Date: Wed, 22 Jul 2020 11:37:38 +0100 (BST) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 77 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn't your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you've come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. NOTE to the reader: "Peter Brown" aka badboi666 is, as you might guess, not in the first flush of youth: indeed he is well into the you'll-die-if-you-get-this-fucking-thing age cohort. It has been his habit in all his stories published here to be two or three chapters ahead of publication. If he gets a nasty cough and a temperature he will post all outstanding chapters together with a synopsis of what is still to come. Then, if he snuffs it, you can at least have some idea of what befell Dab in the end. A bit like Edwin Dro Don't leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty - these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 77 After I had given Hamish the promised fuck I said it was time to talk. "We talked earlier," he said, surprised. "Yes, but when you get to my age you find you can do two things at once. While my cock was busy fucking you my brain was having a quiet think to itself about you and your problems." "You're weird, Dab." Jack chuckled, "you'd be surprised you many people have said that to him." "Including you on several occasions. Now be serious, the pair of you. When are you seeing Ogilvie?" "10 tomorrow. Why?" "Can you come here again tomorrow afternoon? I mean without your parents getting suspicious." "Can't see why not. They don't know I come here unless they send me with a message. They think I'm away fishing." Jack wondered whether they might think it strange that he never seemed to catch anything. Hamish was scornful. "I'm not fishing for anything you could eat, Jack, just tiddlers." "OK. Go home now and be back here at 3 tomorrow. You can tell me what Ogilvie thinks." I kissed him and with a show of reluctance he got up off the bed and dressed again. "Off you go. See you tomorrow," I said. Jack went downstairs with him and it was some minutes before Jack came back upstairs. "He loves what we do," he said, "I just hope his parents don't notice that he's grown up so much in the last fortnight. What are you planning?" "I'll tell you if it works. Tomorrow you're on your own as I have people to see." Jack knew me well enough not to waste time trying to get any more out of me. Changing the subject I asked him how he was getting on. "I've done nearly everything I can do here. I'll be finished by tomorrow night. But I need to talk to people as well," and he played me at my own game. I could guess what he needed to find out, but I didn't want to steal his thunder so I said nothing. ***** The following afternoon when Hamish came up the track and barrelled into the kitchen I put a beer before him. "I've earned this," he panted. It was even hotter than it had been the day before, and a storm wasn't far off. He swallowed half the beer. "Ogilvie said that I can defer land-service until I'm 16 provided I stay at school. That's a new thing, apparently, because a lot of boys of 15 were not strong enough or something, and the farmers and people paying them got stroppy and said they needed proper workers who - and this is what Ogilvie said - wouldn't fall down and wet themselves at their first encounter with exhaustion. You and Jack exhaust me, but I haven't wet myself - well I have, of course, but only because you want me to. Can we wet ourselves again?" and he swallowed the rest of his beer." "Doesn't your mother smell the beer on you when you get home?" He shrugged. "I don't suppose she'd mind too much as long as I'm not stotious." This was a new one. "Explain." "Drunk." You learn something every day, I thought. "Where's Jack?" "Out somewhere. He'll be in soon - he knows you're coming." Hamish smiled happily. "I've news too. I've been talking to the local cops about you. Well, not about you personally - I didn't say your name. What is your name anyway? I only know the Hamish bit." "Hamish Gunn." "Well, Hamish Gunn, I asked at the police station about the conditions in Scotland for land-service. I told them who I was and that I planned to have a lot of work done in the land round Inverthrum. I wanted to know how the system worked up here. I told them I was familiar with the English system, but I knew nothing about up here." "You played the daft laddie, you mean." That seemed a good description. "What did they say?" "They gave me a leaflet, but I got the impression that they knew about as little as I did. I was obviously the first person who'd asked." I gave him the leaflet. It was quite straightforward. A land-service boy (or girl) had to be 16, had to be employed by a registered land-service employer, had to have a land-service contract for a minimum of 12 months, had to work an average of 35 hours a week, and had to be paid not less than the appropriate figure from a long list of different criteria. Hamish read it carefully. "Does this cover you employing me?" I nodded. "But whether I employ anybody depends on Jack's report, and whether his boss thinks it makes sense." "What do you think, Dab?" .I've no idea, Hamish. Jack is here to do a job of work for me. He knows far more about this kind of thing than I do. It's not a game we're playing. Upstairs is one thing; out in the garden it's all business." That was when Jack appeared and