Date: Fri, 11 Jul 2008 22:11:34 +0200 (CEST) From: Teresa Yam Subject: THE MILKY BAR KID (Gay/Young Friends) We were in the kitchen. I was helping Mom with the breakfast things. The morning sun was slanting in through the half open window, making me squint at her. She had just announced something that had put a downer on my plans for the next couple of weeks. "Aw, Mom... You're not expecting me to spend my time amusing that dork, Arnie?" "He's your cousin, Ross. It's only for a fortnight while your Uncle Brad and Auntie Kay are away." "It's a real pisser, Mom. I was going to hang out with the guys. We'd all planned to go up to Red Rock sometime." "Now listen -- it won't hurt you to be nice to Arnie for the short while he's here. I know he annoys you, Ross. But you have to learn to be more tolerant -- it's all part of growing up." "He's such a kid. All he wants to do is play cowboys and Indians." "Well, I'm sure Arnie would love to see Red Rock as much as you. You can tell him all about its history." "Oh, great! I'm never going to live it down being seen with that misfit." "I won't have you talking about your cousin like that. Arnie's a lovely, gentle boy." "He's a dork, Mom. And he still plays with toys." "He's just a bit slow in maturing. Some boys are like that and you shouldn't hold it against him. Anyway, I've virtually promised Brad and Kay that you'll take good care of him. It's only for a couple of weeks, not a lifetime. Now let's hear no more about it." "Thanks a bunch, Mom." So that was that. I was stuck with it. Mom had made up her mind and when she made up her mind there was no shifting her. Anyway, she'd committed me now -- to ridicule and humiliation too, I shouldn't wonder - should the guys, Richie and Bobby ever get to hear of it. In fact, I also got lumbered with meeting Arnie off the Greyhound that afternoon. My aunt and uncle lived in the next state and dropping their little darling off in the car first would have taken them a long way out of their way and they couldn't afford the time because they already had a long journey ahead of them and a plane to catch. I couldn't believe it when Arnie stepped off the bus. He looked gawkier than ever. His spectacles looked even thicker than I remember a year previous, and to top it all, he was wearing a soppy cowboy outfit complete with a white hat - one of the good guys. I sort of shrank into the ground. I even considered abandoning him right there and then, pretending I hadn't recognised him and walking off into the sunset. I was so embarrassed. I just didn't want to be seen with him. "Howdy, Woss." "Hi, Arnie." I took his suitcase, walking just ahead of him. I didn't want him keeping step with me and he was a dawdler anyway. "How was your trip?" "Okay, I guess." "Yeah? How long it take?" "Seemed like ages. About five hours. It was boring, Woss." "Hey kid... My name's Ross... That's Ross with an `R'" "I know what your name is, Woss." "Yeah, but you don't say it right." "I do twy to say it wight, Woss." "Well, try harder, for Christ's sake!" It was about a fifteen minute walk from the bus station back to the house. We walked through the town. Arnie was going on about something or other. I'd already grown tired of his childish conversation and I had decided to shut my hearing down for the time being. Suddenly there was a shout behind me... "Wossy, look. Oh, please come and look." I stopped and turned around. Arnie was peering into a shop window. I might've guessed it -- a toy store. "Come on, Arnie. We haven't got all day. Tea'll be on the table." "Oh, Woss, please... I want to show you something." I felt myself getting impatient. I really didn't want this shit. But he wasn't going to budge until I'd taken a look at what he'd seen in the window. I went back and stood next to him. His face was a picture of wonderment, and his thick glasses seemed to reflect every toy in the store. But in that moment my heart did a kind of flip. I can't explain it. "Just look, Woss. See..?" He was pointing to something now. "Can you see it? Isn't it beautiful?" Lying on top of its cardboard presentation box, in the centre of the window display was a silver six-shooter, with a mock pearl-inlay hand-grip. It was gorgeous and sparkling, and I had to admit -- a beauty, as Arnie so rightly had said. But it was still a toy, and I couldn't help despising him for it. "Oh, Woss, I'd love a gun like that. Could you buy it for me?" "You've already got one, Arnie. What you need another for?" Arnie took his gun out of the holster, twirled it around like a seasoned gunfighter and offered it to me. I put the suitcase down and took the gun from him. "Nothing wrong with this one, Arnie." Which was true enough, although I could appreciate it was a crude replica in comparison to the one in the window. It was cheap black colt copy with a white plastic handle. I gave it back to him and he spun it again before putting it back into the holster. "Isn't it a beauty, though Woss?" "Sure. But your gun's fine too." "But I want that one. Will you buy it for me, Woss?" "Hey look, kid. Let's get one thing straight. I'm not made of money. Nor are my parents. That there piece is almost fifty dollars. I don't carry that kind of dough around with me anyway." Arnie looked deflated and I almost felt a bit sorry for him. He stared back into the window and his bottom lip came out in a sulk. "What's the matter, Arnie. You used to getting your own way all the time?" He didn't answer me, just stood stock still, staring into the window, looking ever more downcast. "Come on, Arnie. We've got to go." He ignored me and stayed put. I took his hand to try and lead him away. But he snatched it back. "I weally want that gun, Woss. I think you're mean." One thing was for sure; Arnie didn't have a clue about economics. Fifty dollars was a small fortune to me. If it had been about ten, or even twenty dollars, I probably would've caved in just to shut him up. But fifty? I had the whole summer vacation to get through yet, and splashing out a load of cash on a toy for a snotty kid didn't quite cut it for me. But something had happened to me back there when I felt that thing for Arnie. Yeah, he was irritating the hell out of me, but there was something appealing about his gawkiness, his naivety, his vulnerability. There was something soft about him, something that I felt compelled to take advantage of, but I couldn't put my finger on it... Yet. We got home, Arnie unpacked his stuff, and we had tea, Mom and Dad making polite conversation at the table while I tried to figure something out about Arnie. And then, in a flash it came to me. THE MILKY BAR KID! That was it, that's just who he reminded me of. Boy, if he continued to wear that stupid outfit he was in for a hard time - and no mistake! Then there were the sleeping arrangements. Arnie was to have my bed and I was to be relegated to the `camper' on the floor, which struck me as a bit topsy-turvy. I mean, I know Arnie was our guest, but he's only a little guy and he would `swim' in my bed. While, there I was, all five feet ten of me, inside a too small sleeping bag, struggling to get comfortable on a rickety piece of and aluminium and canvas. Well, life's a bitch, and then you die... Or so they keep telling me. I went to the bathroom, cleaned my teeth, attacked an annoying spot on my forehead, and returned to see Arnie getting into some striped pyjamas. Can you believe it? I didn't think anyone wore those things these days. I wondered if he'd ever graduate to a tee-shirt and shorts like myself, which was what guys generally wore these days. "Jesus, Arnie... Is there anything about you that's 21st century?" "What?" "It doesn't matter." I picked up a soccer magazine from the bedside table and plonked down on the side of my bed -- or rather, Arnie's temporary one. I flipped it open. "What would you like to do tomorrow, Arnie -- any ideas. kid?" Arnie had removed his glasses and was peering at himself in the wardrobe mirror, right up close. He was seriously short-sighted; he half-closed his eyes and tried to focus on his reflection. He looked totally different without his specs on. In fact, and I hate myself for saying this, he was a pretty good-looking kid - I had to admit it -- and I mean pretty. He had beautiful blue eyes, a little button nose, and a soft, full mouth. My heart did that little flip again. "I'm getting contacts in the fall," he said. "Yeah? Good for you, kid." "Do you think I'll get used to them?" "Who knows? I don't know about that stuff." Arnie put his specs back on and turned around to face me. "Will you wead to me, Wossy. Just for a while. It helps me sleep." "Hey, Arnie... You're putting me on, right?" "Mom weads to me sometimes." "Yeah? Well, I ain't your mommy. And I ain't your wet nurse, either." "Aw, come on, Wossy... Just one. I've got a book." "Don't call me `Wossy', Arnie. You're doing my head in. How many times I got to tell yer? It's Ross, for Christ's