Date: Sat, 1 Feb 2020 08:33:50 +0000 (UTC)
From: Peter Brown <badboi666@btinternet.com>
Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 36

Last of the Line by badboi666

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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
===============================================================================

Chapter 36

By 5 o'clock that day Jack and Hester had become firm friends, and even
Jorrocks had accepted that having a woman in charge would be all right.  We
came to an informal agreement that when he felt he was no longer needed he
would tell me.  Hester was happy with this.  In fact he stayed until the
following spring, seeing the grounds through a harvesting, a preparation,
and a planting season.  Hester told me quietly at the farewell party we
held for him that she had learned more than she had expected from him.  His
wife was with him, and she was delighted when I gave him a present of a
clock and £500.  "You must give me the ginger cordial recipe," I said to
her, and she smiled happily.  Delivery slipped her mind, alas, perhaps not
wholly accidentally.

It was agreed that the two women would move in a few days after the lunch,
Mrs Tallis having time to prepare a bedroom and a sitting room next door.
Hester and Pam were delighted.  The household was now settled.

It was then late August, and I would be going back to school in a
fortnight.  My A-level results had arrived, and to my relief I passed all
subjects with Distinction.  Bell had sent me a letter of congratulation
saying simply, "Cambridge, here we come".  Suddenly I had two weeks with
nothing to do apart from enjoy life: it was unexpected.  As it was pouring
with rain I got a beer and went to the Library, where I found Billy busy
with Pinkie Brown.  I got him a beer as well.  "You'll need this - he's
horrible."  I settled down to see how Amos, now known to be mired in
sodomy, and Jacob, slowly dying, were faring.  I had ignored them for too
long.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

We started to make our way back to the mine.  I was resolved to follow the
doctor's advice to go slowly, and it was three days before we were back.
Jacob was weary, but cheerful: the journey had not made him ill, as I
feared might have happened.  As it was early afternoon he insisted on going
into the mine to see what was happening.  A part of me wanted to restrain
him, to urge him to conserve his strength, but the larger part of me knew
in my heart that it was pointless.  If Jacob was to die in a few months
then nothing should stand in the way if allowing him to be alert and active
while he still could.  I stayed close beside him, however, unwilling to
stop caring for my friend - my benefactor.

We saw William working near the entrance, and he threw down his tools when
he saw us approaching.  "Jacob, it's good to see you back!  Did the quack
fix you up?"  I had already determined that I would say nothing of Jacob's
condition to any save my Father, and to him only in the privacy of our
tent.  If Jacob wished others to know he was dying it was for him to tell
them; his silence would mean my silence.  Jacob merely smiled and said that
he was glad he had seen a doctor.  "Good," said William, "I'm glad to see
you both back safely.  Amos, you must let Joel know of your return, for he
has been worried at your long absence."

Jacob urged me to do as William said.  "Go, Amos, you've looked after me
well.  I'm home now, and you need stay beside me no longer."  He hugged me
close, and I felt my heart melt with pity for him.  I went in search of my
Father, finding him working alone.  "Father!" I cried.  "Amos!  I'm glad
you are safe.  And Jacob, how is he?"  As there was no-one near I spoke
quietly, telling my Father all that had happened.  He gave a great sigh.
"The poor boy.  He knows he will die?" I nodded.  "His courage is very
moving, Father.  I know not if I could face death as bravely as he."  My
Father agreed.  "We must pray that God gives him the strength to complete
his journey here on Earth, Amos."  I nodded again.  I was not much given to
prayer, but if my Father felt it would help Jacob I was willing to pray
with my Father.  For some reason I did not tell my Father about the money -
Jacob's health was more important at that moment.

"Where is he now?" my Father asked.  "I left him talking to William.  He
will be kind and gentle, Father, and I'm sure Jacob will find comfort."  My
Father sighed.  "I hope you are right, Amos, but I confess I find it hard
in my heart to believe that comfort can come from sin."  I did something
then which I had never done before.  I laid my hand on my Father's arm - as
though I were the man and he the awkward boy - and asked him to trust me.
"I am more understanding of these matters than you, Father, and I am sure.
I know it is hard for you."

"Go and find Jacob and tell him that his place is with us, in our tent.
Tell him that we will look after him, Amos.  Tell him that from me."  "Aye,
Father.  God bless you."

*****

Jacob lodged with us.  In the next few days he went about the business of
mining as though naught had befallen him.  I made sure I was close by, but
I saw no sign of weakness in him.  After a few days I no longer felt the
need to keep a constant watch.  One night as we were eating supper he said
that he had noticed I was no longer so close.  "I see you have worked out
that I'm not quite on my last legs yet, Amos."  I was ashamed, but his face
showed that he was speaking lightly, and was teasing me.

