WACO’S
LUMMOX
By
Waddie Greywolf
Chapter
53
Commander
Hawkins checked out Officer Jones before they left his quarters to go
the Holy Prophet’s apartments. They were both naked as was the
custom of the Temple Guards. They were used to being open and
free about their nudity. It was amazing how quickly the far right
fringe of Christianity easily accepted the nude Temple Guards because
it pleased their religious leader. Scudder claimed they were
closer to God with nothing to hide. Scudder found some obscure
bible passage where David, the young future king of the Jews, danced
nude before his army in praise and thanks to God for their
victory. If it was good enough for David, it was good enough for
Scudder, who was often heard to say, “Gimme’ dat old time
religion.” Of course they never took into consideration David and
King Saul’s son, Jonathon, carried on a torrid homosexual
relationship. Jonathon’s father King Saul threw a spear at his
son and accused him of sleeping with David as a woman sleeps with a
man.
While in the
colonies, on the Bandersnatch, Jones and Hawkins dressed as the natives
depending on the occasion, but they were surprised there were as many
nude events and gatherings as there were fully dressed occasions.
Of course any function involving families, being clothed was usually
considered appropriate, but there were also family events where people
were free to be naked. If you didn’t want to be nude or see
people naked, you just didn’t go to the event. The commander
reached down and gently fluffed Officer Jones’ cock and balls for
him. Jones returned the favor for his boss. They were set
to go. They arrived at the Holy Prophet’s apartments in a stretch
limo and were ushered in by more of the massively built Temple Guards
of the Holy Order who surrounded and protected Scudder. Scudder
warmly greeted both men as did Taycious and dismissed the guards to
leave them alone. After greeting him, Scudder held Brett Jones at
arm’s length to look at him.
“You don’t look
like you’ve been ill. You look quite healthy and have a nice
ruddy glow about you, but something’s different. I can’t quite
put my finger on it.”
“I feel just
fine, Holy Father.” said Jones, “I had the best of care, food, exercise
and couldn’t have wished for a better, more protective companion than
the commander. I very much appreciate you letting him come to be
with me. It meant so much to me.”
Scudder was
impressed with Jones. Before, he was lucky if he got a couple of
words and a few grunts out of him. He seemed more open and sure
of himself. ‘Maybe that’s what happens to a man when he looks his
own mortality in the face.’ Scudder thought to himself.
“What have you
men been doing while you were gone, Commander?” Scudder addressed
Hawkins.
“For the last
week we were working our butts off helping to save and repair bladder
whales on the surface of Venus, Holy Father. The two herds were
attacked and facing extinction from a nasty group of aliens known as
the ‘Grays.’ They are the classic Gray critter you see in UFO
magazines with huge, black almond shaped eyes. They are a slave
race to a more advanced race called the ‘Reptiles.’ With orders
from their masters, they launched a major attack on the hapless whales
to bring terror to the Venusians in an attempt to bring them back into
line under reptilian authoritarian control.”
Austin Taycious
gasped for breath and all the blood drained away from Jerry Scudder’s
face. Brett Jones offered his hand for support. He
thought Scudder was going to collapse.
“My God! You men
know about the Grays and Reptiles?” Scudder belched.
“Yes, Sir.
We ain’t seen us a snake person yet, but we seen plenty of the dead and
dying Gray critters.” Jones backed up Hawkins. He continued, “Our
hosts and associates heard of the attack and asked for volunteers to
join them. The Commander and I were in good shape and held up our
hands. We thought my healing powers might come in
handy. We managed to help our friends save as many of the whales
as we could. Many were beyond our help, but we saved more than
died.”
“Venus?
You’re telling me there are animals and people on Venus?”
“Yes, Sir.
The people look similar to us except they’re a bit taller, blonde
haired and blue eyed, but they ain’t as big as us. They live in
great caverns under the surface. Only the whales and their
symbiotes live on the surface.”
“While you men
were away we had a visit from one of the reptilian leaders. He
gave us an ultimatum. We either submit to their rule and
dominance or they plan to systematically wipe us out. You
wouldn’t believe what they want and expect from us. We haven’t
given them an answer yet. We have thirty days. We’ve known
about the Grays since the forties, but we never knew they were slaves
to another race. We got a lot of information from them by back
engineering several of their saucers that crashed. We even
captured a few and managed to keep them alive for several years, but we
never got much out of them. They are filthy creatures, liars and
deceivers. In the early
fifties they agreed to a treaty with President Eisenhower they would
provide us with certain technology if they were allowed to harvest a
specified number of people for testing and other things. The
other things you don’t want to know about. They also wanted the
freedom to steal cattle from our ranchers and farmers.
They
didn’t live up to their end of the bargain, there was an altercation in
the early sixties and communication was cut off. Since that time
they’ve been doing pretty much what they damn well pleased, except
within the last five years, the ranchers and farmers have found some
way to fight back. The Grays haven’t been free to take what they
wanted anymore. We have no idea what the ranchers are
doing. Granges around the country are so closed with secret
memberships and meetings it’s difficult to penetrate with our
agents. They just won’t trust an outsider. Unless
you’ve lived in an area for years, are well known, you don’t get in and
they thoroughly investigate someone before they allow him to
attend even a general meeting. They’re tighter to break into than
the
old KGB. We’ve heard stories from locals of the Gray ships being
shot down while in the act of stealing cattle, but by the time we send
our agents there’s not a trace of the downed ship anywhere and the
locals claim they didn’t see nothing. Is them two angels
responsible for that?”
“Naw, Sir, not
at all.” spoke Hawkins. “We don’t know how they operate. We were
housed in a community much like any rural community in the West, but it
was by itself like it was in another dimension; like it was removed
from time and space. There were only a few places you could go
and then you had to pass through some kind of gate to get there.
It was a technology we didn’t understand. We passed through
a gate and ended up on Venus and helped their small space fleet of four
ships save their whales.”
“What’s so great
about some whales?” Scudder scoffed.
“Oh, Holy
Father, you would have to see them and hear them to understand.
They communicate with one another and others of their kind throughout
the galaxy. They have great, strong voices and sing the most
beautiful songs. I was honored by being asked to sing with
them. It was one of the greatest thrills of my life.” said
Officer Jones with his eyes almost glazed in memory of his first sight
of the great Chuchulack. Scudder could tell the man was deeply
moved and changed by his experience. Scudder had seen that look
on the faces of supposedly ‘born again’ Christianist which never lasted
much longer than their next plunge into the reality of the modern world.
“There’s more,”
continued Scudder, “but we can catch up as we go along. And you,
Officer Jones, are you in good voice? Will you be able to perform
at Sunday services this weekend? The public is clamoring to see
and hear you again. We didn’t hear from you men in almost a week
and we were beginning to worry, but it sounds like you were doing some
good work. I had Austin issue statements we fabricated you were
doing fine and were expected to return any day. I’m having Austin
release a statement to the press this evening, but I wanted a chance to
see you myself.”
“I am ready,
Holy Father. I won’t let you down.”
“Are you ready
to assume your other duties as well, Son?” Scudder asked in a softer
voice. No one in the room missed his meaning.
“I am here to
serve you, Holy Father.” Jones bowed his head.
Scudder walked
over to him and took Jones’ cock and balls into his hand and fondled
them. Brett immediately became erect. He threw back his
shoulders, spread his legs a bit and locked his arms behind his back in
‘parade rest.’
“My memory must
be going. I don’t remember you being quite so large, Officer
Jones.”
“I discovered I
have another talent, Sir.”
“What’s that?”
“I can adjust my
size.”
“No!” exclaimed
Scudder.
“Hold on to me.”
Jones invited Scudder.
Scudder held
onto Jones’ cock and felt it begin to grow. He felt his lower
hand growing heavier as Jones’ balls grew in proportion to his enlarged
cock. Jones let it grow until it was twice its original size.
“Are you
watching this, Austin?”
“I can’t take my
eyes away.” Taycious stated.
“Holy crap,
Son. That’s fantastic. I guess you really can fill my tank
with that hose.”
“As much as you
need, Sir, and then some. All you have to do is let me know you
can use some more and it’s yours to command.”
“Holy
crap! What hath God wrought?” Scudder remembered Alex Bell’s
comment.
“Praaaaise
Jay-zus! Glow-rie hal-lee-loo-ya!” exclaimed Taycious in a
facetious parody of Katherine Kuhlman, “Now if you only had a white
horse to ride in on to make your grand entrance, Norman.” Taycious
giggled wickedly. Scudder shot him a look that would’ve cut off
his oxygen supply.
“Shut up, you
worthless faggot!” Scudder slammed him but grinned wickedly.
“What’s any
person’s worth when they’re screaming for more cock, sweetie?” Taycious
fell out laughing. Jones and Hawkins had to stifle a
laugh. “Seems to me like you done hit the jackpot. You got a
brother at home, Officer Jones?”
“Naw, Sir, Mr.
Taycious. I’m the only one.”
“Just my
luck! Damn, Jerry, it just ain’t fair. You have all the
luck.”
“My offer is
still open.” Scudder challenged him. That finally shut him
up. Scudder didn’t let go of Brett’s cock and balls until Jones
returned them to his normal size which was a little smaller than he
originally presented himself.
“That’s
amazing. I’d like to take it for a ride after while, Son.”
Scudder said, not in a joking manner.
“I’m yours for
the taking, Sir.”
“Good,
good. Stay around and after we have a bite to eat we’ll send
these two on their way so we can be alone for a while.”
“Sounds good to
me. You’re looking good, Sir.”
