TEXAS LONGHORNS
By
Waddie Greywolf
Chapter
25
After five years
of living with the Winchesters, Dwayne couldn’t see continuing to spend
money for room and board when he could be living at the ranch. He
could’ve continued to live with Spencer and Donna for nothing; in fact,
after high school they offered if he would consider staying. Dwayne and
Rance discussed it, but they weren’t the kind of men who didn’t pay
their way. They thanked the Winchesters graciously, Dwayne declined
their generous offer and paid them room and board for the three extra
years he stayed with them. They came to love Dwayne and became
two of his greatest supporters. In the Winchester’s eyes, Dwayne could
do no wrong. While Spencer and Donna weren’t that old, Dwayne
sort of thought of them as his grandparents.
Dwayne would
drop by for dinner several nights a week. He was always welcome,
and Donna made enough just in case Dwayne stopped by. He was
always there when Spencer had a project going, he needed a extra hand,
or Dwayne would drop by just to help him finish quicker. The
Winchesters would drive out to the ranch to have dinner with him.
They’d bring the food and Donna would fix it for them while he and
Spencer spent quality time together.
Rance Harding
was coming home a lot more often. Rance made a great effort to be home
for his boy when he could. He knew Dwayne wouldn’t bond with anyone
else or marry. There was no doubt in his mind Dwayne and Lamar would
grow old together. He also knew his boy would wait faithfully for his
love. Rance didn’t have any problem with that, it just gave him more
time to be alone with his boy. Dwayne leaned on his dad somewhat,
but he was fast growing to be his own man.
After seven
years on the road, Rance began to get more than a little tired of it.
He still loved his job, and worked at it balls-out to make more money
for the company. He never let Sticker down, but he also wanted to
spend more time with his boy. Rance missed out on most of
Dwayne’s life, but now, when he had the opportunity to be with his boy,
he seemed to be on the road all the time. Rance would never complain to
Sticker if his ass was on fire. He was totally devoted to his big
cowboy boss.
Sticker Wiggins
was no dummy. He could see what it was doing to his employee who
also became his friend. Rance still worked as hard as ever for his
boss and made him lots of money; however, it was beginning to tell in
Rance’s health and Sticker could see it happening. Sticker learned from
Sidney to take care of good employees, and they’ll take care of you.
Sticker sat down with Rance and told him what he thought. He
asked Rance, if he found another job for him, where he could be home
more, could his second take over the stock company as ramrod? Rance had
full confidence in his second, Chet Akins, and told Sticker he thought
he could handle the job with no problem.
Sticker promoted
Rance to handle a couple of his cowboy ventures. Rance would still be
overseer of the rodeo stock company, he just wouldn’t be doing the hard
work anymore. Rance was to be Sticker’s representative to make sure
everything was running smoothly. Sidney was giving Sticker more and
more responsibilities, and he in turn, had to delegate some of his
responsibilities to others he could trust. After Rance proved
himself with two companies, Sticker gave him another and later one more
to manage. With each company came a substantial pay increase.
Rance’s income doubled with two, tripled with three and quadrupled with
four. He was pulling down a salary better than many executives with
large companies. Rance took to managing Sticker’s interest like a duck
to water. He was as good a tiger at managing as he was at ramroding the
stock company, and Sticker’s profits soared from the companies Rance
managed.
Rance was still
busy, but he was making damn good money, as well as making a bundle for
Sticker; however, he could use the ranch as a home base and conduct a
lot of his business by phone or e-mails. He still had to do some
traveling, but not nearly as much as he had to do before. A lot of
times he’d take Dwayne with him and began to teach him how to manage a
large company. Rance recovered rapidly from his rundown state and was
doing better all the time. He was happy living at home on the
ranch with his boy. He was very much in love with Dwayne, but as a dad
to his son, he never tried to influence Dwayne away from his great
love.
Sticker
had been
the sole boss of the Lazy 8 for almost ten years. It was still in
the Wainright name, but Sticker handled everything for Sidney. In ten
years Sticker had doubled and tripled the profits from the ranch.
He had no idea his mate had a living trust drawn up that left him the
Lazy 8 if anything should happen to Sidney. Sticker
wouldn’t have wanted to know. He wasn’t that kind of man. Sticker
was in charge of everything at the ranch except running the day to day
operations; however, he would spend a week or more in the saddle with
the cowboys sometimes.
No one but the
ramrod of the ranch knew Sticker was the big boss man. He was just a
neighboring cowboy who came to give them a hand once in a while.
That’s the way Sticker wanted it. He would observe the cowboys,
work with them and get to know them. It rarely happened but once in a
great while a cowboy would be given his walking papers a couple of
months after Sticker’s visit. He didn’t do it too often because cowboys
of any kind were a dying breed of men. The pay was low and the
work was hard. Men really had to love being a cowboy to work so
hard for so little pay. The Lazy 8 paid better than most ranches,
but they also expected the work from the cowboys. Word soon got
around the Lazy 8 was paying top wages, and they never had much problem
replacing a hand.
* * * * * * *
They gave me a
big party at the Harding ranch the day before I was planning to
leave. It was a Saturday and I was leaving the next day. It was
another co-op party where everyone brought something. Dwayne and
Rance coordinated the whole thing. Everyone in town knew Casey
was going to go rodeoing. I think everybody in the damn town was there
to say goodbye and wish me well.
Lamar was home
on two weeks leave. As a Master Sergeant he had a month's leave
every year and he would spend a couple of weeks at Thanksgiving
and Christmas with Rance and Dwayne
on the ranch. He came to think of the ranch and the good folks
who loved him as his family. We certainly thought of him as
family. I swear he was bigger than he was the last leave he stayed with
us. Dwayne confirmed it, he told us we wouldn’t believe his body
now. Dwayne laughed and told us sometimes he didn’t know whether to
make love to him or fall at his feet and worship him. The big, black,
giant man got me aside, put his big arm over my shoulder and walked me
down toward the barn.
“Casey,— my
handsome, cowboy brother, what are you doing? How can you leave
that wonderful man who loves you so much? Our little brother will
take good care of him, I have no doubt, but he ain’t you, Son.”
“Oh, God, Lamar,
please don’t make this harder on me than it all ready is, Sir. I
don’t have anything I can honestly tell you or give you a good a reason
for going. I just don’t know. All I know is something’s calling
me,— I must go. I may never have another chance, Sir. Let’s be
fair about this. Why do you stay in the Marine Corps when there’s
a man on this ranch what worships you and needs you?”
“‘Dasa’ good
point, little brother,— I guess I don’t have a lot of room to ask a
question like that, but I’s jes’ concerned about chu.’ It won’t
always be this way between me and my love, Son. Don’t tell your
brother, ‘cause I don’t wanna’ go git’n his hopes all built up to knock
‘em down, but I’s working hard toward get’n assigned to
Pendleton. One of the commandants there knows me and likes me.
I’ve worked for him before. I think he may send for me when I makes
Sergeant First Class. I’d be in charge of several classes of
recruits in training and their drill instructors.”
“That would be
wonderful, Lamar. Do you think you could live here on the ranch?”
“That’s what I’s
a’ hoping for. It might not be ‘til the end of this hitch and to git
it, they’s probably gonna’ want me to do another four year hitch. They
call it an ‘incentive.’ I jes’ learned me that word a couple a’ weeks
ago. I means it’s like put’n a carrot in front of a horse to make
him go. You give ‘em what they wants, and they give you what chu’
wants.”
“Are you
planning on making the Corps a career?”
“I ain’t thought
that far ahead, Son. I been take’n it day by day, year by year, but if
I put in another four years, I’ll have half the time in I need to put
in for retirement. If the next ten goes by as fast as this ten’s go’n
by, my baby boy and I will be ride’n high. I ain’t gonna’ do
anything before I talk’s it over with my family here and gits their
thoughts. Mr. Rance, Mr. Bard, yore’ daddy, Mr. Winchester, Mr.
