Date: Sun, 22 Mar 2020 20:47:38 +0000 (UTC) From: Peter Brown Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 47 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 =============================================================================== Chapter 47 We drove up to the door where McKenzie was waiting with two large keys. "I'll leave you gentlemen to look about," he said, "you'll be wanting to take your time." Rather to my surprise he produced a zipper and we exchanged numbers. "If you need me then if you zip I'll be here in a jiffy, but if you don't then let me have the keys when you've locked up. Will you be staying in the village?" It hadn't occurred to either of us that we would be sleeping anywhere other than in the house, so his question came as a shock. "Can we not sleep here?" I said. He chuckled. "You could at a pinch, but it's not been occupied for decades. All Mrs McKenzie and I are paid to do is see that it's secure - no broken windows or anything like that. I go in once a month and look in every room to see there's no water or any such thing, and I report to Mr Dunstable once a quarter. Surely he'll have told you." I smiled. "Yes, he's told me that the place is sound, and I thank you for looking after it, but I wasn't aware that it had been unoccupied for so long. When I was a boy I just assumed that it was lived in. Silly of me, I suppose, but then I was just a boy." It was McKenzie's turn to smile. "Ah well," he said, "you're a man now, and an hour or two looking about will tell you what needs to be done to turn it into a fit place to live." He paused. "Were you planning to live here yourself then?" I told him that I lived in Staffordshire, but that I would certainly expect to live at Inverthrum for part of each year. He sighed. "Well, you'll need deep pockets I'm thinking." During all this Billy had said nothing. As McKenzie was turning to go Billy asked whether we would be able to find accommodation in Lairg. "Ach yes, there will be no problem. When you return the keys Mrs McKenzie will have a great big list of all her cronies who will welcome you, I'm sure," and with that he climbed into his ancient chariot and sped - too vigorous a word perhaps - away. Billy and I went in. It was a good thing it was a bright sunny day, for the power was off. It smelt musty, but luckily there was no smell of damp or rot. We started with the ground floor. It wasn't as large as our house in Staffordshire, but was still big enough to cope with maybe ten people sleeping. There was a big kitchen which hadn't seen any new equipment for at least 80 years from the look of it; a scullery; a big dining room with a beautiful old oak table ("that could be worth a fortune," said Billy; I hadn't known he knew such things, but perhaps he'd picked them up under Dowland's tutelage) and 12 matching chairs. We have a solid oak table at home (at which King Edward VII sat, as you know), but this one looked about twice as heavy. Billy and I took hold of one end but we couldn't shift it at all. There was a big drawing room facing south and a morning room facing east. The architect had known his job, I thought. A study and a library completed the ground floor apart from a small, and surprisingly modern, shower room with a loo. "I wonder when that was put in," I said, "it's a lot more recent than the kitchen." It seemed a bit odd putting in plumbing, say 50 years ago, but not doing the kitchen. The wide staircase led onto a corridor going round the whole upper floor. It was by far the grandest feature of the house, and must have been highly unusual. "If there were children living here they'd have had a whale of a time chasing each other round and round here," said Billy. There were seven doors, two at the front, one on each side and three at the rear, facing north. The two bedrooms at the front were large, with big double beds. Each had had an en suite fitted, and these looked to have been done at the same time as the downstairs. "They must have had a plumber in for months," said Billy. "When did your great-grandfather die?" "A week before I was born, but he didn't live here when he was old. He was 96 when he died, don't forget. My grandfather died in 2002 and my father hopped it when I was 4. I don't think either of them lived here - there's no sign of money being spent anyway. I know old Bertie loved the place, but he can't have lived here since 1990 at the latest, or if he did he didn't have a cook willing to use that kitchen." The two rooms in the shorter sides of the house were smaller bedrooms, also with en suites. "The plumber must have lived in, Dab, they've spent a fortune. It must have been terrible before." And that was when we got the biggest surprise. The next door, the left-hand one at the back of the house, wouldn't open. Jiggling the handle had no effect. "It's been sealed, I think," Billy said. I went to the right-hand door and found it wouldn't open either. We met outside the middle door. We looked at each other, wondering whether some awful secret was hidden at the back of the house. "Feeling brave, Billy?" I opened the door. It was one enormous room the full width of the house. The three rooms had been knocked into one. At each end, in what had been large bedrooms, was an enormous bed with mirrored sliding-door wardrobes. The walls behind the bed-heads were mirrored too. The astonishment was what had happened in the middle. There was no