Date: Thu, 5 Nov 1998 11:16:35 -0500
From: Jamie Anderson <JamieAnderson@compuserve.com>
Subject: Ole George's Tale VI

This is the boring prefix.

This story is fiction and contains quite explicitly described sex
scenes between males. Should this offend you, may I take the
opportunity to question your sanity. This is after all the sixth
chapter and you are still punishing yourself.

For those poor souls who suffer from the horrors of Political
Correctness please stop right here. Proceeding beyond this point may
cause you to have an attack of apoplexy

For those of you who are under age and reading this, don't try any of
this at home. Well, not without parental guidance at least.

Comments and criticism are welcomed at the Email address mentioned.
Flames however will incur the "Curse of the Internet" which causes
your account name and password to be plastered across every hacker's
newsgroup on the web.

I am indebted to RH, who helped me on the last two parts, by healing
split infinitives and so many punctuation corrections that I had to go
out and buy a whole box of commas.

Of Pussy Cats, Policemen And Role-players.

The sound of a bell woke me. It would not stop ringing. Finally I
heard John hit the alarm clock. From there he proceeded to drain my
bladder, as I was too tired to put up any resistance.
I managed to get in the shower alone while he retrieved his toothbrush
and razor from the guest bathroom. However I must admit it is
difficult to shave while a fuckable young boy sucks on your cock. In
the end, tired or not, I had to fuck him. I have never had a fuck on a
cold tiled floor, but that's where he got what he was asking for.

Breakfast went smoothly and I packed both copies of the job output for
Digby in the car. I was still nervous about losing it. Tinker wanted
to sleep in. I envied him, but I drove John to school then went on to
meet Digby.

He was delighted to see me and over the moon about the work. I made my
excuses and left. I got home about 10:30, set the alarm and went back
to bed. One nice thing about being in the middle of nowhere, you can
sleep without interruption.

Well, not exactly. Another bell woke me, the telephone bell. I glanced
at the clock and discovered it had rung just minutes before the alarm
would have woken me anyway. I cancelled the alarm with my free hand.

On the phone was a very excited Digby. It seems that things could not
have gone better. The sun now shone out of his chubby little ass. His
predecessor was going to have his nuts in a vice for screwing things
up then running. And, last but not least, not only was I getting the
rest of the contract, I was being put forwards as a "preferred vendor"
to his American company's parent conglomerate. If this came through, I
would have it made. As it was the commission alone would make more
than I had made in the entire previous year. I was indeed a happy
camper.

The next week went quickly. I soon got into the routine of having a
lover. It was nice having sex on tap where and when I wanted it. On
Saturday Max phoned. He wanted to use the Dungeon, for a bit of
discipline, he said. However he had car problems and could I pick them
up.

So John and I drove up to Max's house, the door opened and Max came
out, in his full leather gear. A large American Negro sailor dressed
in his whites closely followed him. John gasped, as well he might.
They made strange couple, one white man all in black, and one black
man all in white. The American was introduced as Leroy. He came across
as a quiet, well-educated, Mild-mannered man. I should point out that
although I am dark skinned, Leroy was black. In fact next to him I
looked like a white guy.

We drove home in more or less silence and the pair of them went
downstairs. I would not let John go with them alone and I really did
not want to know what they were getting up to down there. John did a
bit of whining but I was quite firm.

Everything was nice and quiet, we were watching the TV, Tinker asleep
on my knee, not a care in the world. Then just before 9pm Tinker shot
off my knee and screamed at John. Instantly we moved to the Dungeon as
the chime sounded twice.

An interesting sight met our eyes. The frame had been moved off stage
centre and replaced by a rack. Spread-eagled, buck-naked on the rack
was Leroy, held there under tension by wrist and ankle cuffs. He was
covered in sweat, had a gag in his mouth and was sporting a raging
erection.

Despite our haste I was forced to stop and do a double take on that
erection. I have seen lots of cocks; big, small, fat, thin and ones
that curve but this was one that I had never seen before.

It was a large, coal black, circumcised cock, but it reminded me of a
cobra about to strike. It came straight up from his groin heading for
the roof then just before the head it made a right-angled turn so the
slit was pointing at his feet. As it turned downwards it sort of
flattened out and became very wide for the duration of the curve. Shit
if you could ever get that thing inside you it would be like being
fisted.

"We have a problem. The police are about to raid the place. John is
under-age and must not be found here. So he'll have to stay down here
with you. Harm one hair on his furry little body, Max, and you're a
dead man. Oh, and keep the noise down," I said hurriedly.

Leroy began to react the moment the word "police" passed my lips. He
struggled with his bonds, his eyes rolled and was trying to shout
through the gag. I believe that the American Navy does not approve of
its enlisted men being found in such circumstances by the police.
However he was not in any position to do anything to help or hinder
things.

"Oh, I'm sure he'll come in useful again," Max said, grinning evilly.
I growled at him.

I grabbed the toothbrush and razor and dashed upstairs, then got down
to the front door in time to meet my visitors. Tinker accompanied me.
There was no rain but there was the dull rumble of thunder in the
distance as the same trio got out of the cars and walked over.

"Ah, good evening gentlemen," I said, "And how is your head,
Inspector?"

There was now a plaster on the side of the Inspector's head.

"Healing nicely thank you, and if you would control that animal of
yours," he said pointing down at Tinker, "I would be grateful."

"Tinker!" I called, tapping my shoulder, he jumped up and snuggled
against my ear. The search of the house was completely fruitless and
the Inspector now decided to look over the outbuildings. We all went
out the door and across the yard. We almost made it when there was a
blinding flash of lightning and, a second later, a deafening peal of
thunder. The lights flickered and failed, plunging us into total
darkness, and I do mean total, you could not see your hand in front of
your face.

"Everyone stand still." I ordered, "The emergency generators will
start in less than thirty seconds."

The powers that be had brilliantly placed the substation for the area
on a hilltop. There it acted line a magnet for lightning bolts. These
in turn caused very messy power failures, which computers no not like
one little bit. So I had fitted a no-break supply and backup a diesel
generator.

In my mind's eye I could see the sequence of events taking place. The
motor-generator set had a flywheel between them. This would have
enough energy to keep the generator turning and provide power to the
critical circuits, the computer and a few lights, one being in the
Dungeon. Meanwhile the auto-start on the diesel backup would be
kicking in. Once the diesel was up to speed power would be restored to
everything.

Now either the Inspector did not like being given orders by a
civilian, or he was frightened of the dark. He began wandering around
and bumping into things. I told him again to stand still and was
rewarded by the clatter of something being knocked over. A second
later there was the scream of a man in pain. The lights began glowing
dimly and then brightened.