Wainright and Mr. Wiggins; I thinks the world of them men, I thinks of
them as my family. I wouldn’t do nothing without talk’n to them men
first. They ain’t never steered me wrong so far.
Of course, I’ll
have to talk it over with my baby boy. He’s been pretty
understanding about sharing his husband with the Corps, and it makes me
love him all the more. In a way, he’s like my carrot in life. I
lives from leave to leave to come home and be with my baby boy. I
don’t do nothing the entire time I’m away from him. I keeps my nose
clean and does my business for the Corps. I ain’t fuck’n up the
finest thing what ever happened to my life.
I never thought
as big as am, I’d ever find me someone to love and love me. My physical
size alone scares most people of any quality away. My baby boy
likes me big. That’s why I work so hard to git as big for him as I
can. When I found out from them men I loves and his daddy what he
done for me to be able to take me and satisfy this big, black giant, I
cried for two days. His daddy done brought out ‘pink floyd’ and
told me how his brothers worked with him for months helping him learn
to take that big piece of rubber.
That’s
also part of why I love’s you and your little brother so damn
much. I gots you two men to thank for help’n my baby boy become
my mate. You don’t know how much you contributed to our pleasure. As I
understand it you men and his daddy still work him over with that big
thing ever' now and then jes’ to keep him open for me.”
“Yeah, we have,
Sir. We love you and we love him. We love you together and the
love you share with our brother, spills out over onto all of us. It
makes us feel good to see you two so happy with each other.”
“I thanked chur’
little brother and I’m a’ thank’n you, my handsome cowboy brother, for
your unselfishness and your love for us. God knows what he’s
doing and my baby boy was right. The Old Man done sent 'dat boy to me
to
be my protector and my guide through this life and he has been.
His love for me and my love for him has kept me on the straight and
narrow. His love for me has brought me the most wonderful men for
family I could ever wish for. He’s the only person I’ll ever love
in this life. I don’t know how I knows that, but I do. I love him
without measure, Son.”
“I don’t think
there’s a doubt in his mind you love him, Sir.”
“He
shouldn’t. I told him never to doubt my love for him and I meant
it. I jes’ want the best for both of us. Now,— you talk to ole Lamar,
child,— tell you’re big brother what you gonna’ be look’n for out there
you can’t find right chear’ in your own back yard?”
“If’n I
tell you, will you promise not to say nothing to my dad?”
“I swear on the
Corps, Son.”
“My granddaddy.”
“Whoah! Child! I
shore’ nuff won’t say nothing to yore’ daddy about him, boy. I
knows he and his daddy done parted ways a long time ago. He done sit me
down an’ told me about his daddy, Son. I don’t blame yore’ daddy
a bit for what he done. If his old man’s really as bad as he
says, and I don’t think yore’ daddy would lie to me, he done the right
thing for him and you. I thinks yore’ daddy’s a wise man, Son?”
“I don’t know,
Sir. I don’t plan to tell my granddad who I am if I run into
him. I jes’ wanna’ meet him.”
“Listen to old
Lamar, child, if you gets yore’self into trouble, you needs help, you
let chur’ brother know and wherever you is, I’ll gits money to you or
I’ll send in the Marines. I got enough pull I can do it,
boy. You understand, Son?”
“Thank you, Sir.
I appreciate that with all my heart. I promise I will if I need help.”
“Good!
Now, let’s us walk back up there and git us some’um to eat. I loves
you, little brother, and I’ll be a’ praying for a safe journey for you.”
“I love you,
too, Sir, and thank you for your kindness and concern.”
Everyman there
within our group took me for a walk and gave me the same speech. Each
one wanted to be the first I called if I found myself in trouble.
Even Sheriff Bard with tears in his eyes made me promise to keep in
touch with him, and if I needed help he would get money to me pronto or
he could have a fellow lawman by my side in minutes. I thanked
all of them sincerely. They all meant what they said, and I had
no doubt they would back up their words with action in a minute if I
needed them.
I told my little
brother my fear of going into Texas with my eyes being a rare color and
folks might associate me with my granddad because of his dark violet
eyes. Little bit always had an answer for any problem. He
took me to his eye doctor. I never knew our little brother wore contact
lenses. He told the doctor what I needed, and he told us that was
no problem. He had colored, soft contact lenses without any
correction in different colors that would change the color of your eyes.
They were
surprisingly comfortable. I bought three pair from him that were a
light blue in color; however, when worn over my dark violet eyes it
made them appear a deep blue color. Little bit said it made me
look even more handsome. I wore them some before I left to get
use to them but never in my dad’s presence. He would’ve known
immediately what I up to and had a conniption fit. I didn’t want to go
through another hour and a half lecture.
When I was
getting ready to leave, my little brother handed me an envelope.
I thought it was just a card,
and he told me not to open it until I got to my first stop. I did as I
was instructed, and when I opened the card two five hundred dollar
bills fell into my lap. It was signed by all the wonderful men in our
family; Rance and Dwayne; the Winchesters; Sheriff Bard; Sidney;
Sticker; my little brother; Frank; Curley; Lamar; all the deputies;
Bodey; Flynn; and lastly my dad. I sat there and cried like a
baby. Only Sidney, Logan and I assumed Sticker knew of my
financial holdings and how much I was worth. Sticker and Sidney
didn’t know who the owner or owners of the thousand shares in their
company was. All they knew was a corporation bought them. I
didn’t really need the money, but it was the gesture that really
touched me.
It was tough
leaving my dad, but I knew he’d be in good hands with my little
brother. He was comfortable with little bit. I knew it wasn’t
going to be easy on dad, but I felt like I had to go. I don’t know why
I felt such a strong draw to get away, but I did. Everything and
everyone I loved was there in our little town. I didn’t know where I
was going or what I was going to do. Many times I’d come to a crossroad
and flip a coin. Wherever chance took me and my pony, that’s where we
went.
I was pulling
our double horse trailer behind the Rambling Ramada, but I only had my
wonderful little pinto roping pony dad gave me for my seventeenth
birthday in the trailer. I trained him myself to be the best damn
roping pony I ever had. I could swear sometime that pony could read my
mind. Little bit confirmed it for me. Growing up and living on a
ranch my daddy taught me not to fall in love with animals because they
were there for our help and our food. I never got attached to any
animal except our old heeler dog and my pony. I love my little
pony and he loves me. I didn’t know what to name him, so I called him
‘pony’ for the longest time. One afternoon I was working with him, and
I heard Logan ask Dwayne if he didn’t think my pony looked like a bowl
of ‘Rocky Road’ ice cream. Dwayne agreed with him, and they
started calling him, ‘Rocky.’ I thought it was as good a name as
any, and since my brothers named him, I give him the name. It really
was the perfect name for him, and he would come to me when I called him
by his name.
I quickly
learned where I could stay so I could take my pony out of the trailer
and walk him a bit. I had to think of my pony as well as myself.
It was good because he probably kept me out of a lot of trouble. It was
a bit easier at recreational vehicle parks where I would ask for a
space as far to the back of the lot as possible to walk my pony.
Most of them were pretty accommodating; however, every now and
then I’d run into a bastard who was a hard nose and just wasn’t about
to cooperate.
“If you wanna’
space, you take what we assign you!” One big asshole barked at
me. I’d
walk out, and if I had to drive all night to find another place, I
would.
I knew it was
going to be tough without a roping partner, but I developed another
roping skill over the years;— calf roping. I got pretty damn good
at it, too. The last year dad and I went around to all the local
rodeos, I entered the calf roping competition as well as team
roping. I was winning almost as much at calf roping as we were in
team roping.
