WACO’S
LUMMOX
By
Waddie Greywolf
Chapter
68
"My
son, why hide your face in fear?"
"See
you not, Father, the Elf king?
The
Elf king with crown and flowing cloak?"
"My
son, it is a wisp of fog."
From:
Der Erlkonig by Johnny Goethe
Jimmy Joe knew
Rocky was living with Monty, but he had full assurance he would be
absent from Monty’s quarters for the evening. Shane and Cole
planned to put Rocky up for the night in one of their downstairs
bedrooms with its own bath. It seemed like everyone was in
cahoots to get Jimmy Joe and Monty together. Maybe, like Angus,
they
were feeling sorry for him for what he went through the last couple of
days without Burt. Their parting wasn’t pretty, but he didn’t
want Monty to know the lurid details right away. He didn’t want
the memory of Burt and his bad experience coming between them. If
Monty was to learn about it, Jimmy Joe wanted to be the one to tell him.
Angus figured
something was coming to a head when he invited his ramrod to spend a
couple of days at Mars Port as his guest and Jimmy Joe accepted in
front of Burt. Angus called it a retreat for them to get away
together to plan for the future of the ranch. He wasn’t fooling
either man. It was a nice way of putting it, but Jimmy Joe knew
Angus was growing more insistent he should be taking over Hoot Austin’s
job of weaning his ex-cowboy slave ramrod. The night after his
ramrod spent the night with
Monty, while they were fucking Coyote John, Angus noticed Jimmy Joe’s
rodeo scar was gone, his balls were bigger and hung much lower than
before. Later, when he asked Jimmy Joe about it, he explained,
but
Angus didn’t believe
him. After Shane confirmed it and Angus got feedback from him
about
Monty’s transformation at Mars Port, he knew for sure it was
true.
It lit a fire in Angus’ belly. He had to have his
ramrod’s
ass. It wasn’t for domination so much as he wanted a closer bond
with his top waddie. Angus watched the longshot do its number on
the
older cowboy, and like Cole Jenkins, he was becoming one of the hottest
buckaroos in West Texas. Jimmy Joe wondered if they would get
out bed for the two days. He didn’t care. It was
something he wanted, it was something he needed, and something he
couldn’t get from Burt. Jimmy Joe Russell was the undisputed
husband between him and Burt, but he had a tendency to allow himself to
become henpecked; or, as Angus so indelicately put it, pussy
whipped. After his one visit with Monty, Jimmy Joe decided he was
ready for Angus’ grand opening. Jimmy Joe watched his boss in
action many times with their cowboy slaves, and he was convinced he
would return from Mars Port with his butthole a very happy camper.
Burt was no
dummy. He knew exactly why Angus wanted to get his mate away by
himself. Burt blew up after Angus left and demanded to know about
all the things that happened to Jimmy Joe, and why he was now accepting
Master Angus’ invitation to Mars Port? There was much yelling and
posturing on Burt’s part. Jimmy Joe tried to calm him to no
avail. He knew if Angus heard him ranting, raving, and carrying
on, Burt would be history. For all Burt’s selfishness, he was a
steady fuck and a live in companion for Jimmy Joe. He wasn’t
ready to give that up just yet. Sure enough, Angus overheard
Burt’s explosion, he stealthily returned near a window outside to watch
and listen. When he heard enough, he burst into his ramrod’s
house without knocking. Angus looked like the bull of the woods;
his eyes were narrow and red, his nares were flaring, and his face was
bright red from anger. To the big man’s credit, he didn’t yell at
Burt or Jimmy Joe.
Angus very
calmly told Burt to gather his shit and return to his masters’ ranch
immediately; he was no longer welcome on his ranch. Burt forgot
his place as a slave and Angus would not tolerate such
insubordination or disrespect for his ramrod. Angus gave no
further explanation nor did he yell at Burt. He just stood his
ground so forcefully both men knew there were no more words
necessary. Burt knew he overstepped his bounds and Jimmy Joe knew
his boss well enough to know there was nothing he could say to make him
reconsider his decision. Angus told Jimmy Joe to stay in his
house, and he quietly walked Burt to the gate. After Burt passed
through, Angus deleted Burt’s access code to his gate. He walked
back to Jimmy Joe’s house and apologized, but told him he didn’t want
Burt on his property again unless he was accompanied by his masters.
