The story of Mel and his seven brothers, is still told, in the evenings, 'round campfires, in the Arizona Territory.
But what few people know, and even fewer tell, is that Mel didn't really have seven brothers. The eight heroes of legendary deeds were indeed united as one family, but by a very peculiar kind of relationship.
So, I won't tell ya of their exploits. I'm sure ya heard 'em all. Just the parts that ain't usually told. And I decided to put 'em in writin' so's they can't be forgot or changed like the campfire stories.
It's 1863. The year the "Arizona Territory" was established. In the small but flourishing center of Yuma, a prostitute named Evelyn Sutton, gave birth to a son. She was sure, don't ask me how, that the kid was the result of her trysts with Matt, second born of the rich cattle breeder Riley. But Matt said: "That ain't any kin o' mine." So Evelyn, knowin' she couldn't take care of him in her brothel, wrapped the little boy in a small blanket. Giving him a last kiss, she gave a sigh, and that night, deposited him on the steps of the Riley's house, then disappeared from Yuma.
Awaken by the powerful wailing of the newborn, the Rileys found the baby. Old Riley asked his sons if they knew from where the child came from and whose fruit he was; but all, especially Matt, assured him they didn't have the faintest idea. So, the old Riley called the aged Mexican governess Pata, and entrusted her with the new born baby. The woman grew him up like a son, and gave him the name Melvyn. The child grew on the ranch, with the cows and cowboys. Scratching about in the surroundings of the masters' house, in the stables, among the camps of Riley's men; he was soon known as Lil' Mel, or Mel the Kid. Having a great personality, always merry and helpful, the boy made himself useful doing lots of little jobs around the ranch.
He was 'round thirteen when Pata died. Mel found himself alone in the world. But now, he was part of the ranch. Like the dogs and the old alder, the herds and the servants, the land and the rangeland. Already grown up and strapping, he started to follow the cowboys in their tending to the cattle. He received a horse. He had to fetch water, light and maintain the fire, prepare the strong black coffee, and a thousand other little tasks. At night, when he felt fallin' down tired, he'd spread his blanket somewhere and lay down, falling asleep like a rock.
One night, he woke up when 'nature called.' Standing up, he went to look for a sheltered place far from the camp, to relieve himself. Returning to his blanket, he saw a shadow sneaking away from the camp. Thinking he might be a thief, he followed him, ready to shout the alarm. The shadow stopped behind a rock. Mel drew nearer, and recognized Joe. A brawny twenty seven year old man, who was very skilled in taming wild horses. He could hit a horsefly at three paces with his spit... Reassured, Mel was about to return to the camp, when he saw Joe opening his trousers and take out his tool. He thought he was just taking a leak, but then felt that there was something strange about the man's behavior. The man leaned his back against the rock. Spreading his legs a little, he closed his eyes. Taking his tool in his big hand, he started to move his hand back and forth with slow and strong movements. Mel watched in fascination at the scene barely lit by the moon's rays, asking himself what the cowboy was doing. After a while, he noticed that Joe's movements were becoming faster, then he saw the man's body bending forward. From that powerful flesh pole he saw spurts of luminescent pearls that arched in the air, faintly shining, landing a couple of paces from the man. Mel never saw anything like that, and asked himself what Joe did and why? What could be that milky thing that for sure was not piss... He went back to his blanket recalling what he had witnessed, and thought he had to ask Joe. But in a confused way, he understood he could not ask him in the presence of the other men. In fact, if Joe did what he did at night time, and withdrawing from the camp, it meant that he didn't want to be seen. But what did Joe do? And why?
The following night, as Joe had spread his cover in a somewhat isolated spot, Mel decided to spread his blanket near that of the man.
"Yo, Mel. What brings you here?"
"Need to talk to ya, Joe."
"Talk? 'bout what?"
"Last night... I saw you behind that rock... what were you doing?"
"Ya saw me? What'd you see?"
"You pulled it out, and moved it, and something came out... Why?"
"You really don't know what was I doing?"
"Really..."
"You never do it?"
"No, why?"
"Because... Do you know how to fuck a woman?"
"Yes, you put your thing in her thing and... but what has this to do with that?"
