a story without any tops? http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html % "JoLLy RaNCHeRs" 15 WriTten by T. Chase McPhee ^ 0 ^ % Rusty hung around most of the morning. He didn't need to lift a finger, because when he did, one of Michael's friends would step in and release the burden of a tree branch, at the same time introducing themselves. So far, Rusty had met Raul, Randy and Bobby and then, Coury and his followers, Brett and Bart. Frankly, Rusty had heard of the two friends, based on hearsay, of their bad deeds to others. Though, to see them, hard at their labor, Brett and Bart looked harmless. Having already introduced himself, Coury's son seemed as laborious as the others, even though Michael wasn't getting paid, a matter of speaking, `along for the ride.' Then Rusty thought to himself, `why shouldn't he be paid?' "Hey, Justin, can I see you for a minute?" While Coury motioned, `go, son,' the `boss' wanting to see him, Rusty sees his own father's reaction to taking a step towards management duties, adding a smile. Rusty took it as giving his approval and taking the initiative. Though, with Justin sweeping both hands off on his pants, walking towards him, Rusty did not have the attitude of a boss. Since he hadn't any `big' college degree, a piece of paper saying he was capable of dictating orders, he acts more as a buddy-to-buddy. "Say, I was thinking, Justin, if you're working here along the others, maybe you should get paid for it," and before the protests came, Justin doing it on behalf of his father, "and I don't want to hear it, that you're up for doing it just to help out your father." However, that wasn't on Justin's mind. In fact, toiling along with the others, it did come across as working into a summer position, maybe longer, "Great. I was hoping to get something for the summer, at least. Could use the tuition money for the fall." Rusty senses going at this all wrong, but rather than think of it as a failure, moves on, "College. Where have you applied?" Instead of an interview, it turns into them walking in the woods, Justin saying, "well, I haven't yet. Thought I would come up here, see what dad's doing and then go from there. How about yourself?" Having already scoped Justin out, Rusty had figured it out on his own, not any older, nor younger than himself, "same here. After I came home from boarding school, I had hoped to see where I fit in, but college was on my mind too. Though, I'm kind of in this daze, like everything changing so fast." Pulling a leaf off a bush and playing with it with both hands, Justin says, "You won't get pissed at me, if I tell you something?" "I might," Rusty smiles, "but on anyway!" "In that case," Justin moves to the side of a bush, dropping the leaf, in the event he needs to block a punch, "all I wanted to say is, to me, you don't look like a boss." Leaving a smile on his face, Justin hoped Rusty didn't think he was trying to get on his bad side or anything. Rusty, who could have a sense of humor, even though he should be on the defensive, makes an evil face, but mellows out into a smile, "truthfully, you're right. Let's just say I got `stuck with the job.' I'm not really cool with ordering around guys who, for starters, are much older than I am." "Well, sorry, but I'm kind of the type of guy who speaks my mind. I know, some times it gets me in a heap of trouble." Then, like they were on topic, "my interest is in my guitar, writing songs and then getting up on the stage and singing them. I don't suppose there's an angle to that?" Turning official on Justin, now that they were walking the woods again, "Not which I can think of. What else interests you?" "Well," Justin turns back around, from where they came, seeing his dad and the others as `tiny bugs' in the distance, "I could work with my dad and his prisoners, but..." It drew laughter from Rusty, "prisoners? I don't think that's what they call it. More like rehabilitation." Seeing it Rusty's way, Justin smiles, finding it a little extreme, "Yeah, I guess. Other than my guitar, maybe I'd be good at working in the kitchen or setting tables in the dining room or wherever people eat?" "Um?" It stifled Rusty. "Uh, y'see, when the cabin came down.." "Came down?" Justin made it known he didn't know what the hell Rusty was talking about. "Long story," he cut to the chase, "we don't have a dining room." "Where are you going to feed your hands?" Rusty, knowing what Justin means, holds up his hands, saying, "my hands don't eat!" It was funny to Justin, putting a hand over his face as he laughs, "I fell right into that one, didn't I?" His other hand he had put on Rusty's shoulder. Rusty liked the feel of it, lingering. He didn't think he was `that' riotous, "lame, I know," he humbles himself, "but truthfully, I don't know much of what's going on around here. My dad, if you don't know, is Marco Veneziano?" "Nope. Didn't know, but now I do!" Going into the woods, the two were employer and wannabe employee. Now, that had worn off and their talk more casual. "It's a long story. Imagine, coming back from boarding school and finding out your dad isn't really your dad, but that the town lawyer is!" "Really?" their walk opens up to the lake. "Yeah. Big surprise," Rusty says, following Justin over to a rotted out tree, now a log, the tree having keeled over and died. Both sit, Justin saying, "I can't imagine. I mean, I know it was like, a big surprise to me, a kid, parents divorce...oh wait, I mean, separating. They weren't married to begin with." That's how it went, sitting there on the log for a whole half hour, the two trading off family stories of what has been. "I'd say we have a lot in common." Justin agrees. Then, with nothing much else to talk about at this time, Rusty says, "we better get back." "Yeah," Justin agrees, but couldn't move his butt off the log. Rusty stood, which blocked Justin's view of the lake. It was that kind of moment, something catching Justin's