sake." "Don't tell me off, Woss." "Somebody ought to teach you how to speak properly, kid." "We gonna play tomorrow, Woss." "Sure. What'll it be -- Ring-a-Ring-of-Roses... skipping... something like that?" Arnie hopped onto the bed. "How about cowboys and Indians?" he said. Now why did I know that was coming? "What is it with you, Arnie? Is that all you can think about - fucking cowboys and Indians?" "I don't like it when you swear, Wossy." "Is that so? Well, you better get used to it, kid, because the way we're going on, you're gonna get plenty of it, believe me." In the end I did read to him, his book -- Roy Rogers. Yeah, who else? The good thing about it, he went off to sleep after a couple of minutes. Poor kid looked tuckered out. Must've been the bus journey. Five hours on the Greyhound. That's enough to tucker anybody out. I don't know what came over me, but as I looked at him lying there, all peaceful, I had this almost uncontrollable urge to kiss him, just on the forehead; a goodnight kiss. It was kind of weird, you know? Like Arnie was my own kid. I can't explain it. But all I did was, I tucked him up nice like he wanted and smoothed the hair off his forehead. He looked kind of cute lying there and suddenly I became aware that my heart was racing. Worse thing of all... I had one hell of a boner that was tenting my shorts. My god, what was happening to me? I turned the light out and tried to get comfortable on the camper bed. It was useless... I couldn't sleep. That kid Arnie had gotten into me and I couldn't work it out. I felt confused. I mean Arnie was my young cousin, a dork and a sissy. He annoyed me like no other person had before in my life. What was this strange affection I was feeling for him? But it wasn't only affection, and that was the trouble. What I felt for Arnie was kind of sexual as well and it was hurting the hell out of me. I mean I was lying there in the dark, listening to the crickets outside the window, playing with my knob while I thought about Arnie. It was plain crazy. I thought about the kiss I had nearly given him. Maybe I should have gone through with it. He would never have known. He'd been too far gone. But why should I have wanted to kiss him at all? When I thought about it, it horrified me. Not the thought of doing it, just the thought of what others would think if they should ever find out. Ross Cunningham kissing a guy, well, not even a guy, really - a boy, a kid, a dork. Yeah, that'd make the front page all right. Not that they would find out. But Jesus, how would I ever live that one down with the guys if it ever got out? I got some tissues from the bedside table and began wanking off to naughty thoughts of my cousin, Arnie. In less than a minute I was blowing my load with an orgasm that nearly jack-knifed my body in half. And then I had that feeling of guilt and shame that sometimes follows an orgasm caused by thinking about something you shouldn't be thinking about. I wiped myself and smelled the tissue like I always did after coming. The faint ammonic aroma that seemed to accompany my goo these days was getting stronger with every new emission. I balled the tissue up and tossed it towards where I estimated the waste basket to be in the dark. At least maybe now I would be able to sleep. I needed it. There were lots of adventures I was planning for my cousin, but they weren't the kind that Arnie was looking forward to. My take on playing cowboys and Indians was quite different to Arnie's -- and that was a goddam certainty. Well, cranking one out before I went to sleep did nothing to settle my mind because I had a damned weird dream that night. Arnie appeared as Roy Rogers, my mother was a bell-hop-bunny on roller skates, selling candy and ice cream, Richie and Billy were outlaws, and I was some sort of cowboy, the one with the black hat -- another bad guy. This is how it went: Me and Arnie were watching an old Roy Rogers movie on the TV with the lights out for maximum effect. He's got his cowboy outfit on and his face is a picture of wonderment, just like when he was looking into that store window, absolutely transfixed by this Roy Rogers dude. Then suddenly I was aware of somebody else coming into the room as a beam of light swept around the walls. I turned around. It was an usherette with a flashlight fixed over the candy and ice cream on her tray. She was dressed like a bell-hop-bunny with roller skates and the skirt to her uniform was incredibly short. She had great legs and as my eyes gradually made their way north, they came to rest on her hooters for a moment -- great tits too. And then I saw her face, and oh, Jesus... I nearly jumped through the roof. "Like some popcorn, boys?" "MOM..! W-what the hell are you doing here?" "I live here, honey," she said. "Don't tell me you've forgotten? Hope you're looking after your cousin." Dreams, huh? Aren't they just the weirdest things? We bought candy, ice cream and popcorn and got back into the film - or rather Arnie did. Then suddenly it's as if I've literally entered into the movie and I'm galloping across the prairie going somewhere and nowhere in a hurry, a plume of dust trailing behind me and my horse. I think I'm the guy with the black hat. Suddenly, I'm ambushed by Indians. They take me prisoner, peg me out like a starfish on the sand and start circling around me on their horses. They taunt me, sing their war songs and whoop and they look like they're preparing to do some pretty nasty things to me. A few of them are on foot doing the old war dance routine. I try to shout at them, tell them they've got the wrong guy; but my voice won't come out. I try like mad until I'm red in the face but I can't seem to make a sound. They just keep circling round and getting ever more riled up. Suddenly, Arnie appears at the top of a bluff, a six-shooter in each hand. He is flanked by two other riders and intuitively I know these are going to be Richie and Bobby. Arnie looks resplendent in his cowboy outfit, the sun reflecting off his deputy badge. He's like a saint, a saviour, the crusader with the white hat, sent by the Big Man upstairs to get me out of a tight fix. He fires off a couple of shots into the air, stopping the Red Indian goons in their tracks. They look totally shocked, and before they can organise themselves to retrieve the situation, Arnie and his sidekicks are bearing down on them, all guns blazing. He sees them off. I guess they just didn't fancy their chances against a gun-crazy gang. The Indians saddle up in double-quick time and get way out of the place. Arnie, Richie and Billy trot round and come to rest, their horses panting and sweating. "Well done, guys. Get me out of here," I tell them. "Come on, Arnie... Cut the ropes." But incredibly he just smiles and stays astride his magnificent grey steed. "Hey, what's going on, Arnie, man? Come on, Kid... Let's go!" "Before I let you go, Wossy, I want you to make a deal with you." "Huh?" "I want you to pwomise me something, Wossy." "Is that so?" Richie and Bobby push their black hats further up their foreheads and laugh. "Hey, guys... Richie... Bobby... How about it? Get me outa here." "No way, bro. You're getting' what you deserve," said Richie. "Say, that's right," added Bobby. "All those nasty thoughts you got about, Arnie... I wouldn't blame that kid if he refused to piss on you when you're on fire." Note Bobby said `when', not `if'. "So you see, Woss... Looks like you're in some kinda fix here." "Okay, Kid. Let's have it. What you got in mind?" "You know exactly what I want, Wossy. I alweady told you." "Yeah, the gun, right? And I already told you I can't afford it, Kid." "I don't believe you, Woss." "Too bad, Kid. I'm just stating a fact. I can get you something else." "Like what?" "Well... Hey, why don't you just untie me and let's discuss it." "I'm sowwy, Woss. I've already decided." Arnie dismounts and saunters towards me, hands on holstered guns. The sun blinds my eyes until Arnie's head blots out the rays for a moment as he stands over me, legs astride, looking down at me and chewing gum. His tousled blond hair appears illuminated like a mass of fibre-optics. "I think the Kid means business, Ross, old buddy," said Bobby. "He got that mean look in his eyes." "How can you tell," I said. "I can't see shit through them bottle-bottoms." "That's not funny, Woss." "It wasn't meant to be, Kid." "You shouldn't mess with me, Wossy. You never know what could happen." "Why don't you make him suck your dick?" Richie said to Arnie, with a smirk. "Nah... That'd be too easy. Anyways, he'd only enjoy it. Ain't no punishment, to a perv like him." Richie laughed, a thin, mocking sound that drifted up into the air. He struck a match on his stubbly chin, lit a thin cheroot. The smoke rose up from his face and sailed away in the wind. "Her, Kid," said Richie, passing the cheroot to Arnie. "Take this, it'll make you look tougher." Arnie obliged, took a puff, and nearly coughed