"When you don't have a woman, you do it by yourself, that way. Ain't as good, but at least you can unload. Nowadays yours gets hard, at times, right?"
"Ya, sure..."
"Came closer, let me see it."
"Why?"
"You saw mine, right?"
"Yes..."
"So, open your breeches... nobody can see us, here."
Mel obeyed. The man's fingers rummaged in his genitals and the boy felt he was getting a hard on, and that he was liking to be touched there by Joe.
The man said: "Yours is already kinda big."
"Not like yours..."
"Pull my dick out, go on..."
Mel, somewhat hesitant, but curious, did as the man asked him. He played a while with that vigorous flesh pole, and he enjoyed it. Joe started to masturbate the boy and made him reciprocate, until Mel cummed, then also the man.
"Did you like it, Kid?"
"It's... it's amusing."
"So, we'll amuse again, OK?"
"OK!"
On the following day, as they were passing a ford, the Trail Boss noticed that a cow was missing. So he asked for two men to go back and look for it. Immediately Joe volunteered himself and said he wanted Mel with him. In fact Joe thought that Mel could be better than Phil, the young eighteen year old cowboy they usually all fucked when they were far from the towns and from their women, or from a brothel. But Phil started to be somewhat too virile, and Mel could become a very good substitute. So, while the others pushed the herd forward, Joe and Mel went in the opposite direction. They rode for less than a mile when at last they saw the cow who was quietly ruminating near a tree.
Mel said: "Ain't we lucky! Let's drive her to the herd."
"No hurry, Kid. We can rest five minutes, then we'll make her trot towards the herd. Git off your horse, and tie him to a branch. Come with me, under the tree."
Mel, used to obeying, did as Joe told him. They went under the tree, in his shadow, and sat.
Joe then said: "Kid, you did like it last night, right?"
"Yes, Joe."
"So, pull off your breeches and we can amuse ourselves for a while."
"Now? Here?"
"Sure, ain't nobody 'round for miles. Don't just open them, pull 'em off... So, good. Now, come here, lie on your back and spread your legs... Good, that's the way..."
Joe knelt between the boy's spread legs and pulled out his member, that was already hard as a pistol's barrel. The man took Mel's legs, putting them over his shoulders, spit in his hand and put it on his member.
"What ya doing?" Mel, curious with these maneuvers, asked.
"Your lil' ass seems right like that of a woman..." Joe said grasping the boy's waist and pointing his member straight between his buttocks.
Mel let the man manipulate him, at first curious, but then, feeling that hot, throbbing rod rummaging in his buttocks, giving him a weird sensation of pleasure. But when the man, with a set of vigorous strokes, started to violate his virgin hole, Mel felt a sharp, shooting pain, and tried to get away from the assault. But the man was strong and without difficulty immobilized the boy and continued with his frantic strokes, trying to overcome the resistance of the inviolate sphincter of the boy.
Mel shouted in pain, shouted with all the breath he had in his lungs, like a slaughtered little pig. He tossed in a useless attempt to escape the assault. In vain. The cow and the horses turned their head to placidly look at him, rather astounded, and that was the only answer to his shouts. His hole started to surrender. Mel saw the lust in the sparkling eyes of the man bending over him, and saw that the man was starting to smile while opening his way inside the boy. When Joe felt he was in to the hilt; he started to fuck the boy in a fast and strong rhythm, panting at each stroke. The man's face was dripping with sweat, but was opening in a wide, satisfied smile.
Mel felt shocked, torn, victim of a huge force that was not only that of the man dominating him, but an unknown force that kept him subjugated. He stopped shouting now, and was feebly groaning, a short moan at each thrust, almost a yelp. Pain continued, at times shooting, at times dull. But at the same time Mel felt that in one part of his brain, almost separated from the rest, almost anaesthetized, was being born a weird admiration for the animal force that was conquering him. The virile energy that jolted him, those magnetic eyes that devoured him, that powerful pole nailed him to the man's will.
Mel looked at the blue sky, oh, so blue, and the sun among the branches and felt that the pain, always incredibly strong, was localizing in his anus, but that the rest of his body was little by little invaded by a sense of peace, of confused pleasure. He felt like he was split in two. And felt his own member harden, and automatically brought his hand to beat it as Joe taught him in the night, and he cummed. Cumming, he contracted all his muscles, also that of his little hole, and Joe, shouting a victory cry like when at a rodeo he tamed a wild colt, unloaded inside the boy.
