Date: Fri, 20 May 2016 06:27:08 -0700 From: Jon Hold Subject: Modern Ranching M+T+ education, conflict, incest, ranch, cowboys, city boys, prolific authors Modern Ranching by Jon Hold Copyright ©2006, 2016 by the Author Jonhxold@earxthlink.next Once Upon A Time, It was actually my Dad's idea. I've just kept it going. It's surprising to me just how many of the really rich want their sons well educated, erudite, cosmopolitan. They want them to attend all the right schools and to make all the right contacts. Yet they really don't want their boys to grow up being snobs or sissies. Likewise wimps, wusses, washouts, asswipes, dumbshits, or shitbirds. Dad was raised on a South Dakota ranch, attended the local public schools and the only college he ever had was two years at the local community college. All of which made his success as a stock broker all the more amazing. He had an intuitive grasp of numbers and a natural understanding of how the stock market really worked. His most powerful tool to success though was a marvelous outgoing and sincere personality. He truly liked and cared about people, and people wanted to be liked by him. Dad's good looks, 6' 4" of beautifully muscled frame, and his truly magnificent cock and balls stood him in good stead. Especially since he had no hang-ups about sharing himself with his clients, female, male or unsure. Dad retired at 50 with approximately 10% more money than the IRS and took me to a ranch he had bought in the wilds of Montana. His current (fourth) WIFE flounced off to Europe in a snit, refusing to even consider living in the outback. I heard later that she'd had a nervous collapse when she discovered that the fine print in the marriage contract limited her to a one-time $5,000 settlement. My Dad had GOOD lawyers. He also had a spoiled, snobbish, uptight, too-good-to-soil-his-hands rich-bitches son on his hands. Dad completely renovated the ranch, updating all the buildings, putting in new fence wherever needed, sold and bought stock. He renovated my young ass at the same time, convincing me that he wanted a partner, not some sissified dandy for a son. What seemed like punishment at first became the best parts of my life. Dad burned all my tailored clothes and I still refused to wear the "plebeian" blue jeans and cowboy shirts he had bought for me. He took his belt off and, a little later, I went outside and did a hard days work under the blazing summer sun — with an ass that was bright red even before the sun got to it. When my tender feet started going lame, Dad let me put on the boots he had bought me. Other than that I had to go naked in front of all the construction workers and ranch hands. That was just the beginning of my transformation. I went from total embarrassment to actually enjoying the way all those men kept eyeballing me. One day I was filthy from cleaning out one of the sheds and whitewashing it. Dad took me into his shower and gently bathed me, not sparing my modesty by passing up my genitals or ass. When he carefully washed my butthole I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. My boner was beating against my belly, which didn't seem to bother Dad at all. He patted me dry and put lotion on my sunburned places. He even tickled me applying some to my butthole, both of us laughing as I (not very concentratedly) tried to escape. My every move foiled by his powerful muscles and quickness. Having my naked father rubbing against me, trying to poke a finger inside me, touching me and letting me touch him, well... I was almost more than I could take. Panting, Dad picked me up under his burly arm and carried me into his bedroom, telling me I was too strong for him (a base lie) and too quick for him (another lie). He laid down beside me in his monstrous huge bed and kissed me, patted me and caressed me. When I'd calmed down and still couldn't get to sleep, he, quietly and without fuss, took my throbbing boner into his mouth and did things to me that no-one had ever done before. I couldn't stand it. I grabbed his head and pumped his face — HARD! After the most wonderful ejaculation I'd ever experienced, I quickly dropped off to sleep. The next morning I woke up to the first glimmer of dawn. My father's heat beating into my heart and groin from where he lay curled up against my back. I lay there enjoying the sounds of early morning and the shared warmth created by my father and me. Slowly I became aware that a great part of my enjoyment came from a certain thick, hard protuberance from my dad's body that was heating up the crack of my ass. Without actually thinking about what I was doing, I had managed to back my hard young butt into my dad's groin, wedging what had become a stout erection between the smooth round mounds of my butt cheeks. Rubbing up and down just the tiniest bit stimulated my virgin flesh more than I had ever been stimulated before. Staring over the bedcovers, I finally focused on the nightstand --- and the nastiest idea crossed my mind. In ultra-stealth mode, I got the jar of Vaseline off the nightstand and opened it. Very carefully, I started coating dad's bloated meat with the thick grease. After several trips back the the Vaseline jar, Dad's cock was greasy and throbbing. I lifted my leg a bit and reached back between my legs. I was amazed at how wonderful it felt to touch