“Thanks,
Son. I cut out the junk food, and I’ve been exercising more;
sliming down and firming up.” Scudder beamed that his main man noticed
his improvement. It was at that moment Jones realized what an
egomaniac Scudder was. All he had to do was push the right
buttons,
say the magic words, perform well, and he had an easy ride to the
apocalypse and his rapture.
That evening
Scudder did, indeed, get taken for a ride. After the wonderful
sex Brett had with Basil he wondered if he’d be able to keep his
interest in Scudder. For a moment he didn’t consider his major
physical change and his ability to rise to any occasion. It was a
simple exercise of mind over matter, and he was quickly learning to be
the master of his own body. Having sex with Scudder was nothing
new, and he could successfully apply one situation to another easily
enough. At least he didn’t have to make love to Scudder. He
was thankful for that small favor. In all the times
they had sex together Scudder never made an overt effort to kiss
him. There was a lot of touchy-feely and hugging, but never any
love making. Scudder’s idea of foreplay was to shake hands.
All he wanted was Jones to fill his cunt with his big cock and ride him
until Scudder got his gun, but he would sometimes reach a deep internal
vaginal climax if Jones fucked him hard to get his own
climax. He would always give Jones a hug before parting and
compliment him on his performance. Sometimes if he was really
good, Scudder would slip him a hundred dollar bill. Jones always
took it. He never considered himself a whore. He looked
upon it as a gratuity for a job well done.
This was one of
those evenings when Scudder’s little pussy was starved, and it was as
greedy as it was hungry. After he reached his clitoral climax,
Scudder begged Jones for bigger and more. He could feel Jones
growing and swelling inside him until his penis was on the boarder of
being uncomfortable. Scudder pushed his cunt up tight against the
base of
Jones’ cock, and Brett took that as a signal to start his fuck to
climax. Scudder rode him like a cowgirl with a new set of
spurs. ‘Whoever said bigger ain’t necessarily better was a fuck’n
liar!’ he thought to himself. Just as Jones was reaching the peak
of his fuck and Scudder could feel the big man’s ejaculation building
within him he started fucking back, riding Jones as hard as he
could. Jones called out to him, “I’m there, Sir. I’m
coming!” Scudder could feel Jones’ ejaculate flowing warm and full
within his cunt. He open himself like he never had before and a
huge euphoric warmth came over him like no other climax he ever
had. His fluids were mingling with Jones’ to bathe his depths in
the sweet flavors from the passion of hot sex. Scudder felt like
every nerve in his body was alive responding to Jones’ final thrust and
subsequent collapse.
Jones relaxed on
top of Scudder, planted deep within him like a tap root on a great oak
tree. For once in his life, Scudder was fulfilled. He never
had a religious experience to compare with Jones’ fuck. This was
a new Jones. A bigger and better Jones than the man he sent off
with the angels, wizards, or whatever the hell they were. He
wasn’t worried about them. He had bigger worries, but he was
grateful they sent him back his toy, repaired and in better shape than
ever. He could forgive a few things for the fuck he just
experienced and the afterglow he was feeling lying beneath Dumbo Jones.
That’s what was
different! Jones no longer looked like Dumbo. It was his
ears. Was his ears smaller? Yes, by God, they were
definitely smaller. Could he adjust any part of his body?
Why not? He would discover quite a few new things about his sex
toy which would come to amuse and amaze him. They lay hooked
together until they could smell their body fluids ripen and mix gently
with the sweet, fresh fragrance of an oncoming rain storm. Just
for fun Jones enlarged his penis a bit more to max out his partner’s
cunt. Scudder never felt anything so completely satisfying in his
life. Jones continued to fulfill his prophet’s sea until they
could hear the sound of distant thunder and rain began to fall softly
on the patio outside Scudder’s apartment. It was a tired,
old rain on a new world. It had risen and fallen countless times
before. There is love and promise in a gentle rain, but a hard
rain can foretell a time of great calamity.
* * * * * * *
The day was hot
and Shane was working hard to finish the job his straw-boss gave
him and three other cowboys. Since he'd been back from Venus it
seemed like Ramrod Birdsall assigned him to all the shit jobs.
Shane never complained or questioned his foreman. Neither did he
project any concern to Birdsall. He and the three cowboys worked
hard to complete the project. One was a quiet man
Shane admired and respected for years named Cole Jenkins. He
learned many things from Cole about animals, husbandry, his fellow man,
work ethic and how to keep good counsel with his own soul. There
were many rumors about why such a seemingly good man as Cole was a
slave, but no one knew the truth for sure. He never talked about
his life, and Angus and Bill Birdsall respected the privacy of their
slave’s past. He was in his late forties and kept to
himself. He worked hard and never tried to shirk work or slack
off so someone else would have to carry his load. Cole was a
little taller than Shane and had a body that was hard and sinewy.
He was a tall, six foot six, massively built, fuzzy, barrel chested,
strong featured, hyper-masculine man. He was the very definition
of a man’s man. Some said he looked like a double for an old
movie actor from the nineteen sixties, Clint Walker. Cole had the
same vocal delivery as Walker when he spoke with a soft, Southern, West
Texas lilt to his speech.
At twenty-eight
Shane was twenty years Cole’s junior and considerably more buffed than
the older man, but Shane wasn’t sure he could take Cole in a fair
fight; not that it would ever happen. Aside from his relationship
with his master, Bill Birdsall, and his brother, Angus, Cole Jenkins
was the only cowboy slave for which Shane harbored a deep abiding
respect and affection. He was one of a few cowboys who quietly
encouraged Shane when he was a baby slave. He refused to offer
sympathy and be manipulated by being pulled into a self-pity situation
with him, but he
always seem to be there for him when Shane needed a strong,
understanding, helping
hand and didn’t think he could go on a minute longer. They never
talked much, but just being around Cole was a great personal and almost
spiritual comfort to Shane. He smiled to himself as he thougth no
job was a 'shit' job as long as he was working side by side with the
big man. Cole just seemed to exude a quiet masculine presence
Shane found palpable. He was never more at peace and felt better
about himself than when he was working with Cole. He knew
without asking Cole thought Shane was a good man and a fine cowboy.
The other two
cowboy slaves were older men who tried to work, but were well past
their most productive years. They took a break every thirty
minutes to walk over to the water can to get a drink. Shane
didn’t care. He could do the work of five men and not be
breathing hard when he finished. Besides he set a law for
himself. He wouldn’t go for water until Cole went. After
three trips to the water can the two older men brought him and Cole a
paper cup of water back with them. Cole stopped long enough to
take the cup of water and thanked the older man. He motioned for
Shane to take his. They swallowed the water in one gulp and
immediately went back to work. Between Shane and Cole and what
little help they got from the other two men they finished the job ahead
of schedule. They were walking back to the barn with their
tools. Shane and Cole were walking together well behind the other
two men. Shane glanced over at the fine looking man who had his
shirt thrown over his shoulder revealing the briar patch of his thick
chest hair. Shane wondered what it would feel like to lay his
face down on his hairy rug supported by his huge slabs of pectoral
muscles and with his tongue playfully lick and tickle the man’s giant
teats surrounded by a proportionately large dark areola; then,
plunge his head deep onto it as he sucked Cole's tit until his head
imploded. He grinned at his wicked but stimulating
thoughts. It wasn’t the first such thought he’d had about the big
man, and he knew damn well it wouldn't be the last.
“Thanks, Cole.”
he said quietly. Cole looked at him and smiled. He didn’t
ask ‘what for,’ he knew Shane like the back of his big, gnarled,
calloused hand. He knew Ramrod Birdsall had been rough on Shane
since he'd been back from his brief trip with his brother and
nephew. Cole had no idea where Shane was or what he had done, but
he knew Birdsall wasn't happy and seemed to be holding a grudge
against his young friend.
“You’re welcome,
Son.” he said.
“You know I love
you, don’t you, Cole?” Shane said.
“Of course I
do. I love you, too.” Cole responded without nuance.
“I know. I
just needed to tell you. I jes' needed to hear myself say it.”
Shane smiled at him.
“Glad you did.”
Cole said quietly.
“Me, too.”
Shane said with resolve.
They walked
along slowly until Cole stopped and set on a stump. He motioned
for Shane to sit on another close to him. The sun was setting
making the clouds look like long strokes of an artist’s paint
brush. They set for while enjoying the view of nature’s
handiwork. After a minute or two Cole spoke.
“You going for
your hearing next week?”
“Yes, Sir.
I don’t know what to do. Got any advice for me?”
“Look at me,
Shane." he said as a rough lament, then continued, "I’ve wasted my
life. I’m the last person you want
giving you advice. I just wanted to tell you
something. We’ve worked almost everyday together for ten years,
shared some good times and some bad. I’ve watched you grow up,
mature and take on a lot of responsibilities in the past several years,
and I almost feel like you’s ma' own boy. If you were my son, I’d
tell you not to be afraid to reclaim your freedom and take probation if
the judge decides you’re ready for it. I know you’re ready,
Shane. I have faith in you. Don’t let the fear of life
or the love you have in your heart for Master Birdsall and Master
Angus or any man, including me,
keep you a slave for another five years. It’s gonna’ take you
five years to readjust your thinking to being a free man. Don’t
spend that five years as a slave and have to spend another five after
that learning to be free. Do you understand what I’m saying,
Son?” Cole had an almost desperate, pleading sound to his voice.
“Yes Sir, Cole,
I do, and I appreciate it. You’re important to me, and I respect
you. I’ve come to look on you as the dad I never had. I was
hoping you’d say something. You make a good point I ain’t
considered. I promise, I’ll think on it.” Shane assured him.
“Good, that’s
all I ask, but I want you to know, whatever you decide, I won’t never
stop loving you.”
