Date: Mon, 30 Apr 2018 18:07:41 +0000
From: Jack Dawson <jackdaw9211@gmail.com>
Subject: The Mercenary. Part Two

Gay: Adult/Youth; Authoritarian

The Mercenary.

By Jackdaw

Part Two: Alès, Les Cévennes September 1978

He could hear him coming. Instinctively he reached for his cock and
squeezed it hard to stop himself pissing his shorts. The hairs on the back
of his neck prickled and his heart was hammering in his chest, his mouth
dry with fear. "Surely this time!" he said to himself. He had concealed
himself well. He was small enough to fit between the hay bales behind his
grandfather's tractor. The barn was dark and cool. He held his breath as
the muttering came nearer. He could see through a gap in the wooden sides
of the barn. The workers were visible about 100 meters off geting ready to
harvest the first of this year's crop of olives. Clovis wondered if he'd
have time to run down and save himself by joining them. But something kept
him frozen in place. He couldn't move. He wanted to. But he didn't want to
either. A spurt of piss forced itself through his cock and Clovis felt the
warmth spreading into his underwear. He squeezed his cock tighter, hurting
himself. But it felt good, too and he put his hand down his shorts to
comfort himself, repeatedly squeezing on his little member until it was
stiff and the skin across the head was pulled right back. He really needed
to take a piss but he didn't dare move and give himself away. The hay was
pricking the back of his skinny legs and his back. He'd left his t-shirt on
the seat of the tractor where he'd been playing and had ran to hide when he
heard his grandfather outside calling his name. A voice, talking to itself,
came through the darkness of the barn. Clovis knew his grandfather was
coming for him again. He always did when his Mother and Grandmother went in
to town together.

The first time he had been running around outside - brown as a berry from a
fortnight in the Summer sun, his dark brown hair already getting bleached
at its tips. His Mother kept it long. It was the fashion. She said he was
her very own *petit Benoît Ferreux,* whoever that was. His grandfather had
called him into the house.
"Clovis. Come."
He had obeyed unquestioningly. Had come running. His grandfather watched as
the beautiful boy that his ugly cunt of a daughter had managed to produce
came running up to him.
"Come," he said again and held out his hand.
The boy took it.
"I need your help," his grandfather said.
His grandfather was an imposing man. Black suited. White haired. Very
smartly turned out with a short trimmed beard and a pocket watch. Straight
as a poker. He was 6'2'' and trim. He carried his 60 years with authority.
They walked upstairs together and then carried along the landing to the
second staircase that led to the attic room. The staircase up to it was
narrower, steeper and his grandfather made Clovis go up first. As he went
up he felt his grandfather's large strong hand steadying his backside and
pushing him upwards. Clovis shivered at the touch but didn't know why. The
doorway was small and Clovis went straight through. It was darker in there
and Clovis's eyes took some getting used to the light. A mattress lay in
the corner, a table and chair, a few boxes. But nothing much of interest.
His grandfather came in behind him. He turned and locked the door. Took the
key out of the lock and placed it up on the door's lintel out of Clovis's
reach. He turned back to his grandson and smiled. Clovis smiled too and
scratched his bare chest. Still flush with running.
"What can I help you with grandfather?"
His grandfather took off his suit jacket and sat down in the chair.
"Would you help me take these off?" signaling his boots.
The boy came forward and undid the laces, tugging at the heavy leather
boot. The smell of summer-warmed socks came up to them both and Clovis
looked up. His grandfather was undoing his waistcoat buttons and his shirt
cufflinks.
"And the other one, Clovis."
He looked back down and went to work on the other boot. There was a knot
but his nimble little fingers were good at this. He pulled at the boot and
looked up as his grandfather finished undoing his white shirt. Clovis could
see his white chest hairs spreading out beneath the shirt and his taut,
hairy belly. Something didn't feel quite right. But then his grandfather
stood up and Clovis rocked back on to his haunches, his summer shorts
riding high on his thighs. His grandfather took the shirt and neatly placed
it over the back of the chair. Stretched his arms as if preparing for a
race and smiled at Clovis again who smiled back.
"I need you to take your shorts off now, Clovis" he said.
Clovis looked at him.
"And your sandals."
Clovis stood up. Shuffled his sandals off. Undid the buttons of his shorts
and stood there in his little blue underwear not knowing what to do.
His grandfather reached over to him, turned him round so that he had his
back turned. Clovis giggled. And then his grandfather then pulled his blue
underwear down.
A voice at his ear. Clear and quiet but not to be disobeyed.
"Do not turn around."
Clovis heard a rustling, the sound of a belt buckle hitting the floor and
then heard his grandfather sitting back down on the chair.
He stood there. Ashamed and confused. Put his hands behind his back.
"Hands in front, Clovis. Don't turn around."
For a minute, two minutes Clovis stood with his hands in front of him over
his little cock. Squeezing it. Heard more noises from his grandfather,
heard both of them breathing, and a quiet slapping, followed by a grunt and
a sigh. And then he heard the chair scraping and his grandfather was
kneeling behind him. Clovis desperately wanted to move but he couldn't.
Wanted to turn around but was too scared to. His grandfather's hands were
at his sides, stroking his flanks. And now his back. And now his bottom.
They returned to his shoulders and he felt his grandfather's whiskers
stroking across his shoulder blades and then a kiss and then another one at
the base of his neck and something soft and hard on his bare leg's soft
skin, touching it very gently. Another kiss in the corner of his neck and
his grandfather's voice whispering in his ear.
"Beautiful boy. Here. Taste this."
His grandfather's finger was at his lips and a pungent smell filled his
nostrils. He opened his mouth and his grandfather inserted a finger.
"Clean it."
Clovis licked. Gagged on the bitter taste.
"Swallow."
He swallowed.
"Lick it again now. Get it nice and wet."
It felt funny and uncomfortable in his mouth but he did it, rolling his
tongue around the finger and sucking on it.
He felt his grandfather's hands between his legs.
"Open your legs wider now, Clovis."
And then the hands at his bottom again. Pulling his cheeks apart. The wet
finger was suddenly at his hole. Clovis was amazed. His grandfather was
rubbing him there! Pushing. Insistent. It was uncomfortable.
"Relax Clovis."
Then suddenly the finger was inside him! He staggered forward but his
grandfather held him by the shoulder to steady him.
His mouth was dry. His grandfather was moving his finger quickly in and
out. And Clovis couldn't really breathe. Kept taking in breaths. And then
startled. By something he'd never felt before. Couldn't explain. And his
cock all of a sudden hard. He went up on tiptoes with the feeling. Heard
his grandfather chuckle.
"That's an early birthday present, Clovis. Double digits. You're growing
up." And then his grandfather nibbled his ear and kissed his cheek from
behind and said he was a sweet boy.