attention. "Uh," he smiles, "the lake has a nice view out here, don't you think?" Conscious of it, Rusty replies, "oh, am I blocking your view?" He steps aside. "Nope!" Justin turns his head, following Rusty's hips. "I can see just fine!" Then it became a game, Rusty jumping to Justin's right, his left, back to the right...left again. "Oh man," Justin stops, puts a hand to the back of his neck, "I think I've dislocated something!" They were laughing, when Coury appears, saying, "I though I saw a rabbit over here. Came to check to make sure you two were keeping out of trouble!" Whether it was right or wrong for a son to lust after his own father, Justin thought it was beautiful, the way his dad's shirt was parted down the front. A grand arrangement of hair paved over the chest, a stripe dividing muscular abs, a deep innie and treasure trail, all sweaty and the sun causing particles to shimmer. For Rusty, the story wasn't much different. Contrary to his smooth self, it was a big turn on, which if Justin were taking in the lake view at this minute, might be able to pick up on something! Not getting a reaction out of the two 19-year olds, Coury delivers his message, "Marco sent me over to tell you, if you want some pizza, you better get back to camp!" Then he left. Probably as manner of getting even, but not really thinking Justin would, Rusty says, "now don't be mad at me, but I think your dad is real hot!" Thinking Rusty could keep a secret, Justin had to admit it, "yeah, I know. What a shame, huh?" "About what?" Rusty questions. "That he's my dad and not fair game, eh?" Both agreed, forgetting about stuff, like the view of the lake, arm over arm, marching back to the camp. Thinking they would have to make the trip back up the lane, to the main road, then down the hill to the ranch, Rusty and Justin were surprised to find 3 guys, mile-piled with pizza boxes, walking in from the road. A big `bear-of-a-man' was carrying an ice chest. Rusty exclaims, "do you see what I see?" "Beer?" Justin guessed. "No, you noob, a bear!" "That's what I thought you meant," Justin lies, "yeah, I'm into bears...or I would like to be!" Rusty was about to joke, he'd like to find himself `into' the a man, but more muscle, less chubbiness. Michael shows up, "here, I saved us a pizza." He eyes up Justin, like he was moving in on his `territory'. However, Justin's eyes were focused on more than the beer chest. Rusty, notices Michael's eyes working Justin over, "Interested?" Gazing back and forth, like trying to choose who, Michael says, "you've got to be kidding?" Rusty doesn't know, shrugging shoulders. He though Justin was kind of hot. But hotter were Michael's big, bulging pecs! Then Michael realizes, no way, was Justin trying to cut into his action. To make sure, he says, "that's Antonio Lombardi. His old man own's the only pizza parlor in town, but Tony hates working there. His old man is a real ball buster." "Really?" Justin stares at Tony, who has been approached by Marco. "Yeah. Treats him more like a slave than a son, or even like one of his workers. Pity the old man is a fuckin' homophobe!" "Oh? He's gay? Who woulda thought?" Michael replies. However, Rusty has the insight to see right through Michael! Michael sweetens the pot, "yeah, not to mention, single." "Hey, would you mind," Justin's throat suddenly feels parched, "if I went and got a beer?" He didn't wait for the go ahead, except Michael saying, "no problem. Get 2 or 3!" "You're so cruel!" Rusty attacks with a smile. "What'd I do?" "Getting the poor boy drunk, so Tony can take advantage of him?" Anyone would think, by Michael's robust chest, the whole fifty yards of a muscleman posture, that the voice would be deep, a basso rendering, however, it's one of the thinks lacking, which turned Rusty on, the lisp! "Whatever do you mean?" "Are you going to stand there and hold that pizza all day?" They went off to `the log', which turned into a table, multitudes of guys straddling it like a midsection! Meanwhile, walking up to Antonio, speaking with Marco, he boldly interrupts, "Hi. I'm Justin. Coury, over there, is my dad. Got any beer?" Now Marco, who had already spoken to Coury, had thought Justin was getting friendly with one of his `prisoners,' concludes, "You think about it, Tony." Butting right into Antonio's business, "Oh, it's Tony, is it?" Casing Justin, like a nude statue, Antonio rebukes, "who are you?" Justin had to research, his brain, making sure he already had introduced himself, but regardless, not wanting to start any confrontations with the hot bear, "Justin. That's my dad over there sitting on the log, third dude from the right." Unknown to Justin, other than Marco talking up a job in the kitchen, when it gets set up, Antonio had quizzed him about the third man on the log, "your dad, huh? He gay?" Justin just wondered, about Antonio's stare, a beam of invisible light, focused across the way. He was desperate, "Oh no, my dad is as straight as they come!" "Really?" Antonio switches rather abruptly, staring into Justin's face. Then, without hesitation, "help yourself with the beer. I gotta talk to Marco." Justin froze, biting a lip. Hard. Watching Antonio stomp the ground, making a beeline for Marco, he wondered if he went too far. Then, the worst case scenario filled his mind, Antonio more than punching the ground on the return trip. He just pictured the two fists coming together, warming up for a round of wrestling, or worse, boxing. He decided to go check on his dad, see how he's doing! Marco had some defending himself, both hands up, while being backed up to a tree, "I swear, Tony. We're both Italian. Would I lie to you?" Not only Italian, Marco had known Antonio's father since he came into town and set up the pizza shop. He was there with Mama Rosa, when Antonio's mother was giving birth. It's a shame his mother didn't stay long, but that was between the parents. Though, being Antonio's godfather, he's been there for the 