I had my little
brother help me do an internet search before I left. I had a
print out of the dates and times of most of the bigger rodeos and many
of the smaller one. Little bit was so thorough he had them listed
several ways; by dates; alphabetized; and size. I would put a
sign on the double ‘R’ that read: Championship Team Roper looking for a
partner. I didn’t get a lot of takers. I ended up having to calf
rope to win any money.
I was doing all
right. I found out it was sometimes easier to get a partner at a small
town rodeo than it was the larger rodeos. Them good old boys
would take pity on the kid and toss a few with him. When they
found out I was better than pretty good they all wanted to rope with
me. Sometimes small towns had more talented ropers than were roping on
the circuit. I gave up the idea of trying to do the circuit. I
didn’t have a partner to go with me, and while I was a good calf roper
I was still a long way off from the professional cowboys who rode the
circuit.
I was at a rodeo
almost every weekend. I’d pay my entry fees, and because I was a
registered contestant, I would be allowed to park the Rambling Ramada
on the grounds. Most, except the very smallest rodeos, had RV
hookups. The double ‘R’ was fully self-contained if hookups
weren’t available.
I spent several
weeks rodeoing in Nevada and small towns in Northern Arizona. I
wanted to attend the Tucson rodeo, and I got there about three days
early. I tried to find an RV campground, but I couldn’t find one
I liked. I was about to give up when I pulled into a gas station
to gas up and asked the attendant if he knew of any RV campgrounds that
were decent.
“Naw, don’t know
of any. You here for the rodeo, Son?”
“What gimme’
away, Sir?” I laughed. He laughed with me.
“You all by
yourself?”
“Yes, Sir, jes’
me’n my pony.”
“Tell you what,
lemme’ make a phone call.”
He went into the
station, and I could see him on the phone talking to someone. He
returned with a piece of paper with an address and a small map to a
ranch ten miles outside of Tucson called the ‘Broken Arrow.’ With a
man’s name under it, Dan Yates.
“This here’s a
map of a rodeo friendly ranch about eight miles from here. It’s
owned by a fine man I’ve known for years. His name is Dan Yates
and his partner’s Billy Gunn. They be champion ropers. I think
you’d fit right in with the crowd he has around there. They’re
jes’ now starting to gather. I jes’ called him, and they’re expecting
you. Said for you to git chur’ ass on out there, they be
wait’n dinner for you. Jes’ follow this road about eight miles
and it’s on the left. Big ole sign says, Broken Arrow Ranch, you
can’t miss it.”
About that time
there came a hell of a racket as sixteen big motorcycles pulled into
the station and hailed the owner by name. He returned their salutations.
“Hey,
Waddie! Hey, Titus! Howdy Jim! Beau! Chief !
Blaine! Ain’t seen ya’ll in a long time.”
Four huge men
got off their Harleys, walked over and looked me up and down. Several
were wearing the strangest looking leather pants that had a pouch at
their crotch where I assume their dick and balls might fit. I found
them incredibly sexy. They had snaps on them and they looked like they
could be easily removed. It was like seeing a man’s dick and
balls in a leather wrapping making it into a compact package, a gift
just waiting to be opened by some lucky person.
'Waddie?
That name was familiar. Ain’t a lot a’ men named Waddie. Naw it
couldn’t be.’ I thought to myself. The ‘Waddie’ I knew was just
like his name;— a big, older, fine looking cowboy; the man who used to
beat me and dad all the time at team roping with his partner from
Ramona. He hadn’t beat us in the last couple of years,
though. Of course,— he wasn’t competing either. That ‘Waddie’
wasn’t a biker.
The closer the
men got the more I could swear it was the same man. He was a decent
enough looking older man, but just on the boarder line of being ugly,—
well,— maybe ruggedly handsome; however, he had on a pair of the
leather pants with a pouch and big, tall, black, heavy motorcycle
boots. He had on a big leather jacket, and his complete package was
sexy was hell. He made my heart skip a beat;— no, make that
two beats. Right behind him was a fine looking older man I heard the
big man call Titus. The one he called Chief was obviously American
Indian. He was almost as big as Waddie or Titus. Chief’s road
buddy was a good looking man named Blaine. He was a very
attractive, handsome man.
The big man, the
biker, the owner of the station called Jim was huge. He was much like
Waddie, border line ugly, but his complete package was very sexy, too.
He wasn’t as big as Lamar but damn near. His road buddy was a handsome
middle aged man named Beau. dd Now they were closer I was sure this
man was Waddie Claymore, the big old cowboy who lives on a ranch about
ten miles Southwest of Warner Springs. He’d been to lots of our
football, basket ball, and baseball games to cheer us on. I knew
he and Sticker were big friends.
“Ya’ll headed
out to the Broken Arrow?” the owner of the station asked.
“Yeah, we’s on
our way, but we couldn’t go by without stopping to say ‘hello.’ You
gonna’ come to the rodeo this year, Fred?” Mr. Claymore asked the
station owner.
“Oh, yeah!
Me and my boy’s gonna’ kick you’re ass this year, cowboy.”
The big men
roared with laughter.
“I hope you do,
Fred! It’s about time you done it.” Mr. Claymore responded.
“Who you got for
a partner this year, Waddie?” Fred asked.
“I may not rope
this year, Fred. Ain’t got me no partner for the Tucson
rodeo. So you and yore’ boy jes’ might win this year.” he
laughed. “We’re headed to my hometown for the Fourth of July
rodeo, and I’ll rope with my boy there. I asked him to come to Tucson
and rope with me, but he’s sheriff of the county now, and got too many
responsibilities. Who’s this fine looking young cowboy, Fred?”
“Don’t know his
name yet, but I jes’ called Dan Yates, and he said to send him on
out. They’s waiting dinner for him. Ya’ll better git out there,
too, if’n you wanna’ git’ some of Mrs. Russell’s cooking. If you
don’t git there before they feed Griz you may not git none.”
They all laughed.
“Would ja’ look
at the color of this young man’s eyes. Holy crap, now that’s something
you don’t see ever’ day. Waaaait a minute! I know one young
man what’s got them violet eyes. Don’t live too far from me,
neither. What chore’ name, Son?” Mr. Claymore asked me.
“Casey Longhorn,
Mr. Claymore”
He looked at me
with surprise, he smiled real big as recognition came across his face.
He grabbed my hand with his big hand and started pumping it. That
wasn’t good enough for him. He pulled me into his big arms for a hug.
God, I was surrounded by leather, and it smelled wonderful. I
always thought Mr. Claymore was a fine looking cowboy, but in his biker
leathers with a black bandana tied around his head he looked meaner
than a damn Brahma bull. My dick started to get hard and leak in
my Wrangles. He looked right down at my crotch and saw it, too.
He grinned and winked at me.
“Hoe-lee
shit! Damn, Son,— it’s good to see you again. Sorry I
didn’t recognize you right off. Is yore’ daddy with ya’?
Ya’ll come to rope in the Tucson rodeo?” Mr. Claymore asked like
he’d found a long lost friend.
“I come by
myself, Mr. Claymore. I don’t know if you know or not, but my
daddy got his legs shot off in Vietnam. He does all right on his
artificial legs; good enough to rope and ride in local rodeos, but a
long trip like I’m taking would be too much for him, Sir.
Besides, he’s got our ranch to run.”
“I never knew,
Son, but I ain’t never had much chance to talk with you or your dad. I
know’s Sticker Wiggins thinks the world of you and yore’ old man.
Yore’ daddy,— he be a fine look’n man, Son.”
“Damn,
Waddie! Do you know ever’ body? We can’t take you no wheres
you don’t know somebody.” the huge man appropriately named
‘Big Jim’ interrupted.
“Don’t know
ever’ body, brother, but I knows most men who toss a rope in our area.
It’s a small group of men, and we know each other from local rodeos,—
ain’t ‘tat right, Son?” He smiled and winked at me for
confirmation.