Then Joe slipped out, put back his still half hard member in his trousers, gave a tweak to Mel and said, his voice still somewhat hoarse and panting for the orgasm just reached: "A good fuck, Mel. I really needed it!"
"Can I dress now?" the boy asked, hesitantly.
"Ya."
"It hurts."
"It'll pass. What kinda man are you? Ain't goina start to whimper now? Christ, what a beautiful ass you have, soft and tight!"
Mel passed lightly his fingers on his aching anus and looked at them, and was amazed, but relieved, not to see blood on them. He put back his breeches and stood up. At each movement he felt stabbing back there, but he said nothing. In silence, they mounted their horses and started to push the cow toward the ford, and further on until they reached the herd.
Mel felt pain all day long, and the day after. At night, Joe withdrew with the boy to fuck him again. He kept his hand pressed on Mel's mouth so that he couldn't yell. This time too Mel felt pain, but noticed that the pleasure was stronger than the first time.
When Joe, satisfied, left him, Mel said: "I wouldn't have shouted..."
"So, you like being fucked!"
"It's painful. But less than two days ago."
"You are tight, but soft. That's why I like so much fucking you. And you'll get used to it Kid. You'll get used to it, you'll see..."
Joe took the boy several other times, in the nights. Mel was aware that each time the pain subdued a little, and the pleasure increased. He also was aware that now, at night, he started to hope that Joe spread his blanket near his own, and thought that he liked the lusty glance the man had while mounting him.
Then, Joe confided to a friend that he was fucking the boy. So this man, feeling he missed women like all the other men, and tired of Phil ass, one night slipped under Mel's cover, lowered the boy's breeches and took him, without saying a word. Mel knew he wasn't Joe and was slightly stupefied, but let the man have his way. The young man cummed in a moment, but then almost at once started again and this time fucked the boy for a long, long while.
The rumor spread, in secret, whispered, murmured... and in just a few months Mel found himself having to give this new kind of service to those rough men. To those young males in forced abstinence, and specially to Phil who could now reaffirm his virility. Mel didn't know it, but rather often the cowboys take with them a boy during the months of pasture far from home and any inhabited center. To them it is natural to give vent to their irrepressible virile instincts on the boy, waiting to meet again their women. You all must know the far-west proverb "a woman for love, a kid for lust". And if the boy is a virgin, it is to one of them to wean him, and to prepare him for the other men.
Mel learned to recognize the light nod that now one, now another of the men made to him when he stood up from the bonfire, and went to spread his blanket somewhat withdrawn from the others, sheltered from indiscreet eyes. And everybody perfectly knew the reason, and respected those private moments, because so they would be respected at their turn.
Mel also learned that each man had a different way to fuck, and a member different in thickness, length, or hardness. Some of the men cummed soon, others needed ages to cum. Some gave vigorous thrusts, others slipped in and out calmly. Some fucked him in silence, other insulted him or treated him as a woman (but Mel understood that it was just like a game), other filled him with praises and blandishments. Some enjoyed in him with a kind of abandon, others with frenzy. Some, as soon as they cum, left immediately to go to sleep, others instead took him several times, until they stood up dazed like drunks to go finally back to their blankets.
Mel the Kid let them take him in silence, and often he too enjoyed. And when the man, sated, went back to his blanket, the boy had just enough time to put on his breeches and fall asleep like a stone, satisfied. During the day time nobody ever made allusions to the night activities and all the men treated him normally. Mel didn't know that more than one of these men, when a boy, had passed through the same experience.
When Mel was fifteen, Old Riley hired a group of gunslingers to protect the ranch and the herds from the increasing number of attacks by bandits. They all were skilled gunmen. Often, to keep in exercise, they trained in the meadow behind the stables. Mel saw that the best of all was Ben Fargo. A twenty five year old man, nicknamed the Lord because, unlike all the other gunmen, he always dressed with city-like elegance. The man had a style and technique that was very different. He set at a distance, tins and bottles on a fence, a stone, a tree's branch. Then he walked away with his casual air, as if he was strolling, calm, quiet, elegant also in his gait. Then suddenly he turned back and his pistols, appeared as if by magic in his hands, in incredibly rapid succession, shot, and each target flew in the air and was hit again by a second bullet. It was awesome! Mel looked at him fascinated.
