Date: Sun, 12 Jan 2014 09:38:48 -0800 From: Jon Hold Subject: Mr. Wilkerson Mr. Wilkerson by Jon Hold jonhold@Earthlink.net Copyright ©2012, 2014 by Jon Hold This story was inspired by the Harry Bush drawing, "Premature Ejaculation." Toby Wilks an actual, boneified Southern "Good Ol' Boy". He was also white trash. His daddy never bothered to marry his momma, although he did stop by from time to time to screw her and give her another baby. Toby's Momma wasn't what you'd call terribly bright. She raised her brood on the welfare money she collected, and a few "presents" from gentlemen visitors. She usually made the men wear rubbers, so most of Toby's flock of younger brothers and sisters were probably sired by his father. Sometimes though, Momma would get drunk and bring home three or four young guys and have a regular old gangbang. The old shack they lived in didn't have a separate bedroom. Some of Toby's earliest memories were of watching his daddy or one or more of Momma's "Friends" serving her. His daddy had a big ol' dick and Toby loved to roll out of his pallet on the floor and crawl over to the end of his Momma's bed and watch his daddy pump that big ol' thing to her. If it was real hot and sticky his daddy's balls would hang way down and Toby wouldn't be able to see much of the fucking. On nights like that he'd hold his daddy's balls up out of the way so he could see. Daddy didn't mind at all. School was pretty much a sometime thing for Toby. He spent most of the time collecting bottles and doing chores for folks for enough money to help feed his brothers and sisters. The land the shack was on was owned by the Widow Parsons, and when she died her brother, a Northerner named Mr. George Wilkerson, moved into her house. Right from the beginning he made Toby do all sorts of chores, mowing his lawn, cleaning up any messes, planting flowers, anything that would help pay the rent. Mr. Wilkerson was kind of a grouchy old man and didn't take any nonsense from Toby at all. No matter where they were, he'd pull Toby's pants down and belt his ass if Toby screwed up. Even after Toby started getting bigger and growing hair, Mr. Wilkerson would still, for even less reason, pull those pants down and warm Toby's ass up but good. Mr. Wilkerson was always showing Toby how to do stuff, and was real patient as long as the boy was trying to learn. Toby responded to Mr. Wilkerson's attention with a deep fascination and a sincere attachment to the gruff old man. Nobody else had much time for Toby and Mr. Wilkerson was actually the only one who ever paid him much never-mind. Mr. Wilkerson caught twelve year old Toby playing with his hairless willie out in one of the sheds one day and whooped his ass black and blue with a wide leather belt, telling Toby that he'd got straight to hell for playing with himself like that. After that Toby got regular lectures about the perils of self-abuse and horror stories about what would happen if he touched anyone else until after he was married. He knew his Momma wasn't married and he know how bad things were for her, so he believed Mr. Wilkerson. That Sunday Mr. Wilkerson took Toby to church and every Sunday after that Toby had to be at Mr. Wilkerson's house, clean and in his best clothes at 9 AM sharp. If Toby had to go to the bathroom when working for Mr. Wilkerson, he had to tell Mr. Wilkerson who would supervise Toby, either in the outhouse if they were outside working, or with the bathroom door wide open if they were inside. Then he'd watch and make sure Toby washed up properly. If Toby sat down, Mr. Wilkerson had to inspect to make sure the boy had wiped clean. Any infraction led to a strapping. The day of Toby's baptism, Mr. Wilkerson made the barely teenaged boy come into the house and strip off naked. he then put the boy in the big, iron-clawed bathtub and scrubbed his hide until the boy's whole body had a rosy glow. After being dried Toby had a boner that just wouldn't go away so Mr. Wilkerson put a figure-eight of cloth tape around the hard shaft and taped the protrusion down between the boys legs. Toby didn't want Mr. Wilkerson to do that, but a good belting changed his mind. Then Mr. Wilkerson held a brand new, pure white pair of Jockey shorts while Toby stepped into them. Then he pulled a new white t-shirt over the boys head. Toby was in tears. Not only was this the first time he'd ever worn underclothing, it was the first time he'd ever worn anything new. Mr. Wilkerson led him into the guest bedroom where he helped the now dazed boy put on a brand new black suit complete with black stockings and brand new shoes that Mr. Wilkerson even tied for him. While Mr. Wilkerson was dressing himself the excited boy kept tearing back and forth between being amazed at himself in the old full-length mirror and trying to thank the old man, who really just wanted to be left alone long enough to get dressed so they wouldn't be late to