his guts up. "Yuk!" said Arnie. "Tastes like shit." "Yeah," said Bobby. "But it sure is good shit, huh, Kid?" "I should stick to the candy cigarettes if I were you, Arnie," I said. Arnie rolled the joint around his lips, narrowing his eyes behind the glasses, trying to get the tough look. I wanted to laugh. He kicked my foot. He didn't like the fact I found something amusing. "You tryin' to be funny, Woss? I mean, what's so damned funny?" "Well, okay, Kid... if you really want the truth..? You oughta see yourself. I mean, you just look... you look ridiculous, man. Just fucking ridiculous." Arnie took another puff, got the lighted end into a nice glow. "I've told you before about swearing, Woss. And you ain't gonna be laughing in a minute either, fella," Arnie growled out the words between coughs, which he was doing his very best to stifle. "And you're gonna be sorry you said that" He cocked his head to the side, keeping his eyes on me. "Hey guys..! I got me an idea. Get the dude's pants off. Maybe I can get this dumb-fuck to see things my way after all." At Arnie's command, Richie and Bobby moved menacingly towards me, crouched on their haunches and put their hands on the belt of my jeans. But I didn't feel scared. In fact, quite the opposite. I feel kind of tingly and excited. My dick has suddenly perked up too. Richie and Bobby begin to wrench at my belt, but it won't budge. "Stand clear!" snarls Arnie. "I'll handle it." The thin cheroot waggles in the corner of his mouth as he speaks. Richie and Bobby stand aside while Arnie kneels down in front of me and lines up his six-shooter with the buckle on my belt. "Arnie... What the fuck - ?" Suddenly the gun spits fire and there is a clink of metal as part of the buckle breaks away into the air. The sound of gun-shot clatters around the canyon in a series of ricocheting echoes. "Arnie, for God's sake... You could've blown my fucking balls away." "Aw, quit belly-achin', Wossy. I know what I'm doing. I ain't hurt yer none." He chuckles and shows a row of large buck teeth. He turns his head slightly to the side. "Okay, fellas... Get his goddam pants off. Let's have a look-see what he's got in there." "Watcha gonna do, Arnie?" says Richie, tugging at the waistband of my jeans. "Maybe rough him up some?" adds Bobby, pulling at the legs. "You know, like give his balls some aggravation. That'll be fun to watch." My jeans slide away down my thighs, exposing my white boxers. "Nah, I got me a much better idea." "What the hell you playing at, Arnie, you stupid dork?" My voice sounds hysterical, like it has risen a whole octave higher. "Now his shorts, fellas. Looks like his got a hard-on already. I'll soon fix that." Richie and Bobby carry out Arnie's request and get my shorts down to expose my rock-hard dick which bobs jauntily in the prairie breeze. "Well, well," says Arnie. "Just get a load of this beauty." At this, Arnie puffs the cheroot into a hot glow and then takes it out of his mouth, holding it between forefinger and thumb. He fixes me with an evil grin and then moves the smouldering end closer and closer towards my dick..." "Arnie..! For God's sake..! ARNIEEE! NOOO.!" Suddenly I was aware of someone standing next to the camper bed. My heart was going like a steam-hammer. "You were making a noise, Wossy. What's the matter?" "Please, Arnie... Don't do it..!" "I'm not doing anything, Woss. Were you dreaming?" "Oh, shit, man. Yeah... Sorry kid. I was way out of it - and some. A real, fucking nightmare - it was terrible." Arnie stepped closer and smoothed my brow with his cool hand. I grabbed his wrist. "Hey, kid! What do you think you're doing?" "You're all hot and sweaty, Wossy." "Yeah..? Well so'd you be too if you'd just been through what I did." "Calm down. Mommy always let's me sleep in her bed when I have bad dreams." "Is that a fact? And I'll bet she gives you a lubby-dubby kiss and cuddle too, huh?" I didn't expect Arnie to answer this, but he said: "Yes she does." "Jesus, Arnie. You're something else. What does your Daddy think about it? Bet he's over the moon about sharing his bed with you and your mom." "He sleeps in the spare room." "Yeah, that figures." "Sometimes she lets me suck on her titties." I couldn't believe Arnie had just said what he just said. It seemed out of character. I thought about it for a moment. But actually, it was almost believable - a mommy's boy like Arnie, sucking his old lady's titties. Yeah, I could buy into that idea all right. The image of it floated across my mind like an internet porno clip. I had to laugh. But I had one hell of a boner on. In fact it was hurting me something rotten. "Hey, Arnie - come on, kid... Tell me you're joking, man. I mean -" "Course I am, Wossy. Do you think I'm some kind of big baby who likes sucking his mommy's titties?" "I'd better not answer that. Hey come on, Arnie. Get back into bed. We got a big day ahead of us tomorrow." "Today," Arnie corrected. I glanced at the illuminated clock on his bedside cabinet. It was three-thirty. He was right about "today". The next thing that happened took me by complete surprise. Arnie bent down over me and kissed me very lightly on the cheek. "Goodnight, Woss," he said and then climbed back into bed. I was so dumfounded I couldn't speak. For a moment I seemed to be consumed with an unspeakable passion and affection for my little cousin. I was also completely stricken with confusion. I lay there for a moment, gathering my thoughts, trying to make sense of it all. It wasn't cold, but for some reason I actually began to shiver. I listened to Arnie settling down under the covers. And then I heard my own voice mimicking his whiny drawl: "Hey, Arnie... I'm frightened of the dark... Can I get in with you, fella? There's room for two of us in that bed. You wouldn't mind, would you? How about it?" He didn't answer. All there was was a soft, relaxed, deep breathing sound, almost like purring. Arnie had hit dreamland already. As I took my dick in hand and attempted to relieve the tension, I wondered whether he would dream about me as I had about him. I imagined snuggling up to Arnie, wrapping my arms around him. I began to fantasise... He's in my lap. We're lying like spoons. I unbutton his pyjama top and put my hand against his chest. I begin stroking his warm body, his chest, his arms, and his tummy. He snuggles into me, pushing his ass into my crotch. I wonder if he can feel my hard-on. My hand brushes against his nipple. It feels taught and hard, like an air gun pellet. So does the other one. I give them both a little nip and he squirms into the fold of my body. He moves in my lap. I feel for the draw-string of his pyjama bottoms and pull it loose. My dick is hard against the crease of his little ass, snug and warm. I loosen the cord and pull the pyjama bottoms down. I feel for his little pecker. It is still soft. He doesn't murmur. I play with him and feel him respond. It feels like a fluttering bird in my hand, growing... growing... I move my other hand under his body and with this I cup the tight little scrotum around his balls. He turns his head to the side and I kiss him - like the first time Annabel Knight showed me the French way in the school yard the day I was thirteen. I force my tongue into his mouth and he reciprocates willingly. I pull my shorts down and rub my dick up and down the crease of his bare ass. I masturbate him until I feel his body shudder in orgasm. At the same time I shoot my load all over his smooth, milky-white bottom. I kiss and soothe him, whisper nice things in his ear. He feels like a big, warm baby in my arms... Now sleep comes easily within the damp, soiled sheets. There are no more dreams or fantasies tonight. Just sleep... That morning was a scorcher, clear blue sky, not a cloud. I'd decided to take Arnie out to Red Rock. I knew we would quite likely be on our own there. The place was pretty remote. Some days, if the weather was brooding, it was almost God-forsaken to be caught up there. In fact it could be quite spooky at the best of times. We were going to be okay today though. The forecast was good -- hottest day of the year the man on the radio had predicted. No real spooks today - only me and Arnie. I knew Richie and Bobby wouldn't be going to Red Rock today. They were off to a rodeo and I should have been going along with them. I had to forego my ticket for the show which had been bought a month previous. There was no way I could have got one for Arnie as well, even though I knew how much he would have enjoyed it. The show was a sell-out. Mom wouldn't let me go without Arnie anyway, so that was that. She drove us out to Red Rock in the pick-up and I said I'd call her on my cell-phone when we were ready to come home. I don't know what that kid had done to me but somehow he had cajoled me into playing one of his stupid cowboy games and yeah - I was the bad guy. Actually it wasn't as bad as I had expected. I sort of adapted the