“I know you
won’t, Cole.”
“Good.
Now, let’s us put our tools away and get cleaned up for supper.”
Nothing more was
said. The weekend was approaching and Shane was looking forward
to a relaxed couple of days hanging out with the other
cowboy slaves. Lately he never knew what kind of mood his ramrod
would be in and tried to avoid him if he was cold and sullen. He
stayed in his room by himself a lot or hung out at the buckhouse with
his cowboy salve brothers. Friday morning early, Angus got him
out of
bed and told him to put on his work clothes. He told Shane to get
into his truck, he was going to loan him out for the day, and he would
take him there. It all seemed mysterious to Shane, but he knew
better than to question his master. Angus pulled out onto the
gravel road to the blacktop and turned right. He handed Shane a
brown paper bag.
“Here’s your
breakfast. Eat it on the way. There’s a bottle of OJ and a
bottle of milk in there for you. There’s a thermos of coffee
under the seat. Shane looked into the bag and found two thick
sandwiches. One ham and eggs and one bacon and eggs. He
began to eat and poured Angus and himself a cup of coffee.
“I’m taking you
over to Judge Potter’s ranch for the day. He’s alone since
his wife died, and he don’t get around so good no more. He needs
some wood chopped for his fireplace for this winter and a couple of
other small chores he needs done. I want you to do a good job,
and when he’s through with you, he’ll call me. I’ll come back
over and pick you up. Any questions?”
“Naw, Sir,
Master.” Shane answered with his mouth full. He was really
enjoying the sandwiches. They were made just the way he liked
them. At the bottom of the big sack he found a small plastic
container of cottage fried potatoes and a plastic fork.
“I wanted you to
have a good breakfast ‘cause I don’t know if he’ll be able to feed you,
so you might not get anything to eat until suppertime when we get back,
but I’ll make sure you have a good evening meal.”
“Thanks, Master,
but this should do me for a while.”
“I don’t have to
tell you to do a good job for the old man, do I, slave?”
“I’ll do a good
job, Master. I’ll make you proud of me.” Shane said without
emotion, but he was thinking, ‘Gimme’ a break! How many times do
you have to remind me I’m a fuck’n slave. I know what I am, and I
always do my best for you.’
“Good.
That’s what I wanted to hear.” Angus didn’t challenge him further.
They arrived at
the Potter ranch and the old man came out to greet them. He
looked to be in his late sixties, but he didn’t look all that old to
Shane. He seemed pretty spry as he bounded down the front steps
of his
huge, rambling two story, vintage ranch house in his Western clothes
and wearing a wide brimmed cowboy hat. Judge Clarence Joe Potter
looked like many men of the old West who worked hard all their lives
and had faces that looked like they could have been chiseled out of a
slab of rawhide or latigo leather. Shane remembered how handsome
and attractive he was sitting behind his judicial bench ten years ago
at his trial when he sentenced Shane to ten to fifteen years
indenturement. Since that time he had seen the old Judge several
times in the community and at church but never spoke to him. He
stuck out his big hand to Angus.
“Angus
Goodnight. How good to see you again.” The men shook hands, then
Angus snapped his fingers for Shane to respond. Shane fell to his
knees in front of the old Judge and kissed each of his cowboy work
boots. He expected the old man to know the slave ritual, but
instead the judge spoke to him.
"That’s fine,
slave. Get up. Rituals make me nervous.” Shane got up,
bowed and dusted himself off. Potter turned to Angus.
“Won’t you come
in for a cup of coffee, Angus?”
“I appreciate
the kind offer, Judge, but I got to git on back over to the
ranch. We’re expecting some new stock and a couple of new slaves
this morning. I need to be there.”
“I
understand. I can’t thank you enough for the loan of your slave
today. We should be finished up by early afternoon. I’ll
give you a call.”
“I’ll leave him
with you, Judge. Use him as you see fit. Have a good day,
Sir.”
“Thanks,
Angus. Look forward to seeing you this afternoon.”
Potter waved to
Angus as he turned his truck around and left. He turned to Shane
and smiled.
“Come,
slave. Have you had your breakfast?”
“Yes, Sir.
I ate on the way.”
“I’m just
finishing up. My housekeeper arrived early this morning and fixed
my breakfast. Why don’t you get started, and I’ll be out to check
on you in a few minutes. Come with me.” he motioned for Shane to
follow him. He walked ahead of Shane around to the back of the
house and out near an old tool shed. There was a cord of firewood
piled up in a huge unorganized mess. It looked like someone
backed a dump truck load to the area and just dumped it.
“I need that
wood chopped and stacked. There’s a big axe inside that door to
the tool shed. You’ll find a couple of splitting wedges
on a bench. There’s an old time foot treadle grinding wheel in
there for sharpening the axe. You’ll find some sharpening oil to
pour into the feed spout in the cabinet. Get started and I’ll be
back in about half an hour.”
“Yes, Sir.” was
all Shane said.
He found the old
axe and even a double jack for pounding wedges. He knew how to
use a grinding wheel and sharpened the old axe with a keen knew edge
like it hadn’t seen in years. Shane didn’t bother with the wedges
or double jack. He thought if the wood was seasoned enough he
could manage with the axe. He was right. The first log he
split fell apart with one moderate swing of his sharp axe. He
split about a quarter of the pile by the time the old Judge returned to
check on him. He was carrying a big bluestone metal pitcher of
cold water with two matching metal cups. The sun was just barely
up and the heat of the day hadn’t yet washed across the land. The
Judge seemed pleased with Shane’s progress.
“Nice work,
Son. Care for a drink of cold water?”
“I’m fine for
now, Sir.”
“I’ll leave it
here on this table in the shade. Take a break when you need
it.” The old man didn’t say more, he went about picking up the
pieces of chopped wood and carried them over to the side of the shed
where there were four, inch and a half by eight foot, galvanized pipes
pounded into the ground which formed a dam for stacking the wood that
he began to neatly pile up. Shane stopped his splitting and began
to gather wood to help to help him.
“No, no,
son. You just keep splitting. You’re doing a fine
job. You let me take care of this. I need the exercise.”
Shane continued
splitting and had all the wood chopped within a little over two hours
worth of good solid work. Only then did he take a brief
break to have a drink of the cool water. The heat of the
day was coming on and Shane’s shirt was already soaked with
sweat. He didn’t care. The moisture kept him cooler.
“Take yore’
shirt off if you’d be cooler, Son. Ain’t nobody here but us men
and my housekeeper, Ms. Huggins. She’ll be leaving in a few
minutes anyway.”
Shane thanked
the old judge and took off his shirt. It was the first glimpse of
Shane's upper development the judge got as he looked the young cowboy
slave up and down. A small grin crossed his face as he
slowly shook his head and went back to his work. The men worked
together in silence to complete piling the wood
next to the shed. They were finished in no time and Shane could
see the old man was pleased.
“That should
last me all winter. Good work, Son.”
“Thank you,
Master.” Shane replied.
The old man had
two older horses. He told Shane they belonged to his boy who was
killed in one of the many Bush/Cheney wars. Shane mucked out
their stalls and put fresh hay down for them. From the amount of
dung
and
hay piled on top of more hay, they hadn’t been mucked out in a couple
of
years. To his surprise the old man worked right along side
Shane. He knew how to wield a pitchfork. He took a break
and insisted Shane stop for a minute and have some water. The old
man couldn't believe the beauty of the young slave standing before him
as the sweat glistened and fell from his chiseled body. He
was breathtakingly handsome. He seemed to have inherited
all the best qualities of his parents genetic capabilites. Potter
felt certain his parents couldn't have done better. As they
stood there the old man spoke.
“It’s hard to
keep up a place like this when you’re alone. As you get older you
put off things until a week, a month, or a year’s gone by and you still
ain’t got it done.” The way the old man said it broke Shane’s
sensitive heart.
“May I speak
freely, Master?” Shane asked.
“Certainly.
You’re free to say anything you like, Son— within the boundaries of
manners and respect, of course. I’d expect that of any man, free
or slave.” he added.
“I understand,
Sir. All you have to do is ask my master, and he’ll gladly loan
me out
to you anytime you need help.” he said with sincerity.
“I appreciate
that, I really do, but in a way that’s sort of accepting charity, and I
just ain’t that way, Son. I guess I could pay him for your
services.”
“Knowing my
master like I do he wouldn’t hear of it.”
“Then you see my
conundrum.” he grinned at Shane.
“I love and
respect my master, but he does have a head what’s almost as hard as
mine, Sir.” Shane grinned at him.
The old judge
let Shane’s words sink in for a minute then spit out a mouthful of
water half-way across the stall as he started laughing.
“That ain’t
always a bad trait, slave. I thank God for them Goodnight men's
hard
heads. His brother, Charlie, is the least hard headed of the
bunch, but he has his moments as well. There are two prizes in
that breed of men and Charlie’s boy Waco tops my list.” Potter didn’t
say who was second and Shane didn’t ask.
“He’s an amazing
young man, Sir. I love him with all my heart.” Shane confirmed.
The men finished
up the stalls. Shane used a wheelbarrow and carted all the muck
to a flat field out behind the barn, used a heavy field leveling rake
and spread it evenly on the ground. As they were finishing up the
old ponies came in from the pasture to check out their clean stalls to
give their opinions. Shane noticed the younger one walked slowly
and was limping. The other horse's jaw was swollen. He went
to the lame horse and raised
his right hind foot. His hooves had grown so long he lost one of
his back shoes, and it was beginning to cut into his flesh. He
checked out the others jaw and found a rotten tooth. It smelled
bad and was causing the horse a great deal of pain.