Naturally neither Jacob nor I had any desire to go out to the knoll, and
William and Jed were understanding.  Jed told me Lucky was manfully taking
our place, and his grin told me that Lucky was performing that duty with
satisfactory outcomes.  "When Jacob is fully recovered you and he must
spend a little time with Lucky, Amos."  I bit my lips.  It would be a few
months before I ventured out with Lucky, I thought.

"What of Harry?" I asked, "has he confessed to Gideon's death yet?"  I knew
that he had not, for he went about the camp as he always had done, but I
wished to hear what Jed had to say.  "Nay, lad, nor will he.  William is
certain he did it, but it's William's word against Harry's.  But there's
no-one else it could be, so we are all wary.  You should be even more
careful, Amos.  Harry can be dangerous."

That night, after our supper, Jacob said he was going to take the air.  I
got up to go with him, thinking he might be going to the knoll, but he
stopped me.  "I need to be alone," he said, "I have to think."  My Father
and I were understanding, and we merely nodded as he went out.

After an hour we began to fret.  "Did the doctor say his decline would be
sudden, Amos?"  I said that we had been told it would be gradual, certainly
at first.  "Perhaps he is talking with one of the others."  I hoped that he
was fucking with one of the others, for there would be only a few weeks
when he would still be able to enjoy the ecstasy that we had known so
innocently out at the knoll.  Another hour passed, and even I was becoming
alarmed.  Then, just as we were debating whether we should go out to search
for him, he came slowly back, his face ashen.

My Father leapt up.  "Jacob, what has happened?"  "Joel, I am sure Amos has
told you that the injuries my father inflicted on me will kill me."  My
Father nodded, "I am so sorry, Jacob."  "Nay, Joel, it is a fine thing to
know that one's death is to be soon, for it enables one to see that life is
short, and things that must be done must be done swiftly."  This was a new
Jacob, his voice brittle and his eyes gleaming hotly.  "I have spent long
hours with William, and he has told me what he saw the night my father beat
me.  I believe him when he told me that Harry went into our tent and killed
my father."  He paused, gathering himself.  "Joel, you have been kind to
me, as have you, Amos, and I wish to confess to you.  What you do I cannot
say, but whatever you do must be done soon, for my days are short."  I
wondered what he was meaning - had his mind started to wander?

"I have been in Harry's tent.  I went in knowing what I planned to do.
Harry is a cruel man, as we all know, but Harry has a liking for boys.  I
offered myself to him, and while he was engaged and his mind was on his
lust I stabbed him in the eye.  He is dead."  There was a deathly silence.
My Father's head was in his hands.  "Oh Jacob," he said, "your soul must be
torn in two."  Then, after another few minutes he stood up.  "Amos, look
after him.  Stay here, both of you."

When he had gone I cradled Jacob in my arms.  Since he had said that Harry
was dead he had made no sound, but he seemed calm and relaxed.  It was as
though some mighty task had been completed, and he was at ease.  "What will
he do?"  I said I did not know.  "I imagine he has gone to see that Harry
is indeed dead, and to tell some of the others."  "Good.  It will be swift
then.  Amos, stay with me - right to the end."  "Of course I will, you know
that."  I bent to kiss him, and he smiled as our lips met.

I learned afterwards that my Father had gone to see Rueben and William, and
the three of them had seen Harry.  My Father asked the other two what they
thought should happen, it being impossible to keep the news of Harry's
death secret once daybreak came.  He told them that Jacob had not long to
live, explaining what the doctor had said.  Rueben said that he had known
of men who had been injured in a similar manner, and their deaths had been
prolonged. "In his shoes I would welcome a quick death, Joel, harsh though
it might seem.  It would be a mercy to the boy."  William felt responsible,
my Father told me, for without his testimony Jacob would not have taken
revenge in the way he had.  "There is no doubt that he killed Harry?" he
asked.  "None, for he confessed it to Amos and me."  "Then we must do the
only thing we can, Joel," said Rueben, "and harsh though it might seem it
is just, and it is merciful.  Jacob must hang in the morning.  It will be
swift, and his suffering will be as naught compared with what awaits him
otherwise."

I knew none of that at the time.  When our kissing was done Jacob smiled.
"They will hang me in the morning, Amos, I'm sure of it.  No -" (for I had
leapt up) "- it is what I expected. It will be quick, and the suffering
which lies before me will be snuffed out.  Did you not wonder why I could
so easily give everything away?  This is what I planned, and the part you
must play is to stay with me until it is done."  I was weeping - selfishly,
I know, for my part was to be strong for him - and he smiled again.
"Weeping is good, Amos, it comforts me to know that in your heart you will
always remember me.  Who knows, when you and Jed are fucking you may
remember me in your arse as well."  And God help me, I laughed.  "That's
good, Amos, let's laugh together.  Weep, laugh, there won't be much chance
of either in the grave."

