Date: Thu, 10 May 2018 11:39:07 -0500 From: MC VT Subject: The Battoir Chapter 3 The Battoir - Part 3 ©2017 MCVT August 17, 2017 mcvt2017@gmail.com *** Every Friday, I met Dad in the bathroom after Rod was in bed. I got used to his pushing his finger inside me and making me poop. Maybe he conditioned me to poop, either way, I had avoided the battoir for almost six months by cooperating, and it got easier every week. It felt good, but he wanted me to make some fluid come out my penis when I masturbated. He said I was getting big enough. His hands fondled my body as he held me against him and told me to relax and get ready and he kissed me on my neck and face. Being so close to him and smelling him only made me more excited and anxious, but I tried concentrating on making fluids, but I didn't really know how. "Tell me when you're almost ready to feel good, and I'll help." He whispered one night. His hand went to my scrotum and he gently tugged and massaged. "Close your eyes and let me know." I nodded, but I felt I really didn't have any control over it. I think Dad was getting tired of waiting - he did it different that night. Dad told me to think of a balloon ready to burst while he slipped his finger inside my ass to that good place. I closed my eyes and sighed. "Does that feel good?" He whispered. I nodded - smelling him made me want to cum in a hurry. "Now, feel yourself getting full, feel some pressure inside you and tonight you're going to make some fluid come out when you orgasm. This is what men do." I nodded, in a daze with the incredible sensations while he explained my where the little "balloons" were inside me, and they were full and tight - ready to explode all the way up and out my penis. Trying to hurry my orgasm made me breathe fast, my hips jerked and Dad rubbed the place inside me where it made me want to cum hard. My penis was so hard, I thought it would pop off my body. Dad knew how to make me want to cum hard! "Now." I whispered, almost breathless. He kept his finger rubbing me harder, but moved my hand and sucked my penis and scrotum into his mouth quickly. Both of them at once! Then he started licking and sucking! His tongue explored around my scrotum and ringed my glans several times. He sucked gently, then harder, grasping my scrotum between his teeth several times, and then pulling on my erection with his tongue. His head was sideways to my groin, and it felt like he was going to eat my privates off my body, but I couldn't stop him. I wasn't scared; I was stunned and couldn't move. His mouth felt much better than my hand. "Dad!" I grabbed a handful of his hair and pressed his head against me and it felt like something inside me burst as my knees jerked, and my hips hunched again and again. I felt him take his finger out of me, and he pressed me against him hard. "Like that?" He asked softly. "Yeah." I said, still breathless and almost dizzy. "Congratulations." He whispered. "I love you." I grinned. *** He sat me on the cabinet beside the sink and stood in front of me and quietly unzipped his jeans, then pulled them down. Then his boxers were around his ankles and the smell of an aroused, sweaty man oozing pheromones filled the space. I breathed in that drug deeply. He stood close in front of me and held his penis. "Touch me. Put your hand on my erection." Looking up at him, "I don't know..." "Show me you love me, son." His voice was soft, but serious. I watched his face while I put my fingers to his dark, pinkish-gray foreskin. "Push it back." He stroked his thick shaft. When I pushed the thin, delicate skin, his slippery pre-cum dripped. He swiped the tip of his index finger through the clear, slimy drips and he tasted it, then touched more of it on my lips. I licked the fluid; didn't taste much. He kept stroking along his erection and nodding at me until I understood I had to touch his glans. I rubbed the slippery liquid around and pressed over his slit with my palm. "Oh, god." He moaned. Pulling his foreskin completely back, I could see his angry, red glans dripping. His smell filled my entire body. Closing my eyes, I leaned my head against his belly and rubbed his glans until he started jerking and pressed my head against him hard. He started humming, real low and deep, then he was breathing faster - stroking faster. Finally he stood still and pressed my hand against his penis and his scrotum. He was so excited, and his hands were working fast, stroking, then he touched my penis and lifted it, pushing my foreskin back tightly. He leaned forward and touched his glans to mine and pushed his foreskin over his glans and mine and held it hard against my shaft. My glans was captured inside his foreskin, and it felt hot, slippery and strange. Dad was sweating and jerking - I watched his face, but his eyes were closed tightly, then he leaned his head back. Hot waves of his hot