“You know about
horses?" the old man asked.
“Yes, Sir, I’m a
cowboy slave.” Shane grinned.
“Of course you
are. How stupid of me.”
“I saw some
farrier tools in the shed, Master. May I use them?”
“Certainly.
They were my boy’s tools. He went to farrier school to learn to
take care of the horses on our ranch. He used to take care of
them. Can you help them?”
“Yes, Sir.
Give me a minute to talk with them.” the old judge looked at
Shane like he was putting him on. “Look, old friend," Shane spoke
to the first pony, "I know your
mouth hurts, but I can help you. If you let me pull that tooth it
will start to feel better immediately. Then, I can trim you and
your mate’s hooves and make you a new set of shoes.” The horse
stamped his feet and shook his head from side to side. The judge
wasn’t grinning any more. The pony looked like he was responding
to Shane’s words. “If you don’t
let me pull it, infection might set in, and you could die.
Besides, your breath smells really bad.” Shane made his
argument. The lame pony whinnied and shook his head up and down
in agreement. Still the older horse wasn’t having any of it.
“All right, I have some tricks that will make the pain go away. I
have to go to the shed for a minute for a tool. Excuse me,
Master.” Shane said as he headed for the tool shed. He got
inside and spoke out loud.
“Kyron are you
following me?”
“Always.
Way ahead of
you, Captain Shane. I’ve contacted Ping and she’s sending Jack
and Jill to assist you. I’ve located Jesse Watkins and Utah and
they’re available if you need them.”
“Much
appreciated, friend.” smiled Shane.
“It is nothing,
Captain Shane.” Kyron said. There was a bright flash of light and
Jack and Jill appeared. They ran to Shane and jumped into his big
open arms.
“Thanks for
coming, guys. I need your help.”
<< Always,
when you need us, Captain Shane. >> projected Jill.
Judge Potter’s
mouth dropped open when Shane returned from the tool room with a big
pair of channel locks and two beautiful, brightly colored critters with
him. Jill was riding on his shoulder and Jack was holding Shane’s
left hand skipping and hopping along beside him.
“Master Potter,
may in introduce my little brother and sister, Jack and Jill.
They don’t speak, Judge. Their specie never developed verbal
communication. They don’t need to speak because they can hear
your thoughts." Shane said matter-of-factly.
<<
Welcome, Jack
and Jill. >> the old man projected with his mind. He
thought he
would test them. Jack let go of Shane’s hand and bowed deeply to
the old man, then offered his hand. The judge took it and looked
into Jack’s beautiful eyes. The judge could swear he heard the
handsome critter say, << Thank you, Sir. We’re pleased to
be
here. >> Jill decided not to be so formal, climbed onto his
shoulder, gave him a hug and a quick peck on the cheek. The old
man broke up laughing as she jumped back to Shane.
“Where did they
come from?”
“A planet in
another galaxy far from ours, Master. They are here for a while
as the guests of one of my masters. They were kind enough to
come to me when I called, but they had to get their parents’ permission
first.” Shane smiled as he tickled Jill. She grabbed both
arms around his head and laughed out loud. Judge Potter laughed
at her glee.
“How can they
help you, Son?”
“Similar to our
skunks, they have special scent glands with which they can emit
specially designed pheromones which will sedate the pony long enough
for me to remove his tooth. It ain’t permanent and will wear off
in about thirty minutes, but enough will linger he will be a limp
biscuit for horse shoeing. It will just relax them and make
everything go faster. Okay! You guys go and do your
thing. We’ll stand back.” Shane gently took Potter by his
arm and led him well away from the corral.
The two critters
bounded away, one to each of the ponies. They approached them
slowly and were in mental contact with them immediately. The
horses didn’t shy away. They sniffed them but didn’t seem
afraid. Jack and Jill jumped upon their backs and began to
scratch the old horses. They liked that. Before they knew
what was happening they zapped them with a sedative pheromone that
barely left them standing. They looked like two hippies high on
pot. Jack and Jill waited a few minutes to make sure
it took, then bounded away. They ran up to the old judge and each
took one of his hands to watch. The old man got a big grin on his
face. Shane lost no
time, walked up to the horse with the bad tooth, forced his mouth open,
clamped onto the tooth with the channel locks and yanked. The
smelly tooth came out in one piece. It began to bleed freely and
ran down the side of the animal’s jaw. That’s exactly what Shane
wanted. The first blood and fluids to drain smelled awful.
It was enough to gag a maggot, but eventually the blood began to flow
pure. Shane knew he cleansed the major portion of infection from
the horse’s mouth and the animal’s natural immunities would take care
of the rest.
“If you will
excuse me, Master, I must return my brother and sister to their
parents, but first, I must take them to the shed.”
“Please, let me
see them off, Son?”
Jack and Jill
bowed gracefully to the judge, and he bowed to them in return.
“Thank you for being so gracious to help my animals.” Once again he
could swear he heard in his mind two small voices saying, << You
are most
welcome, Sir. >> Shane lavished them with thanks, love and
tickles. Potter was impressed Shane’s interaction with the
creatures was more one of a big brother playing with his younger
siblings. The love that passed between the three of them was
palpable. They were giggling like school kids as they stepped
away from the men.
"Jack and Jill
are ready to return.” Shane didn’t have to say anymore, a great flash
of light enveloped the two beautiful creatures, and they were gone.
“Can you handle
that, Master Potter?” Shane asked.
The old man had
a stunned look on his face. “I shouldn’t ask any questions,
should I, Son?” he had a stupid grin on his face.
“Only if you
need to, Sir.”
“It makes me
wonder, how far have you traveled in ten years, Son?”
“More miles than
you can imagine, Master.” Shane smiled at him.
Without further
ado, Shane donned a rawhide ferrier’s apron he found with the tools and
began to remove the old shoes from the lame horse. He clipped,
cleaned, filed his hooves and fired up a small foundry he found in the
shed to make the old horses a new set of shoes. He finished
shoeing both horses in a couple of hours. In the meantime, Shane
put some antibiotic cream he found into the cavity of the horse’s mouth
who lost the tooth. He took a clean, damp cloth Judge Potter
brought him from the house and gently cleaned the older horse’s
face. He didn’t seem to mind as the pain was completely
gone. He was already feeling a lot better. Judge Potter was
astounded at Shane’s knowledge and empathy working with the
animals. Shane would talk with them the whole time, soothing and
encouraging them. Potter couldn’t get out of his mind the young
man’s interaction with the beautiful, ring-tailed creatures.
Shane didn’t treat them like a human might treat an animal. He
treated them like special members of his extended family. Then it
occurred to Potter, Shane was treating the horses the same way.
“Where did your
learn to be a farrier, Son?” Potter asked him.
“Cole Jenkins
takes care of all our horses, and I apprenticed with him.”
“That’s
right! I remember Cole Jenkins. One of the best farriers in
these here parts. I think my boy apprenticed with him over to the
Goodnight ranch. Good man, Cole Jenkins. Tragic story, but
he’s been with Angus all these years. He’s lived a safe, good,
clean, healthy, productive life.”
“He’s my mentor,
Master Potter. I love Cole Jenkins like a father.”
“It shows,
slave. Cole Jenkins is a good man to emulate. Ain’t no
doubt about it.” Potter looked like he wanted to say more, but
hesitated and changed the subject. “Them creatures who came to
you when you called... they’re more to you than just animal friends,
ain’t they, Son?”
“Yes, Sir.
They’s a part of my family. They belong to me, but more
importantly, I belong to them,... through my master, of course.” Shane
was quick to add.
“That’s the
politically correct answer, slave, but we can cut out the middle man
here since we’re speaking freely. Ain’t no doubt in my mind they
are your family.”
“Yes, Sir.” was
Shane’s humble reply.
“Everyman should
be so blessed.” mumbled Potter.
It was high noon
and the sun was beating down like a blast furnace.
“It’s just too
damn hot!” the old man exclaimed as he removed his big cowboy hat and
wiped his forehead with the arm of his shirt sleeve. “Come with
me, boy! Grab that pitcher of water, them two cups and bring ‘em
with you.” Potter ordered. Shane followed him to the big
house but stopped by the back door.
“What’sa matter,
boy? Come on in.”
“I’m too dirty,
Master. A slave shouldn’t enter a master’s house like this.
It’s just downright disrespectful, Sir.”
“You’re right,
it is, but unusual circumstances call for unusual solutions. Look
at me, Son, I’m as dirty as you. Now, obey your master and git
chore’ beefy butt in this house.” he grinned good naturedly at Shane.
“Yes, Sir.”
Shane came up the steps carrying the pitcher and cups and sat them on a
table on the porch. They went into the kitchen and on the table
was a huge picnic basket and a big handmade quilt thrown over the back
of one of the chairs.
“You think them
horses are ready for riding?”
“Yes, Sir.
They still got enough of Jack and Jill’s magic feel good gas in ‘em
they won’t mind. I just won’t bridle the one I removed the
tooth. He don’t need no reins, he’ll go where I tell him.”
“Any other man,
I’d question, but not you, slave. I have no doubt he will.
Go back down there and saddle them two. Come back and get me when
you’re done.”
It didn’t take
Shane but a half hour when he returned to the backdoor of the house and
knocked. The old man came to the porch and almost fell over to
see the horses standing behind Shane fully saddled. The toothless
one had no reins and the others reins were hanging to the
ground. They weren’t going anywhere. Potter smiled.
“Come in, boy! Come in.” he barked. Shane entered the
kitchen with his hat in his hand.
“Put chore’ hat
back on, cowboy, grab that basket and that blanket. I got the
rest in this here tote bag. Let’s vamoose.” he winked at Shane.