When I bought the place it was a working farm. It had all the tools
and equipment that a farm normally uses. There was even an old tractor
and some implements in one shed. The hand tools, I left where they
were, to give the place atmosphere. One of these tools was called a
"hay rake". This is a three-pronged rake. The prongs are bent at right
angles to the shaft like a regular rake but each is about nine inches
long and comes to wickedly sharp point.

It would appear that the Inspector had first knocked this over and
then trodden on it. He was now sitting on the ground with the middle
prong sticking out of the instep of his shoe. Judging by the other
prongs the middle one was at least an inch into his instep. His
screams tended to confirm this.

Moving quickly the Sergeant grabbed his ankle and held it steady, I
got a firm grip on the head of the rake and pulled it free. The
Inspector informed the world that this action was painful. The other
two helped him back towards the house while I ran on ahead to get the
First Aid Kit.

It was a rather messy wound that we found, after we got his shoe and
sock off. There was a lot of blood, which seemed to make the Inspector
go quite white. When I told him he would require a tetanus shot he
fainted. This allowed me to apply the iodine without causing him
further pain.

"Er, I wish you hadn't mentioned that, Sir. The very thought of a
needle does that to him. He passed out when they stitched up his head
last time." said the Sergeant holding the foot steady while I got the
bandage on.

"He isn't related to Inspector Clouseau of the Pink Panther fame, is
he?" I inquired.

The Sergeant chuckled and said very quietly, "Oh I must tell the lads
down the station that one."

Once more we got the Inspector into the car and with the Constable
behind the wheel they set off to the hospital.

The Sergeant took off his cap and wiped his brow. He looked at me
seriously for a moment before coming to a decision.

"You know he is not a local man, Sir. And he is overstepping the mark
here. I shouldn't really tell you this, Sir, but if you were to
complain he would have to stop harassing you." he said

"Oh, come along Sergeant. He just thinks he is doing his job. Besides
you know the saying, `Give a man enough rope and he'll hang himself'."
I said.

"I expect you're right Sir, thank you once more for your
co-operation." he said as he got into the car and departed. For some
reason I knew that the sergeant could see through me like I was made
of glass. Which is why I waited until the chime sounded the second
time before I went back down into the Dungeon.

The scene had changed little, Leroy still lay glistening with sweat
immobilised on the rack, the only real difference was John, who was
squatting on the rack doing an admirable job of getting his mouth
round that impossible cock.

When I came into view the poor man took one look at me and began
screaming into his gag. Clearly Max had him near the edge of his
sanity. John looked at me and went white and Max said, "Where did all
the blood come from?"

I suddenly realised that I should really have cleaned up before I came
down. So as I began to wash it off I told them what had happened.

"What bad luck." said Max.

John gave a knowing snigger.

I rejoined Max by the rack. "What are you doing to this poor guy?" I
asked.

"He had a problem about cuming too fast and we are teaching him to
hold it back. He's doing not bad, considering your lad has had his
mouth round that meat bone for the last thirty minutes or so." said
Max with a grin, "Well, we are almost ready to pack it in for the
night.

Then turning to his victim he asked, "You wanna cum?"

Leroy nodded vigorously.
Turning to John he asked, "Reckon you can take him?"

John bounced off the rack and began stripping. Max obligingly slapped
some Crisco on the rigid black pole that stuck up from the Negro's
groin. Then he bent John over and greased him up too.

John straddled Leroy's groin and guided his shaft between his buns and
slowly lowered himself until his ring was touching the top of the bend
in the cock. He nodded to Leroy who gave a short thrust and the head
shot up through John's ring. John screamed and went rigid. Everyone
froze. Then with a sigh John relaxed and sank gently until he was
about halfway down the shaft.

There was enough play on the rack for Leroy to move his hips and fuck
him. The black hips began to thrust and the cock pistoned in and out
of John's ring.

"Underage white ass seems to turn him on." remarked Max watching his
victim thrust his way towards a climax.

Although Leroy was firmly gagged it was clear that he was getting
there fast. I reached out and touched the bit of his cock that is just
behind the balls. There I could feel the vessel that would carry his
load on its way from his balls into my lover's guts. Suddenly I felt a
stiffening as a wad of his jism raced past my fingers and on to its
destination. I counted nine as they passed, then the main eruption was
over. With a little help rubbing there I got him to shoot four more
times.

As usual, John kept the poor man's cock until it was limp. Then he got
off and went for it with his mouth. I could see the Negro fighting the
urge as John put pressure on his bladder.

"You might as well let him have it because he'll get it in the end." I
advised him.

But Leroy would not give up. His eyes were bulging and John was
getting nowhere at the speed of light.

"Oh dear, Leroy is being a naughty boy, Leroy is." said Max. "You must
learn not to resist Leroy, now I'll have to force you to do it."

Leroy began to thrash about as much as his bonds would let him, which
was not a lot. I had a sick feeling in my guts as I watched Max walk
over to the toy rack.

"Relax Nick, I'm not going to use thumb screws on him, just a bit of
water torture. We should have him flowing in nothing flat." he had a
nasty grin on his face as he spoke.

He produced one of the large Crisco cans. However it seems that
previous romps had used up its contents and it was now just an empty
can. He picked up the hose attachment and connected it to the shower,
then turned on the water to a dribble. The sound of the water tinkling
into the can could be heard.

Leroy really began to try to escape, but there was no way. Even I was
having an urge to pee when the dam finally broke, things began to flow
and John began to greedily drink from the weapon that had just fucked
him.

"I never knew that you were into water sports." said Max.

"I'm not." I sighed, "but he is and it's getting on my nerves."

I was a bit worried what would come out when Max removed the gag.
However his victim it appeared, after I removed all the "fuckings" and
other obscenities, had found it an exciting experience. Once he was
released he was hugging John and Max like they were long lost
relatives.

They cleaned themselves up and we all retired to the lounge for
drinks. By now I really needed an orange juice. Max settled for a G &
T, Leroy discovered that I stocked German lager and John raided my
best Scotch again.

We could have been considered a very normal little group, if you
passed over a couple of things, like Leroy and John did not have a
stitch of clothing on and John was sitting on Max's knee getting his
bum felt. For some reason, Max has a fascination for putting his
fingers where other men's cocks have been. Apart from that, John was
being the perfect host and kept the glasses full. In fact Leroy was
making serious inroads into my supply of German lager.

Eventually Max said that it was time to go and we still had to clean
up the Dungeon, so we all trooped back down. Then the bastards jumped
me. I'm big and I'm strong, but so was Leroy and there were three of
them. Max's main contribution was to sit on me, shit he's heavy, while
the other pair stripped me. To cut a long, and embarrassing, story
short I ended up on the rack face down and bum up.