He had come to know that attic room very well that Summer. Had learnt what
the weight of a full grown male body pinning you to a mattress feels like.
Felt the pain as more fingers and then an adult cock broke through that
tight hole. And his grandfather was not a small man. 7 hard inches were
looking for satisfaction and Clovis's boicunt wasn't able to provide it.
His tears merely slowed down his grandfather. But they didn't stop him.

So he had taken to hiding around the farm.

But not well enough.

A powerful hand, used to hard work, thrust through the hay bales and seized
him by the arm. He cried out in alarm. But his grandfather was strong and
tough and pulled him out. Clovis wriggled and struggled and protested and
got his face slapped for his trouble. It was the first time his grandfather
had hit him. And it shut him up.
"Up here" his grandfather said, pulling him upwards onto the top of the
bails of straw in the barn, some eight feet off the ground. His grandfather
threw him into the hay and opened his fly - his cock was hard. He spat in
his hand and skinned back the foreskin.
"Get those shorts off" he ordered.
And Clovis complied. He always complied.
His grandfather sat in the corner with his back against the wooden barn
wall.
"Over here."
Clovis crawled over to him until his head was where it needed to be. The
salty aroma and smell of old piss familiar to him now.
"Get it wet."

This time his grandfather fucked him by sitting the naked boy down on his
cock. Clovis's back was against his grandfather's hairy chest and his
grandfather sighed and grunted as the boy's weight took his cock deep
inside him. He stroked the silky skin and pulled him back against his
chest, enjoying the feeling of being deep inside the boy. He stroked the
boys nipples till they were hard and reached around to the boy's little
cock. It was little now but he knew Clovis was going to be well-hung. All
the men in the family were. He started playing with the cock and the boy
leaned back against him. There had been some resistance from him today and
he had hurt him going in. He'd had to push past a soft turd and the boy was
saying he needed to take a shit and got a little teary. Knowing this just
made him harder. Still, he wasn't a monster and the boy deserved to enjoy
himself for once so he started wanking the boy. He felt the contractions of
the boicunt around his dick as he rubbed the hard little cock. The boy
stretched out his legs in pleasure and his grandfather sped up his
movements, increasing the intensity of the pleasure for the boy. The boy
arched his back, nearly came off the old man's cock and his grandfather had
to hold him down on it by force enjoying the spasms of the tight sphincter
muscle around him. The boy's dry cum was intense. They both enjoyed it.

But Clovis never forgave his grandfather for what came next. And never
failed to do the same thing to the boys he preyed upon in his turn.
After his dry cum his grandfather remained inside of him, holding him down
on his hard cock and didn't let him go.
His strong hand didn't leave his grandson's oversensitive small cock either
- but carried on wanking.
His other strong arm pinned Clovis back against his chest as the boy
struggled to break free in ecstasy and agony as his grandfather continued
wanking his little cock. The boy cried out. Underpants were found and
stuffed into his mouth to silence him and still he couldn't break free as
still his grandfather kept his cock inside his boicunt and his fingers
around his grandson's cock. Pumping it, rubbing it making Clovis scream
with pleasure and pain. His grandfather felt the exquisite grip on his cock
and kept on rubbing. The second dry cum took five minutes of pain. Clovis's
boicunt spasmed so tightly that his grunting grandfather thrust just the
once and came inside of the boy who collapsed forwards as if in a faint.

His grandfather wiped the shit and cum off his spent cock and lay down next
to the boy, kissing his head and stroking his hair.
When he came round Clovis looked up into his grandfather's face as the old
man pulled on his shirt and made to climb down off the hay bails.
He spat out at his grandfather: "I swear. One day. One day. I'm going to
kill you."
His grandfather's laughter came back taunting him: "You enjoyed every
minute of it."
Clovis lay back in frustration and anger and his own powerlessness.
And as his grandfather walked away he heard one last taunt, "And you'll do
the same yourself, my boy. Just you wait and see."