The men rode
out, down through the pasture behind the big barn and up a steep
hill to crest the summit and look down into a beautiful valley meadow
filled with wild flowers. In the distance Shane could see running
water and some large willow trees shading a large portion of the bank
of a creek. Surrounding the area were huge oak trees that
grew to enormous size because of the year round abundant supply of
water. Somehow Shane knew that was where the old man was
headed. They rode into the shaded grove of oaks, and it was ten
degrees cooler. Both men and horses were sweating
profusely. Potter got down from his horse and Shane
followed. They walked the rest of the way to the bank of the
stream where there was a natural area just right for a picnic.
They let the ponies run free to get a drink of the clear, cool,
refreshing water.
“Should we
tether them?” Potter asked.
“Naw, Sir,
they’ll come when I call. They’re grateful for their new shoes
and the older one is glad to be relieved of his bad tooth... we be
buddies now.”
“Ain't no doubt
in my mind, Son. I keep
forgetting you can speak with them. How long have you had the
ability?”
“Since my
nephew, Master Waco, gimme’ some of his slave’s special milk to
drink. Him and his slave brothers taught me.”
“Slave
brothers? Now why does that sound correct to me in context with
Waco Goodnight?” he asked rhetorically. “I guess it’s sort of
like Jack and Jill being your brother and sister, right?”
“Yes, Sir.
That’s about right.” Shane grinned.
Shane was amazed
the water was so clear and pure you could see all the way to the
bottom. It looked like an old stone quarry. He could see
huge fish swimming around and a few bottom feeders now and then.
“Gimme' a hand,
Son.” Potter asked gently.
“Yes, Sir.
Sorry, Master, I was so taken with the beauty of the place.”
“It’s one of my
favorite places. I come here by myself sometimes to get away from
life. Sometimes I fish. Don’t catch much. I think
them fish is too damn smart. They can see what you’re up to.” he
laughed. “Here, spread this old quilt on the grass.” he
ordered. Shane did as he asked, and the old man sat the picnic
basked down. He took off his big hat and sailed it onto the
water. It floated lazily on top. Next he took off his
sweaty shirt and threw it into the pool as well. He sat down and
began to pull off his boots. Shane rushed to him, pulled them
off for him and set them aside. Shane pulled his socks off and
the old man made a
motion for Shane to throw them into the water. He did as
instructed. Potter wasted no time shucking off his Wranglers,
removed his belt, pocket watch, wallet and tossed his pants into the
pool. The old man stood naked before Shane. Shane was
impressed. The old judge didn’t look so old without his
clothes. In fact, he had a body almost identical to Cole Jenkins’
but not quite so large. He looked fit and strong. There was
nothing sagging or flabby about this cowboy. His chest hair was
considerably grayer than Cole’s, but he was still a very handsome and
attractive man. Even his cock looked like Cole’s.
“Your turn,
slave.” Potter looked at Shane with a grin. Shane followed
his lead exactly. He tossed his hat into the pool, next his
shirt, removed his boots, tossed his socks in and finally his
Wranglers. Both men stood by the pool naked as the day they were
born. Potter did a double take at Shane’s body. He stood
there staring at the young man in awe. For a moment he was
speechless. He started to say something, stopped and just shook
his head.
“I know you’re a
big man. It ain’t difficult to see even with your clothes on, but
I had no idea you were... my God, boy, you look like something out of
one a’ them books on Greek statues of Spartan warriors.”
Potter grinned
from ear to ear, turned and jumped into the water. Shane was
right
behind him. They swam, rinsed the dust from their hats and
clothes, and laid them out on some bushes to dry in the in the
scorching, early afternoon, West Texas sun. They swam a little,
had a brief water fight, and played touchy-feely grab ass games with
each other. Shane let himself relax with the old man and enjoyed
himself. He found himself being seduced by Judge Potter; not
sexually per se, but psychologically. More simply put, the old
man was winning him over. Potter got out of the water, walked to
his tote bag, unzipped it and got out two enormous bath sheets and
handed one to Shane. The men dried themselves and pulled on their
boots so they wouldn’t get bullhead stickers in their feet.
Besides, a cowboy without his boots on is just plumb naked.
Potter invited
Shane to join him on the quilt. They set in the cool of the shade
naked as the day they were born except for their boots, of
course. Potter didn’t bother to wrap himself with his towel and
neither did Shane. The judge opened the basket and began to get stuff
out. He pulled out a big plastic tub of fried chicken and various
plastic containers with mashed potatoes, gravy, green beans, salad with
two kinds of dressing, milk and sun tea with lemon and sugar.
“My housekeeper
made this up before she left this morning and packed the basket.
It was mighty nice of her, but I paid her handsomely and gave her a big
tip. Help yourself, boy! Eat up. We’re through for
the day. I just want to spend the rest of the afternoon getting
to know you better and enjoying your company. If you’re as good
company
this afternoon as you were this morning, it will be a fine day to
remember. That’s what life is all about, Son, making as many fine
days to remember as you can cram into a lifetime.”
“I agree, Master
Potter, but don’t a lot depends on the length of your lifetime?”
“True, but I
don’t think about that. I know I got so few of them days left I
better make hay while the sun shines. Them religious folks talk
about the great beyond, how wonderful it will be and some talk about
coming back here. Funny, I can’t wrap my mind around either
one. I shore’ as hell don’t wanna’ come back here. I seen
too much in this world I don’t like. It’s a beautiful world, but
mankind has made it a living hell, and it only seems to be getting
worse instead of better. Maybe there’s something to all that
Armageddon crap them bible thump’n fools preach about, but I doubt
it. It’s real difficult for me to believe the hallucinogenic
ravings of some crazy old hermit who lived his life in a cave on the
Greek island of Patmos. God may move in mysterious ways, but rest
assured some idiot will find a way to fuck it up.” Potter
laughed. Shane grinned and nodded his agreement.
Shane piled his
plastic plate full. The food was excellent and so was the
company. He was having a good time and was more relaxed than he
had been in a long time.
“May I make a
suggestion, Master?”
“We’re speaking
freely with each other, ain’t we?”
“Yes, Sir.
Just mind’n my manners, Sir.”
“Noted and
appreciated. Now what’s your suggestion, Son?”
“Consider
joining the Grange.”
“I
been to a number of Grange functions and always enjoyed 'em. I’ve
considered
it, but I ain’t never been invited, Son.”
“That’s because
you’re of a high political appointment, and folks don’t trust
government
much these days.”
“I know, and
they have every right not to trust it. Maybe it’s best I don’t
join because it would place me between a rock and a hard place.
It might be considered a conflict of interest. I walk a
tightrope. I have to kowtow to the current government demands
while trying to appease my community. I have to do some things
and make some decisions I don’t want to but the law requires me to
do it. However, today is sort of a landmark day for me. I
was going to take today to make up my mind about retirement. As a
matter of fact, you’re hearing next Friday is the last official
decision I have to make if I decide to retire. I can live with
that.”
“Then, when you
retire, might you consider joining the Grange, Sir?” Shane took another
huge bite out of a chicken leg.
“Yes, if I’m
invited I most certainly would consider it. Can you tell me what
the Grange might have to offer me, but more importantly, what could I
possibly have to offer them? The Grange is made up of the most
common of folk. By that, I mean they are the common denominators,
the very salt of the Earth, the basic essence of what humanity should
be about; like what you went out of your way to do for them animals
this morning. You saw they were suffering and no matter what you
had to reveal about yourself or your two secret friends, you couldn’t
stand by and do nothing. I know damn well you didn’t do it for
me. I should think you would only have hate and loathing in your
heart for a man who sentenced you to fifteen years of slavery.
Why would you go out of your way to do anything for me?”
Shane didn’t
answer right away. He didn’t react or even look up from his
plate. Potter watched him closely. He’d seen the same
cowboy stoicism in many cowboy slaves, but it was different in the
young man sitting before him. He knew Shane would answer his
question, but he was taking his damn good time to formulate just the
right words for the most proper response. He didn’t want to
overstep his bounds this late in his slavery.
“Speaking
freely, and with all due respect for you and your position, Sir, what I
done I would do for any creature in distress, but you’re right, any
creature who can’t verbalize his discomfort whom I can communicate
with, I will go out of my way to provide some comfort. I don’t
think of you as the man who sentenced me to fifteen years of
slavery. I think of you as another one of God’s creatures in
distress. It’s my duty, not as a slave or even as a freeman if I
was one, to reach out to you if I can. To answer your other
question, you are a man of learning with the better angels of your
nature in conflict with a system that might be best described as
hopelessly flawed and corrupt. Boiled down to its essence, you
know right from wrong, but are distressed by what you see as your
increasing lack of patience and fortitude to swim upstream against the
ever increasing flow of sewage that comes your way. The Grange is
my family. They are my refuge against the insanity of this
world. Me and my family have a need for men like you; men of
sound reasoning. Without giving away too much of a secret nature,
I can only assure you what my family, the Grange, has to offer you is
beyond your wildest imaginings. I would love to tell you more,
but since my hearing is next week, it might be politically incorrect
and
ethically imprudent of me to share more with you.”