“‘At’s right,
Sir. I didn’t recognize you ‘til you walked up. I’m more use to seeing
you sit a pony. Ain’t never seen you without a cowboy hat.”
“I guess you’re
right. Me and my brothers here, we’re on a run to Key West, Florida on
our bikes, but we’re stopping by some old friends to attend the rodeo
this weekend. This fine looking gentleman here, he be my road
buddy for this run. His name is Titus. The biggest man here, his
name is Big Jim for obvious reasons.”
Mr. Claymore
went on to introduce me to the rest of the men. I shook hands with all
of them.
“Good to meet
you, gentlemen.”
“Got yore’self a
partner for the rodeo, boy?” Mr. Claymore asked me.
“Naw, Sir, not
yet. Since I’m traveling alone, it’s kinda hard to find a decent
partner so I mostly jes’ do calf roping.”
“Ya’ any good,
kid?” Big Jim asked me.
“My daddy and I
won every major rodeo in the Western states cept’n parts of Arizona and
New Mexico. We never ventured over to here. It was too long a
trip for my dad.”
“He’s damn good,
brother! Don’t know’s me and Winston could beat him and his pa,
now. Sorry about yore’ pa losing his legs, Son. We know
about Nam. Titus and me, and them two over there,— they was over
there. We know what chore’ daddy went through. Tell you
what, we’s headed out to the Broken Arrow. Why don’t chu’ jes’
follow us, and we’ll get chu’ out there? Oh, and by the way, if’n
a big Grizzly bear comes out to greet us, don’t be afeared. He be
an old friend. Jes’ stick close to us, and he won’t hurt cha’
none.’” All six of them laughed. I thought they were
bullshit’n me. Come to find out, they weren’t too far wrong.
They waited
patiently as I got the double ‘R’ on the road and they took off. I had
no idea what I was getting myself into. I knew and really liked
Mr. Claymore, but these men looked for all the world like ‘Hell’s
Angels.’ Well,— to be fair,— the geriatrics contingent of the ‘Angels.’
Who knows, they just might get drunk, rowdy, rape and rob me; however,
I wondered if you could get drunk on Geritol. ‘Well,—’ I thought to
myself, ‘three out a’ four ain’t bad. I really wouldn’t mind if Mr.
Claymore raped me. I’ve had a hard-on for him for a long time; always
did think he sat a fine horse. That man rode like he was born to
the saddle. I certainly would like to find out how he rode in my
saddle.’
I wonder
if’n he might be into raping a young man. If there’s a God Mr. Claymore
will take me and have his way with me. I remember my daddy telling my
little brother, you can’t call it rape if’n you be a willing victim. I
laughed to myself. What the hell, a big man like him probably
loves cunt.
We got to the
ranch and a fine looking older man and his partner came out to meet us.
They introduced me all around. The man who owned the ranch, Dan
Yates’s partner, Billy Gunn, they called ‘Cowboy.’ He helped me
get my pony out of the trailer, we took him to their barn, put him in a
stall, fed and watered him. Rocky looked around and snorted his
acceptance. The accommodations, while not luxurious, were
comfortable he allowed. He could walk out the back into a large corral
area for exercise. While we were putting ‘Rocky,’ in the barn, Cowboy
hollered to someone I couldn’t see coming down a stairs inside the barn.
“Hey, Griz, come
on over here and meet this young cowboy, his name is Casey Longhorn.”
I turned around
and before me stood a huge man. He was every bit as big or bigger than
Lamar. Damn he was big! He was covered in hair. He
had a full beard and mustache and I could see hair sticking out from
under his Western shirt. Even the tops of his hands were covered in
hair. I almost swallowed my tongue. This had to be the Grizzly Mr.
Claymore warned me about. He certainly was as imposing as one,
but there was an aura of goodness about him. There was a light in his
eyes that comforted me and as imposing as he was, I wasn’t the least
afraid of him. He stuck out his big paw.
“Nice to meet
chu,’ Mister Casey.” The big man said softly as he shook my hand.
“Just ‘Casey,’
Sir.” I smiled at him.
“I’m jes,’
‘Griz,’ Casey. Yore’ eyes is a pur-tie color, Casey. I only
seen me a couple a’ men in the last thirty years what come to the ranch
with eyes like yores. Yore’ granddaddy give you them eyes.”
He said shyly as a statement, not a question, like he knew without a
doubt.
Oh shit!
Why was my dick getting hard? Oh Lord,--- I suddenly felt someone
in
my head. The feeling was unmistakable. Dwayne and I learned
when our little brother was trying to get into our heads, but this was
nothing like Logan. I was almost as good as Dwayne in locking him
out if I didn’t want him rummaging around in my mind; however, this was
a powerful tap. I doubt seriously I could’ve locked this person
out. Whoever it was knew the minute I felt them. They knew I
recognized I was being tapped, and they withdrew in a flash, like a kid
caught with their hand in the cookie jar. I could’ve sworn I heard a
nervous laugh.
“Thank you,
Griz, for the compliment. Yes, Sir, my granddaddy done gimme’ my
eyes. How’d ju’ know that?” I asked suddenly realizing how he
knew.
“It’s a long
story, Casey. We’ll tell you later. Griz has some unusual
talents.”
Griz smiled at
Cowboy’s words.
“Yeah,— my
little brother does, too, he kin get inside yore’ head.” I told
Cowboy.
“Griz, has that
ability, too. He can git inside animals heads as well.”
“So can my
little brother. I’m use to him, so it don’t bother me none.”
Griz was on his
way to the big house for dinner with the other men. Damned if Waddie
wasn’t right, he looked like a damn Grizzly bear. He even walked
like I would imagine one to walk. I was more than a little impressed by
his size. I wondered what hung between his legs. Griz
turned to me and smiled.
“To find that
out, Casey, you’ll have ta’ spend the night with me in my
den.” He looked at me and winked as I turned beet red. My God he
read my mind quicker than shit through a goose, but I didn’t feel him
that
time. He was damn good! Almost like our little brother, but
our little bit wasn’t yet as good as Griz.
“Griz,— go easy
on our young cowboy guest. He jes’ come among us, he ain’t use to
us yet. You stay outa’ his head, now,— ya’ hear? That’s an order, Big
Man!”
“Yes, Sir,
Master Billy. I’m sorry, Casey. You make my dick hard, too.”
I blushed even
more, but I placed my hand on Griz’s huge arm to let him know it was
all right. He didn’t mean any harm and it seemed to be his way of
making me feel welcome. ‘Did I just hear him call Cowboy, ‘Master
Billy’?’ I wondered to myself. Griz looked at me smiled, winked
and nodded his head ‘yes’ to the question in my head. I knew
Cowboy didn’t see him. I smiled and nodded to him I understood. I
leaned
in to him and spoke loud enough Cowboy could hear.
“I really don’t
mind, Griz. I have no secrets, but if you choose to tap me, at
least let me know you’re there."
“I will,
Casey. You felt me. You knew I was there. It’s the first
time I’ve
met anyone who knew I was in their head.”
Girz went on
into the main house, but Cowboy walked with me to the double ‘R’ and
showed me where to park it.
“Nice rig ya’
got here, Son.” Cowboy said as he gave me a hand hooking up the
utilities. They had spaces for about a dozen motor coaches.
A big, older, GMC motor coach was sitting next to the space he told me
to park in.
“That big GMC
motorcoach over there is ours. We used to use it a lot when Dan
and me was riding the circuit years ago, but we ain’t got much use out
of it lately. We takes it to L.A. ever’ now and then and to my
hometown in Texas for an annual rodeo we founded when I lost my first
Master.”
‘Master?’ I
thought to myself, ‘What the hell did he mean? Cowboy was
Griz’s Master, and Dan Yates was Cowboy’s Master?’ This was all
too confusing. I wasn’t going to ask.