They hanged Jacob at 8 the following morning.  I stood beside him as I had
promised.  It was very quick.

*****

The camp was never the same after that.  We worked on, but the
light-hearted mood at the end of each day was gone.  I went to the knoll
with Jed and William but rarely, and when I did the carefree nature of our
earlier trysts was no longer there.  The only lighter moment came when I
suggested to Lucky - some weeks after Jacob's death - that we younger ones
might go and sin together - yes, that was how I expressed it to him - and
he chuckled.  "I have been watching you, Amos, and waiting for you to
suggest something of the kind.  William and Jed have told me that an hour
spent with you away from camp would not be an hour wasted.  Come then, and
we shall sin indeed."  We walked to the knoll, uncaring now whether or no
we should be observed.  And in truth no-one was concerned: the three deaths
had put an end to that.  We were shunned by a few and ignored by most.  If
those who ignored us thought ill of our doings they were wise enough to
keep such thoughts to themselves.

We talked quietly as we walked.  Each of us, though new to the other, was
experienced enough in the business we were undertaking to be relaxed about
it - quite unlike how I had been with Seth, or even with Jed and William.
"What is it you like to do, Amos?" Lucky asked.  I said I liked all the
things that I had done out on the knoll, and if he knew new things I had
not enjoyed before I should be glad to learn them.  He laughed softly - I
found his laughter infectious - and said that we should both be glad if
that were so.  Although he was a few years older than I he was no taller,
nor was he of larger stature in his body: we were matched in that regard,
each slim and supple.  It was only as we removed our britches and our
undercloths that I perceived where a considerable difference lay.  By this
time in California my cock had grown and when full hard it was some 7
inches (as Jacob's had been).  Both Jed and William had cocks perhaps an
inch longer, and I supposed (being innocent in these matters) that all
full-grown men had cocks of that size. How wrong I was! for Lucky's cock
was much longer.  My eyes widened, and he was watching, guessing that I
might not have encountered such generosity in a cock before.  "You are
impressed, Amos, I see.  How much more impressed will you be when all of
that is buried hot and urgent inside your arse?"  I had no ready answer,
but my desire to find out was great.

"It's 11 inches, Amos.  Do you think your pretty arse can accommodate all
of it?"  By way of answer I lay on my back and drew my knees about my ears.
William had taught me early in our fucking that a greater penetration could
be obtained in that position.  I grinned lustfully.  "Come and find out,
Lucky," I whispered.  I was no longer the shy boy I had been when first
Seth had fucked me in that spot; the passing of years, and the vast amount
of spunk that had been shot inside me had made me as lascivious as the
lowest whore (not that I had any experience of such matters - apart from
poor Molly, and she had been gentle and tender with my virginal self).
Lucky knelt and pushed a finger into me.  "Aha! Greased and ready for it!
Amos, you are a wicked slut, and I think I like you a great deal."  I
grinned - such talk fired my lusts even higher.  "It's your magic 11 inches
I seek, Lucky, not your fucking fingers."  What had come over me, I
wondered, for such talk was not how I usually spoke, even out here on the
knoll.

At last I felt him enter me, hot and insistent.  My arse was stretched,
making me hotter than ever to be possessed, to be filled, to be fucked
long, deep and hard.  On and on it came, reaching deeper into me than any
had before.  "Pause a moment," I panted, "let me become accustomed to it
... aah! ... yes, more now, but slowly, let me feel each inch."  Lucky
whispered that I was a hot little bugger - words which I interpreted as
praise.  Further and further he pressed into me, and in truth I have to say
that - on that first occasion - it was intensely painful for the last two
inches.  His cock pressed hard into parts of my bowels that no cock had
reached before, and the pain was severe.  So, at the same time, was the
delight that its hot hard presence was causing.  Pain and pleasure - a
common enough combination now - were a new thing to me that night: new,
wonderful and frightening at the same time.