semen started oozing out the sides of his foreskin, and I felt some of the heat go inside my slit and drip down on my scrotum and inside my thighs. Just a little of his semen went inside me. Seeing that and smelling his semen made me curious, and I touched the whitish liquid and tasted it. I looked up at Dad, he was smiling - still trying to breathe and calm himself. Then I touched his lips with some of his semen and he kissed me on my forehead. "I love you." He whispered and stroked my face. "Oh, god I love you." His knees were a little weak, but he cleaned us up. Dad told me that was his semen, and it gave me his strength, and that my body was so beautiful and so perfect. "But you need my strength." I tasted his semen again - it smelled strong and tasted funny. "That's what you tasted like before you were born. Then, my sperm found your mother's egg and your body started growing." Then he kissed my lips lightly and told me to go to bed. *** We got the shed completed and went to pick up our little doe the next week. Rod, our creative genius, named her "Whitey." Guess what color she was? That goat seemed to love me and I felt like I knew what she was thinking. Maybe it was because we were about the same height - we made friends quick. She did not like riding in the back of the truck in the crate and yelled all the way home! She did not like coming to a new place with strangers, and staying in the shed all alone! That night, Whitey kept bleating even after dark - she wouldn't go to sleep. "Dad, can I go out and stay with Whitey tonight? She's lonely for her mom and all her herd." He found my sleeping bag and helped me make a little bed on some hay bales in our shed. I think he was irritated about her keeping him awake; she calmed down when I came to sleep in the shed with her. She wasn't gestating, and I read online about goats. "Dad, we need to wait and make sure she's old enough to breed first. I think we're supposed to breed her in the fall. That way she'll have the baby in the spring, and there'll be lots of sweet grass for her to make milk." *** Dad was glad to let me handle the goat, and listened to the advice I'd found online. We went to the goat websites and read a lot about food and diseases and different things. Everyday I staked her out so she could help mow the weeds and grasses. Goat eyes are odd - the irises of their eyes are squares, not circles. That was okay with me, but it scared Rod - he thought Whitey was "witchy." So, it was up to me to do most of the work with Whitey and our eventual herd. *** Dad had a plan in the works. He wanted a small loan to put in three acres of organic black raspberries - the kind that made me sick - the kind without thorns. Raspberries were always popular, and what we didn't sell to pickers, we could ship to the stores and sell at the market. Since we were organic, Dad could demand more for our crop. He had all the amounts of compost, and number of goats worked out for three acres of berries. All the shoveling and heavy work was lined-out to go downhill so we didn't have to haul much up the gentle slopes on our land. With shovels and a measuring tape, we set out the markers for the three compost piles between the goats and the berry patch. Each one was lower than the one before, and each one closer to the berry vines and the garden. Goat waste has to "cool off" before you can use it for fertilizer - every time we had to deal with the compost it was closer to where it needed to be. We would be able to sell goat milk to a local cooperative and sell berries. Clever plan! Nothing wasted. *** Took us a over month and a lot of sweat to set the heavy poles and stretch the wire for the berry vines, but neighbors stopped by to help when they saw us working. Even Mr. Grubb came to help. He worked hard, right alongside Dad setting posts. Mr. Grubb had huge muscles and he seemed almost twice as big as Dad. His shoulders were wide and his waist was tiny. I think he must go to a gym to lift weights - he looked like a muscle man you see in magazines. He was a few years older than Dad was, but tied his bandana on his head and swung his pick and tightened wires as well as Dad. I thought he was good looking even if he was bald - he did have a thick moustache and tattoos of different Asian words. Although he didn't say anything to Rod and me, he smiled at us and offered to lend Dad some equipment. One afternoon when he was helping us, he asked Dad to look at some equipment that wasn't working and have a beer, "shoot the breeze" for a while when we'd finished for the day. After dinner, Dad took us with him to visit Mr. Grubb. Rod and I got some cookies and went looking around inside Mr. Grubb's barn while he showed Dad his broken equipment. "Watch your brother." He whispered to me. "Keep him with you." Before we left, Dad struck a deal to cut and bale hay from Mr. Grubb's