church. Mr. Wilkerson finally had to pull the boys brand new black slacks down. But when Mr. Wilkerson went to pull Toby's new white underpants down, they were a wet and sticky mess from Toby's excitement. Mr. Wilkerson checked to make sure the tape was still holding Toby in place and then gave the boy a good bare-handed spanking right through his prized undershorts --- which caused Toby, as he and Mr. Wilkerson were both aware, to add to the mess in his pants. Mr. Wilkerson pulled up Toby's new black slacks and fastened them for him. After checking to make sure Toby's mess didn't show through the new pants, Mr. Wilkerson took him by the hand and off to church. Toby became very dutiful about attending church every Sunday with Mr. Wilkerson. He became very conscientious about reminding Mr. Wilkerson to tape down his "thing" to ensure his not putting on an improper display while at church. I was one thing to walk around with a boner in his overalls all day while working for Mr. Wilkerson, and quite another to show wood in his Sunday best. One Sunday Toby passed gas during the sermon, seriously disturbing everyone sitting near he and Mr. Wilkerson. The following week Mr. Wilkerson inserted a large rubber plug into the quiet boy, explaining that if Toby couldn't control himself, then Mr. Wilkerson would have to help the boy control his bodily functions. From then on having his dick strapped down and his butt plugged were just part of getting dressed for church. At first Toby walked sort of funny, but he quickly adapted and Mr. Wilkerson would sit and watch him play with the other boys after services. If Toby got sweaty, which he most often did. Mr. Wilkerson would give him another bath when they returned. Toby would fart a great deal after Mr. Wilkerson removed the plug, which really wasn't very surprising considering that Ms. Wilks fed her children mostly cabbage and beans. Gradually Toby began working almost full time for Mr. Wilkerson. He studied what Mr. Wilkerson wanted him to learn to be a better worker, reading, writing, math, history, the classics. Since Mr. Wilkerson was a teacher with no intent of spoiling the child to spare the rod, Toby learned to learn quickly and accurately and to study seriously. A stranger walking by would have been surprised hearing an obviously ignorant redneck working in the garden quoting line after line of poetry, in French, or entire sections of drama in the original Greek. Mr. Wilkerson was a severe teacher, but a good one. The few times that Toby was very, very bad, like the time he got caught stealing from the hardware store, Mr. Wilkerson would take him out to the barn and strip him naked and then chain his arms to an overhead beam before spreading his legs and chaining them off to the sides. Suspended like that, just hanging there, Toby would receive punishment strokes all over his body, front and back, from a special leather strop. The boy always spent a day or two in bed after one of these punishment sessions, but would return to Mr. Wilkerson more dedicated and intense than ever. Deeply apologetic for his misbehavior. The day of Toby's eighteenth birthday he packed his few things and left, never looking back at the shack as he walked up the dirt road to Mr. Wilkerson's. He knocked on the back door and waited for Mr. Wilkerson to come say howdy. When he was invited inside, Toby put his small package of belongings on the kitchen table and turned to face Mr. Wilkerson. "Mr. Wilkerson. I done turned (you can educate a Southern boy, but you can't take the South out of a Southern boy) eighteen today, and I done left home and I ain't never goin' back. Not never. I'd be right proud if I could work for you full-time Mr. Wilkerson. I'd do whatever you told me to do and I could sleep out in the barn. I wouldn't be no trouble at all Mr. Wilkerson. and you know I'd work hard for you." George Wilkerson looked the neighbor boy over with a fresh eye. It had been a long time since the scrawny ten-year-old had first come begging at his door. Before him was an obviously well nourished, pleasant looking and athletic young man standing over six foot tall in a powerful and well shaped body. George knew that he was largely responsible for the boy's not having become one of the local lost causes, but suddenly the boy was no longer a boy, not a child to be disciplined and taught, but a young man to be trusted and employed at greater tasks than planting petunias. Narrow hips were topped by a broad chest and obviously powerful shoulders. The shaggy haircut covered a functional and well trained brain that looked out at the world, and George Wilkerson in particular, with longing. "So. You're a man today. You know that you can go off and do what ever you want, don't you?" "I wanna work for you Mr. Wilkerson. I kin be your chauffeur, or your Man Friday, or your gardner. Whatever you want me to be Mr. Wilkerson." George Wilkerson looked closely at the