game to a kind of hide-and-seek scenario which was quite fun -- at least, for me. When it came to Arnie's turn to hunt me down and flush me out, I wasn't short of places to hide, knowing the terrain pretty well; whereas, Arnie, being a total stranger, was at a distinct disadvantage. I did feel a bit sorry for him after about half-an-hour of him trying to find me. He didn't have a hope, no matter how near he got. I was snuck down in one of the many caves that abound the area. It was great to be able to lie down in the cool air out of the sweltering heat, and it was easy to switch from cave to cave without being seen, anytime I heard him getting close. I could hear his voice calling for me and it was becoming ever more mournful as his hopes of finding me gradually faded. I can be a bastard sometimes... But it did give me some space from Arnie's constant nagging about that damned silver gun he'd seen in the toy store, and that was a real plus. He just wouldn't let it drop. When I'd judged he'd had just about enough of looking for me -- he'd started to sound really whiny, almost tearful - I decided to give myself up. Actually, it wasn't a moment to soon, because, even with his glasses on, I could tell he was about to lose it. I put my arm around him, but he was in a sulk and pulled away from me. "I was g-getting f-frightened, -Woss... I thought you'd left me up here on my own." "No way, Kid. I wouldn't do that." A fat tear rolled down his cheek and he took off his glasses. "Aw, come on Arnie. Don't be upset. I didn't mean you to get scared." This time he let me put my arm around him. He rubbed at his eyes with his fist. "Hey, Arnie... listen! How about if I give you the chance to get your own back?" "What do you m-mean, Wossy?" "Well, them nasty cowboys did some pretty mean things to the Indians back in those good old, bad old days in the wild, Wild West..." "I know. They were howwid to them. I've wead some of those stories." "Yeah, that's right, Arnie. They were real bad to them Indians, stealing their land and their horses and stuff. Why, those bastards even used to torture them redskins just for the hell of it." "Torture? Hey, that's weally mean, isn't it Woss." As Arnie said this, I could see that something had switched on inside him. He even stopped his snivelling and smiled a bit. "What kind of things did the cowboys do to the Indians, Woss?" I had his interest for sure. It was like a light bulb had come on in his head. His eyes sparkled with a strange kind of... of... lust... Yeah, that was it -- pure lust! I can't describe it any other way. I tell you... it kind of freaked me for a second. "They did some real mean things to them Indians. You wouldn't want to hear about it, Arnie -- believe me." "Yes I do, Wossy. I want to know what they did. You have to tell me." "You're going to have to use you imagination, Kid. But, I'll tell you what..." And here I gave him a little hug. "Why don't you use them handcuffs of yours on me? I'll play one of them Indian guys and you can be the bad cowboy doing all the nasty shit." "You mean... Like I get to do the torturing stuff..?" "You're quick, Kid. I'll say that for you." "But what would I do, Wossy? I mean, I wouldn't know what to do." "Well come on over here, Arnie. I'll see if I can give you a few pointers." I led him away from my little hideaway and across the scrubland to where a clump of small trees were growing. We sat down in the shade of one. "You see, first things first, Arnie." He put his glasses back on and looked at me all agog. His eyes looked all big and googly through the lenses. "Hey Kid! Just do me one small favour, won't you..?" "Huh?" "Just keep them re-entry goggles off while I talk to you. They kind of put me off, you know? What I'm going to suggest to you is kinda serious, and I can't be serious with you looking at me outta those things." Arnie took them off again. His incredible blue eyes made my heart do that little flip again. Not only that, my dick gave quite a twitch too, as if something was calling it awake. "That's better, Kid. Now, as I said - first things first. You see, you gotta have a motivation -- some good reason for torturing me." "A reason?" "Sure. I know some of them real cowboys didn't need a reason to hurt them Indians... Hell, they just did it for fun. But they wanted to take whatever the Indians had and drive them out. But you see it's much better if you can have a reason." "Like what, Wossy?" "Well... Well, say it's like I got some information that you want..." "Information... Like what Wossy?" "It doesn't matter, Arnie. You don't have to complicate it. Just use your imagination." "Well, okay..." "Like, it could be you believe I've stashed away some goodies somewhere... Buried some treasure, money or something... Anything... You name it, Kid." As soon as I said the word "anything", I somehow knew I was headed for trouble. "I get it, Wossy. I have to get something fwom you." "Yeah, you've got it, Kid. Like it could be information about something, or getting me to agree to something..." "Maybe... Like making you buy that silver gun for me, Woss? There you go. Good old Ross Cunningham had fallen for it again. Well, I'd made my bed, now I had to lie in it." "Yeah, yeah, okay, Kid. Guess I asked for that." Arnie chuckled. I could see little mischievous flickers of flame leap up in his pupils. "Okay, here it is. I'll lay it out for you, Arnie, man. Here's the deal... I'll give you an hour to do this and then I'm going to call Mom to get us out of here, only it's getting real hot. You can tie me up and torture me and try to get me to give in to this crazy gun deal of yours. If you can force me to submit, I have to buy that silver six-shooter for you. How's that sound, buddy?" "Okay. And I can do what I want to you?" "Sure, but nothing worse than pinching, tickling, that sort of thing. No nasty shit. Just kid's stuff, understand me? Nothing bad, okay? Just use your imagination. So long as you don't cut my dick off." Arnie actually laughed at my joke. It was a good sign; I could see he was loosening up, getting into the spirit of things. He was coming along quite nicely -- and that was a fact. "Hey Arnie, listen... Just one more thing. Before we get started, I want to ask you something..." "What's that, Wossy?" You ever play with yourself, Kid? Like, at night, when you're in bed?" Arnie sighted along the barrel of his toy six-shooter at some imaginary point in the distance. I hadn't seemed to register with him. It was like he hadn't understood what I was on about at all, or perhaps hadn't even heard me. "Arnie, you hear what I said?" "Sure, I heard you. Something about `playing with myself.'" Arnie loosed off a couple of shots at some imaginary target in the distance, making the appropriate noises to go with it. Then he blew imaginary smoke away from the barrel. "Yeah...you know... Play with yourself... Beat off..? Maybe you do it with the guys from school sometimes, like -- your buddies?" "I don't have any buddies." "Yeah, that figures... But surely you fool around from time to time?" Arnie put the gun back in its holster. "Fool awound with what?" "Jesus Christ, Arnie... Your pecker, your dick, your cock... For God's sake! Where've you been?" I shook my head in disbelief. "Hey, come on, take a look at this. I want to show you something." I unzipped my jeans and got my cock out to show him. "Here Kid, take a look at this beauty." I was already semi-erect. "What do you think of that, good buddy? He appeared unimpressed and I suddenly felt kind of silly with my cock hanging out. But I was determined to take this to the next level. "We gonna play some more, Woss?" "Yes, darn it! I already told you. You're going to tie me up and give me some shit. But just for now I'm going to show you how to beat the meat." "What are you talking about, Wossy?" "You know, Arnie - I can't believe you've never done it before." "I want to do some torturing." "Okay, okay, okay... you will... But this'll only take a minute, and it's an important part of your education." "What do I have to do, Woss?" "Okay Arnie... Just get it out... Let's see what you have in there. We're going to do what the big guys do when they hang out." Arnie looked a bit sheepish, but after a short pause he started loosening his belt. He took his tasselled cowboy pants down, quickly followed by his underpants. Then he lifted his red chequered shirt and exposed his cute little pecker, no more than two inches in length. There was no sign of an erection, but my heart quickened. "Hmm, there you go. As you can see, little fella -- you've got some way to go to catch up with me. Now here's what you do to make it longer and bigger." I began to stroke my dick slowly, pulling on the foreskin and drawing it out to its full length. Then I pulled more vigorously, watching Arnie's curious expression as he watched me. "Come on, Arnie. You try it. Just do the same as me. You'll enjoy it. It's what the big