One day Ben approached the boy and said: "You are my most devoted fan, boy. What's your name?"
"Mel... Mel the Kid."
"Ah Ah! I'm Ben."
"I know, Ben the Lord. And you are the best gunman in Arizona, the men say. I would like to be like you."
"Would you like me to teach you, boy?"
"Fucking Shit! Sure I would!"
So the friendship between Mel and Ben started. The young man was pleasantly surprised at the swiftness of the boy's progresses. The boy had the inborn instinct of a gunman. In a just a few months he hadn't missed one shot.
When the herds were ready to leave, the cowboys called Mel to go with them for his usual services. Not the last of that of being fucked by them. But Mel, fascinated by his teacher, decided not to go. The men, seeing their nocturnal amusement vanish, tried to persuade the boy. First with words of praise, then menacing him, finally with force. But Mel continued, stubbornly to say no. One of the men started to beat the boy. Suddenly, a pistol shot brushed the man's hat, neatly cutting it's buckle.
Ben, his two pistols in his hands, leaning in a relaxed position again a rail, said: "Leave the boy in peace. Mel stays with me."
"But he's our boy. He has to come with us!"
"Yours? Did you buy him? I didn't know you traded in white slaves here ... Come here, Mel. Who ever dares to touch you one more time, will have to discuss things mouth to mouth with my pistols."
Mel stood up from the ground and ran to take shelter behind Ben. So then the men left in silence, and this time the herd went away without it's boy - the most enraged was Phil.
Ben turned and said to Mel: "I feel like I have to buy you a pistol, my boy. You have to learn to make yourself respected." and with a smile, ruffled the boy's hair.
That night, Mel went were Ben was sleeping, slipped near his bed and asked in a whisper: "Are you sleeping, Ben?"
"No."
"I need to talk to ya..."
"Sit here. What do you want to tell me?"
"Do you know why the men wanted me with them?"
"I can guess."
"Do you have a woman?"
"No."
"And don't you miss one?"
"No."
"Ah..."
Silence.
"Ben?"
"Yes?"
"Thank you for protecting me."
"If you don't like what these men wanted from you, I don't see why you had to go with them."
"With some of them I liked it, but not with everybody who was turned on... And then, some were violent."
"You liked it, with some?"
"Yes, two or three, I really liked. And if you missed a woman, I... well, do you understand, don't you?"
"I don't miss a woman. But I like you."
"I too like you, Ben..."
"Why didn't you tell me before, boy?"
"It's not for a small boy to choose. I hoped you'd ask me. But if you say that you don't miss a woman..."
"First, you are no longer a small boy, you are growing up nicely. Second, a boy must be free to say 'I like it - I don't like it', or else 'I desire it - I don't - I'm game - I'm not'. And third... I don't miss a woman, that's true, I miss a boy."
"What do you mean?"
"Most of the men like to do it with a woman. But some men like to do it with a man. I am of this second kind. And I would like very much doing it with you..."
"I am here, Ben. You can fuck me any time you want."
"I don't want to fuck you, Mel. I like you very much. I would like to make love with you."
"What's the difference?"
"The same difference to go with a whore, or to choose a girl as a wife."
"But we're both males..."
"Sure. And a man can fuck another just to give vent to his lust as cowboys do with their boys. As they did with you. Or a man can like another so much that he tells him by making love with him. I feel I'm growing fond of you, and I would like you to become my boyfriend, my secret lover."
"Secret? Why secret?"
"Because people understands and accepts that a man can give vent to his lust with a boy, when he misses women, but doesn't understand nor accept that two men could be in love. So, two men loving each other, have to pretend to be just close friends, and never let know others know that they are lovers."
"That's why I didn't know that two men can also be mutually in love, then."
"Possibly."
"I... I too feel I love you. Would you teach me to make love, if it's different from fucking?"
"Close the door, then. Then undress and come here in my bed, near me, Kid..."