A tip to any of you who find yourself in this unfortunate position,
shouting will do you no good at all. First no one who might come to
your aid will hear you and second you piss off those who can hear you,
which makes them gag you.

With great relish Max greased me up. Then John climbed on the table
and slipped me a length. Here he was on a bit of a looser. He was as
hot as hell, and I know how to use my ass when being fucked. So his
moment of triumph was brief and I had the satisfaction of feeling him
shoot his eager young load into me.

When John was finished, he slid off me. I waited for them to release
me but it didn't happen. Instead Max walked round in front of me. This
caused a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"So at last I've got you into bondage, Nick." he said grinning. "Now,
what will we do with you?"

He moved over to the racks of toys and I began to sweat blood. Some of
these would kill me and there was bugger all I could do about it. All
these years I had managed to avoid getting into this sort of situation
and now my nightmare was coming true.

"Nah, why bother with toys when we have the real thing." He said and
beckoned. Leroy moved into my field of vision, he was still naked and
very erect.

"Leroy is in to role-playing, aren't you Leroy?" he said, Leroy smiled
modestly.

I shuddered. Some of these role-playing guys can get really heavy.

"Now Leroy who do you think Nick here would like to play with?" Max
was clearly enjoying himself. He already had his hand on Leroy's ebony
buns and would bet real money he already had his fingers in Leroy's
ring.

"Hmm." said Leroy, taking pause for thought, "Rastus?"

"Ah yes, dear old Rastus. An excellent choice for Nick." He leered at
me as he said it.

"Nick, I'd like you to meet Rastus. Rastus just loves a quiet,
helpless partner, don't you Rastus?" he said

As he spoke Leroy changed from a nice, quiet, well-spoken, black guy
into a "Black with attitude".

"Yus." said Rastus.

"Wanna fuck him?" said Max in a cool voice.

"Yeah!" said Rastus, with a leering grin.

Standing directly in front of me he grinned and slowly began to apply
Crisco to that damned cock of his and I knew my fate was sealed. I was
about to be raped.

He moved to the foot of the rack and out of my sight. I felt the rack
move as he climbed on. Prying, greasy fingers entered me and began to
smear more Crisco right up inside me. When he decided I was slick
enough, they were removed. Ole George was now rigid.

About this point I began wondering just how fine the dividing line was
that separated role-player from schizophrenic. My one ray of hope was,
although Max hung around with some really heavy characters, he didn't
tolerate the truly flaky ones. They were all very controlled and not
liable to do any permanent damage. Mind you temporary damage could be
bloody painful too.

Rastus mounted me and immediately entered me. God, getting that big
cock head through my ring was an effort but once it was inside I could
cope with it. He carefully turned my face away from the others and he
obviously has a thing about talking to the helpless guys he fucked,
because he began to whisper in my ear. The others couldn't hear him
and I, of course, couldn't reply.

"Yo' ever had a Nigga in dere befo'." he asked.

I had, in the past, visited the USA and I know how they avoid the use
of some words; WC becomes bathroom or restroom. One thing that I had
been warned about was the "N" word. I must not use it and under no
circumstances must it be even thought about in the presence of a
Black. Now one had just whispered it in my ear.

"I asked yo' a question, Faggot. Yo' ever had a Nigga cock in dere
befo'?" He whispered fiercely.

I shook my head. It was true, I had never been with a guy whose skin
was darker than mine. I suppose that my slight colouring made me feel
special and I didn't really want to be outdone in this department. It
hadn't been a conscious decision. In fact, I only realised it when he
asked me.

"Well dat Nigga cock is going all de way up yo' an' dere ain't nuffin'
yo' can do to stop it, is dere? 'Cause yo all tied up. So I'm gonna
widen dat nice tight Faggot ass so it can take yo' Nigga's cock wifout
squealin' like a stuck pig. Right?"

Here he gave a thrust of his hips to emphasise his point. This drove
his thick cock about half its length into me. I could feel the bulbous
head move inside my guts. My ring tightened on his cock and he once
more began to pour abuse into my ear.

"Like it Faggot? Yo' like feeling a real man's cock inside yo'
precious ass?"

Again I nodded, there was no point in making him force me to nod.

"Den yo'll like de rest even more." Now he put continuous forward
pressure on his hips. My ring was gradually widened as the shaft of
his manhood slid all the way in. Try as I might, there were tears
forming in the corners of my eyes when I finally felt his wiry bush
press against my buns.

"Yeah, yo' just love having it in you, don't ya? Well here's a
surprise, der's mo."

Then I felt two big hands pull my buns apart this was followed by some
further forward pushing. God there was more of it! Only when my buns
were fully pushed aside and he was in to the hilt did the pressure
stop.

"OK now I'm gonna fuck yo'." He began his first backstroke. Shit he
pulled it right back until it was out! The head stretched my ring
mercilessly as it left me and suddenly I felt empty, then he drove it
all the way back in, again my ring got punished. It was all done
carefully and deliberately.

A groan of mine got past the gag.

"Yeah. It ain't like being fucked by a white man, is it?. When a Nigga
fucks yo', Faggot, yo' stays fucked."

Once more he withdrew completely and slid back up again, another twice
my ring got reamed by the head of his cock passing through it. On each
stroke, in or out, the bent head of his weapon pressed hard on my
prostate as it passed. The sensation defied description, all Ole
George wanted to do was cum and cum and cum. Unfortunately, I was in
no position to help him get there.

"Yo' know, since Max taught me I can hold back from cuming. Why befo'
I used to only last two minutes, now I fink I can last all night."

Fortunately, after about ten passes of the head of his cock through my
ring, it slackened and I found that I could take him. The quiet stream
of abuse in my ear slowly began to turn me on. I was his Faggot, he
was my Nigga. So what, I was helpless, but that didn't mean I couldn't
enjoy it. Gradually I got the rhythm of his slow thrusts and began to
move in opposition, helping him fuck me.

"See," he whispered in my ear, "yo' getting' de hang of it. Now yo'
really beggin' for it, ain't ya? Why if I stopped an' took it out now
you'd be pleading wid me to put it back in, wouldn't ya?"

I nodded, because it was the truth. I was being raped and I was
enjoying it. I wanted to feel that cock of his explode inside me. I
wanted to be filled with his cum. The bastard had me physically and
mentally. Ole George was now screaming for release.

"Well don't yo' go worrin' yo'self, Faggot, yo' Nigga's gonna fuck yo'
good an' proper."

I suppose he fucked me for about ten minutes, it seemed a lot longer,
but at last I could feel the change.