fields as well as fix the equipment after they ordered the new parts. Rod and I were falling asleep they talked so long. On the way home, Dad reminded us that we weren't allowed on Mr. Grubb's property without him. "He has my phone number, tell him to call me if he wants to talk." *** Mom was still working every night, but things were going okay, kind of sketchy sometimes, but okay. We ate a lot of soup and crackers - but we had plenty. Dad kept us busy and our farm was coming along - on Mom's paycheck and our produce sales at the market. I asked some of the older kids at school about a billy goat we could use to breed Whitey. One of them lived on a farm with a lot of goats. Making my own deal, I went over and cleaned out an old barn for the service. The name Bluefeather assured people I would do good work, and I did. I was so proud; I was starting our dairy herd! The kid from school who owned the billy gathered hair from the male goat every week or so, and wiped his glands with a rag and I brought the scents back to Whitey. This way I could "introduce" Whitey to her boyfriend before breeding. Every Friday night, Dad continued my treatments, but I didn't need any help pooping so we quit that. *** Nights, Dad and I showered together, and masturbated each other. We enjoyed that, and didn't need words very often - just lots of kisses. Dad let me touch wherever I wanted, anyway I wanted. He stroked and fingered me until I thought I would die it felt so good. It was like heaven to be standing in the steam feeling his big hands on me, then to explore between his legs with his erection in my mouth. About that same time started kissing me on the lips with his tongue in my mouth. It was uncomfortable at first; I started liking it. Kissing made crazy-hard erections that made me cum so hard. My body started making a "Dad juice" every time. Dad licked and sucked every drop. After sucking me, Dad held me and told me, "Virgin cum is the best," though I couldn't taste myself in his mouth afterward when he kissed me. When I sucked Dad, I swallowed everything and licked him to make sure I got all of his semen. He had a strong man-body and said I was getting his strength in his cum. *** I don't know if it was his pestering or the fact that his erection was incredible, but Dad finally won the scuffles with Mom, and we had a new baby coming to our family. He was so happy, and became very protective of Mom. He was our protector, and our leader and I was so proud of my dad. *** Dad and I put a calendar and a pencil in the goat shed to keep notes. That September, when Whitey started acting funny, I figured she was making an egg; ready to breed, and told Dad. I had a checklist from a website, and advice from my friends. Dad had some experience with sheep, and we reviewed the list and agreed. Whitey was healthy, and very smart. I thought she might be too small for the big billy I'd picked out for her. But Dad and I put her in a crate and took to meet her boyfriend for the evening. The billy was excited but tired - this was his season for mating and he was a popular guy in a big herd. Whitey was scared, and I told Dad. "They know what to do." He turned to talk to the farmer and his family. "No, Dad. She's scared, and she doesn't like the different people and animals around. It's like something bad's going to happen. You know - barbeque." I finally talked everyone into taking the goats into the barn, into a dim stall and leaving them alone with Dad and me. They chuckled at me being so fussy about breeding, but this was my family's income and our future I was managing. Serious business. "Dad, you told us the earth was alive, and to treat the soil carefully, well Whitey needs careful treatment, too. This is our goat empire we're building." I told Dad to keep the billy calm but close by, and let Whitey smell him. That took a while because he was so ready to circle her a lot before he mounted her. Then I rubbed her vulva, I pushed my fingers in a little, and I pressed on her spine to let her know she would feel pressure. Then I rubbed her vulva roughly, remembering how Dad got a little rough with Mom when they were doing sex. The old billy was experienced; he sniffed her, then licked her a little, as if he was trying to kiss her. "Dad, don't let him move too fast." I whispered. Dad only rolled his eyes. "Junie, I can't stop him." Whitey was flicking her tail faster, and making a lot of funny noises. I had to laugh, but I paid close attention for any kicking or nipping. I think she felt ready enough. Dad tried to keep the billy calm, but mounting is fast work. I reached around under the billy and stuck his penis into Whitey's swollen, wet vulva when he was in the right place, then rubbed Whitey's side. "Good girl, let him put his sperm in you. We're here and won't let anything bad happen to you." She was calm and didn't say anything