myself back there. I thought it would be nasty, not the best feeling I'd ever had. Working a finger up inside of myself was an exercise in perfect delight. I kept focusing back and forth between the feel of my finger penetrating my never before penetrated hole and the wonder of being penetrated. The feeling of velvet softness and hardened slickness; moist warmth and dry roughness. As I was working on getting a fourth finger up inside me, absolutely bedazzled by the feelings I was generating inside myself, I became aware that masturbation was always great, but it had never felt nearly as good as this new game of fingering myself. I was trying to form four fingers into a cone that would penetrate my now super-needy butthole when I felt the head of Dad's cock in the palm of my hand. I'd been so self absorbed I'd really sort of forgotten that Dad was in bed with me. Well, providence is the mother of invention, and Dad's invention was just the right size and shape for what I needed/wanted to try. I wrapped my hand around Daddy's slick fullness and guided the bulbous end right up against my puckering, twitching hole. I guess I sorta really got focused on the unbelievable sensations that were wracking my body. Pushing with my hand, wiggling my butt all over the blunt head, nothing seemed to be helping me do any more than just sort of spread the lips of my ass far enough to let Dad's single eye peek inside. Then my brain burst with sensation. The cockhead was penetrating me. Spreading my hole, opening me, penetrating me deeper. I could feel it gliding up inside me. The pressure filling me, making me want to crap and cry and orgasm all at the same time. Some interminable and wondrous time later I hunched back a tiny bit and felt Dad's pubes crush against the delicate flesh of my behind. Horror! Panic!! Trying to struggle free!!! Crying out in shame and agony. It had finally soaked through my pleasure besotted brain that I was not alone. That I had not accomplished full penetration of my ass without assistance. One of my Dad's strong, furry forearms was clamped across my chest, fingers pulling and teasing my pert little tiny titty. The other was wrapped around my waist from above. Dad was nuzzling my neck and licking my ears, one leg up over my thighs as he scrunched us even closer together. "Good idea, Son," was all I heard as Dad began taking the rest of the morning to leisurely teach me all about getting fucked, a son's duty to his father, a father's duty to his sons, and just exactly why fathers and sons should get to know one another MUCH better. My final test was to prove to my Dad that I had learned what he was trying to teach me. As hard as I tried, it still took weeks of intensive study and practice before Dad was convinced that I could fuck him every bit as good as he fucked me, and I never once complained about all the homework involved, neither the classwork nor the rather strenuous lab work. Dad and I started working together as a team instead of constantly being at odds with each other. Dad got everyone together and told them that since we were in such an isolated place and there were nothing but men present, clothing would be optional. Anyone who had a problem with that could get their final check, with severance pay, and a free trip to town. Over the next several weeks housing assignments (four men to a cabin) changed quite a bit, as did the clothing worn. One carpenter whacked his rather long tool with a hammer and, after that, all the carpenter's wore shorts, Jockey's, or athletic supporters as well as their boots! At least to work. Angry outbreaks lessened and fighting virtually disappeared. One man got possessive and abusive and was asked to leave, but other than that everyone settled into the new plan very smoothly. I really enjoyed seeing the men strut their stuff, and enjoyed it even more when they'd get all horny for a boy—especially since I was the only boy available. That gave Dad the idea of doing the same thing for some of his (ex)clients with teen-aged boys. I was surprised, but there actually were people willing to pay (a lot) to have their sons taught some of the realities of life. The first that showed up were Thomas and Billy, fraternal twin brothers. Blond, blue-eyed, very shy. Thomas was a big, hairy kid with a really big bulge in his britches. Billy was just as short and smooth as Thomas was tall and hairy. Dad and I talked it over and Thomas was assigned to the cabin of four roughneck carpenters. Hard-charging studs all. They informed Thomas that he would start out as houseboy, responsible for keeping the cabin and their clothes clean and doing any other chores one of them might assign. The big kid told them to kiss his ass, there was no way he'd clean up after them. Thomas put on quite a show. Yelling and screaming, threatening my dad with all sorts of legal trouble. Dad just laughed and told Thomas to have a wonderful time. There was no telephone anywhere on the ranch and it was 25 miles to the county road and another 20 miles to the nearest house from there. Thomas ended up spending the night in the barn with no lunch or dinner. [One cabin. Four Carpenters. Four Beds. One boy. You do the math.] Billy was a different story altogether. He moved in with four guys who hadn't really paired up, they just bunked together. Billy was shy but