27-year old, especially when he came out to his father. That was a scene Marco didn't want to become involved in, but when Antonio's father remarked, `it a sin for an Italian to be a homosexual', well that was the pin that burst his balloon. It's also the same day Antonio's father told Marco, he was no longer a godfather! No way was his Antonio having that influence in his life. Antonio's father had heard about a way for a homosexual to be taken out of a person and wasted $5000 to bring a group from Oklahoma to wash his son clean. Right after he paid them, he never saw them again and still had a gay son. It was also the first time Antonio disrespected his father, let him have it both barrels. However, he regretted blowing up at his father, because he would have nowhere to go. Well, he could have gone to Marco, but still, how many times would he run into his father, in such a small town? So, he stayed, but the relatively month since he's come out, life at the pizzeria has been hell. Right now though, his pride was not on the line, except taking Marco's word on something which was not true. Using his hefty bod as a battering ram, Antonio had Marco pinned to the tree, in his face, "liar! You told me he was gay." He backs down, with Marco saying, "Y'know, I don't care if you're father excommunicated me from the Lombardi family. A title is not important, Tony. What is, is family and I don't care if your father tears up a piece of paper, I'm still your godfather and I would never lie to you!" Backing down, backing off, Antonio giving Marco some breathing space, crotch room, he says, "then why would Justin tell me something like that?" Placing a confident hand on Antonio's shoulder, Marco consoles, "Tony, I can tell you this, like I've said, you're like a hundred more times smarter than your old man. I mean, $5,000 to change you from being a homo?" Previously, they had joked about it. It wasn't Marco, nor Antonio who were out of the money, so they could laugh, which is why they were both not feeling any animosity, "I know. No disrespect towards my own father, but it was a stoopid-ass thing to do." "Well, that's under the bridge. Now you have to think about yourself, that's why you're a stoopid fool, Tony, if you don't see what's happening here?" "What am I not seeing?" "Think about it, Tony. Here you are, this big, hunk of a man and compare yourself to Justin's father?" "Yeah?" Antonio looks over to the log full of men. "I still don't see what you're seeing?" "Maybe telling you in Italian would work." "Nada. Remember? My father never taught me any Italian." "Okay, so here's the way it goes. Justin thinks you're hot on his father and he's only trying to make it look uninviting to you." "Oh my god!" Antonio's jaw hung open for a sec. "I can't believe I didn't see that coming!" "Not which I wouldn't mind having my godson hookup with a bear, like Coury Gendreau!" "But I wasn't even thinking it," Antonio claims. "Then you better do something about it." Rusty on courtships, Rusty backed down, "or maybe..." "Oh no you don't. It's not your old man, talkin' lies here. Does Justin appeal to you?" Like a whining baby, Antonio says, "you know I like skinny guys." "Well, there's a start. Tell you the truth, the way Justin looks at you, trust me, there's a connection to be had." "He did act very friendly." "Friendly, Tony? He was probably aching to get his lips in those pants and start sucking away!" "Really?" "Really. So, walk over there and before he can get anymore bad impressions...give him a big bear hug!" Dropping his hand off of Antonio's shoulder was enough of hint. Though, Antonio wasn't sure of this, but Marco's words had hit home. If he wanted something, even though at the time not lustful intent, he had to apply himself. Approaching Justin from the rear, he took Marco's suggestion literally, clamping arms around Justin, like roped to a tree. "What tha..." Justin looks down at the hairy forearms, the white pizza uniform, asking, "is that you, Tony?" Thinking quick, all Tony could think of, "I was wondering why you didn't invite me over to have pizza and beer with your friends?" "Um, great," Justin really felt it so, "but if you don't stop choking the living daylights outta me, my pizza and beer is gonna wind up some `real' bear's supper!" "Oh. Really. I'm sorry," Tony releases his prey. "No problem," Justin turns around. Checks. He thought maybe he felt a twig sticking him about the butt. His answer came rather quickly, truthfully, "sorry about that too." So, that's how Justin and Tony began their relationship. Even though Tony could have gone for a blow job, Justin wanting his ass rammed, it wasn't the ideal place, nor time. Regardless, Tony was quick to inform, "by the way, Marco found me a job in the kitchen here, soon as they erect the tent." "Erect a tent, eh?" First Justin laughs, Tony getting it, "yeah, just like mine!" "Really?" Justin jokes, "The tent is that big?" Incognito, away from the others, where they could not be overheard, they could be seen, so Justin refrained from making the tent bigger than what it was. "Oh, this is small for me." "Watch what you say. I don't want to cream my pants!" The next thing which cinched it, Tony feeling it was meant to be, he and Justin making a connection, was when he told Tony he was going to be working the kitchen and dining hall, soon as it got built. It seemed to work out perfectly. His dad, Brett and Bart were staying out in the woods, working and sleeping, which freed up the cabin. "That's just great. This means I don't need to ever show my face at the restaurant, but presents a problem." "What's that?" Justin replies. "I'm going to be unemployed until they `build' the kitchen tent." "No problem. There's no mortgage on the cabin. My dad owns it free and clear, but if you're thinking `rent', we can work on the barter system!" Tony got the message, true and clear, "can I start paying you tonight?" % Marco was pressed to leave, but