“Did you do good
on the circuit, Sir.” I asked Cowboy.
“National
champions four years, and I was National champ way back before you was
born in the sixties. I was sent to Nam with Dan’s boy Buck. He was one
of the greatest loves of my live, but he and two of my best buddies was
killed saving my life over there.”
“Damn, that’s
hard, Sir. My daddy lost his legs over there, but he still
manages to rope and ride with his artificial legs. He taught me to
rope. We done won ever’thing in our neck of the woods. He
couldn’t come with me because it woulda’ been too hard on him.”
“I can
understand that, Son. Come on, young man, we done fed your pony,
let’s us go put on the feed bag.”
He took me into
the big house and into a huge dining area. There was a long
wooden table covered in oil cloth with three picnic benches down each
side. They were each about six feet long, so the table itself had to be
at least twenty feet. Dan Yates sat at the head of the table and
because he was so big, they usually sat Griz at the opposite end in his
own big
chair; however, since there was only a few there he sat on the other
side next to Dan Yates. Everyone was standing up around the table
waiting for us. The
men joined hands around the table. Dan said a brief prayer of
thanks, and we all sat down to eat.
The food was
wonderful. The lady who did the cooking was Mrs. Russell and she
was a great cook. She had a Hopitu American Indian lady and a Mexican
lady assistants. It was family style, and they kept filling up
the bowls. The food was delicious and there was lots of it. I sat next
to Cowboy, across from Mr. Claymore and his road buddy. I watched
the big man at the end of the table. He didn’t gobble down his food,
but he ate steadily; and, he ate a lot.
“You get the
boy’s pony fed and watered, Son?” Dan asked Cowboy.
“Yes, Sir,
Dad.” Cowboy responded.
'Dad? He
called Dan, dad? I wondered if,— ‘Ah,— ain’t none of your
business, Casey.’ I thought to myself. ‘However, Cowboy told me
Dan’s boy was one of the great loves of his life. Humm.— ’
Two of the men
at the table I assumed were ranch hands were also fine looking men.
They looked enough alike to be brothers, maybe even fraternal twins. I
found out later they were father and son. Their names were Boots and
Sonny. I heard Sonny call Boots, dad, and it made me wonder about
them, too. Once in a while I would hear one call another man ‘Master,’
but I had no idea why. I didn’t know what the hell was going on, but I
knew I was more comfortable and relaxed with this group of men than I’d
been in a while. They gave off the same collective goodness the
good men in my hometown did. Cowboy seated me next to him. I told him
quietly I was confused about what folks were calling each other.
Cowboy laughed and ask how old I was. I told him I just turned
twenty-one a couple of weeks ago.
“Well,— I guess
you’re old enough. I’m Billy Gunn the third. Boots and Sonny are
my kin, and their real names are Billy Gunn Junior and Billy Gunn the
third. Are you more confused now? Boots is Sonny’s Master but he
also happens to be his dad .”
“I’m a little
confused, but I ain’t overly anxious about it. It brings up all
sort of other questions in my mind, but it’s rude to ask folks about
private things. My dad told me if they want you to know, they’ll tell
you; otherwise, you shouldn’t ask. I’m jes’ grateful to find you men
and for a decent place to stay for a couple of days. I ain’t had me no
good company in several weeks now, and I miss my loved ones I left
behind in my hometown. I thought going out on my own would be a
wonderful adventure, but it ain’t been nearly as great as I thought it
might be. I thought I’d be so busy I wouldn’t miss them, but I
do.”
A tear came to
my eye, but I quickly wiped it away. Cowboy didn’t miss it, he
put his arm around me to comfort me.
“I know how you
feel, Son. It’s a long story about this group of men, but I’ll tell you
later. If you wonder why some men call their partner ‘Master,’
I’ll explain that to you as well, or— if you get lucky tonight, they
might explain it to you.”
I didn’t ask
anymore, but I certainly knew what the term ‘getting lucky’ meant. If
only it was true, but I assumed they were all paired off. When
Cowboy told me about getting lucky, Mr. Claymore was looking directly
at me. I blushed when he winked at me. Oh, dear Lord,— he knew.
He could see it in my eyes. Rance told us one night at dinner, cowboys
knew that sort of thing about each other. I was beginning to think he
was right. I wondered if that included bikers?
I knew Mr.
Claymore was a cowboy and worked as a hand on a working ranch. What was
I doing thinking about this man that way? I guess I made a fool of
myself. I tried hard not to look at him, but he was sitting
directly across from me. My eyes kept coming to rest on his
ruggedly handsome countenance. My ole dick was hard the whole
time. I wondered what it might be like to make love to the man sitting
across from me, and kiss him on his lips. His hair was a handsome, pure
silver in a short crew cut, and his neatly trimmed beard and mustache
was the same color. Rather than make him look older, it seemed to round
off his appearance and fame him in a maturity that was more than a
little appealing to me. He looked like he probably could be older than
my granddad, but damnation he was a sexy man. He dripped
sex. My old dick got hard looking at him and thinking of the
nasty things I could do with him; at least, until he popped my plug out
of my butt to take me. Damn,— my plug! I forgot about that!
I wonder if my plug would be a big a turn off for him?
‘Hardley.’ I
head a voice in my head say.
I looked at the
huge man sitting across the table next to Dan Yates. He usually
sat at the other end, but when there was only a few or just family for
dinner he sat on one side of Dan and Cowboy sat on the other. I smiled
at Griz and nodded to him.
“Thanks,
buddy.’ I projected toward him. He smiled and nodded back
to me.
Mr. Claymore was
obviously with the handsome man sitting next to him, though he didn’t
seem
to be paying him much attention, other than to talk to him now
and then. Titus seemed to be a quiet, reserved man. I could
tell by the way Titus looked at his road partner, he was taken
with him. He looked at Mr. Claymore like he was the last donut in
the box and everybody else had one but him; however, I also noticed Mr.
Claymore seemed oblivious to the way Titus’s was looking at him. Maybe
he wasn’t aware. Maybe he just didn’t know. I had no way of
knowing what their relationship was all about.
‘Mr. Claymore
don’t know his road buddy is secretly in love with him. That’s
why my Friend brought you two together here at the same time.
You're gonna' share with Mr. Claymore what you see, and it'll
make him become more aware. He loves, admires and respects his road
buddy, but Mr. Claymore
don’t think he’s good enough for Titus.’ Griz came to my rescue
and explained.
‘Well, he’s damn
sure good enough for me, big buddy! I’d beg that man to fuck me
‘til Alaska melts!’
Griz started
chuckling. I winked at him and he blushed. Everyone at the
table was looking at him.
‘Be patient,
little one, you’ll get your chance tonight. He ain’t been with no one
since his mate, Zane, died six years ago. He let a man suck him
off in a dark
corner of a bar one night, but that’s it. My Friend knows what he’s
doing. Mr. Claymore,— I call him Master Waddie,— he ain’t thought
of nothing else since he met up with you at Fred’s Texaco station but
split’n yore’ fine looking little cowboy ass with his big dick.
He didn’t just stop for gas, young’un, he stopped to check you
out. You have to be with him for a while to bring him around to
realizing he’s still a good and worthy man. When you do, then his heart
will be open and he’ll be ready to take Mr. Titus for his slave.’
I smiled and
nodded my understanding. Cowboy saw our exchange.
“What’s that
giant man tell’n you, Casey?” Cowboy asked me after seeing Griz
blush.
I laughed. Griz
went back to eating his dinner.
“Nothing, much,
Sir,--- he jes’ told me he though I was pur-tie, again.”
“Griz, what’ud I
tell you?” Cowboy asked Griz smiling.
“Please, Mr.
Cowboy, it weren’t his fault, I asked him a question, Sir.”
“You can jes’
call me, ‘Cowboy,’ Son.”