grabbed a beer. "Hello Hamish. I'm finished, Dab. All I have to do now is see someone and write it all up. We'll sort out about seeing someone later." Evidently this was not something to be discussed in public. I turned to Hamish. "Can you bear it if I ask you to bugger off home now? I've a good reason for asking, I promise. I'll zip you tonight and let you know if it'll be OK for you to visit us tomorrow afternoon, and if it is I promise we'll go upstairs." His dismay at being dismissed was soon supplanted with the prospect of a proper session tomorrow. "OK, Dab. I'll see you both then," and away down the track he went. "You're being very mysterious," said Jack. "As are you. Who are these `people'?" "I've got to talk to someone - I've no idea who - who knows about fruit and vegetable crops here. What grows and what doesn't. I can do the soil chemistry, but there's much more to it than that. Climate, wind, all kinds of things." "I think that shouldn't be too difficult. Go and shower and put on something decent and we'll go into Lairg." While he wax upstairs I consulted the local phone listing. I couldn't see anything useful, but I was fairly sure that in a small place like Lairg the village shop would be a useful repository of local knowledge. When Jack and I went in the shop was quiet and Hamish's mother was on her own. I managed to avoid calling her Mrs Gunn (for of course I didn't know her surname officially) but I explained our need for horticultural advice. She said that we should go and talk to her friend Mrs McCallum, and gave us directions. "Tell her Rose Gunn sent you," she said. Mrs McCallum appeared unfazed by a visit from such a strange pair as us. On hearing that Rose Gunn approved of us she welcomed us in. Tea and scones appeared, and I told here who we were and what our need was. "Och, I know fine who you are, and I'm pleased that Inverthrum will be lived in again. When I was a wee girl I used to sneak in and play in the grounds. That would have been seventy and more years ago. The third earl had it then." I explained that Jack had questions and that Mrs Gunn had told us that she would know all the answers. She chuckled. "Aye, well, I'll do my best. Ask away, Jack." Jack, who had hardly said a word, came out of his shell and asked very detailed questions from his notebook. I could tell that Mrs McCallum went from being superior, if friendly, to impressed at the sort of things Jack was asking. He had assumed that if she was the person to whom these questions should be put then he should treat her as an intellectual equal and just plunge in. I was much amused, and to my delight I watched at Mrs McCallum started to warm to her interlocutor. After half an hour and another scone Jack pronounced himself finished. "Thank you," he said, "I think I understand what's possible." Mrs McCallum chuckled again. "You mind and tell Rose Gunn that I enjoyed being made to think so hard." We went back to Mrs Gunn to thank her. "Was she able to tell you what you needed to know?" I assured her that Jack had received answers to all the questions he has asked, "and there were plenty of them." I made an instant decision. "When you sent Hamish up with details about the garage we had a talk about what he wants to do now that he'll soon be 15. Apparently he was to see a teacher about his choices." "Aye. Mr Ogilvie. He's seen him, and the poor boy is afraid he'll have to do National Service. His father and I are worried too, but I expect all parents feel the same." I told her that I was a land-service registered employer, and I pointed to Jack. "He works with the gardener at home, and we're up here so that he can do a report on Inverthrum, as I told you. Would it be possible for me to talk to you and your husband about Inverthrum before we go back south again?" She seemed surprised, but said that she would ask her husband when he got in from work. I thanked her again - Jack had said nothing throughout - and we went back up the track. "What was that all about?" "Can't you guess? If Hamish is going to come here to play - or even to work - it makes sense if his parents get to know me as a potential employer. No-one likes the idea of Hamish in an army uniform." Jack and I were still eating when Hamish appeared yet again. "What are you cooking up with my parents?" "Why? Are you here to tell me about a meeting?" "Aye. I'm to tell you that 11 tomorrow morning is convenient. Dad's shift doesn't start till the afternoon and I'll have to cover for Mum in the shop. It's OK, I've done it before. It's not as though we were ever all that busy." "Tell them I'll be there, and be sure to thank them for being so quick." "Talking of being quick," said Jack, "do you fancy ten minutes upstairs?" Ten minutes stretched to fifteen. I thought it best not to put Hamish in too high a state of excitement, so I merely sat in an armchair and watched the two of them 69ing. Hamish certainly came in Jack's mouth, for Hamish made no effort to conceal his cock's performance, but I didn't think Jack had come. Still, that didn't matter as we had all night to deal with his need. Hamish got dressed again. "Do I look presentable?" he said. I said it was more a question of whether he smelt presentable, and I assured him that as he had come where he had there was no risk of any tell-tale scents to alert Authority. He grinned. "I like coming here," he said. Two minutes later he was away on his