Date: Fri, 26 Mar 2021 20:27:23 +0000 (GMT) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line - Chapter 131 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn't your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you've come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable - you're in the right place. Don't leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty - these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. http://donate.nifty.org/donate.html NOTE to the reader: "Peter Brown" aka badboi666 is, as you might guess, not in the first flush of youth: indeed he is well into the you'll-die-if-you-get-this-fucking-thing age cohort. If he gets a nasty cough and a temperature he will post a synopsis of what is still to come. Then, if he snuffs it, you can at least have some idea of what befell Dab in the end. The good news is that he has had his first Pfizer shot. =============================================================================== Chapter 131 Word got round so quickly that by the time Billy and I were ready to go up to Inverthrum with Jack and Hamish the business of digging the grave had been taken out of our hands. Old Gregor (who wasn't that old, but was called that to distinguish him from his son Young Gregor) - the policeman - said that we had done enough for Lairg, and that the work of digging a double grave would fall to others. "Leave it to me - there are enough strong men here who will want to take the only chance they have of paying their respects to Andrew and to Ralph." I shook his hand. "You'll come up to Inverthrum after we bury them, I hope," I said. "Aye, you'll be catering for most of the village, I'm thinking." I hadn't expected that, but he was right, of course. And more to the point, whereas Billy and I had brought enough beer and wine to sink a battleship, whisky had not been on the list. A Highland funeral would need industrial quantities, even now. Still, as we were no longer needed the following morning two of us could go to one of the distilleries still working and load up. As being briefed on what I should expect the next day was important I asked Hamish if he would come with me. "That way I tell you about the tribal customs, Dab, is that it?" I smiled - he was making a huge effort to be brave in the face of losing Ralphie. "Will we need to provide food?" "The women do that, Dab. I'll go in and tell Mum where it'll be. Billy and Jack can set things up while we go to Tain." When we went in to see Rose she couldn't stop weeping and hugging us all. "Oh, Dab, how awful! And the day you and Billy came back." She studied her son's face. "You're all in one piece. Thank God! Poor Ralphie. I'm so sorry," and her tears brought tears from Hamish. The two of them hugged for ages until Hamish gently broke apart. "Mum, we need food up at Inverthrum tomorrow." "Of course you do - is that where we'll be?" I nodded, "everyone in the village." "That's good, Dab, it's how it should be, just like hundreds of years ago. Don't worry about food - I'll get enough women organised -" "And I'll do the whisky with Dab, Mum." She smiled, more from relief that happiness. "Aye, that's man's work." ***** "Are you sure that'll be enough" said Hamish as the two dozen bottles were loaded into the van at Tain. "If not they'll have to drink beer or wine." During the drive he'd said very little, but once we left the distillery he explained what would happen. "When Dad died Gregor said that since there wasn't a Minister any more he wondered who would lead the ceremony - 'that's if you're having a ceremony,' he said. Mum said it should be done properly, and would Gregor lead. It made sense as he was the only official person in Lairg. By then the police system had stopped working, but individual bobbies kept things in order as best as they could. Having the polis as the unofficial village head - especially if he was a good man like Old Gregor - meant that Lairg didn't suffer as other places seem to have done. Anyway, Old Gregor will be in charge today. I don't know who will be Andrew's chief mourner - he had no family - so my guess is that Gregor will ask you, Dab. You're the laird, after all. And having you involved shows the whole village that Gregor values you as a leader. I'll be Ralphie's chief mourner of course." "Will the village be happy with that?" "You mean will they worry about one of theirs being a queer lover? No, it was no secret. Fifty years ago I'd have been skinned alive, but now - nobody really cares much. One or two of the old religious ones mutter, but nobody pays them any attention. Nowadays who chops your firewood and helps you with heavy jobs is more important that what they do in bed, especially if you're old and can't chop your own wood. And I made damn sure that all three of us have made ourselves invaluable in the village." He paused. "What will Iain do, I wonder." I couldn't see a problem. "If he and Jack are an item why can't he move in with us? Is that what he'd like?" "It's certainly what he'd like, Dab, but it's not up to him, is it?" "Am I being dim, Hamish? What's the problem?" "His family. They'd have no difficulty with their boy getting it off with you, Dab, because you're the laird, nor with Hamish, who's nice and white - but a 'blackie' - no way. We've made being queer pretty respectable up here, but we've not made any progress with racism. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. After everything that had happened since Easter 2040 here we were in a Scottish village nearly 33 years later when the colour of somebody's skin still mattered. "Are they typical?" "Good God, no. There's one other family who thinks like that, but the rest of them - well, they don't care one way or the other. Jack's just Jack. He's the one who's been living here in charge at Inverthrum for donkey's years. He and I are a couple. If you asked them anything else about Jack they'd struggle. His being black just doesn't register." "So how do we get round parental resistance?" "You - the laird - tell his father how proud he must be of a boy of only 16 who played a part in ridding Lairg of murdering jillies. And when the silly fool says his piece about his fine braw son you - the laird - tell his father that you need a lad of such capability on your staff up at the Big Hoose (he'll love that). Then when he asks you want employment his son will have you'd better have thought of a convincing answer." I grinned. "What would you suggest?" "Nothing too personal - not keeper of the bed-chamber or anything - maybe something manly. Being trained by Jack who, despite being a blackie, actually led the fight yesterday and saw great potential in young Iain - Dab, you can invent it surely?" And it was Hamish's turn to grin. "You'll need to make all kinds of speeches. The one when they lower Andrew in matters the most. Get that right and Lairg will never forget - they'll even tell their grandchildren." "Och away," I said, trying the dialect for size. ***** The burial was attended by almost everyone in Lairg - only the housebound were absent. There must have been over 300. I'd never seen a double grave before, and I was glad that I hadn't had to dig any of it. Two coffins lay beside it - not the polished wood of coffins from my boyhood but sturdy well-crafted unvarnished boxes. Whoever had made them must have worked all night. Twelve of us stood round the grave with ropes in our hands, Hamish and I at the heads of the coffins. Gregor stood at the foot. His words were simple. An old man known to everyone there had been killed. A young man, not a villager but one who had lived with them for many years, had died trying to avenge the old man and prevent any more deaths. "The Laird will say a few words." For the first time I had to address the entire village. I was glad I'd spent time with Gregor learning enough about Andrew's life to say what needed to be said. "Hamish," said Gregor. Hamish's words were simple - Ralphie had been a part of his life for 22 years and Lairg owed him a debt of honour. Being buried beside a man who had lived his whole life in Lairg was all the honour that was needed. There was an appreciative murmur. Gregor gave a nod and the twelve of us took hold of our ropes. The coffins were slowly lowered ... earth was shovelled in - a hollow sound which always made me shudder ... we stood back awkwardly, no-one wishing to be the first to move away. Gregor said that everyone was invited to 'take a dram in Andrew's and Ralph's memory up at Inverthrum', and the solemn mood was broken. Billy and Jack had taken the van up the track with Rose and her helpers as soon as the burial was over. By the time the first of the villagers had walked up they had everything ready - food, drink, chairs for the old ones. Hamish and I joined Billy and Jack to welcome them - it was going to be a long afternoon. I'd already asked Iain to introduce me to his father, but first I wanted to get to know Gregor. ***** It was several hours before the last of the stragglers left, but among us the four hosts achieved a great deal. People the three of us (excluding Hamish) had never seen before made a point of saying something positive about how much safer they felt compared to stories they had heard about places further south. Iain's parents had basked in the reflected glory of their son's part in the day before's action, so much so that his father took little persuading that Iain's future was 'learning to be a man with the laird'. Amen to that, I thought. The four of us - five really, because Iain had already attached himself - had spent a very useful ten minutes with both Gregors talking about security and how we might help improve it. "These damn jilly folk are a menace in some places, Dab, and we must make sure they stay away. I'm told they string them up down south, like a gamekeeper strings up crows." It was Iain who said he'd heard that from one of his friends in Inverness. "Will you help us deal with the bodies, Gregor?" asked Hamish. "No, but I'll not be stopping you." He turned to his son, silent until then. "is it something you might care to assist with?" Young Gregor, then about 35 and a big man like his father, grinned. "Six of us will do what's needed, Father. You too, Iain, you seem to be part of these fine folk up at the Big Hoose now." I could see that Young Gregor was being mischievous - it can't have escaped him that a lad of 16 joining a houseful of open queers might be joining the household for reasons best not spoken of openly - and I risked a wink. It was returned. Iain, who