The old man
listened to Shane’s words in awe. He was stunned this young man
could come up with an answer to his questions that was so straight
forward and well reasoned. He took Potter’s slow pitch and
knocked it out of the ballpark. Potter set there for a moment in
silence watching Shane shovel food into his handsome maw. Shane
almost gorged himself the food was so good, but he also worked hard
that morning and built up an apatite. Potter seemed to take great
satisfaction watching the young man pack it away. They finished
their meal, put away the leftovers and bagged the throwaway dishes and
utensils. Potter sat the basket aside and leaned back against the
huge oak tree they were sitting under. He noticed Shane
kept looking at him and seemed to have no shame looking at Potter’s
private parts. If Potter caught his eye, Shane would look up and
smile. Potter thought it was about as natural a compliment as one
man might give another. Shane seemed totally comfortable being
naked before him and seemed to enjoy Potter admiring his
physique. From time to time he would reach down and rearrange his
penis and balls to be more comfortable from the heat. Potter
reached into his bag and withdrew a small silver flask. He took
the top off and took a long pull. He offered it to Shane.
“I ain’t never
tasted liquor since I been a slave, Master. I better not.”
“Take a small
pull, slave. That’s an order. It’s Southern Comfort.
It’s medicinal. I want you relaxed. One pull will do.”
Shane took a
small sip and grimaced as the fiery liquid burned a trail down his
throat. He sputtered and coughed. Shane was lying
outstretched at Potter’s feet, looking up at him sitting against the
tree. He wanted to reach out and touch the old man in the worst
way. He kept looking at his penis and wondering how it might
taste. Potter didn’t miss Shane’s attention and rearranged his
cock and balls as he had seen Shane do several times.
“Your answer to
my question surprised and astounded me. I don’t know why I should
be surprised after watching you in action this morning. I showed
you what I wanted done, you took charge and with very limited
instructions from me got everything done I wanted. If that
weren’t enough, you took expert care of my animals. I guess I’ve
become so jaded with the morons I deal with every day, I never expected
anything quite so eloquent, coherent or accurate from a cowboy
slave. I should know better, I know some very astute and wise
cowboys, but as I grow older I’m losing my sharpness of focus.
If I had you as
an attorney in my court, my days would still be filled with a modicum
of satisfaction. To hear one lawyer today present anything so
complicated or nuanced as what you just said would send me home at the
end of the day with a
song in my heart. Unfortunately, most are certifiably bat-shit
crazy. I appreciate your candor and the respectful way you
presented your argument for joining the Grange. You just helped
decide my own case for retirement. You’re the only one who will
know this, but I plan to announce my retirement in court the afternoon
of your hearing.
I haven’t
retired before now because, in some small way, I’m the last bastion or
fire wall, if you will, of protection against the insanity of our
stacked jurisprudence system in this community. There are small
things I can do to creatively navigate or circumnavigate the
system. I wouldn’t retire if I didn’t have the option of
appointing my own successor, but fortunately I do have that option and
plan to
appoint a younger man who has been my protegee for many years. I
know he’s a man whom I can trust to carry on in the same manner.
He has his own ideas, but I know he will be as fair as the system
allows. It’s a good thing you weren’t being sentenced in today’s
courts by today’s standards. Instead of fifteen years you would
be looking at a mandatory sentence of slavery for life, and I would
have no choice but to send you to a Cheney corporate work camp.
As for your
upcoming case, I’ve already made up my mind about that as well, but I
need more input from you. If you ain’t guessed by now, that’s the
real reason why I wanted to borrow you from your master today.
Your master and brother, Angus Goodnight, and his brother, Charlie
Goodnight, are two of the finest men I ever had the honor to know and
call my friends, but Angus is in turmoil. It’s part of the
Goodnight curse of hard heads.” Potter laughed, then
continued, “He doesn’t want to give you up as a slave, not
because he needs another slave, but because he’s come to love you so
deeply it will be like gnawing off his own arm to let you go. I
can see it in his eyes ever’ damn time your name is mentioned, but it
ain’t your brother’s decision. It’s mine. Oh, he could
come to me with some trumped up charges and accusation against you to
try to get your indenturement changed to slavery for life. It’s
done all the time. It’s common practice now days, but that’s not
what Angus is about. It ain’t what I’m about neither, and he
knows it. I need to know what you’re thinking, your hopes and
your dreams. That’s why I wanted you to have a little nip of the
old elixir of truth. I wanted to loosen you up to relax and tell
me the secrets of your heart. What’s going through your mind
right this minute? What does your heart want most?”
Shane didn’t
answer for a moment, but just continued to stare at Judge Potter’s
handsome penis. It looked so good to him he swore he could almost
taste it in his mouth. Finally he spoke.
“Dessert.” he
replied without taking his eyes off Potter’s cock.
“What? Did
you say ‘dessert’?” laughed Potter.
“Yes, Sir.
Why was there no dessert with such a wonderful lunch?”
Potter roared
with laughter. “What on Earth would make you think of dessert at a time
like this, Son?”
“Your handsome
penis, Sir. I been lying here listening to you, thinking how
wonderful it might be to suck you off. My master trained me to
always offer my services to a master whether he chooses to accept or
not. We became so involved with work and conversation I forgot my
place and manners. May I please pleasure you by sucking you off,
Master. It would be a privilege for me to service you. You
asked me what I most wanted right at this moment, and what I most want
is dessert. I want to suck my dessert out of you. You’re in
distress, and as a slave, I have comfort to offer you. It would
bring your humble slave great joy to ride home in my master’s truck
with your fresh come on my breath.” Potter smiled to watch Shane’s big
cock
grow to full salute.
“Would you
believe I ain’t never had a slave suck me off?”
“Yes, Sir.
I absolutely would believe you. Please, Master Potter, let me be
your first. It would be a great honor, Sir.” Shane’s dick grew
even harder.
“I wondered why
you were looking at my old cayuse.” Potter’s penis began its own rise
to attention.
“Now you know,
Master. My secret is out.” Shane smiled.
“Do you think it
might be a conflict of interest, slave?”
“Naw, Sir.
How could it be a conflict of interest? I’m interested in getting
me some sweet dessert, and you’re interested in feeding me. Do
you think Jesus asked his disciples that question at the last supper?”
Shane grinned real big. Potter laughed out loud.
“Good point,
slave! Fine precedent. Well argued. It’s been so
long. I don’t know if I can give you what you need, Son.
I’m afraid my dessert making machine is well past its prime.” he
chuckled.
“Let your slave
worry about that, Master. If I don’t please you, you must tell my
master so he can punish me, or better yet, I insist you bend me over
your knee and take your belt to me yourself.”
“Good Lord, I
wouldn’t want that on my conscience. Neither would I want to deny
you dessert. All right. Go ahead, chow down. Suck
hard, slave. Let’s see if you can get some dessert out of
me. I’m sure I’ll be pleasantly surprised if you do.” the judge
laughed.
Shane didn’t
wait for Potter to change his mind. He started licking and
making love to the old man’s balls. After ten years of sucking
his brother and ramrod, Shane was more than a little confident he could
please the old cowboy. He chased Potter’s balls around in their
sacks, sucked, licked and cleaned every inch of his masculine, sweaty
balls. Then he started licking, kissing and making love to
Potter’s penis. For an older cowboy he didn’t seem to have much
problem maintaining a strong erection. After Shane made love to
every inch of Potter’s cock and balls a few times he stopped for a
moment.
“Since you have
never had a slave suck you off before, Master, I can’t take you until
you give me permission.”
“You have my
permission to take me, slave.” Potter replied.
Shane
immediately deep throated the old man’s cock. Potter gasped for
air. He came up and away from leaning against the trunk of the
big oak tree.
“Oh, my
God! I never expected it to feel that good! Christ almighty
that feels wonderful.” he gently grabbed Shane’s head and began to rub
and massage it lovingly like he was trying to transmit to his slave his
feeling through his hands. Shane knew how to polish a cowboy’s
saddle horn. He knew how to bring him to the brink of being
bucked off and easing off for a more gentle ride. He worked
Potter like the expert cocksucker he was and knew he had him almost to
the point of climax several times.
“Holy shit,
Son! I was wrong. My dessert maker is still in working
order. I got me a big batch of cowboy cream in there for
you. Don’t try to make no more, slave, I’m begging you.” Potter
begged Shane and rubbed his head lovingly. Shane knew it was time
to take his dessert. He started fucking his own face with the old
cowboy’s sweet cock, ramming it deeply down his throat time after
time. He was relentless until he felt Potter gasping for breath,
arching his back and began exploding into his throat. Shane
swallowed once, twice and fucked his face even harder on Potter’s penis
until he got the last volley of the sweet cowboy cream the old man had
to offer. Shane whipped up a good batch. Potter’s come
was a little on the tart side but finished a very toothsome
delight. It satisfied Shane’s sweet tooth just fine. He
continued to suck and clean the very last bits of come from Potter’s
dick. He ran his tongue beneath Potter’s ample foreskin covering
the big head of his cock and got the last of the bits and flavors from
there. Potter was squirming like a worm in hot ashes. His
cock-head was very sensitive after coming. Still holding Shane’s
head in his hands he pulled him up to him and threw his arms around his
neck.
“That was fuck’n
wonderful, Son. I don’t know if it’s good manners to thank your
slave for his attentions or if a pat on the butt and a compliment will
suffice.”
“Either will do,
Sir. Dessert is the prize.” Shane laughed. Shane lay in
Potter’s arms with his head against the old man’s chest. He
rolled over on his back and leaned against Potter. The old man
draped his arms around Shane’s front and began playing with the young
man’s well defined tits.
“You were
right.” he said quietly. “I was in distress and you comforted
me. I hope it was enough dessert for you.”
“It was very
satisfying, Master, and it was quite sweet. It hit the spot...a
couple of times.” Shane added and chuckled. Potter laughed.
“This is the
time to lay our cards on the table, Son. We’re lying here,
relaxed with nothing between us. We’ve shared work, food and
sex. I need to know where you heart is about your upcoming
hearing. Have you spoken with anyone about it?”
“Yes, Sir.