Mel did as he was told by Ben. The young man started to caress him and Mel thought it was really wonderful. When Ben felt that the boy's body was answering to his ever increasing caresses, he kissed the boy. At first Mel felt weird (everybody knows that two men don't kiss, he thought; but then he told himself that perhaps two secret lovers do it, in secret, precisely) but then he started to feel pleasure also in that and on instinct he began to echo everything that Ben was doing to him. So, little by little, with gradualism and gentleness, Ben made him understand, experience the difference between fucking and making love. Mel abandoned himself to all the attentions of the man, and returned them in a crescendo of pleasure and passion. When he received Ben inside himself, for the first time in his life he felt an intense pleasure, without bother or pain, and he quivered all and felt happy and excited.
Ben, at a certain point, caressing and kissing him while slowly moving inside him, whispered: "I'm near cumming... are you able to cum yet?"
"I think... I think yes. But why?"
"Because afterwards I want you to enter inside me. You already have a nice dick, I would like to feel all of it inside me."
"But you are no more a boy. And I am just a boy."
"Yes, my boy."
"But the older fucks the younger, is it not so?"
"If you just fuck, perhaps it's so. But if you make love, there is no difference, what one does, the other also does. There is no older or younger. So, would you please, after, give me all of this beautiful dick of yours?"
"I never did it... I don't know if I'll be able... but if you want..."
"You'll learn. So, as now I'm making you my boy, after you'll make me your man..."
"And we will be secret lovers?"
"And we will be secret lovers."
So, Ben and Mel became lovers. They were inseparable. Mel grew up and became big at eye sight and under Ben's guide, had become an exceptional gunman, second only to his lover. When Ben decided to leave the Rileys, he bought a good horse for Mel and they left together. They worked for several ranches, for several masters. Soon, Ben the Lord and Mel the Kid became the best paid gunmen in all Arizona.
Ben never accepted work as a killer, nor for anyone who wanted to make abuses, no matter how much money they offered as a reward. He defended transports, protected banks, worked for the ranches menaced by bandits. And he was incorruptible. At times they were hired by some sheriff and appointed temporary vice-sheriff. But they never accepted even to become bounty hunters, and they always tried not to get themselves in brawls and not to be involved in feuds.
Mel was now nineteen, he had become a boy of rare beauty, and was more than ever united to Ben and Ben to him. They were back to Yuma and were lodging at the only local Hotel. Mel fell ill and was forced to take to bed, and Ben cared him with tenderness and affection.
One day, a group of bandits assaulted the bank in front of the hotel. As soon as he heard the shooting, Ben took his weapons and went down on the street. Nobody obliged him to do so, but he was that way. He told Mel not to move from the bed, but the boy, took his pistols, lurked from the window. The shooting continued. The bandits reacted furiously and with a nourished fire. The sheriff with his helpers was running towards the bank. The bandits jumped on their horses to flee, and then Ben faced them running in the middle of the street to block their passage, and he knocked down three of them, but then he collapsed to the ground. Mel saw him fall down, shot and killed two more bandits, but the remaining two succeeded in disappearing. Mel, feverish, without even putting on clothes, went headlong downstairs, to the street and ran to Ben's body. A hole had pierced his heart and Ben was dead. Mel saw shadows milling around them. He looked up - they were the sheriff with his helpers, clerks of the bank, people from the saloon, citizens.
He stood up and asked: "Who were they?"
"Jeff and his gang."
"Where do they hide?"
"Who knows..."
"I'll find them, I'll wipe them out, I swear."
"Your friend and you killed nine of them. Thank you, in the name of the city."
"I'll wipe them out..." Mel repeated, and fainted.
He recovered consciousness lying in his bed. A woman was wiping his forehead with a damp towel.
"Ben..." Mel murmured.
"Your friend? They will bury him in a while, here in our cemetery. He is in the church, now."
"Help me to dress..."
"You are still so weak."
"Help me to dress."
Mel assisted in the funeral service. The community had prepared a beautiful tomb, as sign of its gratitude. The director of the bank gave him a prize in money for having rescued the bank. Mel asked the sheriff for more information about Jeff's gang. Then loaded his luggage and those of Ben on the two horses, and left Yuma, going towards the north-west.
It was the Fall of 1882.
Mel the Kid's legend had begun.