saw neither wink, confirmed Gregor's suspicion by outdoing any Cunliffe with his blushes. Gregor took the poor boy's arm and whispered, "nobody minds, son, apart from your daft faither. Just find a way not to blush so easily." He winked at me again. "Time we were away, Father - I'll meet you five at Andrew's at 9 tomorrow morning to do what's needed," and the majesty of the law, or what remained of it, took itself off. That was the signal for most of the rest of the lingerers to walk - in many cases weave - back down the track. "Are you going back home?" Jack asked Iain when everyone had gone. "I suppose I should. Can I come back to live tomorrow? Dab?" "Of course you can, but don't make it too obvious you can't wait, Iain. We'll see you at Andrew's tomorrow and when that's all finished you and I will go to see your parents and you can pack what clothes and belongings you want." Iain's eyes gleamed. "Thanks, Dab." "Now it's late and I don't imagine there's any jillies about, but just in case why doesn't Jack see you safely on your way?" Iain was about to protest that he was perfectly competent to make his own way home when the wheels began to turn. "Yes, that would be nice," he said. Jack's eyes were gleaming too. Billy and Hamish slumped into chairs. "That's the longest I've been on my feet," grumbled Billy. "Aye well, the laird'll be doing a lot more entertaining if the amount of whisky drunk is anything to go by," said Hamish, "so you'll need to get used to being all host-like, Billy." "Hosts think about sleeping arrangements," I said, "what are we going to do about Iain?" "It's obvious, isn't it," said Hamish, "he can't take his eyes off Jack. By the time Jack gets back tonight we'll know whether his eyes are the only thing. Somehow I doubt it." "Does that bother you - sharing Jack?" I said. "Why on earth would it, Dab? Jack and I were a threesome with Ralphie, and there was never any tension. I can't think there will be tension with Iain - certainly not with Jack or me. Iain will soon work out how things are in our room." He smiled. "And I don't suppose you and Billy will be completely off-limits." ***** When we got to Andrew's croft we found that Young Gregor had already loaded the bodies onto a cart. "Look at them," he said, "there's one just a boy - just like Iain." Two of them were rough-looking men who could have been anywhere from 35 to 55. "When you live rough you age fast," said Gregor, "I don't suppose these four have slept in a bed for months until they came here." The other two were younger - their sons, perhaps - and the youngest looked younger than Iain to me. What a waste, but thoughts like that were a luxury, alas. There would be tens of millions of wasted lives in this ghastly century. "Where do you want them?" Gregor asked, looking at me. I had no idea - it wasn't something I really wanted to do anyway. Iain said they should go on roads to stop other jillies, "at least to let them know what happened to the last lot who tried." Gregor said that there was no point in having a deterrent to the north, so we took one of the men and one of the boys and hung them from trees on the east road, and one of the other two on each of the south roads. It was unpleasant work. "How long do we leave them?" said Jack. "They stay here always," said Iain, "at least, that's what my friend says they did in Inverness." Gregor sighed. "He's right, your friend, Iain. There were jillies strung up there years ago - around 2065 I think - and their bones are still there. No-one pays much attention now, except maybe for any jillies daft enough to try their luck. Now, while I've got you all here. What plans do you have for Inverthrum? Will all of you be staying here?" I shook my head. "No. Billy and I will be going back south, but probably not for some weeks. Inverthrum belongs to me, but it's been Jack's and Hamish's home - and Ralphie's - for over 20 years." "And mine now," said Iain quietly. "You're sure, Iain?" "Yes Gregor," he looked at Jack who took his hand, "yes, I'm sure. We're sure." Gregor smiled. "When I was a wee lad calling someone 'queer' was as big an insult as we could think of in the playground. You - all of you - have shown how silly that was. Without what you've done at Inverthrum, Jack, all that growing and research, Lairg would have no fresh fruit and a damn sight poorer diet. That's far more important that what you rogues get up to between the sheets. Don't pay any attention to the ones who don't like it. My Father and I know what's good for the village." We drove back into Lairg. "Well, that's the end of the jilly problem, I hope," said Gregor, and he went away with the cart. When Jack had got home the night before it had been immediately clear that generalship, while important, had not been the main reason for Iain's desire to come and live with us. Jack had listened while Iain had stumbled through his feelings. "Are you cross?" "No, Iain. Are you sure?" "Yes, Jack." As Jack told us when he got back no sooner had the first tentative kiss taken place than Iain 'became frenzied' and it had been the work of moments for cocks to be felt, to be found to be hard, to be freed from the confines of clothing, to be stroked, for Iain to groan, for Jack to be quick enough in falling to his