“Thanks, Sir, I
appreciate that.”
“Well, okay,— he
don’t never fail to obey me. He’s a good slave and I love him.”
I watched Gris
get a big grin on his face and he blushed again. We all laughed
at his shyness. He was so good natured. After dinner everyone
went to clean up and was going to meet in the big spa on Dan’s back
patio. The patio had a high adobe wall surrounding the area
and was completely private. Dan offered me the use of their bathroom
when they got through showering. I went to the coach to get my
small bag in which I carry my private stuff. They were through by
the time I got back so I decided to clean myself,— just in case,— you
understand,— by some miracle,— I might get lucky. I decided to
insert my plug. I discovered if I squeezed my butt cheeks together you
couldn’t tell I was wearing it.
When I went out
to the patio most of the men were all ready in the large spa. Dan
and Cowboy loaned me a big towel to rap around me to walk to the
patio. When I dropped my towel and walked to the hot pool there
was wolf whistles and cat calls from all of them because of my dick. I
was use to it by now, and it didn’t bother me. I sat on the edge and
gently lowered myself into the hot, bubbling water. I made sure I sat
on the other side of Mr. Claymore. That way I didn’t have to look
directly at him. I could appreciate him more by sitting next to
him. Titus was on his other side and Cowboy was on my side. I’d
never been in a spa before, but I knew I was going to like it.
“Well,— now we
know where he got the name ‘Longhorn.’” Dan Yates said and everyone
laughed and agreed.
“The kids at
school used to call me the ‘longhorn.’ They’d cut out and glue pictures
of longhorn cattle to my locker. I made every kid who took their
time to cut one out and paste it to my locker sign it. By the
time I was a junior in high school you couldn’t see the metal door of
my locker for all the longhorn cows pasted on it.”
They thought
that was a good and funny story. Someone got up to make a beer run and
asked if I wanted a beer. I declined.
“I don’t drink,
Sir, but thanks for asking. I tasted it several times, but it
tastes like horse piss smells to me.”
Cowboy fell out
laughing and almost choked.
“I’m the same
way, Casey. I’d much rather drink my Master’s recycled beer than
drink a regular beer.”
That kind a’ hit
me between the eyes. What did Cowboy mean,— recycled beer?
What the hell was he talking about,— drinking Dan Yates’ piss? I never
heard of a man drinking another man’s piss before. God, I could
never do that. That’s just too awful to even think about. That’s
down
right nasty. Ah, he’s got to be kidding me. They’ll tell me in a
minute they’re pulling my leg.
“Is Mr. Yates
your Master, Cowboy?” I asked him quietly.
“Yes, Son, he
is, I’m his slave. He owns me. We own Griz together,— right, big
man?” Griz was sitting next to Dan Yates with his big
hairy arm resting on the cement deck behind Dan’s shoulders.
“Yes, Sir, Mr.
Cowboy, I’m proud to be owned by you and Master Dan, Sir.”
“And do you
drink your Master’s recycled beer often, Sir?”
Everyone near us
broke up laughing at my question. Mr. Claymore leaned over to speak to
me in a low voice.
“That ain’t beer
in the can he’s holding, Son.”
“Oh, I
see. Sorry, Sir.” I said to Cowboy.
“‘At’s all
right, Casey. You couldn’t have known, Son. Our way of life is
new to you. It probably sounds horrible to you. It did to me at
first. Then I fell in love with a big ugly, magnificent
beast of a Master who required it of me, so I learned to like
it. It’s not so far out when you get use to the idea. Mahatma
Gandhi, the great Hindu leader of India, drank a cup of his own urine
every day of his life. No harm
done. Forget about it.”
But I
couldn’t. That’s just disgusting. Could one man love another so
much he’d do that to please him and learn to enjoy it? I had to think
about that one. If that was part of Gandhi's religion I knew I'd
never become a Hindu.
“Was Longhorn
your family’s original name, Son?” Mr. Yates asked me trying to
get off the previous subject, because I was becoming embarrassed for
being so stupid.
“Naw, Sir, Mr.
Yates. My daddy didn’t tell me until I was around seventeen he
change our name before he went to Vietnam to keep his daddy from
finding us. He hates his dad and from what I’ve heard he has every
right to. His cousin told his son and me, we couldn’t imagine
what his daddy put him and his younger brother through when they was
growing up. I guess he was a hell fire, damnation, religious right wing
fundamentalist. He was very rigid in his beliefs, and the way he
related to others.”
All the men
shook their heads like it was a damn shame.
“My daddy done
went and got my mom pregnant with me when he was only a kid not out of
high school yet. It embarrassed and enraged his dad, but if that
weren’t bad enough, he
caught my dad and his buddy, Bubba Swansey, sucking each other’s dicks
in
the barn one afternoon.”
There went up a
big laugh from the men. It told me a lot about these men. I noticed Mr.
Claymore, who was sitting next to me didn’t laugh.
“What’d you say
the man’s name was, Son?”
“Bubba Swansey.”
“Humm,— ” was
Mr. Claymore’s only response. “I’m sorry, Son, go on with your story.”
“My granddaddy
threw my dad out and told him never to darken his door again. He
wouldn’t have no sodomite living under his roof. My dad married
my mom before he left for boot camp, but shipped her out to live with
her aunt in a small town in Southern California outside San Diego about
thirty miles. When he came home on leave he officially had his name
changed to Longhorn so’s his daddy could never find him. The army
also changed his name and sealed his records so no one would know his
previous name. My dad’s little brother told his dad he was just
like his older brother, but he left his old man before he could throw
him out; however, not before he roped, hog tied his dad and made love
to him against his will.”
“Woah!”
said a few of the men. “That’s heavy!” said Mr. Claymore.
“He done
like my daddy, lied about his age, went and joined the army the next
week, was sent to Nam and killed the
first couple of weeks he was there. I never got to know
him. My daddy told me I look like a double for his little
brother. Our cousin, Rance, told me dad’s little brother, Seth,
had the same color eyes and the same size dick as me.”
“You don’t mean
Rance Harding what’s ramrod of the Lone Star Rough Stock
company?” Dan Yates asked me.
“Yes, Sir,
it’ud be him. His boy, Dwayne, and I grew’d up together.”
“Son of bitch,
it’s a small world, but it’s even smaller in the rodeo world. Their
company’s provided the rough stock for every major rodeo in this area
for the last ten years. We’ve met Rance Harding several times, we
know him well. He’ll probably be here this year, too. He’s been to the
ranch here a couple of time and damn it, I knew I’d seen violet eyes on
a man before. They were Rance Harding’s. You remember Rance,
Cowboy.”
“Yes, Sir. Fine
looking man. Damn good cowboy, too.” allowed Cowboy.
“Yes, Sir. He’s
got ‘em, too, but his boy didn’t. My granddaddy has ‘em, he give ‘em to
his youngest boy, but my daddy ain’t got ‘em.”
“Rance told me
and Cowboy, over a beer one night, the story of how they run in his
family. I won’t say nothing about it here, because you might not want
it known what your original name was.”
“Thanks, Mr.
Yates,— I appreciate your thoughtfulness and consideration.”
I saw Titus
leaning over and whispering something in Mr. Claymore’s ear.
“Naw,— ain’t a
snowball’s chance,— ” Mr. Claymore said to Titus.
“Trust me.” I
heard Titus reply.
There was other
conversation around the pool and a few told outrageous stories about a
big biker named Beryl and two elephants they kept at the ranch for
several years. Mr. Claymore leaned over to me and spoke directly
into my ear so none of the rest would hear.
“Would you like
the company of an older cowboy/ biker this evening to share your bed,
Son?”
“I’d be honored
and down right proud, Mr. Claymore, but I have to be honest with you,
Sir. I ain’t never been with no other man but my dad, my two cousins
and my little brother. I hope I won’t disappoint you, Sir.”