he couldn't. Hustling over to the ranch area, he had to supervise the areas where the kitchen tent would be situated, along with the dining area. These were huge, almost circus tent size, which arrived on flatbed trucks. With regard to that, he had to send Rusty into town, to pickup the new ranch foreman, arriving on the bus. "Who am I looking for?" "A Jude Clayton. He's about 6-feet tall and...and I don't know anything else. I got his info from a good friend in Seattle. In fact, I haven't a picture, but just the go ahead, he's going to be good for the ranch." "Really? No picture? Like, how am I supposed to recognize him?" "Make one of those signs up they use at the airports...I don't know. Use your imagination. You better get going. The bus is due in any minute." "Thanks for the longterm warning, pops!" Cheerful about it, Rusty hated to leave, with almost the constant erection. "Where you going?" There, the lisp. Without even turning around, Rusty could tall who was behind his back. But he was polite, instead of talking to a tree, "Hi Michael. I'm going into town to pick up the new foreman." "Great. I'll go with you." "Really?" Rusty was appalled by Michael picking up and leaving the work party. "Sure. Marco said, if you needed anything, to be there for you. You need me, right?" It made Rusty smile, over a couple of things. First, it looked to him like a setup, but the setup, since it involved Michael, he didn't mind at all. "I need you, do I?" "Yeah, if you don't me saying?" Folding arms over his pecs, tucking fingertips into his pits, Rusty says, "It wouldn't be you're crazy about me and don't want to let me out of your sight?" Right off, Michael knew Rusty was onto him, "it might be?" The face of an angel, how could Rusty put the man off, "come along, `con artist'!" "Con artist? Me? How could you ever think such a thing!" Walking out to the road, the emblemed truck was there, which could tell anyone it belonged to the boss of Cleg's Ranch. To make conversation for the ride into town, Rusty says, "Soon as things start coming together, Marco wants me to get a new truck, but I'm kind of used to this one." "Marco? Really?" "What do you mean?" "He's your father. Shouldn't you be calling him, `father' or `dad'?" It made Rusty giggle, "you're telling me the same thing Jordan told me." "Who's Jordan? Not a past, present or future boy-interest?" Rusty hints, "have you always been this jealous?" "Jealous? Me? I haven't a jealous bone in my whole skeletal frame!" Rusty stops the truck, right in the middle of Mountain Rd., putting it in park. "Isn't the bus station down the hill, in the middle of town?" It was, but that wasn't Rusty objective, loosening his seat belt, leaning over, grabbing Michael by the back of the neck, pressing lips together. It was short, sweet, to the point. "There. Now don't ask me anymore silly questions about dudes and getting all jealous on me!" "No problem," Michael acts, like not getting enough of it, wanting to absorb all of the kiss on his tongue. The rest of the way down the mountain, Rusty wore a smile. He felt good about himself. Why not, when he's hooked a drop-dead, gorgeous muscle-man, with big, hairy pecs! Pulling into town, the bus was right on schedule. Only thing, it was empty. They checked in the station. No passengers had lingered. "Strange," Michael says, "I feel like I'm in the twilight zone." "Are you kidding? I love watching the reruns." More important than Tv, Michael and Rusty were at whit's end, searching inside the station, outside and turning up empty-handed. Across the street, in front of the Open Door Cafe, a u-Pick-up-and-Truck truck was parked. Again, thought buzzed in Rusty's mind, "I wonder if Marco got his messages straight. Was the foreman arriving at the bus station, or was he meeting us at the bus station?" "Hmm," Michael thought on it, saying with that lisp again, which tickled Rusty, "thinking about it, I think he said `at' and not `on the bus...I mean off the bus'." "I think we should check out." He didn't wait for Michael's response, Rusty stepping lively across the street. Running after Rusty, Michael is shouting, "would this constitute as our first date?" Rolling his eyes, Rusty thought of it as lunacy, but then again, wasn't it he who issued the first kiss? It was his own fault! Going to open the door, the glass and wood frame came back at him. "Well, hello there! Aren't you the Cleg kid?" Rusty had remembered, in a letter Tim sent, which was not frequent, that Jake Beam had a new partner, both in his personal life and business. Though, this was not new news, his father, telling him about the unfortunate situation, which was one Marco could not fix. There had always been this friction between Marco and Jake Beam, since opening the lumberyard in about 30 years ago. A young attorney starting out, when Jake came to town, it was Jake's opinion, in a small town, laws could be bent, or on the extreme end, broken. Call it providence, Marco became a hero, pulling out statutes and laws, at a town meeting, which curtailed much of what Jake Beam hoped to accomplish. In addition to a lumber business, Jake hoped to establish the town's first gay night club. Secretly, he had planned turning sex into dollars, but to the community he proposed plans which would be a typical club, dancing, drinks, plenty of security and curtailed hours of operation. Marco, a noob to the community as well, did retain friends after leaving the service, army buddies, who were now scattered all over the world. One such bud, in Seattle, gave him the heads up on Jake Beam, appearing to be a mild-mannered business man, when behind the scenes, he was a total different frame of mind. Well, Marco became a hero of the community, the night club shot down, after exposing Jake's real plans. Unfortunately, Marco had to always watch his back, but it seemed Jake remained dormant in both plans and developing them. Thinking Jake changed, Marco saw his business