but kept her eyes on me. After they'd mated several times, I motioned for Dad to take the billy away for a while. "Okay, Dad. The timing is important - we need to stay all night. Then we have to wait for about three weeks to see if it worked." I told him. "Junie, I'm not staying all night with this stinking goat so Whitey can have a honeymoon. She's not some snooty little princess. Let her be a goat." "But this is her first time, have a heart, Dad." Dad gave me an odd look, and then smiled. "Yeah, well, she's had her "special" moment already." Dad stayed into the night with me, helping the billy mate my Whitey several more times. Finally Dad admitted, "Enough, we have to get home, Junie. Mom and Rod are alone tonight. If it didn't work this time, we'll be back." I fell asleep on the way home, but had to get up and help get Whitey in her shed. *** That fall, Dad made some big changes on the farm again. He took on part-time work at a delivery company and told Mom to stay home. "The boys need you. Junie can stay home with you. Let's do that home schooling thing so you won't be alone. "We're not in full production yet, so Junie can take the lighter tasks and tend Whitey." Mom and I went to my school and talked with a lot of the big shots and I began classes online in January. Classes took me two or three hours everyday because I didn't have to wait all the time like in school. Mom sat with me and we had a good time, especially with the biology - she knew a lot about plants and animals from her military service. I even liked the Math and English; Spanish was a little more difficult, but Mom made flash cards and a game for irregular verbs. Then, it got easy. Then, one day a big surprise happened! Dad told us he'd made another deal with a trucker-farmer who drove with him sometimes. The man delivered a beehive. It looked like a big, white box, but it opened up and had all the places for bees to store honey and keep a nursery for baby bees. There was a queen bee and some workers inside. They were mad about their home being wrapped inside a tarp riding down the highway. Mom told us she would take care of the bees, and they would increase the berry crop. "And honey is scrumptious!" She told me as we researched online about them. Seems bees like peace and quiet, and not a lot of nosy goats hanging around trying to see what they were doing and tump over their hive. So Mom and I spent the next morning making a level place for the hive near the edge of our property. Mom's eyes looked like the color of the bee's bodies, and had flecks of honey-color in them. Maybe she was meant to keep bees. *** Mom was a much better wheeler-dealer than Dad ever was. Probably because she was so pretty, with long, straight black hair and a thin body. She was always smiling, and happy. But she knew what people needed and brought in all kinds of things on her deals. Now that she was home, she got a lot of clothes for Rod and me through her friends on the internet. No new clothes, but we were growing fast, and our clothes went on to other kids if they were still usable. Shoes were always a problem, though. I used boots now because I was out in the goat shed and spreading compost. Sometimes I had to use four pair of socks to make my boots fit, but that was okay - they were waterproof and they matched. Dad said he loved Mom when she was pregnant, because she finally had breasts. That didn't mean much to me, I loved her because she loved me, and hugged me and kissed me, and she hated the battoir! *** Dad delivered pre-made cabinets to a new subdivision four days a week. I missed him, but he had a plan in mind, and I was part of it. He brought home scrap lumber to start expanding the goat shed. Mom, Dad and I got cell phones so I could call Mom and Dad anytime. But now Dad was gone on Friday nights. I missed his attention, our showers together and my hot, fast cums. Mom offered to give me enemas, but it wasn't the same. I think she understood that Friday nights were Dad's time with me. She thought we were still working on pooping. *** The weather was getting cold, and I was out in two sweaters, my old work jacket that didn't zip up anymore and wearing several pair of pants taking care of Whitey when I heard someone coming in the drive. A shiny black pick-up with tinted windows pulled in the drive and Mr. Grubb got out. "Where's Douglas?" He hollered. I knew better than to tell anyone I was alone with Mom. "In town." I told him. "You can call him." "Okay. But come in the cab of my truck while I call. Dang, its cold." I got in the truck - it was warm and smelled good. He had country music playing and everything was shiny and clean. Fancy. Dad answered his phone and talked to Mr. Grubb. They talked for a while about the hay and some other deals they had in the works. Grubb looked good, and I think he wore cologne. He had a leather jacket