"OK Faggot, now yo' Nigga's gonna fill dat slack ass of yo's wid
Nigga's cum. Yo' ready fo' it?"

Again I nodded.

"Right here we go."

Now the speed increased dramatically. The length of the stroke stayed
the same. Every time he pulled back that cock head went through my
ring. Suddenly, he rammed straight home and held it there. I could
feel the cock throb as he filled me. As best as I could I used my ass
muscles to milk his cock.

"Yesssss." he whispered in my ear, "Yo' can have as much as yo' like.
Yo' sure know how to treat yo' Nigga right."

I could feel his heart beat pounding inside me through his cock.
Gradually his pulse slowed and that massive erection began to go limp.
I felt a wave of relief go over me. My ordeal was at last ending.

"Yo' boyfriend asked me to give yo' dis." he whispered.

I lay there wondering what the hell he was talking about. Then I
realised why John had been pouring beer into him. Slowly my guts began
to distend. I managed to make another moan be heard.

"Now yo' ain't nuffin' but a Nigga's pisspot. Right?" he snickered in
my ear.

Shit he must have had a full bladder because I was filling up fast and
couldn't tell him to stop. Then, I could feel the cock inside me
squirting fitfully as the last was pissed into me. All this was too
much for Ole George, he began pumping my seed out and I could feel it
warm against my belly and the rack.

"Hey Faggot, yo' cumin' fo' yo' Nigga? Dat's nice." again it was a
snicker.

The bastard had taken me totally. Never in my life have I had such an
intense, humiliating, but wildly exciting, sexual experience.

He slid his soft member out of me. I felt something cold replace it.
Then there was the tinkling of water in the drain and the pressure in
my belly began to go down.

"Just thought I'd save you from being messy." I heard Max say.

When the cuffs came off my wrists and ankles I felt stiff, I managed
to stand and Leroy helped me to the shower.

"So, how did you like your run-in with Rastus?" he said grinning, his
normal speech patterns returning.

"Which one is the real you?" I countered.

"Who knows?" he said mysteriously as we began to wash each other.

"Man, that was one wild fuck!" I said.

"Well it was a bit of a first for me too. Before Max taught me how to
hold on I was blowing after just a minute or so." he confided.

"All that dirty talk really turned me on," I confessed.

"Yes, it is strange. A lot of guys get their rocks off when you treat
them like shit." he grinned, "Next time you can tie me up and fuck ma
Nigga ass fo' me." he said, "I like it being done to me too. Hey that
bear cub of yours, he can really suck cock. Did you teach him?"

I nodded. Was this the same guy who had just fucked me? As I said,
some of these role-playing guys really get into their parts.

While the other pair were getting dressed I asked Max a few questions
and got a number of interesting answers. Next time I got John in the
Dungeon, he was in for the shock of his life.

John was a very quiet boy during the ride to take Leroy and Max home.
However after we let them off, he snuggled up to me and I wrapped an
arm round him.

"Are you mad at me?" he asked in a small voice.

"What, for me getting tied up and raped?"

He nodded.

"Hell no." I said hugging him as best I could with one arm, "I should
have seen it coming. It was not your fault that I was stupid. Besides
I would have missed that crazy fuck. That guy really knows how to turn
someone on." I told him

"Was that the first time you have been really afraid during sex?" he
asked.

"Yeah," I answered.

"Exciting, isn't it," he said.

"Yes, and I shall remember that the next time I get you tied up." I
said, making him shiver. I might not blame him but as sure as hell he
was really going to be scared shitless the next time I got him in the
Dungeon.

There was no more sex that night, we were both quite sated. So the
remainder of the evening was devoted to kissing and cuddling, and
being in love in the non-sexual sense. Which can be a lot of fun too.

Another week passed quickly. My love for John only deepened. Mind you
we were in no way completely compatible. He was untidy and just
dropped things everywhere. I wandered around picking them up and
putting them away. Nor in matters sexual were we seeing eye to eye. He
was bold and daring, he would attempt anything, just for the kicks. I
was careful, methodical, never taking chances.

Driving past that garage twice a day, taking John to and from school,
was becoming a bit of a temptation, mind you. I didn't really have a
good excuse for stopping until a small, light blue, Mini appeared
outside it with a "For Sale" sign on it. The money had started to come
through from that first job that I had done for Digby and so I could
afford to buy it for John. This would let me off the hook from driving
him to school every day.

So that Friday on the way to school I put the idea to him. I'll give
you a tip here; if you ever wish to offer an 18-year-old male his own
set of wheels, don't do it when you are driving. As most young males
would sell their soul, or anything else they possess, for their own
car, they tend to get excited when the offer is made.

Trying to steer a large car while a beautiful boy is kissing you and
promising you anything is not an easy task. Naturally Ole George was
screaming about taking the kid up on his offer there and then. But
somehow we made it to school.

We resolved to drop by the garage the next day and see about
purchasing the car. However I did take up his offer of abusing his
body when we got home that Friday night.

Dinner over we retired to the Dungeon. We moved the rack aside and set
up the frame. It was much more convenient for what I had in mind. I
stripped him naked and strapped him into the frame. I found one of the
light-excluding hoods that Max had recommended and put it on him. He
could still hear what was going on, but Max had thought of everything.

There was a reel-to-reel recorder and it could connect to earphones
built into the hood. I selected the tape that Max had recommended.
Quiet, but creepy, music but in the background you could hear people
moving around, muttered conversations, nasty clanking noises. John
could never be sure what was on the tape and what was real.

I then spent a delightful ten minutes fingering him. This got him
invitingly greased up, slackened and as randy as a fiddler's bitch.
When he was truly begging for it, I drifted off to wash my hands. If
he was that desperate, he could wait.

Tinker, who had until now been watching the proceedings from a
position of advantage on the stairs suddenly stood up and hissed. In
the silent that followed the chime sounded twice.

I quickly did the rounds and, as on previous occasions, I was waiting
at the door to meet them.

The Sergeant looked exasperated, the Constable resigned and the
Inspector seemed to be very determined, but in some pain. He limped
across the yard and still had a plaster on the side of his head.

"Ah, I see they fixed you up at the hospital again." I said, a little
too sweetly.

He just nodded and said, "We will carry on from where we left off last
time, Mr Mathews"

I nodded and walked slowly across the yard so that he could keep up.
Despite his injuries he did a most thorough search of the
outbuildings. Spending over an hour going through every nook and
cranny. The other pair and I followed him, even Tinker came along for
the ride, although he did it once again from the safety of my
shoulder. Finally the Inspector had to give up and we all returned to
the cars. It was clear that the Inspector was not a happy chappy at
all.