soar, especially after the wild tornado which swept through, on a night, in April of 1986. A structure not built of mortar or brick, was wiped from the face of the earth. With quick-thinking, most of the town huddled in an old abandoned bomb shelter, under the high school. However, there was much loss to livestock, especially horses, staple for the town. A feather in Marco's cap, he also used the disaster to bolster up his own business, seeing to it residents received disaster relief funds. His army buddies rallied to help with the cleanup. One of his army buds owned a horse ranch, donating some of his stock, to the Cleg ranch, the only ranch around at the time. >From then on, townspeople looked up to Marco. As for Jake Beam's business, there was no Home Depot in a country setting, so no other alternative could be found, but `Beam's Lumber'. In the face of disaster, people have a tendency to forget past grievances. After the tornado disaster, when the town began to flourish with new life, Marco had investigated something his army buddy had told him about Jake. Sure enough, even though Jake didn't get his permit to build a gay night club, something shady was going on, behind his lumber business. With the storm, many properties had been left in shambles. It was too much for some to rebuild. Jake Beam took the opportunity to purchase one such lot. With several acres, he built a structure exactly in the middle of the property, in the shape of a barn. He claimed he was setting up a horse farm, raising horses for future competitive animals. Instead, on many nights of the week, there was more breeding than horses going on! Perhaps it was a mistake on Marco's part, seeing no real harm in this, the first time he infiltrated the structure, sending one of his army buddies in, undercover. When his buddy returned, in the early hours of the next morning, it's all Marco could do to keep from shooting his load. In fact, he had to resort to his load going down his army buddy's throat! Regardless, Marco thought it not so bad, to turn an eye, when his buddy convinced him, it might not be a bad place to hold an army reunion! That was way back then and true to his buddy's words, Jake Beam's behind the scene gay club, has not been a burden to the community. He even respects the man...to a certain degree. When it surfaced, again through one of his army friends, of some under-the-radar evil doings, it piqued Marco's interest, finding out how it occurred, Jake changing the name of his lumber business to `Post & Beam'. How it all came about, Jake had been in Seattle on business. His occasional trip found him on the rounds, traveling from gay night club to the next. According to Marco's buddies, Jake was searching for dancing boys for his night club. This is where the shady part came in, Jake making some young guy get in over his head, buying Jake drinks. When Jake bailed the kid out, it wasn't for nothing and soon a guy would come out to live on his farm, working to repay his debt. It was a scam Marco didn't find out, until Jake's club had been going full force. Periodically, Marco would send in that same army buddy, simply because he was in town, doing some `horse business.' From one of the boys his buddy bedded, he found out how the 19-year old got there. On that occasion, Marco's buddy felt sorry for the kid, who was quite good looking also, `had a big dick!' So, he `stole' him, having him right outside in his truck! Marco sent his buddy home, `pronto!' >From then on, Marco did not really want to become involved in a full scale investigation. He had many little legal matters to attend to, being the only lawyer in town, not committed to corporate accounts. He let `the other attorney' handle stuff like that. Regardless, times change and apparently Jake Beam tired of the night club business. His real source of income, the lumber business was expanded to include farm equipment and things pertaining to construction. He even had a little installment business set up on the side. Since Jake Beam's name was no longer on the deed to `Barn Dance,' a legal night club, no longer catering to just the `gay' population, Marco thought it not a threat to his wellbeing to check it out. Things did check out, until he caught two men talking up `the Club', which met in the basement of the barn, in a secret room behind the liquor stockroom. Getting the scoop on that, he found his way to the stairs. It was security patrolled, but the guard let him through with no question, having known the lad's family and how they would hate to know their son was a security guard for a place which garnered to such a lewd kind of... Before Marco lay out the whole idea, the door was open for him to venture inside. What he found was appalling, for the fact it could be kept hidden. However, his loins also felt `moved', for the kind of activity. Right off the bat, having walked down the stairs, he entered what looked like a dressing room, or rather an `undressing' room. Racks of clothing stood, properly numbered with tickets. There to greet him were two young dudes, looking to be in their 20's. Nude, from head to toe, they descended on Marco like vultures. "Welcome to the club, sir." Well, certainly, Marco enjoyed the courtesy, two hot guys stripping him of his clothing. He loved the hands on activity and the occasional tasting of the nips on his bold chest, "you two boys really know how to treat a master!" "For the right price, there could be much more!" However, Marco had to remind himself, he was there to snoop! "Maybe another time, boys. It's my first time and I came to check the place out." They knew Marco didn't have any place to stash their business cards, so told him they would be in his suit pocket! Another door brought Marco into a world he was accustomed. No one wore any clothing, except leather, many harnesses over chests, some with leather pants, minus the cock-coverup. There weren't many whom he knew as the `dominant