guys do." He continued to watch me for a moment, then uncertainly moved his hand down towards his penis and began too finger it. At first he just fooled around, squeezing and pulling the foreskin. "Not like that, Arnie. Watch me... You get hold of it like this and rub it up and down." He began to copy me and I could see his dick responding. "Yeah, that's better, little fella. Long strokes. You see how it's getting bigger?" He continued to do this for about one minute before he seemed to lose interest and his dick softened in his hand. "I'm bored, Wossy." He looked around for something else to do. Finally he took the gun from his holster again and pointed it at me. "Bang, bang! You're dead!" I was put completely off my stroke and I lost the moment. I tucked myself in and let rip at Arnie. "For Christ's sake, Arnie, can't you just do one thing right..? I mean... CAN'T YOU EVEN GET ONE LITTLE THING RIGHT IN YOUR GODDAMN LIFE?" "Don't shout at me, Wossy. It's not nice." He spun round and fired off another shot into the distance. "ARNIE! What the fuck are you playing at? I'm trying to teach you something important here, and all you do is fuck around." "You gonna buy me that silver gun, or not, Woss?" This was the moment I lost it with Arnie. I flew at him and sent his stupid gun spinning from his hand. I wrestled him to the ground and then pinned him down. "Now listen to me, you dumb fuck. I'm going to make you do it whether you like it or not - even if I have to do it for you..!" Arnie kicked like mad, but I easily overcame his feeble resistance. I managed to trap his legs with my own and hold both his arms behind him with just one of my own -- the left. With my right I proceeded to masturbate him in earnest while he continued his struggle. His little dick felt funny in my hand. Funny, but kind of nice too. There was a soft innocence about it and I felt a tinge of guilt. But the devil in me was the stronger element. It got me rock hard feeling him wriggle and writhe against me. His face reddened as I persisted and made his dick stand proud and stiff. I could feel the anger in him, but it only spurred me on and gradually his struggling became less and less as he found the sensation of my hand rubbing his dick become more and more pleasurable. In another thirty seconds I felt his legs stiffen and his back arch and I knew that I had got him past the point of no return. He was about to come -- maybe for the first and only time in his life. "Come on, Arnie. Give it up for me... Yeah, there you go, that's it, fella... Good boy, you can to it... Come on, now, ooh...here we go now, Yeees... Woo, woo, woo..!" I could almost feel the ecstasy shudder through him at that moment. I held onto his dick to make sure he was well and truly done and then I let him go. Arnie had been initiated into the adult world of real men. He was one of the big guys now. I let him out of my arms and he sprawled on the ground, panting like a beaten dog. He began snivelling again. "I hate you, Wossy. I hate you for doing that to me." "You don't fool me, Arnie. I know you just had your first orgasm and I bet it was just great." "But you made me feel dirty and guilty. You took advantage of me" "Well, I'm going to give you a chance to get your own back now, Kid." I leaned down and put my hand on his shoulder and patted him. "Come on, Arnie... now it's your turn to call the shots. Fetch the rope and handcuffs." "I feel all shaky. I can't get up." "That's only natural when you've just `cum'. It'll pass. If you keep at it, you'll soon be making the white stuff and be able to shoot off just like your good old cousin. Now come on, up you get fella... We've got one last game to play before we go home." I helped him to his feet and he was a bit unsteady. I put my arm around his shoulders and we walked over to where we'd left the rope earlier in the day. "So, tell me Arnie... What was it like?" "You mean, just now..? "Yeah. I mean can you describe it to me..? What you felt, the sensation, that kind of thing." "Well, it was kinda nice... At first I was frightened, and angry. Then after a while it was better -- kind of exciting. It was like I was melting inside at the end, like my tummy was going to spill on the ground. I've never had feelings like that before." "Sounds like you did just fine, Kid. You'll get to like it more and more the more you do it. Keep at it and your little dick will grow some too." "I guess." We collected the rope and looked for a suitable tree -- that is, one that was suitable for tying me to and hopefully provide some welcome shade at the same time. The sun was still high in a clear blue sky and the heat was merciless. The sweat was dripping from me. The man on the radio that morning hadn't been kidding. This is how it went... Arnie got me to stand up against the selected tree, a smallish one with a fairly slender trunk. He then had me reach behind myself and around the trunk of the tree so that he could snap his plastic handcuffs around my wrists - not brilliantly strong, but adequate for the task. I wouldn't easily break free of them without breaking the skin of my wrists. This arrangement allowed just enough slack for me to slide up and down the smooth bark so that Arnie could have me standing or sitting as he required. The rope wasn't needed in the end. I was impressed with the way he went about his work. He seemed to come into his own and had a quiet authority and efficiency that surprised me. Suddenly, he wasn't the naïve dork that I'd met off the Greyhound 48 hours earlier. If I was honest, I had to confess to feeling slightly apprehensive about the whole thing. I could tell he was a bit too enthusiastic about what he was doing for my liking. I didn't like the way he seemed to be ignoring my attempts at friendly banter and jokiness. He had a look of purpose about him, seriousness, yet at the same time I could almost feel the delight coursing through his veins. My God, it was hot and with the sun moving across the vast sky, I hoped my calculations of positioning and choice of tree would prove correct, because if this went on longer than I'd planned, and the shady area started disappearing, I was going to fry man - that was a goddam certainty! "Okay Arnie, you've got half-an-hour to get me to talk or whatever it is your going to do and then we're going to get the hell out of here." "I thought you said I had an hour, Woss." "Yeah? Well, seeing how quick that sun's coming round, I reckon if we kept this up for an hour, then I'm gonna be Kentucky fried." "Then you were lying to me, Woss. That means you're reneging on our deal." "Hey, Arnie, you can see my point here, can't you?" "Maybe, but a deal is a deal." Arnie seemed quite determined that he was going to get his pound of flesh. Of course, I could always give in to his demands sooner than I'd planned if things got too unbearable. "I know we made a deal, but you gotta be reasonable. So how about it, Kid? Set your watch for 30 minutes and then I'll call Mom." "No way, Woss. I'm sticking to my part of the bargain even if you're not. Anyway, you're in no position to determine new conditions." "What're you talking about?" "It's quite simple, Woss... I've got you where I want you and I intend to get you to see things my way." "Oh yeah, you mean the gun, right? Oh, hell, Arnie. I was going to get you that anyway. I was just fooling around." "Oh yes, Woss, I know you'll get me that gun. I'm going to make sure of that. But I also want to have us a little fun first." "Well, you'd better get on with it Arnie. We don't have much time." Arnie smiled and kicked some sand which landed on my trainers. "Like I said, Woss. You can't tell me what to do now." He looked up into the sky, then back at me again. "I'm in no hurry. Why don't you sit down and rest your legs. I've got to go and get something." Before I could say anything, Arnie had turned and was walking away." "Hey Arnie, where you going fella? You wouldn't leave me out here, would ya?" My voice seemed to swirl around me without really going anywhere. Arnie had disappeared from sight. I estimated about ten minutes to pass, although it's difficult using only the sun as reference. What was the sonofabitch up to? Where had he gone, and what had he gone to get? The sun seemed to be moving round much quicker than I had anticipated. In fact the shadow of the tree I was tied to was barely a meter from my feet already. I began breaking out into a sweat. I felt light-headed for a second. Where the hell was that crazy kid? I began to regret talking myself into this ridiculous charade. "Cunningham," I said to myself, "you are the world's biggest idiot. In fact, you ought to be fucking sectioned..." And then, suddenly, there he was. Just like that, seemingly out of nowhere, like he'd just dropped out of the sky or something. Didn't I tell you it was spooky up at Red Rock? "Where the fuck you been cowboy? I been roasting to death while you been gone. What were