window, but the whole room was covered with wet-wall, extending well into the bedroom ends. The floor was smooth and bare, but it was sloping down from all sides to a circular hole about 30cm in diameter, maybe 20cm below the level of the floors in the bedroom ends. There were two loos against the outside wall and two shower heads between them. And apart from the one by which we came in there wasn't a door to be seen. "What on earth is this?" said Billy, "it makes no sense." Suddenly I remembered what Bertie had written. Something about my finding the work he had done in 1972 to be of interest. If this - all this plumbing - was it, then it was certainly of interest, but what was it for? And he'd been there not that long before he died - 2010 had he said? And Bertie was an old rogue according to Mama. Bertie had put scurrilous material into my hand ... it began to ... "I know!" I said. I went to sit on one of the beds where Billy joined me. "Close your eyes, Billy, and think what we did with the sling." A smile appeared. "I think this room has been designed purely for pissing play. Everything needed is here apart from a sling. Look," and I pointed to the floor. Immediately above the drain were scuff marks. "I bet there's a sling in one of the wardrobes." We got up, Billy to one of the bedrooms - we had to think of them like that - and I to the other. He gave a whoop of joy. "Got it!" I went over to look. It was a bit rusty but otherwise seemed OK. It was a lot sturdier than the one we had, but it was of course a lot older. "What did Bertie say, Dab, can you remember?" I couldn't, beyond that he's talked in terms of "interest". "He must have been as queer as we are, Billy - well, we knew that, but we didn't know about this particular pleasure we share with him. I wonder who did all this work: not someone local, I bet." If no-one had lived here since Bertie's visit 27 years earlier the house was in remarkably good condition. It was musty, and most of the bedding would have to go, but if the windows had all been thrown open on a bright sunny day the place would have been inhabitable quite quickly. Inhabitable, but hardly comfortable. "I want to spend lots of time up here," I said, "once we get it fit again." Billy nodded, "the wild party we have with Jack and Dodo - Seb too, of course - will be quite something. Let's make a proper study of what needs to be done." "We need two or three days if we're going to do it properly, but there's no hurry. Let's go back to Lairg and tell McKenzie that we'll keep the keys for a few days. Then we can go to one of the B&B places his wife recommends and fix up - what - two nights?" "Make it three - no, hang on, two. Is there somewhere we can get enough bedding for one big bed? If so we can spend the third night here together." I love Billy even more when he has ideas like that. "We'll ask Mrs McKenzie, she's bound to know." ***** 48 hours later we had completed a very thorough inventory of what needed to be replaced, what needed to be completely modernised, and what else needed to be done. Two nights at the home of a Mrs Munro in Lairg had been comfortable (separate rooms, alas) and she had fed us with great gusto. Word had got around that the Inverthrum Laird was come among them: it was hoped that 'the big house' would be occupied again. I assured her that that was my intention, but that I was not intending to live there full time. "I shall be at university for three years, and we hope to come here every summer." Let the 'we' lie where it might be observed. Mrs Munro beamed. An examination of the bedding had revealed that there was enough which wasn't too mouldy to allow Billy and me a comfortable night in our new home. With regret we didn't put the wet room to use, but we both knew that once the repairs were done we'd be in one end of that room every night. After we'd made love and we were lying in each other's arms Billy kissed me gently. "I love it here, Dab. I bet your great-grandfather loved it too. You must look up what he says when we get home." "This is home too, Billy," I whispered, "yours as much as mine." ***** When we got back I had a long session with Dunstable in which we worked out how to get Inverthrum back into proper habitable condition. "Have you been there?" I asked. "Twice. Once when your great-grandfather asked me to go with him and inspect the place from top to bottom - in 2010, I think." I nodded, "yes, he mentioned that that was his last visit." "I went back again in 2025 as McKenzie advised me that there were one or two things requiring attention. There were a few broken windows and some slates off the roof - there had been a particularly fierce stormy winter. McKenzie got a local firm to fix them. Since then no-one's been from the Estate. Did you and Billy find any damage?" That was when I told him my - our - plan. He heard me out. "It will cost a great deal, Dab. Are you sure it's a wise expenditure?" I said we were planning to spend time there each year, and I had no idea whether it was wise or not. "But it's what I want to do. Can you think about how? We'll probably have to get people in from miles away as Lairg's only a small village." "Leave it with me. I will draw up plans and get estimates." He paused - an idea had come to him. "It's been empty, unoccupied and unheated for decades. If you're going to spend serious money on it you should have it lived in all year round, especially in the