top,' but there were tons of guys who wanted to be mistreated. The array of club-goers had most wanting to be used as sex-toys, forced to suck, or fat shafts forced into tight asses. He was amazed at the tight security, guards with masks, harnesses over hairy or smooth, muscled bods, chaps, with long dicks hanging out. "Hey, Marco!" Behind one of the masks there lurked someone he knew apparently, but couldn't make out the voice. However, looking down and seeing the fat dick, it was def, the guy who pumped gas at the new service center, "Harry, is that you?" Chortling, Harry says, "I see you recognize me from our private little parties?" "Right, but I haven't seen you in a long time...I guess I know why!" With others behind Marco, Harry whispers in Marco's ear, "I can't talk now. I'm supposed to ask you a bunch of questions, but I think I already know the answers!" Marco was allowed in, through the next door, without 20 questions. It was a short hallway, 6 rooms and then an emergency exit, which emphasized, `Emergency Only!' in block lettering. Before he got too far, Harry sticks his head in through the connecting door, "Oh, I forgot to mention. It's first come, first served!" Noticing door no. 3 open, all the other doors closed, Marco steps in. With entering the downstairs club for the first time, walking in the `special' entertainment section, he was greeted the same. Affixed to an X-shaped restraining apparatus, Marco is greeted by a hot lad, "Oh good. I thought I would be hanging around all night and not see any action!" "Yeah, me too," Marco shifts around, to be greeted by a second dude, tied eagle-spread to a table. Immediately, after closing the door, Marco was in his element. The dude on the `X', says, "first time?" "Yes?" Marco wondered. "Before you closed the door, you have to signify whether you mind another `master', helping you to work us over." Opening the door, to `fix' his request, he's confronted by a burly looking bear, "Oh good. Mind if I join you?" Really, Marco didn't mind having 2 to himself, but the other top dude looked kinda hot, "not at all. Come on in." Come to find out, the bulky, 6'4 master-hunk was a friend of his army buddy, Robert! "So, have you been here before?" Robert asks Marco. "No. Not sure I would end up here. I didn't know they had a downstairs club, if you know what I mean?" With confidence, Robert says, "Well, I come here every time I'm here on business. In know these two. They can take a lot, right boys?" `Yes, sir,' each reply, uttering the utmost courtesy. Walking over to the dude on the `X', cock hanging down between his legs, Robert grabs it up, "and they also know, if they don't behave they're going to be punished, right boys?" Under slight duress, Robert's hand sliding off his dick, clinching his balls, "that's right, uh, sir." Then it stimulates Marco tremendously, wanting to get on with it, Robert bending over and servicing the boy's balls! The boy is in immense pleasure-pain, Robert squeezing between cock and sacs, making them bulge and proceeding to lick them. Too big to fit one in his mouth, he tries sucking on one. Tired of being left out of the action, Marco goes to the boy on the table. This made Robert, peeking out of one eye, stop, unhand the lad, "Uh, if you don't mind, I'd like to switch with you?" Now, he could have cordially given up the muscled, blond lad, stretched out like a rack, but put on airs instead, "Fuck you, this one's mine!" Maybe he thought Marco, being new to the Club, a pushover, which, regarding his size, head almost touching the ceiling, he could easily overpower the man-bear, "no problem." Marco loved it...maybe he'd be pleasured by more then 1 or 2 fucks for the evening. Not ready for some S&M action, Marco climbs onto the table, ordering, "open up, boy!" Stuffing his cock into the boy's mouth, he leans in, driving his steak straight in. "Yeah, you love daddy's steak, don't you boy?" Of course, the dude couldn't talk, not with his windpipe closed off. Marco was more than ecstatic, that he had chosen the blond, able to massage his tube without passing out. Too, the lad made these low, guttural sounds, which made it sound like he was enjoying the tasty treat. At this rate, Marco would come any second, pulling out. A matter of courtesy, Marco would always ask what the boy was into. When he did, Robert calls over, "he'll take whatever you dish out!" Marco senses something here, like, why is Robert being so vocal. Was he looking for a fight or something. Confrontation is a strange thing. Sometimes it could irk a guy so bad, it can lead to a fight. However, Marco sensed this as something else. Hopping off the table, and keeping his 8c hard, saliva spit lubing his hand, he walks over to Robert. On his knees, Robert had been attaching a leathery gadget, with chains hanging down, around his boy's balls, separating cock from sacs. "It was nice to meet you when you came in," Marco was leading up to, "but I don't take kindly to your attitude!" Two thing could happen. One, Robert could jump up, fist connecting between his legs, making Marco suffer something fierce, or... "Sorry, sir," Robert wears a smile, "I didn't mean to upset you or anything?" Right there, a new scenario unfolds, or perhaps what was supposed to commence from the beginning, Marco responding, "well you `did' cause me grief, boy, so it's only fair you be treated the same!" Marco had to admit, he hadn't used that line in a long time, but loved it right now, addressing this `master-turned-wannabe-slave.' Nothin' like taking a guy on, who's bigger, more muscly and breaking him down. "As you wish, Master Marco," he sagged on his knees. Marco figured, if Robert's been coming here for a long time, he knew the rules, `no names,' he slaps him across the face, "What the fuck did you call me, boy?" Boy? The dude was older than him, but Marco could play the part to any man. He built himself up like a tough s.o.b. army sergeant, dishing out orders