Now his ranting began. We got the "God hates gays" speech. Followed by
the "You will burn in Hell for all of eternity" whine. After he ran
through that lot he began the "I will keep on hounding you until you
repent your sins" bit. There I began to lose my cool. I stepped up to
him and towered over him, then I hunkered down so I was at his eye
level and spoke to him as if he was a child.

"Listen very carefully little man. I have spoken to my lawyer. He has
told me that I have already bent over backwards to accommodate your
fantasy. But now it is at an end. If you ever set foot on my property
again without my express permission or a valid search warrant in your
sweaty little hand, I will report you to your superiors for harassment
and emphasise that it is caused by you being a religious bigot. Do you
understand?" I said in a cold, level and hard voice.

He was now ashen, I think partly from fear and the rest from anger.
Clearly he was not used to being spoken to in such a manner. He
spluttered for a few seconds and then got into his car and roared off
down my drive at a reckless speed. In fact he made so much noise that
Tinker jumped off my shoulder and ran off.

"I think we will be leaving Sir." said the Sergeant diplomatically. He
and the Constable bade my good night and left in the second car, at a
more moderate pace.

After the second chime sounded I opened the panel to the Dungeon and
descended.

John was still nicely tied up. Every so often he would strain at his
bonds and ask if anyone was there. I walked over to him in the
knowledge he had no means of knowing he was no longer alone. I quietly
unzipped my pants, pulled out Ole George and greased him up. Then I
got into position behind my love without touching him, and without
making any other contact with his body, I entered him. Ole George slid
John on like a well-greased sea boot. John's screams echoed around the
Dungeon in a most satisfactory manner.

It is sort of kinky to roger someone who is naked while all you have
removed is your cock from your pants. Even more fun when they have
their sense of sight and hearing disabled. I knew that his entire
world was now centred on the cock that was running his ass for him. I
could sense his fear radiating from him. Ole George managed to hold
out for about five minutes before he supplied John's ass with extra
lubrication in the form of my load. I reached under him, got his cock,
and made him cum.

I took off the hood and released him. He hugged me tightly and cried
softly into my chest.

"You OK?" I asked and he nodded.

"Was it frightening enough for you this time?" He nodded vigorously.

"Not too much?" I asked.

There was a long pause before he shook his head. I think I had taken
him slightly beyond his limit.

When he had come down from his high I told him what had happened.

"Still no bad luck befell him this time." I concluded.

"Where is Tinker?" he asked.

"Tinker was safely on my shoulder throughout the whole thing." I
replied.

"No. Where is Tinker now?" he said

"I'm not sure, but he didn't jump off until after the Inspector left
in his car." I answered.

John smiled for the first time since I had released him.

For the rest of the evening we watched TV together, kissed cuddled and
played gently with each other's body, the way that lovers do. But
Tinker never turned up before we turned in for the night.

The blue flashing priority lights around the scene of the crash
blinded me. I was trying to get through the police, firemen and
ambulance crews to see who was involved the accident. I could hear the
screaming of other emergency vehicles converging on the scene.

"Let me through! I've got to get through." I shouted.

"For God's sake wake up. You're having a nightmare." said John shaking
me, and the scene dissolved.

"There was an accident. I couldn't see who was hurt. I thought I might
have lost you." Shit, I was crying.

John said nothing. He held me in his arms and I must have fallen
asleep again because suddenly it was morning.

Slowing John down long enough to have breakfast was a job, he wanted
to go and get his car right away. He was like a six-year-old who had
been promised a kitten. However the chime sounding once delayed our
departure.

"Oh shit! It's Mother." he said.

A couple of weeks ago this would have surprised me. Now it just caused
my to look round and make sure the place was tidy enough to stand up
to the visit of the mother-in-law.

We met her at the door. Her car was full of John's possessions.

"He is all yours now, Nicholas." she said as we unloaded, "Make sure
he has clean underwear and washes behind his ears."

"Is there any way I can get him to be a bit more tidy?" I asked.

"If you do I'll be most interested to hear about it." she said wryly.

She came in for a cup of tea; Tinker reappeared and jumped on her
knee. She stroked him idly as she spoke.

"Tell me Nicholas, do you now believe that a small cat can protect
you?" she asked.

"Well." I said thinking back. "He did warn us a couple of times, and
I'll swear that the Inspector never tripped over him."

She sighed in a disappointed fashion. "The other Monday things were
not, er, going well for you, were they?" she asked.

"Hell no! I have never had such a run of bad luck!" I said heatedly.

"Bad luck, good luck, are you sure that you can tell the difference?"
She was having fun.

"Well I just couldn't get that damned job out of the computer. It was
most frustrating."

She took a sip of her tea. "It wasn't all frustrating. I mean the hour
that you lost at the garage could hardly be labelled as `frustrating',
could it?"

John began to snigger. I wanted to hide my face.

"However let us stop looking at the short term and instead look at the
long term results. A series of alterations to your luck made sure
that, when Inspector Jenkins arrived in the middle of the night, you
were not wrapped round my son in bed. Instead you were wide-awake and
all traces of John's presence could be easily removed from view. Well,
almost all." she concluded enigmatically.

"You mean, I went through hell, just for that? Wasn't there an easier
way?" I asked.

"You asked me for my advice. I said that you must not push against
your luck. But when it came to the test, you pushed as hard as you
could. Why poor little Tinker here had to go flat out, just to keep up
with you." she explained, tickling Tinker under his chin.

I sat there stunned. The worst thing about it was, everything she said
made sense.

"At least you are not as bad as that poor Inspector. Now there is a
slow learner for you. Anyway I must be off. Ah, don't rush off to the
garage just yet, messengers come in threes and I am just the first. By
the way, I think that it is most kind of you to devote your time to
educating the garage man and his son. You really have improved their
lives." she said rising to leave. "Oh, and your friend Mike took your
advice, and you'll be pleased to know that it worked. He now has a
girlfriend, a slightly pregnant girlfriend. They'll discover in a
month or so, then get married. Just as well, he needed someone to look
after him."

There are times to admit defeat and shut up, this was one of them,
John unwisely snickered.

"Oh, Johnstone, lay off his good whisky, it is for special occasions
and it can get you into trouble." she said making John go bright red.

We saw her off and returned to the lounge.

"God, she gives me the willies." I said as we begun began unpacking
John's things.

"That's nothing." he replied, "You should see her at Halloween."

The chime sounded for her car leaving the drive. There was about a
ten-minute interval and it sounded again. I looked at Tinker, he was
sitting with one hind leg in the air, washing his bum.

"Messenger number two?" I said, and John nodded.