He gave a last push, and a cry escaped from me.  "Well done," he murmured,
"I did not think you would take it all."  I groaned a little, but managed
to say that I was loving the feeling of his cock.  I was glad that he was
giving me time to get used to being filled so thoroughly before he began to
fuck me, and it was thus very unexpected when I felt a new hot feeling deep
inside me.  "What are you doing?" I whispered.  He made no reply, and the
pressure inside me grew.  A few seconds passed, and all the while the
strange new feeling was exciting me greatly - I felt as though I would
explode with lust.  "Can you not guess?"  I shook my head then suddenly he
withdrew his cock swiftly and I could feel his jizz pouring out of my arse.
"Did you come, Lucky, did you come without even fucking me?"  "Look," he
whispered, and to my astonishment I saw his cock gushing piss onto me.
Piss!  "Were you pissing up my arse?  Is that what I thought was jizz?"
His cock was still pissing, and my initial feeling of disgust had altered.
I found the sensation was making my cock harder than it had been, and as he
pissed on - he must have pissed gallons by this time, or so it felt - I
found more and more that I wanted him to go on pissing for ever.  "You like
it, don't you, Amos?  So does William.  Why don't we change and you can
piss on me?"  I never gave a moment's thought to how we should wash
ourselves after such a performance, and before I could think Lucky was on
his back and my cock was buried inside him as far as I could reach.  "Can
you piss now that you are in?" he said.  Try as I might I could not.  My
cock was hard and I know how difficult it is to piss in that state.  "Never
mind," he said softly, "you will learn with practice.  Why not fuck me
since you are so hot and hard?"  I needed no second bidding.

I fucked Lucky for many minutes that night.  During the next four months
before we left camp to go down to Barbary we fucked each other many times -
more often than I went with Jeb or William (though I know not how often
they went fucking with Lucky) - and as he had said, I learned the skill of
pissing while inside his arse.  It was a very strange sensation, but one
which both of us enjoyed greatly.  I managed to make my fucking last much
longer too, and by the time we went to one of the cots in Barbary that
winter each of us could fuck the other for an hour or more before the final
blissful release.  What it was to be 17!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

I turned to Billy, still in Brighton.  "My
great-great-great-great-grandfather was as into pissfucking as we are."
"That's nice," he said, not really paying attention, "it must run in the
family."  I snorted.  The rain had stopped.  I needed air, I decided.
Amos's story was hard, and although it had all happened 180 and more years
ago it was still very real to me.  "Come on, let's go and see Jack."

Jack had blossomed even more under Hester's tutelage than he had under
Jorrocks's - or perhaps it was because both of them were filling his head
with garden skills.  Each night he regaled us with whatever new thing he
had learned, and although Billy and I didn't hanker for such detailed
instruction in the matter of pest control (as it might be), or grafting
fruit trees, we listened and made the right sort of noises.  Later, when
his day had been laid out for us, the three of us began to make more
satisfying noises.  Jack thrived on all this.

Hester reported to me, as I'd asked her to do, on a weekly basis.  Her view
of Jack matched Jorrocks's.  "It will be a cruelty to keep him here, Sir,
once he's old enough to go to college."  This wasn't news I wanted to hear,
but at least the decision wouldn't have to be faced for four years or so.

Billy and I found Jack with his beloved pumpkins, now looking full and
healthy.  "When are you going to harvest them, Jack?" I asked.  "Late
September, Mr Jorrocks thinks.  It depends on the amount of rain we get in
the next few weeks.  Today's downpour will have been welcome."  This
13-year-old knew far more about our pumpkins that I did, and my heart
warmed to him even more.  "You're really happy here, aren't you," I said
quietly.  He looked up at me.  "You know I am, Dab.  I've never been more
happy.  You, Billy, all this," - his arms took in the entire Universe, not
omitting his (for he saw them as his) pumpkins.

As we walked on, our steps inevitably leading us towards ginger cordial,
Billy asked when I was going to let Jack read Bertie's documents.  "About
Amos, you mean?"  He nodded, "yes, he loves reading what Dodo called 'the
dirty stuff', and some family history might be interesting."  By this stage
Billy had virtually caught up with me, and was only a few pages behind.  I
was touched that Billy included Jack (and presumably himself) in 'family
history'.  I said I would think about it.  "That's what you always say,
Dab, and you always seem to agree with me about three days later."  "How
lucky I am, then, to have such a wise man for a lover."

Ginger cordial was provided, as was heartfelt gratitude for my wisdom in
finding such a successor as Hester.  I hadn't expected someone of
Jorrocks's age to welcome a female in his footsteps, but I did the man an
injustice.  Hester, it seemed, could do no wrong.  "What about the boy?" I
asked.  The old man smiled, proud of his protégé.  "He'll go
far, Master Dab, and you'll have your work cut out keeping him.  Kew
Gardens, that's where he ought to be in years to come."  Hester had implied
much the same.  It was alarming.



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The fun continues in Chapter 37 as I go back to school and find a new Pup.

Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped
nifty a few quid.
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