with the boy on his knees wanting to obey or be punished. "Uh, yes master. Sorry sir. I know I deserve whatever punishment you deem worthy for a slave like me." `Oh man,' Marco thought, Robert wanted it and wanted it `bad.' Not out to disappoint, he went first for the psychological aspect, "Good we see eye to eye. Now, get up." Robert hustled to his feet. Marco could tell he was aching for a bruising. "Take that contraption off the boy's balls." Marco knew it was a ball gag, which Robert had yet to get to placing weights on it. Bending over, Robert's chaps conformed to shape of his ass, which made Marco's balls churn. "Good boy. Now, untie this boy," Marco nods to the dude attached to the X. "Yes, sir," Robert knew the protocol, expecting to be tied up there himself, so hustled with the rope bindings. "Whew," the boy coming off the frame, says in relief, working his arms around in a circle. He stops abruptly, arms stretched out to his side, "oops, I guess I should've asked for permission to do that, huh, sir?" "Relax, soldier," Marco smiles at the dude's cuteness. "What's your real name, or the name you're using tonight?" "Permission to whisper in your ear, sir?" Marco lends an ear, saying, after the whispering, "I see. Well, `Slade', why don't you make Robert your sexslave...and don't back down to anything, and I'll take care of `blake'." Slade couldn't get over how things were turning out. Versatile, at doing stuff at `the Club', he mostly worked there as a top. Upon hearing two hot tops were at the Club, he and his friend, `Blake', who's real name was Thomas, his, Chad, planned on a night of hot, oral work. However, they both knew things could change at the drop of a hat, which is why now, he had Robert up on the footings of the frame, and tying him eagle-spread. "On second thought," Marco starts untying `Blake', "why don't we make it a gang-rape!" Okay, so Blake/Thomas, no matter if at the Club, or home with Chad, he was a glorified bottom. He loved the role so much, taking on any portion of a man's bod, with the will towards total servitude. Since Slade was appointed Marco's equal, "right, but Blake likes it when he's on his knees a lot!" Marco was getting an idea here, thinking, "well okay," he figured it out as he went along. As it turns out, there was much more sexual activity going on, than what the Club was branded for, S&M events. Slade got his due, strangling Robert's balls with the ball gag and then adding some weight. He did feel the need, while Blake kept Robert's cock nice and stiff, to offer payback to Marco and since Blake's mouth was busy... "Oh, that feels so, so good, Chad," Marco's hand was on his head. Popping off, Chad says, "it's Slade, remember?" Taking Marco's shaft back in to the hilt, "oh. Right." Not much else was said, not with Slade's mouth filled. Marco, he lost attention in what Blake was up to with Robert, but was startled back to life, "huh?" Cute as a button, Blake says, "I hope you don't mind, that I started getting dominant on Robert. I was going to order him...to do something." He could tell, Thomas not really into the master-slave jargon, "well, what are you waiting for?" For the next hour, it became a switch off, but Blake the main cocksucker. Marco did make sure Robert `got his due', not only sucking cock, but also licking right up his ass crack and tasting his musky pits. He did get off, watching Slade and Blake get it on, as did Robert, but then had to discipline, "you dare touch yourself without permission, boy?" Truly, Robert was humiliated, bending over a table and having his bare ass whacked with a leather strap. Good thing, in real life, he didn't have a sit-down job! They did end up their evening as a `bang-gang', Blake fucking a dude for the first time, Robert, while Slade poked Blake in the ass, Marco behind Slade. Marco did show compassion, "poor Robert, with no ass to fuck!" Blake, he didn't mind reaching around Robert's hip, jerking him off. That's how Marco made new friends. Slade and Blake never used those names again, getting out of the suck'n'fuck business for pay. Now they can do it for free, Chad and Thomas working in Robert's construction business, which Marco had a hand in helping to get the funding to start up the company. However, today things don't always go along without a catch and some matters of handling things become complicated. As with the case of Jake Beam, he's an older dude, with a younger one as his partner. `Partner' used in context as a man by his side, appearing to be happily coupled. What occurred in Seattle, Jake had used the same racket, bailing Wyatt Post out of trouble deeper than a well. Jake had paid the owner of a dance club, whom had been under Jake's thumb for years, to have 2 of his bouncers take his latest mark out to the alleyway, to work off the bill for his drinks. Modest about his sadistic side, Jake waited a while, until the bouncers had had their fun. Then, like Wyatt's `white knight in shining armor', appears to rescue him from the beating. Making a story longer than it needed to be, Wyatt now works at `Post & Beam Lumber', but is not paid any money. Instead, he works off his keep with the payroll which should be in his bank account. There is a bank account, with Wyatt's name on it, but Jake made it so Wyatt would never see the money in the account. Being an upstanding attorney of the community, Marco has decided not to intervene, but that is not to say he doesn't have some of his army buddies, with FBI connections, working on freeing Wyatt. Of this story, Rusty hasn't any knowledge. To him, Wyatt, holding the door, allowing his `partner' to pass through, it looks how it looks! Though, before he left to pick up the new foreman, his father had mentioned to him that he's hired 3 new construction workers! Once inside the Open Door, Rusty didn't pick up on it, but Michael did, "something weird with that couple. I don't know what it is, but something definitely weird!" "You repeated