on and clean, dark blue jeans with a crease down the front! Finally, Mr. Grubb said "okay" several times and hung up the phone, reached into his glove compartment and pulled out a wallet, opened it and counted out some bills. There was a lot of money in his wallet! I looked past him and saw Mom watching out the window, waving at me. "Watch me count this out, and count it back to me." Mr. Grubb said and smiled. He counted out seven, hundred dollar bills and a fifty. I counted them back. "Seven hundred and fifty dollars. What's this for?" "That's your father's pay. Take it into your Mom. She'll put it in a safe place." He took a photo of me holding the fanned bills. "Why aren't you in school?" He asked. "Home school now." I said and grinned. "How's your mom, she doing okay?" He asked. I pointed to the window where Mom smiled and waved. "Well, where's little Rod - is he still stuck in classes?" I nodded. Mr. Grubb's hand went to my thigh. "Son, where are your gloves and your hat?" I blushed and got out of the cab saying I had to tend Whitey. We didn't have much money for extra clothes I'd outgrow in a few months but I wasn't going to say that. "Thanks, I'll give this to Mom." I stuffed the bills in my jeans and ran to the house. *** When I handed Mom the money, she took it, but told me I wasn't to be alone with Mr. Grubb. "He has some problems. God, I was so afraid he was going to drive away with you." "He looks okay - is he sick?" I asked. She held me gently beside her, "He had some legal problems. Stay away from him. Let your Daddy work with him, and stay out of their deals." That scared me a little. "Honey, you did a good job today, and I know you're working hard while Dad's gone, please stay away from Mr. Grubb." She looked at me. "Did he touch you?" "Nah." I wanted this conversation to end so I didn't say he'd touched my thigh or took my picture. "Good. Now, I want to see how Whitey's doing, is she full of her baby yet?" We went out to Whitey's shed and Mom sneaked some green beans in her coat pocket for Whitey and petted her and talked to her softly. "You boys did a great job on this shed, so warm in here." She said, rubbing Whitey's side. I showed Mom the little place I was making for her to birth. "You're as good to this goat as Dad is to us." She told me. "This is a nice place for babies - cozy and clean." *** Dad was coming home that night, and I was excited. He pulled in early and went to nap for a while. That afternoon I walked down to the road to get Rod off the bus and walk back to the house with him. When we got to our bedroom we stopped, stunned. The battoir was on the dresser and the chair was in the middle of the room. Dad heard us come in and immediately came to the bedroom and sent Rod out to the kitchen with Mom. "Junie, we need to have a serious talk. Very serious." I started undressing, though the room was cold. He watched me, and stripped down to his boxers and tee shirt, and grabbed his battoir, readying for his routine. Silently, I went and stood beside his chair, still wondering. "Mom told me you got in Mr. Grubb's truck with him. Is that true?" "Yes. I told him to call you, and then he gave me the money." "Do you think you could have waited for me to come home and get the money?" Seemed like we always needed money in the house. "I don't know." "You know you're not to be with him, especially alone..." He began, but stopped. "Do you understand?" "Yes." My eyes started burning, and my nose was running; my skin got goose bumps. I was going to be paddled and Dad seemed too serious to give me less than five. "Fifteen swats." Dad said, looking away. "Fifteen? Why so many, Dad?" I was floored - I never had that many. "Because being around Mr. Grubb is dangerous. He's having legal problems because he - well, he caused a problem with a child." "Does Mr. Grubb have a battoir, too?" I asked, thinking Mr. Grubb must have paddled the boy. What would be worse than that? "No. He did something else. He, um, well, hurt him. The boy had to go to the hospital." "Daddy, please don't give me fifteen, it hurts so much and I didn't know." I leaned over to kiss my Dad on his lips. He liked that. "Please Dad?" My arms went around his neck and I sat on his thigh with one leg between his. "I take good care of Mom and I finish all my classes every day." Dad was still and let me kiss him and hug him. "Junie I have teach you a lesson." He pulled me against him. "You need to remember not to be around Mr. Grubb. Don't mix our love with your lessons." Over his lap, I waited. It seemed like a long time before I felt the battoir, and I began screaming and crying at around the fifth swat. At the tenth swat, I peed a little, but I was out of control yelling and sobbing. My throat was raw and my skin was burning worse with every blow. Finally, he stopped and I felt his hand on my rear, my thighs and my back. "Do