winter, otherwise it will start to decay. You say there was no smell of rot, but it can start from the smallest place water gets in. I'll have it properly checked. Think about how you'll have it staffed when you're not there, Dab, or it'll be money down the drain." I promised I'd think. Jack was away with the other two, so Billy and I had our bed to ourselves. It was quite like old times. Having Jack there was fun, but just being the two of us was something we both found we'd missed. The next morning I decided that if we were ever going to reach Bertie's part in the family history I would have to get on with my reading. I'd left Gabriel in bed with Amos and Seth, the 14-year-old keenly looking forward to being fucked by my great-great-great-grandfather in a bed in an inn in Melton Mowbray. +++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++ "Well, Gabriel, you've rested a while. Are you ready for me now?" I said. The boy's grin widened. "Yes, Seth," he whispered, "I've been ready since you walked into the inn." I made it my business to see that he was sufficiently well moistened to receive me, and thought it wise to check most carefully. His arse was gently leaking my Father's spending, even though I had attended to it but 20 minutes earlier. Amos planted his seed deep. "Tell me, Gabriel, do you serve many men in the inn as you serve us?" Gabriel giggled - a joyful sound, and one which on this occasion caused more evidence of my Father's presence to be dislodged. "My Master told me as soon as I could spend that part of my duties would lie as we are lying now, but he is kind and I am allowed to choose which men I will serve." Amos leaned over to ask how Gabriel's master had become aware that he could spend seed, and not squirm happily but without evidence. Another giggle (another memory of Amos). "He has been fucking me since he took me in as an orphan when I was but 9 years old. My mother was carried off and my father died in the Crimean War. My Master is my dear mother's brother, but you must not let him know you know." "Do you serve many then?" I asked as my tongue made its way up along the smooth underside of his cock. "None as pleasing as you, Seth, for what you are doing is ... aah! stop, for I shall spend and ..." (I had stopped) "... I wish to spend in your mouth after you have filled my arse." Amos laughed. "He will enjoy that, Gabriel, I promise you. Seth, what does it matter how many men the poor boy has to fuck him? Is it not evident that he doesn't wish to tell you. What he does want, 'tis very clear, is you to see to his present urgent need." It was my turn to grin. I gently rubbed the end of my cock in the wetness at Gabriel's arse, causing him to sigh mightily. "Oh Seth, yes, yes," he moaned. I decided not to tease him any longer, and I began to push my hot steel into him. "Ah, ah!" he murmured as inch by inch he felt me penetrate into him. Soon I was all the way in and I felt his balls touching my belly as I strove to get even deeper. He put his arms round me and his head was next to mine. "Fuck me, Seth," he whispered, "make my inside boil with the heat of your cock." "I shall, Gabriel," I whispered, "for your body makes me yearn to fill you with my spunk," and I began to withdraw a few inches. As I did so I could feel his arse tightening - striving to keep my cock deep within it, the better to enjoy the rushing sensations of bliss we were both having. In I went again, and the boy moaned deeply. Out, in ... the sighings and the moanings became deafening in my head (although in truth they cannot have been very loud, so Amos assured me after) and I began to feel the heat in my balls as they hastened to bring an outcome to their task. Faster and - could it be? - deeper I plunged into the hot furnace that was Gabriel's arse until with a mighty groan I felt the white-hot juice spurt up my cock and into his darkness ... again ... again ... six great gouts of lust lost in the depths of this beautiful beautiful boy. I held his head ... my lips sought his ... our tongues mated conjuring up even higher bliss ... until, as the little death passed and we both came down from our heights our tongues stilled their frenzy. I let him lie back on the bed and only then I saw that while I was mounting to my Paradise Gabriel had spent in the hot space between us, his spunk liberally coating our bellies. He grinned up at me, his eyes afire with merry mischief. "You're good, Seth, you're bloody good. In fact, you're the best fuck I've ever had." 'Twas praise indeed if the giver of it was indeed as practised as his uncle required him to be. "And you're the finest fuck I've had too," I said. At that moment it was true, at least of fucks of boys his age. I rolled over and lay on my back, my cock soft but still wet with my spending and the juices from Gabriel's arse. He knelt over me. "This must not go to waste," he murmured, and set about the delicious task (which I do not doubt he enjoyed as greatly as I) of seeking out and removing all trace of the matter on my cock - being Amos's spunk, mine own and the accommodating wetness of his own body. As he knelt I saw Amos move behind the boy to attend to his arse. As Gabriel felt fresh lips at his entrance he sighed again most pleasingly. It was fully half an hour before the three of us composed ourselves for sleep. ***** I am glad that Amos failed to record that night, for my revisiting it has brought much