bike, leaving Jack (still naked) and me to our own devices. Although it was nothing like dark I decided to join Jack in his nakedness, and I took Hamish's place in the 69. This time Jack came gloriously, as did I a few minutes later. As we were lying together afterwards Jack looked at me. "Are you really going to get him here to work?" "I don't know. I'd like to. He's a nice kid and he's fun in bed. Whether he's be any good on land-service is a different question. That's what I want to see his parents about. Now let's make the most of the other things in here." Together we put the sling together. It was a more luxurious one than we had at home, and must have cost Seb and Dodo a fair whack, even with a staff discount. "In you get," I said. Jack shook his head. "More beer first, Dab. We want to christen it properly." Two beers each and an hour later we did just that. There is something about piss glistening on black skin that is enormously sexy. Jack felt the same, I'm glad to say. There's something about lines of spunk on the same background too. ***** The meeting with Mr and Mrs Gunn went well. Before we got down to the serious business we found out about each other. I told them who I was and the arrangements (omitting certain details) in Uttoxeter about the gardens and the other land holdings. I explained that I still had two more years at university but that I still ran the Estate, and had done following my father's death. Mr Gunn told me he had worked on the railway since leaving school. "There was none of this land-service or National Service then, thank goodness," he said, "you left school and found a job. My father had been on the railway and he pulled a string or two and got me a job at the foot of the ladder. I'd like to do the same for Hamish, but the rules nowadays don't allow it. But we mustn't waste your time," and they waited for me to say my piece. I told them about Jack and the report he was writing, and that if the report recommended it I would be turning Inverthrum to growing food crops of some kind. "It will need a lot of work preparing the ground - it's been completely neglected for decades - and then looking after whatever we decide to plant. Do you think Hamish would be a suitable boy to work there on land-service? Under someone who knows what to do, of course?" They looked at each other. "I've no idea," he said, "but if it's a choice between that and the army I don't think there's any doubt." She looked relieved. "Have you spoken to Hamish?" she asked. I shook my head. "No. I thought I should talk to you first. It wouldn't be right to get his hopes of avoiding the army up if his parents had other views." "Quite right," said Mr Gunn. "I'm on duty soon," he said, "but you have my agreement to employ him if he's suitable. Will you sort out what's needed with my wife," and he got up, shook my hand and left. "Thank you," said Rose simply, "I hate the thought of him going into the army. What will you do?" "I'd like to talk to Hamish about it. I'd like to get to know him a bit better, and for him to get to know us. Then, if he's interested and Jack's report says what I hope it will, we can meet again and make it all formal. There are forms to fill in and all kinds of nonsense." "When will you know? What should I call you anyway?" Until then we had avoided calling each other anything. "Everybody calls me Dab," I said, "unless they're being very formal. Jack and I will be going home in a few days. He will do a soil check and write his report. His boss - that's my head gardener - will go through it and she'll see if it makes sense. I've no doubt it will, but although Jack is very keen there are still things he doesn't know. I would expect to make a decision about Inverthrum in two weeks or so. I will let you know as soon as I do." We agreed that Hamish would appear that afternoon. "He does a lot of fishing, but I'm sure he can drag himself away to take about his future." This was said with a twinkle in her eye, but I had no idea whether the twinkle signified any awareness of any interest of her son beyond fishing. ***** Jack had spent the whole of that morning writing. When he gave a great cry of 'finished!' around 2 I went to see, taking him a beer and something to eat - I felt he'd earned it. "If it wasn't for Hamish," I said, "I would seal that in an envelope and made sure you gave it to Hester before I saw it. But there's Hamish to consider, and it's not fair to keep him hanging on. Tell me, are you going to encourage him or not?" "I think so, Dab. Mrs McCallum told me a lot and given the heat I reckon we could make a go of a lot of fruit - trees as well as berries - but it all depends on the soil. Still, they grow some berries here, so I'm pretty optimistic." "That's all I need - well done. Now seal it up and give to her yourself. Hamish'll be here soon." "What will you tell him?" "You'll have to wait, just like he will." Hamish appeared. The storm still hadn't broken and it must have been in the high 80s. He was pouring with sweat and I had a beer in his hand almost as soon as he was in the door. "Bring it upstairs," I said, "it's cooler there." This wasn't strictly true, but at least upstairs we could all take our clothes off and there was always the possibility of a shower. We found Jack sitting at the end of the bed. "Hello Hamish," he said, "you look knackered. I know just the way to cool you down." Hamish saw the