you have something to tell me?" He asked. I hesitantly stood up and nuzzled myself between his legs and putting my face on his neck trying to catch my breath. His arms went around me. "Thank you for teaching me not to be alone with Mr. Grubb. I'll call you or Mom if he asks for anything so you can handle it. I'll keep Rod with me so he's safe too." I kissed his neck and felt him press me against him. I was still sobbing, but he held me till I calmed down and he let me straddle his lap with my head on his chest. *** Dad was quiet for a long time, rubbing my back and my butt. "How did Mr. Grubb hurt the boy - was it an accident?" I asked. Dad sighed. "No accident. It was intentional - Mr. Grubb meant to hurt the boy." I nodded. "What happened?" "Okay." Dad pulled his erection up between our bodies. "See how big this is? Feel how hard it is?" I put my hand on his leaking erection while his right hand went between my red, stinging cheeks. He put three fingers at my anus and moved them around roughly. "Dad, not now." I told him. "Shhh." He rubbed and stuck the end of his finger inside me. "Does that feel good?" "No. You're being rough." "Well, look at my erection, and think of how much it would hurt if I tried to push all that inside you where my fingers are now. Think about me forcing it into you again and again real hard. Do you think it would hurt?" "Yeah." I could imagine some kid like Rod screaming and yelling. "Do you think that a big erection might tear a kid's skin, and hurt him inside? The kid had to go to the hospital. Mr. Grubb went to jail then the mental institution. The police keep an eye on him all the time now so he doesn't do it again." I was quiet thinking about all the doctors and blood and all the people looking at the kid's butt, then I remembered Dad always fingered my butt when he sucked me. "You touch my ass, and it's the best." I said. Dad held me close to him. "When we love each other, that's our private love. I don't hurt you, do I?" He whispered. I shook my head, "But you put your erection inside Mom." "Women have vaginas that are specially made for erections - my erection goes in her vagina, not her ass. Husbands always fit perfectly to make a lot of pleasure, and their babies. My erection and my semen are supposed to be inside your mom. She's a grown woman, not a little boy. Different. Very different." "Women can fight and call the police. Little boys can't - especially if they're drugged." "Sometimes men who want little boys use drugs, or tricks to get them away from their families and people who protect them. That's why you don't take food from anyone, and you have to watch out for Rod - don't go off with strangers or people who make you uncomfortable or talk about things that aren't their business. "Call me or Mom. Some people have a problem controlling themselves and they say they love children, but don't. That's a lie. "Do you understand me?" He held me against him. I nodded, more scared than ever of Mr. Grubb. *** Something else strange "Dad, if I ask you something about my penis would you give me the battoir again?" "We can talk about it. Did you put it in Whitey? That's against the law - that'll get you some swats for sure." "No Dad. But sometimes at night I get hard and I want to put it in Rod's ass - it's so warm." Surprisingly, Dad pressed me against him and kissed me. "Did you do it?" "Sometimes I rub his butt with my penis and I cum." "Does he move away?" He asked softly. "No. He's always asleep." "Time for bunk beds and time you stop touching Rod. Can you do that?" "Yeah." He nodded his head, thinking. "Do you think about putting your penis in girls?" "Nah. Girls confuse me." "Do you think about putting your penis inside your mother?" He whispered. "No. She's my mom!" "Do you think about putting your penis in me?" I shook my head, "No." Never thought about that. He held me closely against him and rocked me, kissing my neck. "A thought is just a thought - your private business as long as it stays in your brain. Acting them out can bring a lot of problems. You and Rod need to learn to control yourselves - make the line very clear between thinking and doing. Don't touch him, and he's not to touch you." I nodded. I hugged his neck and put my tongue in his mouth and tasted a man. My penis got hard; so was his. Dad gave me a special kiss for a long time and stroked my penis. "Dad - it's not even night." I told him. "Watch this." He grabbed the base of my erect penis between his index finger and his thumb, then put the fingers of his other hand on my scrotum, between my testicles and pinched both at the same time as he jerked my scrotum downward. "Ow!" I stared at him. "Why did you do that?" "Makes erections go away. Look. That's one way to control yourself." He was right - but I didn't like that at all! Then he helped me dress, kissing the red places from the battoir.