During all the
angst and drama, all Ramrod Russell could think about was when he could
get away to be with Monty again. He didn’t know if he could wait
until the following Thursday evening, but being a cowboy with duties
and responsibilities, he knew he must. He wouldn’t jeopardize
his position for a minute. Angus heard about Jimmy Joe and
Monty’s trysts from his youngest brother. Shane was all enthused
about Monty and his new, budding relationship with Ramrod
Russell. Angus knew Jimmy Joe would be alone Sunday and took pity
on him. He told him to leave the ranch in the hands of their top
two lead cowboys and come with him.
Monty led Jimmy
Joe up to his bedroom. The first thing Jimmy Joe saw was his
boots on Monty’s orange crate altar. He was pleasantly amused the
boy didn’t try to hide his obvious prominent display of his boots as a
symbol of his sexual attraction and devotion for the object of his
affection. Jimmy Joe picked one up and admired it.
“Damn! I
hardly recognized ‘em.” he grinned, “Ya’ done a fine job
on ‘em, slave. They look almost brand new. I think a good
slave should take care of his master’s boots for him.” he said
seriously, then added, “Especially, if he cares about him.”
“I couldn’t
agree more, Master Russell. If I needed an excuse, that would be
as good as any.” Monty said equally serious without nuance.
“You don’t need
an excuse, slave?” Jimmy Joe looked nonplused.
“Naw, Sir, I
jes’ love boots. That’s enough in itself, but it makes it extra
special when they belong to a cowboy I come to care about.” Monty
stated honestly. “All cowboys love their leathers and their
boots. They’s not only clothing but also tools of their
trade. It’s a necessary part of their lives. You can’t live
on a ranch, work cattle every day, be in and out of a saddle, and wear
marshmallow pumps and designer jeans. It soon becomes apparent
you need heavy-duty protective clothing. Cowboy’s invest large
sums of their hard earned low wages to buy the best they can own what
speaks to them, their personalities, their strengths, their beliefs and
the finer points that complete their persona. Just as a bird is
known for its wings, a cowboy is known for his boots. Their
personal caparisons, of which boots are a part, become them, and they
take on the personality of the wearer, but just as a cowboy’s
boots become an extension of his personality, they also take on the
personality of their owner until they form an almost symbiotic bond
with each other.
The oldest pair
of boots in any cowboy’s closet are filled with precious
memories. Even though they may look worthless to you and me, they
are too wonderful for him to throw away. He will take them out
and pull them on several times a year like he might visit an old friend
to remember the good times they had together. Some think boots
are soul catchers for cowboys. They believe the energy Chakras
from a cowboy’s body gravitate downward and collect in his boots.
Why do you think most cowboys wanna’ be buried with their boots
on? H’it ain’t ‘cause they paint their toenails.” Monty chuckled,
“When any man intrusts his boots to my care, it ain’t only a
responsibility, it becomes an obligation, a sacred trust. They
must be shown the respect and reverence they’s due. It becomes an
experience bordering on the mystical. They become sacred vessels
which once contained the essence of their owner. They hold a
small but separate part of the cowboy’s life-force what left ‘em in my
trust.” he smiled at Jimmy Joe.
“Is that why you
got them on this orange crate?” Jimmy Joe asked.
“Yes, Sir, the
orange crate becomes more than just a place to put them, it becomes a
central focus of the room. It draws attention to itself as a
place of honor. It becomes an altar for securing and protecting
the Chakra’s caught inside the boots. It says, the essence of the
life-force, which vibrates around and sometimes fills a pair of boots,
is worthy of admiration, and their handsome, strongly masculine good
looks should be appreciated and respected just like their owner.”
“Is that why the
candles are placed around them?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir, the
candles are to ward off evil spirits when I’m paying homage by
making love to them.” Monty admitted shamelessly.
“And have you
made love to ma’ boots, slave?” Jimmy Joe fished.
“Every night
before I go to bed, Sir, and every morning before I leave my quarters.”
“Is ‘zat why you
urged me to leave ‘em with you with a promise to clean and polish ‘em
for me, jes’ so’s you could make love to ‘em?” he grinned.
“It is,
Sir. Any job worth doing should have a fringe benefit, but
there’s more to it than that. You wanted to leave a part of
yourself behind like any animal might mark his territory. What
stronger statement than to leave such a personal item behind in my
care? You were secretly hoping they would remind me of you while
we were apart. They were also a good reason to reunite us again
if only to give them back to you. Naturally we both hoped for
more, but in this world you never know.” Monty finished and stood
silent for a few seconds. Jimmy Joe was stunned by the
understanding, sensitivity and the intelligent way the young man
expressed himself and his ideas.
“Tell me about
the man what makes boots?” Jimmy Joe asked like a man seeking wisdom
from a prophet.