sling. "What's that?" he said, putting his beer on the floor while he stripped. "It's called a sling," I said, "and Jack will show you what it's for." Jack made a great show of reluctance, but he too stripped (as did I) and stood in front of Jack. "This is grown-up stuff, Hamish, so let's pretend you're 15 already," I said. He grinned. "Only a few days, Dab." "Good, because I've got another present for you - a real one this time. I'll give it to you later." Hamish was no stranger to the idea that if he wanted something upstairs he just got on with it, so he knelt in front of Jack and looked up at him, all puppy-dog-eyes. "Please can I suck your cock, sir?" Jack looked down. "If you're good." "He's learned very quickly, Jack," I said, "and I reckon he's good already." Hamish reached out and drew Jack's foreskin back. I don't think he'd examined Jack's cock before: it had usually been in his mouth or up his arse - and I watched with amusement as he studied it (an amusement shared by Jack). "It's fascinating how it's pink inside, just like mine," he whispered, "I love it," and it disappeared - some of it, anyway - as his lips caressed the wet glans. Jack shuddered and Hamish, no longer a beginner, didn't draw back. His tongue bathed the under-surface of a cock rapidly hardening in his mouth. Jack bent his knees slightly. "That means you can explore his arse," I said quietly, offering him a jar of lube. He put two fingers in the jar and soon had them where Jack wanted them. "Oh fuck, Hamish, you're good at this," he sighed. Hamish's tongue had better things to do than form a reply. After a couple of minutes I put my arms on his shoulders. "Come on, we don't want him to cum just yet. It's your turn now." He stood up. I pointed to the sling. "In you get. Hoist yourself on the chains and wriggle your arse in the leather ... that's it." I lifted his ankles and put them in the stirrups. "You won't hurt me?" "Don't be daft," said Jack, "Dab wouldn't hurt anybody. Just lie back." Hamish giggled. "My arse is all exposed." "That's what the sling's for, Hamish. It makes for better fucking and if you remember where it is it makes for other things at the same time." Hamish's giggle continued. "If that means you're going to piss on me does that mean I can piss too? 'Cos the beer will want out soon." I nodded. "You can piss when you like, Hamish, and you don't need to warn anybody. Same with us." Hamish smiled. "I like it, Dab." Jack approached Hamish who grinned seductively. Jack bent forward and began to rim the boy. The boy began to moan softly. I passed Jack the lube and a finger disappeared. The moans became more insistent. A second finger joined the first and Jack found Hamish's prostate. Hamish groaned and, somewhat to my surprise, a golden arc leapt from his cock. "Oh God!" he muttered, "I can't help it." "Relax," I said, "let it out - that's why you're in there." More piss followed - a lot more - while Jack scrabbled around inside. Hamish's cock was like steel. "I've never pissed with it that hard before," he whispered. "Welcome to the sling," said Jack, keeping up his assault on the boy's prostate. All too soon a silver arc - a series of silver arcs - leapt from him. As soon as he had come Hamish - whose eyes were tight shut - felt Jack's cock thrusting into him. "Ooof! oh ... yes ... yessss," and Jack began a hard rhythmical ploughing. I went behind the sling to hold it steady. Hamish opened his eyes and smiled up at me silently. I leant over him and kissed his nose. "Enjoy it," I whispered. "I am, Dab." Jack had wisely decided that pissing up Hamish's arse wasn't something to be enjoyed on Hamish's first visit to the sling: let such joys be spoken of so that days - weeks, even - of anticipation would heighten his appetite. Jack therefore didn't hold back from his own orgasm, and as he grew more and more urgent I had to hold the sling hard against his pounding. "Ah! yes Hamish here it is," he groaned. Hamish's eyes were wide open as his arse received Jack's spunk. I was amazed that the boy could take the whole of Jack's cock so readily, for he seemed to be suffering no discomfort at all. He put out his arms and Jack lowered himself onto the boy's piss-soaked belly. After a few moments his cock slipped out - the lubrication up there was pretty efficient - and I let go of the sling and shoved him out of the way. "Oh! God, Dab, that's so hot," moaned Hamish as my lips found his still-tender arse lips. He was even more overwhelmed when my tongue went about its business of cleaning him up, so much so that he lost - or perhaps surrendered - control of his bladder again. "Sorry, sorry." "No," said Jack from behind Hamish's head, "nothing to be sorry for," and Hamish felt a stream of piss into his chest and belly coming from a cock so recently up his arse. The piss ran down onto me, of course, as Jack intended. Hamish was horrified, but only for a second. "Doesn't Dab mind?" he said softly. "No, Hamish, he loves it. We all love it, don't we?" Hamish nodded, his poor brain exhausted with all the new ideas and new erotic signals it was having to cope with. I stood up. "By the way, Hamish, I think I've got a job for you. Out you get and I'll tell you about it." =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 78 as Hamish has something to look forward to, and Jack and I go back home. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================