“I doubt
seriously you could disappoint me, Son. I’d be more afraid of
disappointing you.”
“I don’t think
so, Sir. For a mature man you look pretty damn good to me. I have ta’
be honest with ya,’ Sir, my dick’s always hard when I’m around ju.” I
told him. He laughed and put his arm around me.
“Mature man,—
humm,— them’s nice words, Son. How do you want me,— cowboy or
biker?”
“Biker, please,
Sir. I want a closer look at them pants of yours. I can see you
as a cowboy tomorrow.”
Mr. Claymore
chuckled like he understood my request.
“I know from
what I’ve seen here tonight you have to be a Master,— right, Mr.
Claymore ?” I asked him.
“That’s right,
Son, but chu’ don’t have to worry none about that. Whatever we do
will be man to man; one on one. You have nothing to fear from me. I
don’t want nothing unusual from you; certainly nothing you ain’t
comfortable with. I’d like to make a little love to ya’ and fill
that sweet cowboy butt of yours for ya.’”
“Wow!
Sounds good to me, Mr. Claymore. Thank you, Sir. Whenever you’re
ready, let me know, and I’ll go to my coach and wait for you.”
“You go along,
and I’ll be there directly, Son.”
I excused
myself, told them I’d been driving all day, and I’d like to get some
rest. I thanked Mr. Yates and Cowboy for their hospitality, and I
told them how much I appreciated it. I said a special thanks to Griz in
my mind. He smiled and nodded at me. I got out of the pool,
toweled myself dry, walked into the house, put my clothes on, gathered
my personal items and walked to the double ‘R.’ Thirty minutes
later there came a knock on my door.
I open it and
there stood before me a fine looking, mature man in full leather.
My heart leaped to my throat. I knew I’d made the right choice for the
evening. Mr. Claymore was like a comfortable old pair of boots, or an
old friend, someone from home I could relate to. Seeing him at rodeos
for several years, I never imagined I’d ever get to be up close and
personal with the big man. I new I wanted to be held in his arms,
and share some love with him. Somehow, I just knew he knew how to
do
it. I turned the night latch so we wouldn’t be disturbed.
“This is really
nice, Son. I had no idea these things were this roomy and
luxurious.”
“Thank you, Sir.
I call it the Rambling Ramada, or the double ‘R’ for short. Won’t
you sit down. Can I take your jacket, Sir?”
He took off his
jacket and handed it to me. I almost dropped it, I wasn’t aware of how
heavy it might be. I put it around one of two extra dining
chairs. He sat there with his legs apart, with his arm thrown
back across the couch smiling at me.
“Can I get you
something to drink, Mr. Claymore? I’m afraid I only have sodas.”
“I’m fine, Son,
come sit by me.”
I walked over
and sat down next to him. He put his big arm around me, pulled me
into him and kissed me gently. I returned his kiss with a little more
passion. He responded in kind. I was running my hand over his
leather shirt and all over him, but he wouldn’t let me touch his
crotch. I wanted to explore it and feel his maleness underneath hid
leather pouch. He
quietly told me to wait. I had an almost uncontrollable urge to get up
close and personal with his pouch. I new it contained something I was
going to enjoy, but he told me to wait. We broke off our kiss.
“I was surprised
when you asked me if I wanted company for the night, Mr. Claymore.”
“Why’s that,
Son?”
“I thought Mr.
Titus was your partner.”
“Naw, we’s jes’
road buddies. We’re the only two single men on our run so it
makes sense for us to pair up wherever we stay to save room and
expenses. I appreciate the thought though, it’s kind of a nice
compliment. A man’s good looking and handsome as Titus
would never look at a butt ugly old cowboy like me. I lost my mate
about six years ago, and Titus lost his slave shortly thereafter.
“Then, he’s a
Master like you, Sir?”
“Well, that’s
kinda hard to say, Casey. He was the slave of one of the most
hard charging Masters and colorful figures our family ever had as a
member. His Master took on a second slave with the understanding
the young man would become a slave to both of them. It wasn’t as
bad as it might sound. They both loved the young man very much
and he, in turn, worshiped them. When Titus’ Master died it
was their understanding and his Master’s wish, Titus would become full
Master to their surviving slave.
Titus did as his
Master ordered and became the boy’s Master. He was his Master for
almost fifteen years until he passed away five years ago. So, its
never been clearly defined what Titus might prefer now. We’ve all been
together for so many years, no one would even think about pushing him
to make a choice. He’s never tried to take on another mate,
but I know men have offered to become his slave. He’s so good looking
and masculine, he looks like a Master.
He keeps his
body fit, and he looks like a Marine Corps drill instructor. He
could have any man he wanted for a slave. On the other
hand, he’s never said anything about becoming a slave to a man
again, either. I jes’ assume, Titus still wants to be a Master.
We’ve known each other over thirty years. We’re good friends, but
we’re not close enough to discuss his personal life. I don’t know
if he has any interest in that sort of thing.
I don’t have no
room to talk. It’s been six years since my slave died, and I haven’t
had the heart to even think about sex let alone take another
mate. I’ve had offers, but I just can’t seem to bring myself to
go with anyone. You may not believe this, but you’re only the second
man I’ve been with since my mate died. The other was some faceless guy
I let suck me off in a dark corner of a bar in San Bernardino one night
just to get my rocks off; however, there’s jes’ something about you,—
an innocence perhaps, I find very attractive, and you make one hell of
a fine looking cowboy, Son.”
“I believe you
and thanks, Mr. Claymore, but I don’t think you’re ugly, Sir. You
look like a man's suppose to look to me. I’m more attracted to a man
like
you, big Jim, Chief or Griz than I would be your road buddy, Cowboy, or
the man they call Beau. Blaine,— well, I’d have to think about
him
some.”
“Well, thank
you, Son. That’s a nice thing to say.”
“What is the
purpose of the pouch on your pants, Sir?” I asked him.
“It’s called a
cod piece, Son, and it’s basically so I can have sex without having to
remove my boots and leather pants. If a man offers me a blow job
I don’t have to undress. I just pop the snaps and let it all hang
out. I can also fuck a man in my leather pants with my boots
on. It just makes on-the-go sex easier. It’s also a lot cleaner
when I wear leather pants. I don’t care how many times a man
shakes his dick after take’n a piss there’s always a small amount that
dribbles down his pants. If I dribble in the cod piece, and I always
do, I can jes’ pop it off and wash it. That way my leather pants don’t
end up smelling like a billy goat.
“That sounds
reasonable. I can understand that. Maybe we should all wear
them. May I ask one more question, Sir?”
“You wanna’ know
about the patch what covers my asshole and why it has snaps on it?”
“Yes, Sir.” I
asked meekly, kinda embarrassed.
“What da’ ya’
think it’s for, Son?” he grinned at me.
“For a man to
make love to your asshole, Mr. Claymore?”
“Damn,— you’re
right, Son, but how’d ju’ know? You ain’t been around the
block that many times to know that sort of thing.”
“My daddy kissed
and ate my clean ass before he took me for the first time. I had to ask
him to stop because I almost came. I had an idea that’s what it
was for, I jes’ wanted to confirm it for myself. I didn’t think
it would be for taking a shit in your leathers.”
“Well,— it could
be used for that, I suppose. I don’t like to, but a couple of
times on the bike I had to go real bad in the middle of no
wheres. I didn’t want some critter bitting me on the butt, — so I
used it then. Any biker who lives on his bike most of the time will
carry a roll of toilet paper in his saddle bags in case of
emergency. Then I cleaned my pants real good after I got to where
I was going.”
“What I can’t
understand, Sir, is why I have such a strong urge to get between your
legs, make love to your cod piece and feel you grow underneath.
Do you ever allow anyone to do that, Sir?”
“Once in a great
while,— if a man asks me real nice.” He kinda chuckled.