We went to the door and watched the car arrive. So there I was,
standing with my arm round my little bear cub, when the Sergeant
stepped out of the car. I nearly died. Tinker unconcernedly wound his
body round my ankles. The Sergeant walked over and greeted us.

"You must be young Johnston Williams?" he said, "A minor." he added,
grinning at me. "May I come in?"

Seated in the lounge, surrounded by what were most obviously the
personal possessions of an 18-year-old boy I looked at the Sergeant
and said, "You've known all along, haven't you?"

"Oh yes Sir, I am quite observant. It was the whisky glass that gave
you away, Sir. You see you don't drink. I checked in the local pubs
and you have never ordered anything stronger that a fruit juice. So
the way you reacted when you got a mouthful of whisky was a bit of
give away."

I nodded in agreement with his findings.

"I thought so. But you arrived at the door with a glass of whisky in
your hand, and a very good one too, if I may say so, I had a taste
from the glass after you put it down. Now, I thought. Why would a man,
who doesn't drink and lives alone, have a glass of whisky in his hand
when he answers the door. The only answer that fitted was; it was
someone else's whisky and you had not had time to dispose of it."

Dumbly I nodded.

"Now, that little detector down the end of your drive is very neat. It
took me quite a while to discover it. So any time a car enters your
drive you know about it?"

Again I nodded. My heart was in my boots. The only bright spot was,
Tinker was sitting on my lap washing himself. So, in theory at least,
I was not in danger. I decided to test this theory.

"So, you have come to arrest me?" I asked.

The Sergeant laughed. "Oh no Sir, I was never after you. It was the
Inspector who was hunting you down. One of his friends up in London
gave him a tip. He was determined to make an arrest, as you saw for
yourself. But that is all in the past. Which is really the reason for
my visit. There was a rather nasty accident at the end of your drive
last night."

I gulped, my nightmare flashed before me again.

"From what we could get out of him afterwards, the Inspector was
driving down your drive at one hell of a rate, when a small black and
white cat ran out in front of him, causing him to lose control of the
vehicle and slam into another on the main road."

Both John and I looked at Tinker.

The Sergeant caught the look. "Oh no Sir it couldn't have been your
cat. He was sitting on your shoulder when the Inspector drove off.
Strange though, the Inspector swore blind that it was your cat. But
the cat, yours or not, might well have saved the Inspector's life. Had
he hit that large tree opposite the end of your drive head-on, why I
doubt if he would have survived it. The speed he was moving at, he'd
never have braked in time."

I looked down at Tinker. He stopped washing himself, gazed at me
through half closed eyes, closed them in a lazy fashion, then he
resumed washing. This is the same reaction that I had got earlier,
when I took him to task about the dead mice turning up on the kitchen
floor.

"Is he badly hurt?" I asked.

"Not that much worse than the two previous occasions. However it took
the emergency teams ages to cut him out of the car. We were there most
of the night. And they are becoming sick of the sight of him down at
the hospital. However there was the matter of the other vehicle
involved. You see, it was the Chief Constable's car. It contained the
Chief and his good lady wife." There was a touch of satisfaction in
his voice.

"So I fear that Inspector Jenkins' career in the force will be limited
to paper pushing, or going round the schools teaching kids how to
cross roads. The truth be told, he was a townie, he didn't fit in to
the countryside. Wanting all the pubs to shut on time, chasing after
you, making trouble unnecessarily. He didn't understand how to live
and let live." he said standing to leave.

"I'll be off now Sir, and I don't think we'll be bothering you on this
matter in the future. The lads down the station, they're a
superstitious lot, they're all convinced you brought the Inspector bad
luck." he said, with a chuckle. "No Sir you will have to be a very
naughty boy indeed to see my lot up here on business.

Just as he got to the door he stopped and turned, "Just one last
question Sir, and you don't have to answer it if you don't want to.
How did you always know when it was the Inspector that was coming up
your drive?" he asked.

"Oh, the cat told us." I answered.

"Yes Sir, animals sometimes know things that we don't. It's a funny
old world and no mistake." he said.

I blinked. I had given him the true, if totally ridiculous, answer and
he had calmly accepted it!

Having seen the Sergeant off we returned to our unpacking. This time
it was the telephone that rang. I answered it and found that I was
speaking to David.

David is a gay, Jewish, lawyer who works closely with the police. So
closely in fact, that you can sometimes find a young Constable between
him and his mattress. Apart from him being partial to young men in
uniforms, or should I say, getting young men out of their uniforms,
David is a nice guy and has a bubbly personality. However in this case
I realised that I was talking to his professional alter ego, David the
lawyer.

"Ah Nick, I may have some very bad news for you, I hope I caught you
in time.
You remember that Ronnie chap, the chicken queen?" he said.

"Yes." I replied.

"Well for some time a few of us have suspected that he has been a
Copper's nark, turning some of us in to the law." he said.

"Ah!" said I, as things began to fit together.

"Well he had a bit of bad luck last night down in Brighton. It seems
that he picked up a twelve-year-old rent boy and was taking him back
to his hotel room when the night porter became awkward. Instead of
slipping the man some ready money, Ronnie got stroppy with him. The
porter chappy let them go up to the room, then called the police and,
when they arrived, let them into the room. There they found Ronnie up
to the hilt in underage rent boy." said David.

A howl of laughter escaped my lips.

"Oh I can see the funny side of it, old boy. But the little bugger is,
as our American cousins say, `singing like a canary'. Apparently you
had a run in with him at a party recently, where you appeared with a
lad of less than twenty-one summers." he said.

"Ah. Then I have some good news on that front. We have, er, em, worked
things out with the local police and they don't see it as a big
problem anymore. So it was Ronnie who shopped me. Most interesting." I
said.

We spoke for a while but John was hopping from foot to foot dying to
go and buy his car. Eventually I got off the phone and we set off for
the garage.

Again the forecourt was empty and we parked near the Mini, got out and
looked it over. It was two years old and in excellent condition. The
price was right and we had just got to the part where you kick the
wheels, when an excited voice called out, "Dad! He's come back!"

We turned to see the lad standing in his overalls. He seemed quite
pleased to see us and was beckoning back into the workshop to make his
Dad come and join us.

"You fucked him?" asked John.

I nodded.

"I wonder..." said John.

"Wait until you see Dad." I said.

Dad walked over smiling brightly, then he saw John and looked
questioningly at me.

John took one look at Dad and managed to say, "Wow!"

"'e yours." said Dad in his usual brief way.

I nodded.

"Fuck 'im?

Again I nodded.

Dad walked up to John and looked him over. Then he motioned to John to
turn round so he could inspect the other side. As John obeyed I could
see he was already sporting a boner.