“Not all boots
are created equally, Sir. Even some individual leather
craftsmen don’t make boots of equal quality. It depends on the
talent, the skill, the heart and how much love the maker puts into
them. Manufactured boots are a product of a corporate mass
mind. The are made in large quantities to make as much money as
they can without much thought to quality. They are as soulless as
the corporations and the machines what make them. Any serious
buckaroo will seek out an individual boot maker who puts a part of his
soul into every pair he makes. Is there any doubt in your mind
there’s a part of me what dwells inside them boots you be wearing?”
“I ain’t thought
about it until you said it, but think’n on it, I have to say there
ain’t no doubt in my mind. No, none whatsoever, Son. I’m
convinced. I’m a believer. I ain’t had ‘em off since I put
‘em on here Thursday night except to shower and then I carried ‘em into
the bathroom with me and locked the door behind me. It’s not like
me to wear the same pair several days in a row. I wear a
different pair every day. I thought you’s bullshit’n me there for
a minute, but I’m beginning to see what you’s talk’n about. I may
have been a skeptic at first, but some of the things you said got a
ring of
truth to ‘em. If not, I done made friends with the best fuck’n
bullshit artist this side of the Brazos.” Jimmy Joe laughed. “I know
one damn thing, like I done told ju’ they fit ma’ feet and wrap around
my legs like they’s make’n love to me.”
“‘At’s what I
made ‘em to do.” Monty smiled.
“Does that mean
you’ll take care of my other boots for me, slave?”
“It would be an
honor, Sir. You can rotate ‘em if you like. Just as long as
you leave a pair here for me to show my love and pay homage to when
you’s away.” Monty
said sincerely.
Jimmy Joe’s old
dick instantly got hard. Why would the kid’s willingness to
please him and take care of his boots cause a sexual response? To
say he was bemused wasn’t strong enough. He was
flabbergasted. He understood what ‘fetish’ meant but Monty’s
ideas went beyond mere sexual aberration. His explanation
bordered on adoration. He wondered if Monty’s faith in him might
be misplaced. He didn’t see himself as anything special. He
was just a plain old, brown dirty cowboy who knew about cowboying,
wrangling horses, cattle and slaves, but he knew nothing of the world
Monty came from or existed within. Yet, why was he so drawn to
this young slave? Jimmy Joe didn’t want to say what was running
through his head, but he was thinking he was getting a damn-sight more
appreciation and respect from Monty than he ever got from Burt.
Since he became a freeman and a ramrod, he could remember Burt going
through the motions of the slave ritual and paying homage to his boots
only once in over a year. Burt would never consider touching one
of Jimmy Joe’s boots let alone to clean or polish them for him.
Burt got upset when Jimmy Joe wore his new buckaroo boots to bed.
He was going to fuck Burt while wearing them, but Burt called him an
old
pervert and wouldn’t let him. He suddenly got a headache.
Earlier in the
day, right after they arrived at the ranch, Shane and Cole called Angus
and his ramrod into their house to share with them the heroics of Monty
on Mars, rescuing his beloved little sister. Angus and Jimmy Joe
were as amazed as anyone, but Jimmy Joe felt intimidated by what
he saw. He panicked and got it in his head Monty was way out of
his league. He knew the young man was special, but this was
beyond his comprehension. He was ready to walk down to the old
barn and go through the gate to return to his small world. Angus
set him down and talked with him like a Dutch uncle and called him a
crazy old fool if he didn’t follow through with what he started with
Monty. Shane and Cole were ‘amening’ everything Angus said like a
bad
Greek chorus. They insisted Monty was so impressed by Ramrod
Russell he walked around in a mental fog for several days. They
went
so far as to show Jimmy Joe brief snippets of Monty kneeling before his
orange crate altar and making love to his ramrod’s boots in
private. That softened his big cowboy's heart and brought tears
to
Jimmy Joe’s eyes. His thoughts of empathy and protection went out
to the boy.
Shane and Cole
assured him Monty had a couple of surprises for him he learned from
Master Jesse and Utah he couldn’t wait to share with him. They
wouldn’t be specific, but they told him they knew he would enjoy
them. The more the ramrod learned about Monty the more he admired
and fell in love with the young man. Just being in his presence
and the ease with which they related to one another was enough to make
him feel like a coward from his earlier feelings. Angus was
right, he was an old fool. Jimmy Joe was around long enough
he knew when a man was bull-shitting him. He could detect no
mendacity or deceit in this young slave. Monty was giving,
sincere and honest. He didn’t try to play people to get something
from them. He made himself the best he could to be accepted on
his own merits. One thing Ramrod Cole said to him stuck in Jimmy
Joe’s
mind.