My brother, Master Charlie, my nephew, Master Waco, Master Charlie’s
ramrod, Master Lazarus Long, and the man I mentioned earlier who I
secretly think on as my dad, Cole Jenkins.”
“What did they
tell you?”
“They all told
me to accept probation if it’s offered, but for different
reasons. Master Lazarus has need of me to take some of his
responsibilities off his shoulders. He and Master Charlie got so
many damn irons in the fire, I couldn’t even begin to tell you about
ever’ thing. I been working with and for Master Lazarus quite a
bit. Master Charlie, he wants me to accept probation because he
thinks it’s the right thing for me to do. He didn’t go behind his
big brother’s back. He told Master Angus exactly what he was
gonna’ tell me. Master Waco,...well,.... Master Waco loves me
like an older brother. He just don’t want his brother being a
slave no
more, but there’s more details to these men’s opinions than I can share
with you right now. After your retirement I can share everything
with you, and I make you a promise, I will. I know that probably
ain’t too helpful, but the reason Cole Jenkins gimme’ was probably the
most important. He insists I need five years probation as a
freeman to get my head turned around to think’n like a freeman again
and not like a slave. If I opt for five more years as a slave, he
thinks I’ll spend another five years after that learning to think and
act like a freeman. I think he fears if I don’t accept freedom
and probation, I might never. Cole made a lot of sense to
me. The question remains, how can I say ‘no’ to my beloved
brother Angus?”
“You never cease
to amaze me, Son. You’ve impressed me since you got here this
morning and you continue to amaze me; not in a bravado way, but in a
deeply abiding sense of humility and self-worth few men ever
develop.
You’ve had a lot of input about this, but you’re pulled back and
forth. You know all the ins and outs, the whys and why nots about
the situation. The question is, what do you want?”
“I just don’t
know, Master Potter. I know if I accept being a freeman, the law
says I can’t service my brother or his ramrod no more. You talk
about gnawing your own arm off; after ten years of service how am I
gonna’ give that up over night?”
“You might ask
Hoot Austin and Cotton Daniels.” Potter pinched Shane’s tit between his
thumb and forefinger.
“Ouch!”
exclaimed Shane. Then he laughed. “I get your point, Sir,
but it ain’t me what will be the hard head about it. Master Bill
has his reputation to protect as one of the finest slave trainers in
the business and Master Angus is... well, Master Angus is Master
Angus. You know him.”
“Yes, I surely
do. You leave Angus Goodnight to me. I’m one of the few men
who can get through to him. I know his weak spots. I get
the feeling you’d like to accept probation, but rather than ‘cause a
lot of heartache you’ll just request to remain a slave for five more
years.”
“Yes, Sir.
That’s the quandary I’m in.”
“Do you need
someone to tell you what to do? Are you incapable of making a big
decision like that?”
“I think so,
Master Potter, or I would have already done made up my mind.”
“Not
necessarily. Sometimes decisions like that come to you like a
bolt out of the blue. Let me tell you a story about your
surrogate dad, Cole Jenkins. Can you keep it to yourself?”
“You know I can,
Master Potter.”
“You’re right, I
do. During the monetary collapse which began in 2008 and contined
for damn near ten years, there were men all
across our county out of work, and like it was during the great
depression of the early twentieth century, a law was passed that
declared all vagrants caught stealing or looting would be made slaves
depending on
what they stole and how much. Cole was a hard working farrier,
but when the economy collapsed nobody had money to pay to get their
horses shoed. Cole had a family to feed, a wife and two kids; a
boy and a girl. They lost everything they had including their
home. They were living in one of many cardboard communities under
a freeway overpass. Cole was caught
breaking into one of the big mega-food chains with several other men
one night to steal food for their families. He got exactly the
same sentence you did, fifteen years with probation after ten if he
behaved himself. Angus bought him to have someone to take care of
his and his brother’s horses. Six months after Angus bought him,
Cole Jenkin's wife died of pneumonia from malnutrition. It was
common
during those days. Several million people starved to
death, but the Bush/Cheney theocracy only believed in welfare for big
corporations and the very rich. They all but wiped out the middle
class, and they thought the poor didn’t deserve to live.
Since Cole had
no other family, his kids were sent to privately owned state homes, but
the state
kept tabs and charged the kids for their room, board and education so
when they became eighteen they were sold into indenturement to pay the
state and private corporations back for their care. Cole’s son,
Danny, was sold to the
military for an eight year hitch, was sent to the middle East and was
killed the first six months he was over there. His daughter was
sold to a no good man who made her into a whore. She got AIDS and
died of liver failure at the age of nineteen. Cole ultimately
faced the same decision you face. He kept his nose clean and
worked hard for Angus and Charlie, but when his ten years was up he
decided to stay a slave for another five years. At the end of
that time, he came to court with Angus and Charlie standing up for
him. They tried to do the right thing by him. They were
going to do the same for him Charlie did for Blake Tindell, but I could
see the light had gone out of Cole Jenkins’ eyes. He was so
broken in spirit he begged Angus in court to accept him as his slave
for life. Everyone tried to plead with him to change his
mind. I spoke with him privately and tried to get him to
reconsider, but his mind was made up. It didn’t cost Angus
nothing but a small charge for the paperwork, and he got himself a
slave
for life. Cole’s been over here to help me a couple of times, and
I’ve asked him if he regreted his decision. He swears to me he
still thinks he made the right choice, but I wonder. As fellow
cowboy slaves have you and Cole ever shared a bunk?” Potter blatantly
asked.
“Naw, Sir.
Not because I didn’t want to, but because of him. God knows I
done offered my services to the man enough. I would move heaven
and Earth for just one taste of that cowboy’s fine piece of meat.
I would think I done died and gone to heaven if he treated me with his
sweet cowboy cream. I know he don’t do nothing with nobody; not
even Master Angus or Master Birdsall. I don’t know why. I
never asked, but I know they pretty much leave him be.”
“They have a
gentleman’s agreement. It weren’t always that way, but you don’t
need to know all the details. Some things are best left
private. If he wants to tell you someday, it should be up to
him. I’ll give you a bit of advice. Don’t give up on Cole
Jenkins. He’s a good man and one you want in your corner.
When the world comes down around you, Cole Jenkins will be there for
you. My personal opinion is of all the advice you received, his
is
the best. Does Angus or Bill Birdsall know of your affection and
relationship with Cole?”
“Naw, Sir,
Master Potter. They know I work with him a lot. They know
we work well together. If they got a job they really, really want
done right the first time they give it to me and Cole. They know
I apprenticed as a farrier under him. Ole Cole and me, we don’t
do us a lot of jawing with each other or about one another.
Both my masters asked me if I ever serviced Cole. I didn’t
elaborate, but I told them the truth, I never have. They ain’t
got no idea how I feel about him. I learned years ago you don’t
talk to your masters about other cowboy slaves if you wanna’ live a
happy life. It just ain’t done. There’s an unspoken
code. I
don’t really know all that much about Cole to talk about him
none. All I know is there’s something real and wonderful that
flows between us when we’s together that don’t need no words. I
told him last week I love him. It was jes' some'um I had to
do. He told me he loves me, too.
I’ve know’d it all along, but for some reason, it just seemed important
for me to tell him last week. It was equally important for me to
hear it from him. I would do anything for that man. If I
could bring him the same comfort I brought you, I would do so daily.”
“Just so’s you
ain’t surprised, I want you to know I’m going to offer you manumission
with five years probation. You have to figure out what you want
by next week. Talk with Cole some more. Talk with your
family. If you need to talk with me all you have to do is tell
your master I have another couple of chores for you to do, and I’ll
back you up. Let me know so I’ll be sure to be here.”
“Thank you,
Master Potter. Thanks for everything, but especially for my
dessert. That was downright special. Your dessert maker
works just
fine, Sir. I’m sure if you allowed me to service it a few more
times, I could fine tune it for you and git it working like new again.”
they shared a laugh.
It was getting
late in the afternoon. Shane retrieved their dry clothes and the
men dressed. The horses were grazing in the meadow not far from
the grove of trees. Shane whistled for them. They perked
their ears and slowly started to mosey back toward the men. This
time there was no limp in their stride. They slowly rode back to
the barn and Shane put the horses away. He rubbed them down and
curried them. They loved that. They couldn’t thank him
enough. It took him some time because they hadn’t been
tended to in a while. Judge Potter walked back to the house and
called Angus. Shane was still working on the horses when the old
judge and Angus walked into the barn.
“Look at you!”
Angus bellowed, “You didn’t do a lick a’ work! You’re as clean as
when I brought you over here this morning.” then he and the Judge
laughed. “Did you have a good day, slave?”
“A very good
day, Master. One of the best days of my life.”
Potter saw them
out to the truck. Shane fell to his knees in the dust and kissed
each of Judge Potter’s cowboy boots. This time the old man went
through the slave ritual with him and gave him a good kiss and a big
hug.
“You done good
work today, slave. I hope one day soon to call you my
friend.” It was Judge Potter’s own, not so secret, endorsement of
what Cole Jenkins told Shane. Angus didn’t miss the exchange and
turned away. The two men drove back to the Goodnight ranch in
silence. Shane could feel his bother’s angst, but he felt a new
strength rising within him. It suddenly came to him like the old
Judge said it might. He remembered the ride home when Angus
bought him for a slave. Angus was brutal. Shane understood,
but he spent every day for ten years of his life making up for his
mistake. He didn’t care to be brutal with his brother. He
had no thoughts of revenge. He loved Angus far too much for that,
but he knew he would be firm in his resolve. The rest of the
pieces would come together. If not, then like he learned to be a
slave, he had to adjust. Nothing would remain the same, but that
didn’t mean things wouldn’t get better. After he finally
submitted to the idea of being a slave, things got a lot better for
him. For ten years someone else had made all the choices and
decisions for his life. Shane Goodnight decided to take back
control of his life. He would make up his own mind. He knew
at that moment he would accept the old judge’s advice and become a
freeman again.