the guys introduced themselves and told him he was supposed to be their houseboy. Billy said, "Fine," and then asked, "Are you guys really cowboys?" "Greg is," Tom said. "But I'm a plumber, Tony's an electrician and Brad, `Mr. Broadbent to you, is the general construction foreman. "WOW!" was Billy's only response as he stared up at 6'5" cowboy Greg, ignoring the other three men.. It wasn't a work day so the guys just sat around on the porch talking, keeping their hands busy with mending, whittling, or braiding. Billy watched and listened, especially to Greg. Billy thought lunch was great and really liked the cook, a hulking black guy who looked like a thug and talked like a college professor. After lunch Greg said that he had some chores to do down at the barn and Billy trotted along behind him, totally enraptured and willing to do whatever Greg told him to do. When they got to the barn Billy asked if he could help Greg do his chores. Greg, thoughtful and slow to respond, looked the light-in-the-ass boy over and sort of shook his head... In disbelief or denial Billy couldn't tell for sure, but he was sure that "No" was NOT an answer he wanted to hear, nor was he willing to accept an answer like that without a fight. "I'm a lot stronger than I look, and anything I do will be just that much less for you to do, right?!" Tall, lanky Greg shook his head again, but this time he was grinning. "You're right, Boy. Anything you do will be a help. But we're gonna be mucking out the stalls, so you better take those fancy duds off. You don't want to get them all mucky!" Billy didn't hesitate. He had no idea what "mucking out" meant, but he immediately took all his clothes off and hung them on a nail in the wall just like his new cowboy idol had told him. "Better put your boots back on. Don't need socks, jest y'er boots!" Motioning to the boy to follow him, Greg started off towards the stalls. "Mr. Greg. Don't you think you'd better not mess your clothes up?" "Nah. My clothes are used to getting dirty." "Yeah, but if I'm gonna be the houseboy that means I'm the one who'll have to wash them. And I don't want to wash no mucky clothes." Grinning, Cowboy Greg allowed as how what the boy said made sense so he hung his clothes up on top of Billy's and put his boots back on. Billy was staring, just standing there with his mouth hanging open. Greg said, "Come on, Boy. Ain't you never seen a naked man before?" Blinking. In shock. Totally out of character, honesty burst right through Billy's bemusement. Dick totally erect, the eager young man said, "Damn! NOBODY has a dick that big!" "I do!", chortled Greg. "Tell you what, Boy. You work good and I'll let you measure it yourself." "You mean you'll let me touch it?" "Don't see how you can measure it without touching me some. Do you?" "NO, SIR!", Billy happily exclaimed, following close behind Greg to learn how to muck out stalls. Greg was pleased with how the boy paid attention and how fast he learned. How he worked like a little demon trying to keep up with the man he obviously idolized. Billy only wasted about half the time staring at "his" cowboy as he worked. Three-quarters tops! Tommy was hiding out behind the barn when he saw his younger (by 17 minutes) brother come around the corner walking right behind a big, buff stud wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and some boots. Which was one hat more than his brother was wearing. They went out to the hose stand and washed each other, now wearing boners without the boots or hat. Billy used his hands to measure his cowboy's big cock while the cowboy was using the hose to clean out Billy's backside. They finally laid down in a thick patch of grass to let the sun dry them except Billy kept "measuring" his cowboy, using his hands, dick and mouth until the man came all over himself and Billy necessitating another trip to the hose-stand. After that the cowboy made Billy use his mouth to keep the mess under control for his next three orgasms. The other guys enjoyed clean living quarters and fresh, sun-dried clothes, but Greg was the only one with a warm and eager boy in his bed every night. Billy noticed how randy the other three guys were getting and asked Greg why they were so tense and short tempered. Greg explained mens needs and how him and Billy constantly having sex together affected them. Greg and Billy talked about the problem the next day and after dinner, when everyone was back in the cabin, Billy made a production out of stripping naked right in front of everyone. New-baby naked (Greg had shaved off every bit of hair below the boys ears) and boned to the max, Billy headed for the shower, four pairs of eyes locked on his every step. Smiling at all four men, Billy announced, "I'm gonna take a shower. Anyone who wants to join me is welcome—as long as they're polite." Billy then sashayed his young ass directly into the shower room. The men laid there, sort of paralyzed, looked at Greg, who just nodded towards the bathroom. Erections leading the way, the three roommates headed for a late night shower, loosing whatever they'd worn to bed along the way. Billy was waiting for them, already on his knees. ——- A veteran is someone who, at one point in their life, wrote a blank check made payable to The United States of America for any amount, up to and including their life.