boy. "You're lying to me, Boy. To hell with the bullshit you've thought up. What is it you really want?" Hanging his head, on the verge of tears, Toby quietly whispered, a gentle susurious of sound barely heard, "I just want to be your boy, Sir." George looked up at the boy, half formed tears glinting behind his thick glasses. His fingertips reached up and touched the smooth cheek of the beautiful young man as his mind filled with thoughts of the only son his beloved Cora had been able to give him. Dead at seven of leukemia. His Cora following the boy soon after. Dead of a broken heart. Toby was only two days older than his own Jourdy and George suddenly realized how much he truly missed his son --- and how much this boy had been filling the empty spot. And how hard he'd been on Toby to make him the perfect child he'd imagined Jourdy would have been. Taking Toby by the hand, humbled by his sense of loss, George led Toby through the living room and into the hallway that led to the bedroom wing of the big old house. Opening the door of the bedroom across the hall from his own, George led Toby inside. The room had no personality, except a faint feminine essence in the off-white paint of ceiling and walls. in the gold leaf outlining the curves of the white French Provençal chest of drawers and the dressing table. The bed was a simple narrow couch, valenced in white with a soft blanket of the palest of robin's egg blues. The floor a simple expanse of waxed wood. Toby stood patiently as Mr. Wilkerson slowly unbuttoned his shirt and pushed it back over his broad shoulders. The old mans age-softened hands wonderingly caressed the boys hairless chest and belly. Toby sucked air but held still when Mr. Wilkerson gently played with tiny nipples. Sucked even more air when the questing fingertips pulled at the narrow line of hair that lead from his neat little innie bellybutton down into his pants. "Lay down, Boy," Mr. Wilkerson said as he ran his hands up Toby's smooth torso. "There's something I want to see. Toby grinned as he laid down. There was always something the old man "wanted to see." A surge of excitement ran through Toby's body as he realized that this was the first time he'd actually been the focus of Mr. Wilkerson's undivided attention without Mr. Wilkerson being upset with him. Mr. Wilkerson took off Toby's shoes and socks, running his hands over the boy's well-formed, slightly sweaty and very male-smelling feet. Pants were quickly shucked off, leaving the boy laying on the small bed wearing only his white Jockey shorts. Mr. Wilkerson silently stood and stripped off his own clothing until he was standing in front of Toby wearing no more than the boy was, a heavy, thick piece of meat creating a wide tube in the mans white briefs. Toby reached up and touched the bulge in Mr. Wilkerson's undershorts. Seeing the lust in the old man's eyes, Toby laid back on the bed and smiled, putting his arms behind his head and spreading his legs, making himself completely available to Mr. Wilkerson, who wasted no time running his hands all over the boys hairy legs and hairless torso, spending a goodly amount of time groping the boy and feeling him up real good. Toby responded with happy groans and a happy bone that tented his shorts and created a big wet spot surrounding his short, but very thick boytoy. Mr. Wilkerson smelled Toby's masculine musk and buried his face in the boy's armpit, licking both warm, hairy pockets spotlessly clean. The smell and taste of clean, sweaty boy flesh putting Mr. Wilkerson on the rail in a major way. Mr. Wilkerson grabbed Toby's undershorts and ripped them off as he practically drooled over the boy's hot body. Responsible for a growing youth, Mr. Wilkerson had kept his urges and fantasies under control. He had suddenly been made aware that the young man in front of him was no longer a boy. No longer a child. He was an adult, decision-making person with a luscious cock and beautiful body. Mr. Wilkerson found himself on his knees next to the boy's new bed praying. Praying that the cock down his throat didn't choke him to death before he sucked a mouthful of that delicious smelling cum the boy was always producing. For his part, Toby was doing a little praying of his own, not that the Reverend Mr. Jackson would have approved of the subject matter, but Toby was praying out loud that his Daddy would use his butt for pleasure. Mr. Wilkerson froze, and pulled up off of Toby's prong. Staring at the boy. Toby's eyes started filling with tears, knowing he'd just ruined everything with his big mouth. Time froze, Toby's heart pounding in fear. Mr. Wilkerson leaned forward and took Toby's face between his hands, kand kissed him. Long, slow and thoroughly. Pulling back and looking deeply into Toby's eyes, "I used that butt of your's to grow you into the finest man I know. Daddy would be proud to teach you the pleasure a fine ass like yours deserves, Son...