“Y’ain’t got
chore’self no idea what you got a’ holt’ of with that boy,
Ramrod. Can you imagine how alone and isolated Monty’s felt all
his life because he’s so different. The one basic way he ain’t
different from us is he needs someone to care about him; someone
special for him to love; somebody he can give his’self to without
feeling like they’s try’n to suck him dry. Seems to me like you
was recently in the same fix, but hell, we all need the same damn
things. We see what Monty’s going through, but he needs some’um
more’n anybody around here can give him. To be blunt, he needs a
daddy. He needs a cowboy like you what can show him how to become
a good man, and you know what, Ramrod? Ain’t another cowboy in
West Texas what’s got his-self a bigger, deep-seated need to be a daddy
than yore’self. I never understood that sort a’ thing until ma’
boy pointed it out to me a couple a years ago. Slave or no, I
can’t imagine myself living my life any other way than being Shane’s
pa, and no matter what the future brings I will be his daddy until he
don’t need me no more.
Burt would
never let you be his daddy, although you tried yore’ best to be.
Burt
would be passive in yore’ bunk, but there was never any doubt in
anybody’s mind, he was always in the driver’s seat. ‘At’s why
you’s always so frustrated with him. He never would listen to you
or let you be the leader. We’s all bet’n when you’d git chore’
craw full and send him pack’n. I bet ma’ boy, here, you
never would, ‘cause you’s too faithful. Guess what? I
won! I won, ‘cause I know’d how much you believe in the cowboy
way.” Cole grinned, “You never would’ve neither unless Master Angus
hadn’t ordered Burt off his ranch. To my way a’ think’n, cowboy,
Master Angus done saved yore’ life. You and Monty is try’n to
navigate the rough waters of the oceans of life alone in two small
boats, when you could be together sailing high above the choppy seas in
a luxury liner. That boy needs you, and you shore’ as hell need
him.” Cole said looking him hard in the eyes. Jimmy Joe felt
overwhelmed when Shane and his bossman broke up laughing and agreed
with Cole.
* * * * * * *
“What can I do
for you this evening, Master Jimmy Joe?” Monty asked.
“I was hoping we
might spend some time together in yore’ bed, slave.” he responded.
“I’d like that
very much, Sir. I need to clean myself. Do you mind waiting
for a few minutes?”
“I don’t mind a’
tall.”
“Would you like
a cup of coffee?”
“I would.
I’ll take off my clothes and relax while you’s in the shower?”
“Certainly,
Master Russell. My home is your home, Sir. Make yourself
comfortable.”
Monty made his
ramrod a cup of coffee and brought it to him. Jimmy Joe removed
his clothes and was sitting on Monty’s bed wearing only his buckaroo
boots. He looked stunning. Monty set his coffee on his
night stand next to him.
“May I take care
of your boots before I shower, Master.” Monty asked.
“I’m sure they’d
appreciate it, slave. I know I would.” he grinned.
Monty got his
cleaning equipment and rags. He knelt before Jimmy Joe’s boots
and cleaned them good. He took his time and finished by buffing
them to a deep luster. He took
each one and lovingly paid homage to it. He watched as Jimmy
Joe’s big dick grew to a larger size as it became engorged with
blood. Having his boots cleaned and paid homage to was highly
sensual to him. He wondered if Monty didn’t have some further
inside information about the psychology of a cowboy and his boots he
was withholding from him. He thought a lot about their earlier
conversation. Bits and pieces were falling into place to make a
lot of sense. Monty excused himself and went to his shower.
He turned on his radio to his favorite country and Western station and
turned it down low. He made his ramrod another cup of coffee
before he left.
Jimmy Joe lay
back on Monty’s bed and pulled the soft down comforter over him.
He couldn’t remember a time when he’d been more relaxed and comfortable
with another person. It was nice to be with someone so agreeable
as Monty. Burt was always upset with him about something.
It was difficult to come home in the evening, listen to a constant
harangue and then make love to your mate. That was the
problem. They didn’t make love. Jimmy Joe would finally
have his fill, either order Burt to suck him off, or he would
forcibly rape Burt’s ass. He wondered if Burt didn’t push him to
the limit just to get Jimmy Joe riled up enough to rape him and take
out his frustrations by giving him a hard fucking. Burt used sex
as a weapon and Jimmy Joe would make a counter assault on his throat or
his ass. Funny thing was, it was about the only thing Burt never
complained about. Monty wasn’t gone long when he returned to join
his ramrod. He was wearing his terrycloth robe and had it tied up
around his middle. Jimmy Joe raised the comforter for Monty to
join him, but Monty set on the edge of the bed instead.