"He's been hoping you would come back, so you could teach me more."
said the lad. "I'll close up for lunch, Dad?"

Dad was still looking John over and licking his lips as he did so, he
nodded to his son.

"Kin I fuck 'im?" asked Dad, in his rather direct manner.

"Ask him." I said.

"Want fucked?" he asked John. Who by now was bright red from being the
centre of the man's lust.

"Are you going to take the nice man up on his romantic proposal?" I
asked my dumbstruck lover. As I reached into my car's glove box and
retrieved the tube of KY.

He nodded and Dad led the way.

We all ended up in the bedroom. The centre of interest was the large
double bed. Without thinking three of us began stripping and Dad just
unzipped his coverall from neck to crotch allowing his manhood to
spring out.

Dad took one look at John and said "'in't 'e hairy?"

"My little bear cub." I said remembering Leroy's description from the
previous evening.

"Dad wants you to teach me how to swallow him whole. He said you could
do it if you had enough time." said the lad.

"Tricky, but possible, provided you are both willing to pay attention
and control yourselves." I said. Then looking straight at Dad I
continued, "No matter how hot you get, you have always got to remember
you could easily choke your partner. Especially in your case where you
are so much bigger and stronger than he is. Do you both understand?"

Both nodded.

"OK John up on the bed with you, on your back with your head over the
edge and we'll show them how to swallow cock." I said

I carefully explained about getting the throat dead straight. Then I
explained about gagging and how to control it, not by fighting it, but
by relaxing and accepting it. I demonstrated by running Ole George all
the way down John's willing throat.

"Hell!" said the man in disbelief.

After I pulled out I had the son take John's place and spent an age
teaching him to do the same. Finally, his nose was pushing into my
balls. He was learning.

Dad now seemed keen to try spearing his son from the top end but I
insisted that he first practise on me. Under my tuition he learned to
take things slowly and carefully. He also got the concept of
"consideration for his partner before his own pleasure" drummed into
his head.

When I was finished he got his son to lie down and deep throat him. It
was quite a sexy sight, a man dressed in a set of coveralls, with his
cock out, kneeling beside the bed and running the cock in and out of
his son's throat. He didn't last long but he had enough sense to pull
back and let the boy breath before pushing home and dumping his load
down there.

I let him alone to see if he would pull out in time and he did. He
seemed well pleased with the boy and nodded in his direction. "Want
'im?"

"I think the lad deserves some reward for all his work. Would you like
to fuck John?" I said.

The son looked amazed. "I've never fucked anyone before." he said.

I went to my jacket and produced the KY. Then I spend a while teaching
the pair of them how to finger your partner and get him nice and
slick. Neither seemed squeamish and happily had a go at John's ring.
Finally I had the pleasure of applying the lube to the son's, not
inconsiderable, dick.

Now at my direction the son got on top for the first time in his life.
I showed him how you must place your knees inside the other guy's
legs, so you can hold them apart if, you need to. Then how he should
enter his partner causing the maximum pleasure and minimum pain.

When he was in John, he stopped and said, "I never thought it would
feel this good."

"Kid, you ain't seen nothing yet. OK my little bear, move your ass for
the nice boy." I said.

Obligingly John began to wriggle around on the pole that spiked him
making the son shudder and moan. I smiled and winked at Dad. He just
stood there watching, hardly believing his eyes as his son fucked
another boy. As he stared, his erection began to come back.

The son experimentally tried moving his hips. The sensation seemed to
be instantly addictive because he speeded up and entered the end game
immediately. He was whooping like a Hollywood cowboy when he came.

"Leave it in him till you go limp." I advised the son, and he did.

When they finally parted I applied the KY to the father's cock. For
the first time I felt a pang of jealousy about John, he was getting
this and I wanted it.

Dad took his son's place and, surprisingly gently, entered John. John
groaned slightly at the difference in sizes but soon was treating the
father to what the son had just enjoyed. Dad didn't just hang around,
he reverted to his old style fucking, ram it in and out till you cum.

The sensation of a new ass round his cock seemed to get him going and
soon he was making the animal sounds at the back of his throat, which
signalled that the end was nigh. Shit, he didn't half ram it home as
he came.

When Dad managed to retrieve his manhood from John's cock-trap we took
a short break to clean up, grab some lunch and let the three of them
catch their breath, then back to the bedroom.

Now, the only cock in the place that was still unsatisfied was Ole
George, and he was giving me gyp about it. I pushed the son and he
fell onto the bed on his back.

Grabbing his ankles I shoved them up towards his head and spread them
as wide as I could. This left his puckered ring fully exposed. Beside
me the other pair watched with interest, as I lowered my lips to meet
it.

There was a gasp of astonishment from Dad as I began to rim his son.
"Why?" he asked.

"It feels nice and makes him want to be fucked." replied John, since I
was busy using my tongue for something other than talking.

I kept it up until the lad was moaning then stopped, let go of his
legs and turned him over on to his hands and knees, in a nice position
to be fucked by someone standing beside the bed. Grabbing the KY I
began to grease him up.

"OK John get under him in a 69 then you can suck each other off and as
an extra treat you can have a nice view of him being fucked." I said
as I began readying Ole George for his travels.

When John was in position I let Ole George glide into the lad. At the
same moment John must have slipped his mouth round the lad's meat,
because he gasped then John's hands came into view and pulled the
lad's head down and encouraged him to put his mouth to some good use.

I was just getting the lad's ring used to Ole George when I felt the
cool sensation of KY being applied to my ring. The rather large male
member of Dad quickly followed this. As he slithered up into me the
kinkyness of it began to get to me. Here I was reaming out the ass of
a boy while his father was poking me.

Even kinkier was the fact that the other two just kept still. As I
moved my hips in the process of fucking the lad, the same action moved
my ass up and down his Dad's hard rod. I had never been the meat in a
sandwich before but I must admit, it has much to recommend it.

Strange to say, the one who was only getting a single stimulation, was
the first to begin losing it. Dad stopped standing still and began
moving his shaft harder and deeper into me. Eventually he was doing
all the work by driving into me with such force that Ole George was
being moved up and down the lad's rear passage.

Dad began growling then I could feel his weapon begin to discharge its
load inside me. The sensation of such a butch man having an orgasm in
my guts was affecting Ole George. I began moving him in and out of the
lad and even as my ring was teasing the last of his father's cum out,
Ole George began redecorating the boy's interior by showering it with
my jism. I didn't have to hold on for long until I felt the son's
sphincter muscles telegraph the message that the kid was shooting.
Having the lad cum in his mouth was enough to encourage John to return
the compliment.