pleasure to me as I set it down - a pleasure I confess that has left me mightily aroused. I wrote earlier that I had suggested to Amos that I wanted a boy to have in my bed at home - he had his Arthur and I, then 23, sought company younger than either of them. You may wonder why I did not offer a position to Gabriel since my descriptions of our bedding him had been so satisfying to all three of us. And I have to tell you that I did just that, the very next morning. I sought the innkeeper and begged a few minutes of his time. I put a proposition to him, saying that I was much taken with the services Gabriel had rendered to me (and at the same moment passing a half-sovereign across the table) and that I had a vacancy for a bright boy at my house in Staffordshire. The good fellow gave a great sigh. "Gabriel has told me, Sir, that you and he make fine music together - nay - do not be alarmed for the music will go no further than my own ears. Alas I cannot part with him for he is my sister's son and I have promised to care for him till he be 16 years. It was her dying wish." Much as I would have wished to I could not in all conscience venture to argue against a dying wish, and I rose. "Our nights here will always be in my memory," I said, shaking the innkeeper's hand, "you have a lovely boy; treasure him." Amos and I rode away. I never saw the boy Gabriel again. ***** My desire for a boy did not abate, although I was in no very great hurry to replace the thought of Gabriel in my bed. The three of us moved our home from Wisbech, as Amos has already written, in the Autumn of 1875 and our daily lives became very different. What Amos did not write - for he never knew of it - was that my search for young companionship had proved successful, albeit not in the form I had originally planned. Amos has said that I took an interest in expanding the Estate's holdings beyond land, and that it became my strong belief that a well-balanced Estate should have investments in industry, in manufacturing, and in shops where the goods manufactured could be sold. Accordingly I made it my business to go into Stoke and seek advice on how this could be advanced. There I spoke with various professional men whose advice I was keen to hear - and (although this is not the place for a detailed setting-down of our affairs) the results were very fruitful. I reported all my findings to Amos and we agreed that cautious investments should be made. We agreed that I would engage a lawyer in Stoke, and all the arrangements were handled by him. By the end of 1877 we had invested over £100,000 in several businesses with 30 miles of Stoke, some in Uttoxeter itself. My time spent in Stoke had not solely been spent upon business affairs. On my first visit I stayed at a hotel towards the centre, but my business took me to several outlying parts, and I found a comfortable inn some two miles from the office of my lawyer. I removed there after two nights in the hotel. I confess that my desire to find accommodation in an inn was not wholly removed from my memory of the extra companionship available at the inn in Melton Mowbray, but my hopes were not fulfilled. Nonetheless the food was good and plentiful and the bed, if lonely, was of a good quality. On the second night there I fell into conversation with a fellow of my own age, a traveller in machinery of some kind who visited many towns in that part of England. As we were the only men of like age, and each found the other agreeable company, we talked well into the night as the ale kept us alert. By midnight we had become firm friends, and as we went to our chambers he said (his name was Robert) that we should talk again on the morrow. "Ay," I said, "I have enjoyed our talk, Robert, for I know no-one in Stoke." He looked at me, a little strangely, I thought. "And would you, Seth, know others in Stoke, I mean?" I made no quick reply, for it entered my mind that his words might have some concealed import. "I have enjoyed our talk, Robert, and would enjoy it again tomorrow, but are you perhaps suggesting another way to pass an evening?" By this time we were on the upper landing, outside his chamber, mine being some doors away. He said nothing, but opened his chamber door. I was surprised to see him, the door being full open, stand in the doorway in the manner of a footman ushering me in. I looked in his face; he made a tiny nod; I smiled and went in. After he had fucked me, and I him some time later, we lay side by side. "I must go to my chamber soon," I said, "for the bed must seem slept in." He chuckled, "it isn't necessary, Seth. The innkeeper is of our persuasion. I thought you must have known when you came here." "Indeed not," I said, "for it was chance which led me here, but a happy chance," and I turned to him, our lips meeting. "I must go," I said quietly. "Tomorrow, Seth, you and I will visit an establishment I think you will find interesting. Let us eat together, and at nine o'clock I shall conduct you to a place I know where I am sure you will find much to stir your loins." I wanted more, but he would not speak of it. "Tomorrow, Seth. Tonight was most enjoyable - tomorrow - who knows?" =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 48 as tomorrow's secrets are discovered. Drop me a line at badboi666@btinternet.com - that is after you've dropped nifty a few quid. ===============================================================================