“Mr.
Claymore, I’d be honored, Sir, if you’d allow me to make love to
your cod piece.”
“That’s nice
enough, but you must take your clothes off first. I never allow a boy
to make love to my cod piece unless he’s naked.
“Yes, Sir.
That’s understandable.”
I was going to
my bedroom to undress.
“No, cowboy,—
take your clothes off here in front of me, so’s I can watch.”
Something
in the tone of his voice told me not to argue with him, but his
firmness with me made my dick get instantly hard. Dad would talk
rough to me and order me around sometimes in his boss man’s
voice. My dick always got roaring hard when he did, and he knew
it. He’d laugh at me. He did it sometimes just to see if he could still
make me hard by doing it. It always worked.
“Yes, Sir, Mr.
Claymore.”
I quickly
undressed in front of him and laid my clothes over the same kitchen
chair I hung his jacket on. I was careful I didn’t bend over with
my butt towards him. I didn’t want him to discover my plug quite
yet. I hoped it wouldn’t upset him or he would look upon it as
weird. I know Griz told me he would be upset with it, but you
never know.
I stood before
him naked as a jay bird, but somehow, I didn’t feel the least
embarrassed. I felt an unspoken connection with him all ropers feel for
each other. It’s sort a’ like a brotherhood. We’re just
comfortable with each other. I felt like it was right for me to be
naked in front of this big man. I felt it was my place to be naked with
him.
He looked me up
and down and smiled at my erection. My dick was roaring hard.
Seeing him in his leathers didn’t cause it to relax a bit. I
wondered how big his dick was? He got into the pool before me and
left after I did. I didn’t get a chance to see his dick. I went
to him and knelt in front of him looking at my prize. Up close his cod
piece was big. It was big enough to hold a good size penis and a
heavy set of balls. I didn’t just start making love to it. I knew
instinctively, with this man I should pull out my best manners and dust
them off.
“Mr. Claymore,
Sir, may I start making love to your cod piece, Sir?”
“It was polite
of you to ask, boy, and because you were so courteous, ‘yes,’ you have
my permission to make love to my cod piece.”
I started in
just kissing it all over and thought to myself, ‘This ain’t gonna’ get
it. I want to taste the damn thing. It looks and smells
wonderful. He smells like a man should. He smells like my
dad after a hard day in the saddle. I sometimes feel like I could eat
my dad he smells so good to me. I knew damn well I’d eat Mr. Claymore’s
cod piece, piss dribbles and all, if he’d let me.’
“May I clean it
with my tongue, Sir?”
“I’d be proud
for you to, young man. Enjoy it, taste it all you like.
Just remember, courtesy will take you far in life and most times get
chu’ what chu’ want.”
“Thank you,
Sir.”
I didn’t waste
anytime licking and cleaning his big cod piece. I could taste the
leather. I could taste and smell his maleness through it. It
became terribly erotic to me. I could feel his dick begin to grow
underneath, and I knew I wasn’t going to be disappointed. He had
a big dick. He began to get hard and the more I licked, cleaned
and probed with my tongue the harder he became. I discovered how
his balls were laying in the pouch and began to push them around with
my tongue as I continued to clean. This was going way beyond
sensual. This was bordering on tripping my come switch.
Mr. Claymore was
getting harder and harder until the head of his big dick began to poke
out the top of his cod piece. I could see the beautiful head of
his uncircumcised penis. It reminded me of a jack-in-the-box
filmed in slow motion. The more I licked and cleaned the further out
the top of his cod piece it stuck. I really worked hard covering
every inch of his pouch with my tongue.
“You’ve made
fine love to my cod piece, Son. Would you like to remove it for me?”
“Yes, Sir, Mr.
Claymore, I’d be honored, Sir.”
“You must not
remove it with your hands. You may only use your mouth. Run you
tongue under one of the snaps, grab the corner in your teeth and pull
it off. It’ll snap right off. After you have it off, hold it in
you mouth until I put my hand under it then you may let it drop into my
hand. Do you understand, boy?”
“Yes, Sir, Mr.
Claymore, I understand, Sir.”
I felt very
carefully under one of the top snaps, found the corner, grabbed it with
my teeth and pulled back. He was right, it snapped right
off. He put his hand under it, and I dropped it into his
hand. There he sat with his big cock and balls completely exposed
surrounded and framed by the black leather of his pants. His dick was a
bit longer than mine but not as fat. My dick didn’t look like a regular
man’s dick anyway. It looked like a missile or a torpedo.
Mr. Claymore’s dick, looked like a man’s dick should look. It was
beautiful to behold. He was semierect but not hard.
“Some men like
to clean the inside of my cod piece to get some of my stronger flavors
out of it. I told ju’ I wouldn’t ask anything of you out of the
ordinary and cleaning the inside of my cod piece might be a little
advanced for you. It might be thought of as out of the ordinary.
It’s up to you, Son.”
Oh, God, I
wanted to please this big man in the worst way. It would make me happy
to please him. It would make me feel so damn good to please him.
I knew it probably contained his pre-come and several other
body fluids an hour ago I found disgusting to think about. Why
was I feeling this way? I didn’t care what body fluids were on
the inside of his cod piece I had to clean it and taste his stronger
flavors.
“I would be
honored to clean the inside of your cod piece, Mr. Claymore.”
He simply handed
it to me.
“Here, Son, hold
it to your face and cover you eyes, nose and mouth. Don’t pull it
away until you think you’ve done a good enough job cleaning it for
me. Do you understand, boy?”
“Yes, Sir, Mr.
Claymore. Thank you, Sir.”
I didn’t say any
more but plunged my face into the darkness of his cod piece. It
easily cover my face and I took a deep breath. Damn, there was
nothing foul or distasteful about the odor of his cod piece. It
smelled like him, and I greedily began to suck and clean the inside of
his male pouch. I must have licked, cleaned and sucked his good flavors
out of his cod piece for fifteen minutes or so until I felt I couldn’t
get more. I slowly and regrettably took if away from my face to see him
with a pleased smile on his face and his big dick in his hand slowly
stroking himself.
“Did you get all
you wanted, Son?”
“Yes, Sir, and
thank you, Mr. Claymore, Sir. I’ve never done anything like that
before, but it was a treat, Sir. I enjoyed it very much.”
I handed him
back his cod piece, and he sat it on the sofa beside him.
“I’m glad ju’
did, Son. I don’t wanna’ do anything you wouldn’t enjoy.
That’s not my purpose being with you tonight. My purpose is to
give you as good an experience as I can while being gentle but
controlling. If I’m gonna’ take something from you tonight I wanna’
make damn sure you enjoy giving it up to me. Are you enjoying me
telling you what and how to do these things?”
“More than
anything I’ve experienced in a while, Mr. Claymore. Is this the
way a Master treats his slave, Sir?”
“Pretty much,
Son. A real Master ain’t out to hurt no one. He’s
controlling because it’s his nature, and he would only try to be
controlling with another man who consented to his controlling him. I
tried a couple of things with you to see how you might respond, and you
responded favorably. You seemed to enjoy me taking charge of the
situation, and you’re very eager to please me. That’s good, Son.”
“Yes, Sir, I’ve
enjoyed it very much, Mr. Claymore. Its been wonderful so far,
Sir. I don’t mind if you tell me what to do at all. It takes the
fear of doing something wrong or something you might not like away from
me. If I do what you tell me, within reason, I know I’ll please
you. Is that right, Mr. Claymore?”
“That’s exactly
right, Son. I won’t ask you to do nothing you don’t wanna’
do. Shall we continue?”
“Yes, please,
Mr. Claymore.”
End Chapter 25 ~
Texas Longhorns
Copyright 2005 ~
Waddie Greywolf
All rights
reserved ~
Mail to:
waddiebear@yahoo.com