knees so that when Iain's cock started to spasm it did so in Jack's mouth. Iain had cum gallons, it appeared, and the effort had so exhausted him that two full minutes passed while he stood leaning on the still kneeling Jack. Then he had gently lifted Jack to his feet. "My turn," he had said softly as he knelt. Jack grinned at the memory. "He'll love it here, Dab, and I'm sure he'll enjoy being welcomed by all of us." It would have been tactless for a whole posse to turn up to assist Iain with the business of gathering a few possessions, so the task was left to me. His mother fussed around making sure that her boy was properly equipped for his new life; his father took me into the kitchen and gave me a dram. "He's a good boy, and a hard worker - but you know that already. Have you done ... the jillies?" I nodded. "It's a horrible business - one of them was only about 14 - but the world's sometimes a horrible place now, Mr Grant. It's done. They're just over a mile away of the roads east and south." At that point Iain and his mother appeared. "Well, son," said his father, "you're a man now." "Aye, Father," and they shook hands. Mrs Grant embraced her son. "I'm not going to the North Pole, Mum, it's only up the track." "Aye, you're right," she said and we were hustled out of the door before her tears became too evident. "Well, Dab," he said as we climbed into the van, "I'm a man according to my father. Is it a man I'm to be or a boy?" "That depends on how you feel, Iain. Sometimes it's nice to be one and sometimes the other. Jack told us about last night - that's how it works at Inverthrum. Nobody has any secrets, and nobody does anything he doesn't want to." I don't think he had expected his exploits in the dark with Jack to be brought into the light so quickly - or indeed, at all. "We didn't talk much - last night, I mean - it was so sudden, and then it was so urgent." "I know, Iain, I've been there: we all have. That's what's so relaxing about life with us - we all know what's what and everyone can so what he wants. Billy and I have been together since we were a bit younger than you are. Hamish found Jack when he was the same. Now you've found Jack." We weren't far short of Inverthrum. "There's something I need to ask you, Dab. Can you slow down. If Jack and Hamish are a couple, where do I fit in. I think Jack's ... well, special. Does that mean I'm trying to push Hamish out?" I stopped the van: this needed more than a minute or two. "It's like this, Iain. I love Billy and Billy loves me. But each of us fucks any of the others, and not just fucks. You're OK with this?" He nodded: OK was understating it. "Jack loves Hamish and Hamish loves Jack. They fuck the rest of us. Ralphie joined them - us - when he was 15. He was one of a group of boys who'd been living wild near where Billy and I live in England, and he and his brother ... let's put it this way, one of us persuaded them to come and live with us. He came up here to live with Jack and Hamish and he'd been here ever since. They were a threesome, Iain, just as I think you'll be a threesome. You're allowed to love more than one person, you know." I restarted the van. "Wow!" he said softly, "and they know all this?" "Aye. And since you'd better know all our secrets let me tell you who I am." "I know who you are, Dab." "But what Gregor said about my being the laird was true. As well as being Dab Cunliffe I'm also the Earl of Inchkeith." "Wow!" but not as softly this time. ***** Iain encountered so many new things that day. By the time we all called it a night he had had a couple of pints of Cunliffe's best (the beer, that is) and a hearty ration of the other variety; he had, for the first time in his life, seen no fewer than four naked males eager for action; he had enjoyed a variety of actions consequent upon seeing the options set before him; he had - most important of all - acknowledged to us all that he loved Jack and that he wanted Jack to be the first person to fuck him. (This after he had seen the size of the challenge.) It seemed only tactful for Billy, Hamish and me to disappear downstairs while this took place. By then it was almost 9 o'clock and we hadn't eaten since we got back with Iain several hours before. Hamish stirred himself. "When I was his age I remember that being fucked gave me a huge appetite. If I put something on now it'll be ready by the time Jack's finished." Billy was curious. "Do you really not mind?" "Of course not. I've lived with you lot long enough to know how it works. I know that Dab used to fuck anything he could lay his hands on in short trousers at Cambridge - I know, Dab, I wasn't being precise - and you always said it never bothered you - you had Rivers, didn't you, and then Jack and Dodo. No, I don't mind at all. I'll probably get to fuck the boy soon enough. He's the one who's new to all this, and he's the one who's got to deal with the one he loves fucking other people. Now Dab, open a bottle of something from Sussex while I heat up some soup and get a treacle pudding in the oven." =============================================================================== The story continues in Chapter 132 as Iain becomes accustomed to our strange ways. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================