Slowly we began disentangling our bodies. John crawled out from under.
Dad slid a wilted cock from my ass. I slowly dragged Ole George back
into the daylight, and the kid got off the bed.

As before Dad went into the kitchen, cleaned his cock and zipped
himself up again. There was no way three of us could get under the
shower together so I let the younger pair go in first. There was a bit
of whispering and giggling going on in there, and I had a feeling in
my water that the pair of them were up to something. I had a fair idea
what it was and who would be their victim.

By the time I was through the shower, dried and dressed the others
were in the kitchen. As I joined them I watched their little game
begin. The son worked his way round until he was behind his father.
John walked boldly over and unzipped the man fully then knelt before
him and placed the man's limp cock in his mouth. The son now reached
round his father and, obviously at John's directions, squeezed hard on
his bladder.

Dad looked puzzled by all this and said, "Gotta pee."

I sighed. "Just let go in his mouth, it turns him on and you'll get no
peace until you do."

Dad shrugged, a look of concentration came on his face then John began
gulping. While Dad might not have thought much of the idea I did
notice that his cock came out of John's mouth a lot larger than it
went in and he had to zip up with some care. Now, at last, we could
get round to the process of buying the car and it made John a very
happy lad. At last I got to know why men like buying expensive
presents for their lovers. It gives you a nice warm fuzzy feeling
inside.

Eventually we set off back to the farm in convoy, John leading, and so
our life together began. Since this was a story about beginnings, and
that beginning has now ended so too must my tale.

The Epilogue.

But all that was back in the mid seventies and here we are at the end
of the nineties. As John's mother predicted, his tryst with Big Al did
him some good. We got invited to some of their straight parties, which
consisted of medical types. So as John's career advanced, doors opened
easily just ahead of him, as he made his way to the rank of consultant
pathologist. You see, he wanted to be a doctor and still get eight
hours sleep a night, every night.

As the Sergeant predicted, the Inspector never crossed my path again.

Ronnie, the chicken queen, came up before one of the old fashioned
Judges and was sent down for a long time. From what I heard the other
prisoners didn't like child molesters any more than the Judge, so his
stay at her majesty's expense was not a pleasant one. I never met him
again either.

However the Father and son from the garage became firm friends with us
and we had many happy times with them. Mind you it took us quite a
time to get the father to strip.

Tinker kept nudging my luck in the right direction. Most times I
didn't notice it, but on two occasions it made my hair stand on end.
The first was a set of traffic lights suddenly going red as I
approached, no amber, just straight from green to red. I stopped and
watched as a truck on the far side of the junction crossed over the
road and smashed through a shop front. If I had not stopped I would
have been hit and most likely be as dead as the truck driver, who had
had a heart attack at the wheel.

The second time we were going to the airport to fly off on holiday.
The familiar feeling of swimming through treacle came back as one
thing after another slowed us down. I now had enough sense not to
fight it and we arrived at the airport to find that the plane to our
promised Caribbean paradise was long gone.

The lady at travel company desk was most helpful and in less than 4
hours we were winging our way to a Greek island for our holiday. After
about four days I found a radio with a short-wave band and tuned to
the BBC World Service to get the news. Our Caribbean paradise had been
hit by a hurricane.

Leroy left the Navy, moved to England and, to everyone's amazement,
actually became Max's lover. So we have had loads of fun with Rastus
and his other characters.

Michael and his wife turned out to be a very fecund couple. The first
three were boys and the last pregnancy produced twin girls. A farm is
a wonderful place for children and they seemed to spend more of their
growing years with their two uncles than they did with their parents.
So our home echoed with the sound of children playing. (In fact the
first of the next generation is running around now.) But it was when
their second son was born that John's mother came to see us.

"This one will need some extra help from you pair, he is gay." she
informed us. "Just make sure he doesn't get his head filled with all
that moral rubbish during his formative years. It's hell to get rid of
it in later life."

And so little Martin walked into our life. The mother-in-law was, as
usual, right. Even as a babe in arms he liked being held by males more
than females. As a toddler he would follow me everywhere and hold onto
my leg whenever I stopped.

As the years passed his interest in Ole George grew. Every time I
tried to change my clothes Martin would suddenly appear trying for a
glimpse. In the end I just gave up. If he wanted to look he could, but
as neither Ole George nor I were into little boys, looking was as far
as it went. More years went passed and he grew into a teenager.

One time it was a bit embarrassing. John and I had nipped off for a
slither. For those who don't understand the term "slither", let me
digress long enough to explain.

You strip the bed down to the bare mattress and cover it with a large
plastic sheet. Then both of you strip off and climb on the bed. Next
you need a large bottle of baby oil and, taking turns, you rub it all
over your partner. Then you wrestle and see who can get on top. Fun,
but messy fun.

Now we had just started and John was winning, he got bigger as he got
older and not as easy to pin down, when there was a slight noise from
the wardrobe.

"Oh heck, that little bugger Martin is hiding in the wardrobe." John
whispered in my ear. "What do we do? Stop and throw him out or give
him a show?"

"What would your mother advise?" I whispered back.

"Give the little beggar a show." was the reply, so we did.

After John has slaked his lust on me, I climbed on him and young
Martin finally got to see Ole George in action. It must have excited
him a lot because by the time Ole George had finished ravishing John's
innards Martin was sitting in the open door of the wardrobe making no
attempt to hide.

By the time Martin came out of the wardrobe his sexual education had
advanced a lot. He seemed quite unashamed, but he did have a lot of
questions. So after we had got cleaned up, (ever try to get baby oil
out of bear fur) we answered all of them. If necessary we showed him
how something was done, but on each other, he could only watch.

The years rolled on and each of the children lost his or her virginity
to their boy or girlfriend at our place. John supplied the condoms and
the sex education. So all the kids had happy natural approach to sex
as they became adults.

Tinker? Oh, he's still around. I commented to John on the fact that he
seemed sprightly for his age.

"Cedric is older than I am." He replied. "Mother bestows a human life
span on them. She's a sentimental old dear."

Not exactly how I would have described her, but there we are.

What happened to me? Well Digby's company did put me on their
preferred vendors list. This brought me a lot of business and I
expanded way beyond the farm. When I became large enough, Digby's
parent company decided to buy me out and do their own installations.

This gave me a small amount of capital, but an option to buy a block
of their stock at a fixed, low price every year, for the next ten
years. Tinker must have been doing a bit of luck-nudging because the
stock price rose and rose. In the end I began playing the market and
I'm now a paper millionaire.

Last, but not least, Ole George? Well his favourite hiding place is
still to be found between those furry buns of John.

The End.