you doing, for Christ's sake?" Arnie looked at me all kind of arrogant and cocksure. He smiled thinly. He was carrying something under his arm which was wrapped in a sun-faded piece of cloth. "I've brought you something, Ross." The sound of an "R" coming from Arnie's lips after all this time was like a... like a... I should have been saying, like a breath of fresh air, but at the moment the mood felt far more sinister. "Hey, Kid... What did you just say?" "Huh?" "I mean, what did you just call me?" "Ross." "Yeah, exactly. So what happened? Why now?" "You're not making any sense. What are you talking about?" "Forget it kid... Just get these cuffs off me. I'm pooped. You can have that gun soon as we get back. I don't think it's a good idea we stay out here any longer." "So now you don't want to play our game, is that it?" "Hey, Arnie... What is it with you? You just had an out-of-body experience or something? You just meet up with some little green men out there? I'm fucking dying here, man, and you're talking about carrying on with this stupid game!" "That's a fact." "Anyway, what's that you have there?" "Oh this?" Arnie laid the bundle down on the ground and unwrapped the cloth." "What the hell is it?" "Well, what the hell does it look like, Ross? You got eyes, don't yer?" "Yeah, well I can see it's a bunch of nettles... But I mean, what's it for? You gonna fucking sting me death as well as fry me. Hey come on, Arnie, you've had your fun. We ought to be heading back." "You worried you might be late for tea, or something Ross?" "It ain't that, you dumb fuck! I'm fucking roasting here, Kid. How about it? Look, if you ain't gonna untie me just yet, at least loosen the buttons on my shirt, woncha? I can hardly breathe." Arnie was shuffling the nettles around on the cloth, getting them to separate into some sort of order. "Maybe," he said. "What the hell you mean, maybe?" "What I mean is... Maybe I will... Then again, maybe I won't." I felt myself losing it, not panic exactly, just sheer exasperation at this crazy show Arnie was putting on. What the hell had happened to him out there? Had some green goons really abducted him and re-aligned his logic chips? Having satisfied himself everything was okay with the nettles, Arnie got to his feet and faced me. "So you're a little warm, huh?" "You might say that, Kid." Then I'd better get that shirt off your back." "Just loosen a couple of buttons'll be a start, Kid. And you might think to let me have a swig of that mineral water in our backpack." Arnie didn't answer, but proceeded to undo the buttons to my shirt, popping them one by one. He got about halfway and I said: "Okay, Arnie. That's better! You can stop at that, Kid." But he ignored me and continued all the way down. He opened my shirt out and lifted it away from my shoulders and pulled it off. He ran his hands over my chest and across my nipples. They felt deliciously cool against my skin. "Aw, come on, fella. You got to leave me some protection against the sun." "You're in the shade, just like you wanted." "Yeah, but I ain't gonna be much longer. Don't you get it? I mean the edge of that shadow's almost up to my feet." I struggled against the tree for a moment and pulled on the plastic handcuffs. But they held firm. They were surprisingly effective. I estimated that if push came to shove I could maybe bust out of them suffering no worse injury than a few minor abrasions. But I'd rather avoid it. He allowed his hands to slip down my torso and for a moment it felt like he was going to pinch me. Or maybe I imagined it. He chuckled in a kind of mocking way. I was beginning to feel frustrated with his attitude. I just didn't seem to be getting through to him. "I'm going to get your pants off and then I want you to sit down for me, Ross." "You are joking, Kid. You know, this just gets weirder and weirder." Arnie began unbuckling my belt. "You know you shouldn't have done what you did to me today, Ross." "What are you talking about, Arnie? And what the hell do you think you're playing at, fiddling with my pants.?" Arnie had now popped the top button of my levis and pulled the zipper down. "Oh, so now you don't remember tossing me off, huh?" It kind of made me start, Arnie using the term `toss off'. It kind of brought it home just what I'd done to him. He began pulling my jeans down. "That..? Jesus Christ, Arnie... I was giving you an education for free, man." "Uh-uh..! You were interfering with me. You held me down and did bad things to me, Ross." He'd got my jeans right down and was now yanking them from my legs. "Aw, come on, Arnie. What I did isn't so terrible. Well hey, didn't you tell me that you had one helluva nice feeling?" "I ought to tell your momma about you, Ross. I think there's something she needs to know." He thought for a moment. "You know what..? Maybe I ought to inform the authorities about you too." "You're talking shit, Arnie" "I told you to sit down, Ross." "Fuck you, Arnie. I ain't doing shit for you. Now take these goddam cuffs of me." "Temper, temper. This just won't do Ross. Now, I won't tell you again -- now sit down... please." Somehow the strength and fight had drained out of me and I allowed myself to slip down the smooth tree trunk. I was exhausted, mentally as well as physically. I really needed that drink. "That's better, now we can have some fun." Arnie got down on his haunches and started stroking the inside of my right thigh, very lightly, kind of tickling. "Well now, Rossy. I wonder how much of this you can stand before you give in?" "There's n-no need, Arnie. I already told you I'm gonna give you want you want." "Won't make any difference, Ross. I'm gonna make you squirm for what you did to me today." For once I couldn't think of anything to say. "When I was a baby I remember Momma tickling me. I wanted her to stop, but it was before I knew how to talk, and she just kept on and on, laughing as she tickled my feet and legs then under my arms, and into my ribs until I was sick." I looked at Arnie, he had taken his glasses off and was wiping a tear away." "All kids get tickled by their mother, Arnie. That don't mean nothing." "She wouldn't stop, Ross." He was running his fingers up my thigh, ever so lightly now. I watched his hand disappear inside the leg of my boxers. My leg jerked away involuntarily as he touched a sensitive spot. He then attacked the same spot and I tried to drag my leg away, but Arnie squatted on my lower leg until his weight had pinned it down. "She wouldn't stop until she'd made me sick, Ross. I remember crying and crying, trying to get her to understand that I didn't like it. But she wouldn't listen. She wouldn't listen, Ross. I screamed and cried but she kept on doing it." "Okay, Arnie -- that's enough. Just hold it right there. And I don't want to hear anymore about your mother and her stupid tickling, okay? And take your fucking hand out of my shorts. We gotta get out of here." "Oh no, we don't, Ross. I've only just started on you." And then Arnie did something that really fazed me -- even for him this was crazy. He moved his hand up to my cock and started feeling it, quite blatantly. He looked at me and I could see in his watery eyes a kind of sadism behind the sadness. I felt that thing again for him, that little flippety-flip which my heartbeat did. My God, he was beautiful! It was as if I was being swept away. Arnie still had his spectacles in his hand and he was sort of jiggling them, angling them so the sunlight came through onto the sand. He seemed fascinated by the concentration of light coming through the lenses. He moved it around, moving them this way and that, experimenting with intensity and concentration of light. Now and again he would cause a few grains of sand to crack and pop. I could hear a kind of fizzing sound near my feet. Then he directed the beam on a stray blade of grass. In less than three seconds a puff of smoke rose, twisted, and went away in the breeze. There was a faint burn in the air. "You see that, Ross?" "Yeah, saw it, what? You tryin' a prove... a point? "See what happens, Ross? You get the sun coming through the glass and... you see that..? "You got the fire, bro.. Hey, I gotta pee. You call home ye..? "I don't know what's happened to you, Rossy. You're just talking crap." He was right, I was talking crap. I kind of knew what I wanted to say, but the words just wouldn't come out right . I could see he was doing these things, but I felt a kind of helplessness, abandonment. Like the strength had been sucked out of me. The weirdest thing of all... it was like I was looking down as an outsider watching all this crap going on. I could see myself slumped at the foot of the tree, and Arnie crouched at my feet. He could have let me off the hook right there and then and it wouldn't have made the slightest fucking difference. I wouldn't have been able to move a step. I would still be totally incapacitated, I'm absolutely certain of it I