Date: Sat, 9 Mar 2013 19:07:54 -0500 From: Sean Williams Subject: The Nicholson Boy Chapter 15 The Nicholson Boy Chapter 15 "I don't know what that means, man," I said. I shook my head and the last drops of water dripped down my naked body. I felt the hands of the devil on my waist, you know that part where your waist curves out to your hips. I felt him rub my back. I could tell that he liked the striations I had in my lower back cuz his fingers kept rubbin' them. I was pretty cut up. I guess I was a lot stronger and muscular than I looked with my clothes on. Satan had these big hands, he just seemed so fuckin' strong. The way he rubbed me felt so damn good. If he wanted to he coulda picked me up with his two hands, held me up in the air, and fucked me like that. Round two. Satan kissed me on the back of my neck. "I want you," he said. "Just be with me. With me and no one else." I reached back and rubbed onto the devil's big biceps and triceps. I squeezed 'em. I could feel the veins coursin' down his biceps on my fingerteps. I took a deep breath. "Forever and ever." I didn't say anything to that so he went on. "Anything you ever wanted, you could have. You had nothing in Kentucky, I know you used to live in a double-wide trailer. All of that could be a distant memory. Close your eyes and when you open them you will see a mansion, a palace, anything your heart desires. When you were a child, you wanted to live in the big house on the hill, where the rich family lived. I can take it from them and give it you. You could even go back to being a child again, for a time, and live your life over again, under altered circumstances. You shall be a child again, living in that house on the hill. I shall take it from them." "What do you mean take it from 'em?" I asked. I don't even know if I asked this out loud or if I just thought 'bout it. "You mean kill 'em? Those people that live in that house?" Satan paused for a moment. He rubbed my back some more. "Don't think about it, Tucker. Don't think about it. Perhaps you would like to live in a castle, something out of the storybook. I can make that castle for you, just close your eyes." I closed my eyes, but I wasn't picturin' any damned castle. I didn't picture or even think about anything at all. Scott and me readjusted in the shower so that he had his big, wide back to me. It was so wide that words couldn't even describe it. I rested my face against his back. I felt safe. Protected. I don't know what I was thinkin'. "Take my hand and I can lead you into the castle. Anything you ever wanted is inside. What do you want. Tucker? Do you want a new watch, or a new car? Perhaps a Mercedes Benz? No. I know what you want: a good meal. There are people in the castle that exist only to serve you. To serve us. Slaves. The slaves can cook you a meal, whatever meal you desire. Tucker, whatever you want you can have, just be with me." "I don't want any slaves," I said. "Alright then," said the devil. "No slaves. We'll pay everybody in the castle a salary and we'll treat them well, or however you would like to treat them. They will make you a meal, with extra sausage. Beef sausage. That's what you want, right?" I guess I shrugged. "Why can't you cook me a meal?" The devil paused for a second and it seemed like he became Scott again. It was like the person standin' in front of me, physically, was Scott and he wasn't Satan when he wasn't talkin'. But then he started speakin' and he was back to bein' Satan. "Sure, Tucker, I can cook you a meal," he said. "Fresh. We'll slaughter the cow together in the back of the castle and roast it over an open spit. I shall have an axe brought up from Hell... I mean... from my home, and we shall slaughter the creature together. We shall grind the choicest parts together with the innards to make the sausage." "Um... maybe that's not such a good idea., man Let's scratch that one. Maybe we'll just have the servants make the sausage. Just store-bought sausage. And, like you said, we'll pay them a decent wage, cuz I'm sure they have kids and stuff at home. One of 'em could just go to the market and get the beef sausage. All they have to do is defrost it and maybe stick it in the oven." "Whatever you would like." "The castle has an oven right? I mean, like, an electric oven?" "Sure. Of course." But, honestly, I didn't even want a castle. I was really just thinkin' about the sausage at that point and not any kinda sausage that started with the actual cow. I mean, I'm country, but I'm not that damned country. "Tucker," said Satan. "I need you to answer a question for me." "What is it?" "Answer just this one thing for me," he said. "I can give you anything. What can Frank give you that I cannot?" I wanted to say "the boots off his feet", but Satan probably coulda given me those, too. Except he mighta chopped Frank's feet off first to get 'em. What could Frank give me that the devil couldn't? Hmmmm. It was a good question and I didn't have an answer right then. I stepped outta the shower and Scott