“Did you offer
yourself to my friend, slave?”
“Pull the truck
over, Master, and you can still smell his come on my breath.” Shane
challenged Angus without emotion. Angus couldn’t quite figure out
whether Shane was being smart with him or not. Suddenly, he burst
into laughter.
“I guess I
deserved that, didn’t I?” he grinned at Shane.
“Only if you say
so, Master.” Angus laughed again, but Shane only grinned.
* * * * *
* *
The days past
and most folks were happy Shane’s hearing was immanent. It was
the talk of the Grange. Everyone knew he had a spotless record
and would be granted his freedom. He was getting congratulations,
encouragement, and pats on the back from all quarters except from those
he most needed to hear it. Blake Tindell spent an afternoon with
Shane telling him about his experiences adjusting to being a
freeman. He didn’t sugar coat his feelings, but he presented how
he
thought the good might outweigh the bad. He admitted there were
times he wondered whether he made the right decision, but in the long
run there was always something good that would happen, or an
encouraging word from someone who would reassure him he made the right
choice. Blake admitted he missed the things Shane feared he would
miss most, but he also assured him those who loved him and wanted to
see he made it would see he found comfort. Blake didn't elaborate
but Shane already knew several of the Grange men were fucking Blake
regularly and letting him suck them off when he needed it. It was
just an unspoken understanding among men who owned slaves. An
ex-slave needed a period to be weened away from slavery slowly.
It didn't just happen overnight.
Within reason,
Angus gave Shane a great deal of personal freedom to come and go as he
pleased the last couple of months. He was always good to check
with Angus first to gain his permission and always checked in with him
regularly to give him an update as to where he was and with
whom. Angus allowed Shane to go with his brother, Charlie,
his nephew, Waco and his cowboy brothers to Mars and Venus without Bill
Birdsall. Birdsall already started to withdraw from Shane a
couple of months before and things were awkward between them.
Shane didn't know how to react or what he'd done to be ignored and
shunned like a pariah. During the trip to Mars and Venus Shane
spent a lot of time
with Charlie, Lazarus, Waco and his brothers. He was one of the
stars of the whale rescue operation and was a minor diety on Venus and
Mars. He was known and admired by everyone. Wherever he
went people and critters referred to him as Captain Shane.
Charlie understood what Shane was going through and promised he
would have enough support from those who loved and cared about him he
would survive the loss of intimacy with Bill Birdsall and Angus.
Lazarus got Shane off-world for an evening. They stayed a night
in the lodge on Mars and had dinner on the balcony of the ‘Jungle
Room.’ It was just him and the Admiral.
“Shane, the
fears you’re having about accepting your freedom are normal.
Remember the first time you and I met? You were the first to see
through me, and you knew who I was before anyone else. You kept
my secret. You were a great comfort to me then, and you have
continued to be. You already are a Captain of your own spaceship,
and I want you to have more time to grow and mature in that
position. I’ll be blunt. We need you, Son. I need
you. I see great things for you, but some sacrifices have to be
made. One is leaving the comfortable womb of slavery. It
ain’t gonna’ be easy. I know, I been there. You have to
become reborn to freedom, Son. Furthermore, I will either
backup or make sure you don't fail financially in any Earth based
enterprise you choose to undertake. If you decide to accept your
freedom I will buy you anything your heart desires. I will make
you a present of it for becoming born again.” Lazarus stressed the
last and rolled his eyes at the sound of it. They shared a laugh.
“Thank’s,
Admiral, but my ship has become the apple of my eye. Ms.
Maybelle and me, we get along jes’ fine. She runs a tight ship
for me. The Bluebonnet wouldn’t be the same without her.”
Shane grew more
weary as the week progressed and began to be haunted by thoughts of
self-doubt and insecurity. As the week drew to a close, Angus and
Bill Birdsall became more distant with Shane. They still treated
him like a slave, but it was like they knew he was a ‘short timer’ and
consciously or unconsciously started to withdraw from him. Shane
understood it couldn’t be easy for Master Bill either. There was
a better than good possibility he would be losing his cowboy slave
boy-toy he molded and shaped to be his personal male concubine for ten
years. Birdsall took his relationship with Shane for
granted. He had grown lazy and complacent. He never wanted
to admit to himself, one day Shane might be set free. He was
secretly betting Angus would never allow it. Now, he wasn’t so
sure. Reality was staring him in the face, but he didn’t know how
to handle it. Panic set in. If anything, he was in worse
shape than Shane. He actively did guilt trips on the young man
which he hated himself for later, but nevertheless the damage was
done. It drove a deep, possibly irreparable wedge between him and
Shane. Bill talked privately with Angus and suggested several
questionable things Shane did in the past that might get him declared a
slave for life. Angus looked at his business partner and shook
his head in disbelief like he was sad, disgusted, and ashamed of Bill
for trying for an end run around the inevitable.
“Goddamn
it! I supported you all these years, Angus!” Birdsall shouted at
him out of frustration.
“Bill, he’s ma’
brother for cries sake!” Angus pleaded.
“That didn’t
stop you from making him your slave.”
“That’s unfair,
Bill, and you know it. I didn’t make Shane my slave. The
court made him a slave. All I did was pull some strings so's I
could buy him and take care of him. We’ve done that for ten
years, and I think we done a pretty damn good job. Now, we have
to let him go, Bill.” Angus shouted back, then added, “Don’t you think
this is just as hard for me? We never were in competition for his
services. You had him the majority of the time. I didn’t
care, but the truth is, you fell in love with him, and you don’t want
to let go of your comfortable little world.”
“You mean to
tell me you didn’t fall in love with him?”
“No, I ain’t
saying that. I’d be a damn liar if I was to say I didn’t fall in
love with him. We made him what we wanted him to be. That’s
what happens between a master and a slave, but it just so happens he’s
also my baby brother. No matter how much my old heart will break
to
watch him go out on his own, I won’t hold him back because of my
selfish needs and neither should you. I won’t let you,
Bill, is that clear?”
“Fuck you and
the horse you rode in on! I’m leaving. I’ve worked for you
long enough. If Shane goes, I’m going out on my own. I
expect you to buy out my half of the business. Since I’m leaving
before our contract expires I will expect less than the actual worth of
my shares. I’ll take a loss to get out of here.”
“Bill you don’t
mean it. That’s just plumb dumb. You’re talking
nonsense. We’re good for each other business-wise. You
complement me, and I do the same for you. We’re tighter than just
business partners. We know the secrets of each others
hearts. You and me, we’re family, Bill. You ain’t got no
other family. For God’s sake, man, don’t throw away ever’thing we
built for years together, just because you might be losing your
housekeeper and belly warmer. Couldn’t you have something on the
side with Shane? I don’t plan to cut myself off from him cold
turkey. Like any slave, he's gonna' have to be weened. We
can get off to Mars together for a weekend.
Little Bear and I sneak off once or twice a month together. So
can you. It’s even easier now since Trey Vinceeth had that big
gate installed. All I gotta’ do is pack an overnight bag, meet my
sweet-meat Indian slave boy on the ‘Snatch’ and we’re in heaven for an
evening or a weekend.”
“It won’t be the
same. It just won’t be the same.” Birdsall complained.
“Of course it
won’t be the same, but in some ways it might be better.”
“You just don’t
understand. Goddamn it, I love Shane!”
“Now that’s
complete and utter bullshit, Bill! I do understand! I
understand the thought of losing your toy is ripping your goddamn guts
out, and you ain’t think’n none too clearly; but, the pain in yore’ gut
ain’t love, Son. The truth? You wanna’ hear the real,
honest-to-goodness, God’s gospel truth of the matter? If you
really, truly loved Shane, you’d be proud of the job we done on
him. You’d be proud of him making it through ten years without so
much as a minor blot on his record. You’d give him a big old hug,
a goodly kiss, pat him on his butt for good luck, wish him well and
send him on his way. Instead you’re in here trying to undermine
the kid’s chances. That certainly ain’t the definition of love in
my dictionary. You’re like an old mother hen what’s still
scratching in the ground after all the feed’s done gone still hoping to
find one small seed to grow a case against him. Give it up, Son,
there ain’t none. Separating yourself or distancing yourself from
him ain’t doing nothing but punishing him for something he ain’t done,
and you’re only making yourself miserable at the same time. The
worst part is, I’m just as guilty as you are, but by God, I swear to
you and all what’s holy, I’m gonna’ fight against it. Look, just
simmer down and reconsider your options. Think on it, Bill.
Don’t go off half cocked and do something we both will regret later
on. I’ll buy you another young kid of your choosing. I’ll
make him a present to you, but this time we’ll get a lifer.
There’s plenty of young slave meat out there who would be lucky to have
us as masters.”
Birdsall settled
down. What Angus said made sense. It wouldn’t be the same,
but what the hell? If Angus would buy him a new toy to replace
his old one, why not? Two, three years, four at the max he could
have a replacement trained and buffed out just the way he did
Shane. He felt so damn embarrassed he tried to bluff his partner
whom he loved more than life itself. Angus Goodnight was a god to
Bill Birdsall. He knew he could never leave Angus, but there was
just something about Shane he knew he would never get over... something
that nagged at him deep in his gut...something he was sure he would
never have for himself.
End of Chapter
53 ~ Waco’s Lummox
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Waddie Greywolf
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