could hear him talking - funny that his voice sounded so different, kind of mature, like it wasn't really Arnie, but some other dude. I could not do a damned thing about it. It was like being on the edge of a dream where you can see yourself in the action and you know what way you would like it to go, but you're unable to affect the outcome. I could hear my voice and yet, it was like I was hearing somebody else say the things that I was supposed to be saying. I was now in a kind of surreal daydream, a stupor. Until something woke me from it... A sudden lancing pain shot through my big toe but I couldn't react to it. It was as if all my reactions had been slowed down. I felt kind of paralysed. It's like when you are in a half-sleep state in bed. You are kind of aware of being asleep, yet you can feel this cramp taking hold, creeping up your calf, your thigh and... and yet you can't wake from the dream and you know that the pain is going to be excruciatingly painful, unbearable, yet you still cannot wake from it. Which is kind of crazy, because sometimes the slightest thing can shake you awake from the deepest sleep, so why not when your calf muscles are turning themselves into fucking golf balls? How do you explain such things? And my speech, what the fuck had happened there? I knew I was talking kind of gibberish, yet I had no control over it. I could hear the crap coming out of my mouth and I knew what it was meant to sound like, but it just kept coming out garbled. Oh, fuck this, Arnie. Just get me out of here. You see, I could think that line, but no way could I say it. "You see now, Rossy... I can burn your skin using just the sun's rays and my glasses. Isn't science fantastically interesting?" "F-fucking, it's b-brill... er, Arnie you are.. Agghh! Ouch, wh-what the fu..? "Easy, boy. Or you gonna bust a gut before sundown." "Arnie, wha-wha... uugghhhnnfff..." My little cousin was now working his way up my legs. He was kind of slithering like a snake. The brim of his hat tickled my belly. I couldn't see shit now. The sweat from my forehead was stinging my eyes and every time I blinked, it only became worse. The next thing I knew there was a searing pain in my belly-button so I guess Arnie was busy cooking that too. I thought I heard a scream. Then I felt him writhing on my body again until his pelvis was level with mine. With Arnie being that much shorter than me, the brim of his white hat tickled my chin. My eyes were stinging like crazy. I wanted to tell Arnie to wipe them but I couldn't get the words out. My mouth was as dry as hell. It wouldn't work. The really strange thing was - I was perfectly aware that I had one hell of a boner and I guess it would've looked like the Big Top pushing out against my shorts if only Arnie hadn't been pressing into me. I was dimly aware of a light tickling around my right nipple, maybe Arnie's fingers. That meant only one thing -- that fuckwit was going to roast my tit next. It wasn't long in coming. A warmth that at first tickled then quickly seared... "Ugghhnnfff! Ffffff!" I felt my body jerk and the cuffs cut into my wrists. Arnie slithered on top of me and the pleasure of his movement counter-acted the burn. "You feelin' the heat, Rossy-boy? You getting it yet?" Yes, I'm getting it, you fuckwit. "You like me hurting you, Rossy boy? That what you get off on, huh?" If you say so, Arnie. He gave my other nipple the same treatment. My body jerked again, and then sort of adjusted to the pain. There was a faint smell of scorched flesh in the air. Then it stopped. I saw a blurred white cowboy hat arc across my line of sight - what was left of it. Arnie wriggled against my cock. I could feel his stiffness too. And then I felt a soft wetness on my lips, a warm, slimy worm pushing past my lips and into my mouth. I sucked on it greedily hoping to extract some moisture and relieve the dryness in my mouth. Then just as quickly, my little `refresher' ended and I felt Arnie's weight lift away. I could hear a faint rustling somewhere. I tried to lift my head off my chest and focus. I could see some movement. Boy, could I do with some more of that wet stuff I'd had just now? You bet I could. Gimmee, gimmee, Arnie, you sadistic bastard! I could feel Arnie's hands forcing their way into the waistband of my shorts and tugging at them. He succeeded in sliding them down to my knees and left it at that. Then I heard a rustle of something, followed by what I can only describe as an insane giggle. Seconds later there was a maddening tickling on the sole of my right foot. I tried to kick out, but Arnie held my leg firm. The tickling under my foot seemed to me accompanied by another sensation that was slightly behind the first. Something I couldn't quite define... a kind of itching... no, not exactly an itching... more of an irritation, a mild burning or stinging. Jesus, the nettles! Now Arnie was about to add to his repertoire of torture. He was damned well going to finish me off. "Speak to me, Rossy. How's you're little cousin doing, fella?" I could hear his voice plainly, but mine, when I tried to answer just seemed to get caught in my throat. I was aware of the tickling and stinging advancing up my calf -- up, and up over my pulled-down shorts. The insides of my thighs were next to get the `Arnie' treatment. I had no willpower, no real desire to shout out or reason with my tormentor. The tickling continued on the insides of my thighs, the nettles criss-crossing between right and left. They felt wonderfully warm and tingly and I just knew I was sporting one hell of a boner. I heard Arnie's voice again, somewhere in the clouds. His head was a black silhouette, eclipsing the sun. I couldn't make out his features, apart from what appeared to be a pair of horn-like things protruding from the top of his head. "You got something you wanna tell me, Rossy? Am I getting' through to you, cowboy?" Fuck you, Arnie! "Cat got your tongue, cowboy?" Go screw yourself, you evil little fucker! And then the mad tickling began, on the end of my knob, the sting, the burn, the caress. He stroked the nettles lightly up and down my shaft. It was wonderful, hot and prickly "I know you love me, Ross. So why won't you say it?" Maybe it's because you're fucking killing me, you numbskull. "Say it and I'll stop." "I-I..." love you, Arnie, you dumb fuck. Now let's cut out of here. You have to let me go you crazy bastard... But of course these words, apart from the stutter at the start, never made it beyond my brain. "Okay, so you won't admit it. I'm going to have to try something else." And then the tickling stopped. I felt a cool hand on my cock. It was almost like ice against the tingling and burning. Arnie began rubbing me, occasionally drawing my cock out to its full length. This wasn't the hand of a young kid, this was the hand of experience, the devil's hand. But how wonderful it was. "You see, Ross, I'm going to exact revenge. You did it to me and now I'm doing it to you. Let's see how you like it!" Big fucking deal! And yet a massive part of me actually did like what was being done to me, and even the way it was being done. Why not? The hands were smooth and soft, manipulative and very persuasive. I was feeling quite good as Arnie stepped up the pace. Oh, Jesus, Arnie. Please forgive him his sins, dear Lord, for he knows not what he does... "Maybe I can make you have an orgasm too, Rossy? What do you think?" That's a damned certainty, Kid, you carry on like that. And you're going to have a hell of a mess on your hands... "Come on, Rossy, give it up for Arnie. Let's see what you got in the locker." My breathing was becoming more laboured with the mounting excitement. I felt like I was sucking dust. How I wished for Arnie's wet tongue. Then I felt the tension in my body as the moment approached. Somehow Arnie had got me there. By hook or crook, he had got me there. And I was ready to spill the beans. But Arnie had other ideas... He had me ready for the money shot, when he cleverly pinched the flesh together underneath my prostate. I felt ready to gush, but somehow he had blocked it. A dry ache drifted up into my body. Arnie waited, with the thumb and forefinger squeezing behind my scrotum, blocking the escape route of rampaging sperms. I felt the tension rise and then quickly subside in my body as Arnie controlled my orgasm's destiny. There was none. He allowed me to calm down while he gently sucked on my pellet-like nipples. Now and again he would nip me with his large gawky teeth, and then I would allow the pain to seep into me, embrace me. Then he started on me again, his hands doing the devils work, expertly, dexterously, leading me, teasing me, bringing me on, taking me up, letting me down. Arnie, you are an evil little bastard! "I could easily make you cum, Ross. But I much prefer to watch you squirm. It makes my little dick so much bigger. And that's got to be a good thing, hasn't it, my sweet, sweet cousin?" Just