yourself," Rusty smiles in Michael's face. "Did I? Oh yeah, I did, didn't I?" "Never mind," Rusty replies, "just look for someone who looks like a foreman...look for someone?" "Ha-ha, you're not funny!" They came in, talked with Luc for awhile, Rusty introducing Michael to him. After doing so, walking off, Rusty notices Nick coming out from the back. He could just guess, Luc running back there and telling Nick there's a `hot man' in the cafe! "I don't see anyone who fits the description." Of course, Dr. Brad had to come over and introduce himself. Rusty cordially says, "Michael, this is Dr. Brad. Careful. If he can, he'll charm the pants off ya!" Dr. Brad lived up to his reputation, until Michael said he had to go. "Thanks for pulling me off the vulture," Michael says to Rusty. Looking down, Rusty jokes, "I see you still got your pants on!" Michael sends a message, "there's only one man I'm interested in taking them off for!" "How sweet. Remember what we're here for." "I know, but I don't see anyone who could fit the description of a ranch foreman." Truthfully, along with Dr. Brad, there were other folks about the town and a few strangers. With news of the Cleg farm going under some extreme remodeling, so has people flocked to town, hoping to get in on the action. There was a woman, with two kids, whom one had gotten away from table. About 8-years old, he tugs on Michael's pants, "hey mister, you're big!" Michael says to Rusty, "I didn't think I was!" "Be nice," Rusty says to Michael, bending down. Squatting, he says, "what's your name?" "Danny." Coming down to Danny's level, Michael says, "do I still look big?" "Yep," Danny says, moving a finger along the top of Michael's tank top, "from here, all the way over to here." Michael was cute, saying, "well, if you exercise, maybe some day you can look this big, too!" "Really, mister?" `Mister' says, "yup. By the way, I'm Michael and this is Rusty." Next thing they know, the kid's brother is hovering above, "what's up, Danny?" Perhaps they have seen a muscle-dude, with fat pecs, looking like they were ready to bust out of a shirt, but not up close, "look how big he is, Davy. Michael says we can be big too, if we exersight." "Exercise," Rusty corrects him. As fate has it, their mother, who has returned form the rest room, appears in their circle, "c'mon boys. Don't bother the men." "No problem," Michael stands, saying, like he was trying to pick her up, but just being friendly. "Mom?" "What?" "Michael says we can be as big as he is, if we ever... um, what was that, Rusty?" "Exercise," Rusty says, feeling Danny's fingers wind around, into his hand. "Friendly kids you have here." "Thanks. By the way, I was supposed meet someone here, but I guess they missed the connection. Is there a taxi here, who can take me out to the Cleg Ranch?" Michael exclaims, "you're in luck, lady. This is Rusty Cleg himself!" "Hi," Rusty says, like he's embarrassed, "I'm Rusty and the guy with the big mouth, is Michael!" Which, in a comical way of thinking, short, brief, Rusty discovers something bigger than Michael's pecs! "Nice to meet you, Rusty," the woman says, "I'm Jude Clayton." As the boys played with the grooves on Rusty's authentic western wear belt, Michael and he stood there, jaws dropped open, staring and not saying a single word. Michael finally breaks silence, "you're not a fore-man, you're a fore-woman, Jude," he says it right, not like the song, `Hey Jude,' but `Ju-dee!' Panicked, Rusty says, "excuse me. I've got to make a call." Running outdoors, Rusty calls Marco on his cell. He gets Marco's answering message. The heat turned up, plus not knowing what to do, he dials the next best bet. "Kira! You got to get here quick!" She thought his pants were on fire! "No, listen..." figuring, having to explain everything to Kira in 65 words of less, it's not going to do, "there's this hot woman at the Open Door and I think you should come take...Kira? You there?" Rusty checks his cell, hung up on itself! His plan had worked, probably Kira wasting no time in getting in her truck and... Not far from the family restaurant, her truck varooms up to the curb, hood to the fire hydrant. "You're parked in a fire zone, you know?" Whizzing past Rusty, she says, "I got connections." Inside, Rusty comes across a situation. Not a bad one, he finds Jude standing at the counter, apparently waiting for something and Michael, at a table, entertaining Danny and Davy. "Well, at least you're having fun!" "Yeah, I am," Michael says, with his lispy inflection. "These guys are awesome!" Davy asks, "Michael says you're going to teach us how to ride a horse?" "Am I, now?" Rusty forgets about Jude for a moment, especially seeing Kira introducing herself. Kira, she doesn't waste time! "So, have either of you guys ridden a horse?" Rusty asks. "Only on a merry-go-round," Danny replies. "How old are you guys?" Davy handles it, "I'm 10 and Danny is 8." "But I'm almost 9. Is that old enough to ride a horse?" "Sure, but we'd have to find you a smaller horse," Rusty replies. Every now and then Rusty would look up at the counter. It was like Kira was interviewing Jude. "Hey you guys, anything else you need," Luc says, "on the house!" Rusty asks, "Does that include me?" "You," Luc replies, "the kids, your hunky boyfriend!" "Not funny, Luc," Rusty says, "we're not boyfriends." Jovially, Michael says, "we're not? Bummer!" However, it's apparent the boys are following every word, "how come you're not boyfriends, Rusty?" Davy adds to Danny's words, "our mom once had a girlfriend." That's all Rusty needed, the reason Kira and Jude were talking it up over at the counter. Soon, he knew he would find out the results of that conversation, Kira leading Jude over to the table. % Copyright 2016 T. Chase McPhee "JoLLy RaNCHeRs" and developing segments of this story, may not be sold, nor made part of any collection, without prior consent from the author, or you will be forced to your knees.