followed me out. We stood on the blood red rug outside of the shower for a few minutes so we wouldn't get water all over the bathroom floor. Scott put his arms around me and I could feel the hair from his arm pits tickle my shoulders and the side of my chest. I could smell him: just this manly scent. Scott took a towel down from the towel rack and he dried me off with it. He spent a lot of time dryin' off my ass, my cock , and my balls. I had already came but damn did I start gettin' hard again. I guess you could say it doesn't take much for me to spring wood. When he was done towelin' me off, Scott started dryin' himself off. He spent alot of time dryin' off his cock, balls and ass. It was almost like he was teasin' me. Tryin' to keep me interested or somethin'. Man, was it a sight to behold. Then he put the towel back on the rack and he pulled me close. Scott towered over me and his big hairy pecs were right at the level of my face. I was mesmerized by his big pink nipples. They looked like they need suckin' so bad. "Anything you want, Tucker," he said. After that, we went back to the devil's bedroom. We were both still naked and we got into bed together. Scott was such a massive guy that when he got into the bed the mattress seemed to dip down a lot under his weight. It creaked. I guess they even have creaky mattresses in Hell. Ain't that somethin'? Scott pulled me into the bed with him. "I'm so tired," said Satan. "Me too," I said. I was lyin' and I kept thinkin' to myself: "Shit, I wonder if the devil can read people's minds and shit?" because I didn't want the devil to know I was lyin' to him. Well, I don't know if the devil could read minds or maybe he was just tired, but that fucker fell right to sleep. I was sorta layin' on top of him in his big warm chest and I stayed like that for a long time. Man, it must have been an hour or two. Once I was sure that the devil, or Scott, or whoever it was, was fast asleep, I kinda squiggled out of his arms and snuck outta the bed. I couldn't remember where I put my clothes and I searched for 'em. When I found 'em, I threw them on - first the tight white jock that hugged my beefy ass, then the white t-shirt, and then the jeans. Scott had a big black sweatshirt and I threw it on because it was real early and I thought it might be cold outside. Once my clothes were on, I walked toward the door. Before I walked through it, I took one look back behind me to make sure Scott was out and he was sleepin' like a baby. Damn he looked so big and handsome layin' in bed like that. He looked even more handsome cuz he was sleepin'. It was like he was defenseless. And, not only that, he wasn't talkin' so I wasn't reminded that he was Satan. Right then, he was just a big, muscley baseball player. It was like he was Scott again. He was kinda curled up layin' on his side and I could see his big cock layin' on his thigh beneath his big bushy red pubes. I almost wanted to go back and fall asleep with him. Damn, his thick cock looked good from that angle, with this big bulbous cock head at the end of a long veiny shaft. Maybe I would suck him off first, and then we could fall asleep... But then I thought, "That big handsome guy is Lucifer! I gotta get outta this place!" Next thing I knew, I was walkin' on the old county road. I wasn't walkin' with any particular direction but I was generally headin' back toward campus. I knew it had to be almost twenty miles away but I didn't know where else I could go. For some reason, I started gettin' really hard all of a sudden. My cock started snakin' down the side of my jeans and that's when I saw a pair of headlights behind me. I thought: "Frank" and I started gettin' real excited. I knew Frank was innocent when it came to Coach Gunn and so I figured he might be outta the Sheriff's Office by now. But the car that pulled up to me wasn't a red Camaro. I heard the sound of a window rollin' down. "Get in the car, retard," I heard a voice say outta the car window. "No," I said and I just kept on walkin'. Great, that definitely wasn't Frank. "You mean to tell me you're gonna walk the twenty miles back to campus, dumbass?" Matheson asked. "Yeah. Maybe." "That doesn't make any goddamn sense. Listen, dickface, I don't care if you're fuckin' that guy, Scott, or whatever his name is." I stopped walkin' to listen to this. "I really don't, I mean, we're young, there's enough ass to go around, he can get some ass once in a while. I mean, he seems like a huge douche, and I don't think he's a good baseball player, but hey, if you like him, who am I to judge?" "Um... ok." "I mean, you got the best baseball player in the state offerin' you a ride in his car and you're turnin' that down for some roided out reject from god know's where. But hey, if you're fuckin' that guy, whatever." "Who says I'm fuckin' him?" I never actually admitted to that. "Well, you are walkin' away from his house in the wee hours of the mornin' lookin' like you're ashamed of somethin'and I'm guessin' that means you fucked him, but