finish me off, Arnie, for God's sake. I'm dying... I was dimly aware that my shorts had started to move again. They were on the slide, past my ankles and off. Now and again I felt the dig and cut of the plastic handcuffs as they mercilessly bit into my wrists every time I shifted my weight. But even this had become a pleasurable feeling in its own strange way, vaguely erotic, the hurt, the humiliation, the helplessness, the sadism, the masochism, it was all firing me with such bridled lust. Arnie shuffled in closer to my crotch, his knees cleverly pushing and trapping my outstretched legs into a `V'. Then he once again began stroking my cock, only he kept inching his face ever closer to it. At one time I swear he was blowing on it, though only in the normal sense. It felt as if he was trying to soothe the burning and stinging. I was aware of my cock more than any other part of my body. It was as if all the sensations and feelings of the rest of my body parts had migrated to good old Moby. It felt super-sensitised, like the nettle treatment had stimulated the blood in even the tiniest, remotest vein. It was red hot, aching with lust. And then that crazy kid stepped it up another level. First he kissed the tip, gentle as a butterfly. I felt ready to burst. But somehow Arnie seemed to be able to keep me on the verge of something, the very edge of coming. His hands moved with uncanny dexterity, up and down my shaft, teasing, tormenting, torturing. There was a terrifying hot ache in my crotch and abdomen. In my mind's eye I could see Arnie grasping me like he was holding an ice lolly or ice cream cone, licking and slurping. And then, I swear he was blowing me for real, a warm wetness that seemed to run like melting honey up and down, up and down. I couldn't lift my head to see. I had no strength, no willpower. And once again I felt myself approaching the finishing line. I was exhausted, but there were people waiting either side of the line this time with their hands outstretched, shouting, yelling, "Come on, Ross, you can do it. Don't give up now, you're nearly there, buddy!" It was kind of like that dream you have when you're trying to run from something you know is terrible and your legs just won't work. It felt like I was in quicksand, or up to my waist in water. Everything was in slow-mo. Those hands were reaching out for me, they were so near, yet so far. I just couldn't get there, couldn't quite make it. The sensations around my penis had suddenly disappeared and I heard Arnie's voice reach me from a short distance away: "I think you'd better come up right away, Auntie. Please be as quick as you can. Ross's in a whole loada trouble." And then my mother's voice, clear and frantic as a shrieking bird: "Oh, Arnie, what on earth is the matter? What's happened? Is Ross all ri—?" And then a jaunty three or four notes from the cell-phone as Arnie cut her off. I'll fucking kill you, Arnie... What the fuck did you do that for..? And then he was right on top of me again and I knew this was it. He was blowing me for real, and with the skill and softness of a Bangkok whore, not that I could've really known what that would have been like. But anyhow, it was just beautiful man. It was like I was sinking into a bed of the softest feathers. Those hands had started reaching for me again. On the finish line, among the crowd of well-wishers, I could see Mom, Richie, Bobby, and would you believe it -- Arnie too, sucking on a Milky Bar. It's full length was going in and out of his mouth, wet and slimy before it disappeared inside, and then out again, arcing threads of shining saliva in the sun. And then just as I was almost touching the hands of everyone and my groin about to burst I heard the sound of a frantically revving V8, the sound of locked wheels spraying shingle rock and dust and a slamming door. Somebody was running up to us, faster than I could get to the line. I could almost touch them now. A voice, my mother's voice, yelling frantically at the finish line. Or was it behind me? Then that sensation as thousands of hands clasped me, that sensation of capitulation and projectile thrust, like the exhaust from a jet engine, except the smell wasn't kerosene. It was that strange, faint smell of ammonia that I'd been experiencing lately. I could still see Arnie, now eating the Milky Bar like his life depended on it, cheek bulging, his eyes large and hungry, like sky-blue marbles. The rush of something from my balls and the Milky Bar exploding in Arnie's face, leaving little pearl drops shimmering on his blond eyebrows. Then the soft leaking sensation of liquid gold melting from my guts. And Mom's voice shouting at me as she grabbed me on the finish line. Her voice fading, fading, fading... "Ross, Ross..!" Thousands of hands grabbing me, slapping my back. "Ross, Ross, come on... Wake up! Wake up..!" My mother's voice getting nearer, coming back to the present. Hands on my shoulders shaking me, shaking me awake, awake, awake..! "Come on Ross, wake up! Arnie has to get the early bus." Mom, smiling, Arnie just behind her, Goofy teeth hanging out to dry. "Had you forgotten?" My head felt as if a truck had ran over it. "Hi, Mom. Hi, Arnie. No I hadn't forgotten." "I was beginning to think you were never going to wake up. Now get a move-on, young man. You've less than half an hour before Arnie's bus leaves." I dug the sleep out of my eyes and looked at Arnie. He seemed different somehow, kind of more grown-up all of a sudden. Gone was the cowboy outfit. He looked quite normal, apart from his specs, he still had those on. He was wearing Levis, trainers and a white tee-shirt - one of the good guys. "What happened to you, Arnie?" "Huh?" "What's with the new look? You look great, man!" "Thanks." I got out of bed and scrambled around for some clothes. Started dressing. "So what happened to the cowboy get-up?" "Pardon, Ross?" "The cowboy out..." And then I froze for a moment. "What did you say just then, buddy?" "Pardon - meaning I don't know what you're talking about." "No, not that... Just now, what did you call me just now?" "Ross, you are acting kinda weird, you know that?" "There you go... You said it again..." "Huh?" "You called me Ross, Arnie... Ross with an `R', not Woss or Wossy, but Ross. You know, you were doing my head in with that one, Kid." "Man," said Arnie, that must have been one hell of a dream you had." A couple of things flitted back in my mind. "You could say that, fella... You could say that all right!" We walked at a fair pace to the bus station, sharing the load of Arnie's suitcase. He was different, more solid, stronger, one of the big guys already. I quite liked having him along with me if I was perfectly honest. We stopped outside the toy store. The silver six-shooter was still in the same place, resplendent and sparkling in the early morning sunlight slicing into the window. I put Arnie's case on the sidewalk and fished out my wallet and started to go inside. "Hey, Ross," said Arnie, "where you going, man? I'm going to miss that Greyhound." I stopped in the doorway, pointing to the gun. "I'm getting it for you, Arnie. I think you've earned it." "I thought I told you, Ross... That stuff's for kids!" I stood rooted to the spot, looking at him in amazement. "Tell you what, Kid. How'd you feel about me coming to stay with you during the fall vacation? I can't wait to see you with those new contacts. Maybe we can shoot the breeze - hang out together, go to the movies?" We made it by the skin of our teeth. I stood watching as Arnie took his seat on the Greyhound. He pretended to hold a cell-phone to his ear and mouthed "Call me". I gave him the thumbs up and turned away quickly as the bus pulled away. I didn't want Arnie to see what a cry-baby his big cousin had turned into. The ground reverberated beneath my feet and I sniffed the cloying odour of diesel fumes. I went into the station cafeteria, got a coke from the machine and sat down. I fingered the two items Arnie had given me just before he stepped up onto the bus -- a small package, and a plain white envelope. I opened the package first. It was slim, wrapped with fancy paper. At first I smiled when I saw what it was. And then my eyes misted up. A Milky Bar. Jesus, that kid knew just where to hit you. And then the envelope - a card from Arnie. When I opened it out, something fell on the table. I picked it up and stared at it. My hand began to shake. It was a dry-pressed nettle. My heart did that little flip again. I read the words that Arnie had written in the card... "Thank you for everything, Ross, I really had a great time. And thanks for being my playmate for the last two weeks. I'm glad you asked if you could come and stay in the fall. I'm really looking forward to it. Can't wait to get my new lenses, though. So hard lines to you, no more google-eye to laugh at. Hope this wild flower makes you think of me All the best! Your buddy, Arnie. (THE MILKY BAR KID)"