hey, it's your conscience, right? That shit is on your conscience, but the fact is, that has nothin' to do with me. That's all you, my friend, but I'm not gonna let you walk your hot little tail all the way back to school when you could be ridin' in this car wit me." "I'm good, man," I said. "Maybe I need to walk, to clear my head." "You can clear your head in the car," said Matheson. "I promise to shut up and drive. You can do all the thinkin' you want and I'll just keep it zipped." "That's gonna be hard for you," I said as I pulled open the car door and stepped in. "I'll manage." "You sure you can just shut up and let me think?" "Yep," said Matheson. "I promise." "Wait, so what you're tellin' me is you really did fuck this guy?" That was Matheson. Contrary to his promise, he did not just shut up, drive, and let me think. He basically asked me so many questions that I ended up spillin' the beans. I regretted it already. "I mean, are you serious?" I sighed. "And," Matheson continued, "if that wasn't bad enough, this Scott Danzig guy is actually the devil?" "Anything you ever wanted you could have." I heard Satan's voice ringin' in my ears. "Yeah," I said, "I don't know if I really believe it, man, but that's what he said. He's the big 'D'." "Damn, you Kentucky boys really know how to get yourselves in over your fuckin' heads. I mean, it doesn't get more serious than the fuckin' devil does it? That's the last person you wanna fuck with. I mean, I can't imagine what the devil's like when he's scorned. You're literally gonna have Hell to pay." Alright, I had to admit that that was a clever line from Matheson. "The big 'D'," Matheson went on. "What the fuck were you thinkin'?" "I don't know. It just sorta happened." "So you really fucked him?" "Um. Yeah." "And you... um.... did you let him like... well, shoot inside of you?" I laughed. "Man, I can't believe you just asked me that, and I can't believe I'm gonna admit it, but yeah, he came in my ass." "Fuck!" yelled Matheson and he slammed his fist down on the steerin' wheel. "And you wouldn't let me get one poke? Damn, fuck you, Tucker!" "Man, calm down. The car's swervin' all over the place!" "Alright, I'm sorry," Brian said. "It's just that I don't get it. You let Satan cum in your ass? I mean, aren't you afraid that in nine months you might give birth to Rosemary's Baby or somethin'?" "You don't get pregnant from someone cummin' in your ass, dummy." "I'm just askin'." "Plus, I'm a dude." Now that Brian was talkin' about it I started to think that maybe I shouldn't have let the big D jizz in my butt. I sure did have a lot to feel guilty about. I needed someone to talk this out with, someone who was not like ninety-percent Neanderthal (Brian Matheson). Now I was feelin' like I needed Frank more than ever. "Anything you ever you wanted you could have," I heard Satan say to me again, and I felt like he was sittin' right behind me in the car. I could feel the weight of his hand on my shoulder. His breath on my neck. I felt the devil's heat. Sometimes it felt real good, but occasionally it felt like I was burnin', like when you burn the top of your hand when you reach into the hot stove without oven mits. Just the momentary, painful burn, and he wasn't even really there. "I want you to go away," I said. "Go away and leave me alone with Frank. Forever." There was a pause like time came to a stop. I could see Satan behind me: his face in the rear-view mirror. He was lookin' right at me with these intense eyes like he was askin': "You cannot truly mean that, can you?" "Just go," I said. "Get lost. For good. That's what I want." And suddenly the car got very cold. I looked behind me and there was no devil behind my back or any voices in my head. It was like it was all gone. All of it. My heart started to beat fast and I turned to Matheson who looked dazed and confused beside me. Well, I guess he normally looked like that, but whatever. "Man, you can't take me home, you have to take me somewhere else," I said. Matheson shrugged. "Where? My place?" "No," I said. "Someplace else. Make a left at the Chicken Shack and I'll give you directions from there." Brian did indeed make that left at the Chicken Shack and I led him back to a place that I hadn't been to in a long while. Too long. Soon, we were drivin' up a dirt road with an oat field on our right and this old rickety house on the left. I looked through all the windows of that house to see if there was anybody standin' inside and I couldn't see nothin'. A few broken windows, but no person behind that cracked glass. I saw the screen door shake with the blowin' wind and when Matheson stopped the car I ran out. I ran up to the house and as I shot up the steps somebody stepped outta the house. The thing I remember most is the click of his boots on the oak floor. Then I saw him. He had jelled back dark hair and big brown eyes and was wearin' his shirt open with his undershirt showin' beneath. He opened his arms to me and I ran into them. It was Frank. [TO BE CONTINUED.]