“Before I get
into bed with you there’s something I have to tell you, Master.”
“All right.”
replied Jimmy Joe.
“Since our night
together and the changes I made to yore’ body, I learned more about my
gift. Cable, David and Jonathan, Master Jesse and Utah helped me
understand what it is and how best to use my talents.”
“Your master
showed me and Master Angus a video of you saving Maxine at Mars
Port. It was pretty impressive. You were a hero, but I’m
afraid it made me feel insignificant. It made me wonder what you
could possibly see in a dumb old cowboy like me.” Jimmy Joe lamented.
“You mustn’t
think that a’ way, Master. I see a good man, Sir, a fine
cowboy. One of the finest men I ever run across. It would
destroy me to think you might turn away from me because of my gifts.”
Monty turned his head away from him. Jimmy Joe saw his words
really hurt the kid. He raised up and threw his arms around Monty
and held him tight.
“I promise, I
won’t. Kiss me, boy. Show me your love.” he said strongly
like he was taking charge. Monty turned into his strong arms and
they shared a good kiss. “What do you have to tell me, Son?” he
asked.
“It’s probably
best if I show you. Sit here on the edge of the bed, Sir.” he
indicated for Jimmy Joe to sit up with his boots on the grass mat on
his floor. Monty stood in front of him and slowly undid his
robe. He pulled it back to show Jimmy Joe his perfect little
cunt. The ramrod gasped.
“My God, boy,
what happened to yore’ cock and balls?”
“They ain’t
gone, Master, I just been taught to morph my genitals. Just
like I made your balls bigger, I made my cock smaller to become a
clitoris and my balls are temporarily stored in my abdomen. I
asked Master Jesse and Utah to teach me how to make one for you.
I wanted this for you, Sir.” he explained. He watched as the
cowboy raised his hand to touch it and then pulled away. “Don’t
be afraid, Sir, it’s yours to do with as you please.”
Jimmy Joe didn’t
need a second invitation. He was on his knees, threw his arms
around Monty’s waist and butt, and buried his face in Monty’s little
pussy. It was a highly emotional experience for the old
cowboy. It was the first vagina he’d seen in over twenty
years. Tears were steaming down his face as his tongue worked
Monty’s small man in the boat and filled his heavy mustache with
juices. Jimmy Joe wasn’t a quiet cunt eater. He was making
all sort of ‘Ummm’ and gurgling sounds, ‘Arraaggulgg’ and ‘Oh,
yeah’ sounds as he’d take a breath and dive back in. His tongue
was driving Monty crazy. Jimmy Joe stopped for a minute.
Monty looked down to see his ramrod’s penis harder than he ever saw him
before. He couldn’t understand why Jimmy Joe would worry about
Angus Goodnight when he, himself, was a magnificent specimen of a
man. Monty couldn’t wait to feel his ramrod inside his new
orifice.
“Oh, Son, this
is so good. It even smells and taste like the real thing.” he
said.
“It is the real
thing, Master Russell. It’s a real cunt. It was custom
designed for your penis.”
“I don’t
understand.” he looked puzzled.
“I had your
genetic information inside me from swallowing your come and your
several deposits up my ass. I morphed into a copy of you in
sickbay on the Bandersnatch so Master Jesse and Utah could see your
penis and teach me how to create a vagina to fit; sort of a snatch to
match.” Monty giggled, “It’s a perfect fit for your dick, Sir.
It’s like a tight case for a fine fiddle.”
“Son of a
bitch! Christmas done come early!” he exclaimed. “Can we try it?”
“Sure, but I
hope you’ll be gentle. You’re my first. I’m a
virgin. We might have to use some lubricant.”
“Oh, my God, it
will be a first for both of us. I ain’t never had me no virgin
before. Of course I’ll be gentle.”
Jimmy Joe was
good to his word. Monty made certain he was properly lubed.
The ramrod very gently broke through Monty’s hymen and slowly proceeded
to greater depths. It was a wonderful sensation for both of
them. It didn’t take the old cowboy long to understand what Monty
was talking about when he used the term ‘custom cunt.’ Monty’s
vagina felt like the perfect fit of a fine pair of suede gloves, but
this was one long glove made especially to receive and pleasure his
penis. He thought to himself, no cowboy could wish for
more.
It was the most incredible feeling Jimmy Joe ever experienced.
Little by little, inch by inch Jimmy Joe carefully moved into his new
home. He decided he might like to stay for a while and make it
his own. Monty was in a state of ecstasy he never encountered
before. He couldn’t imagine how wonderful his ramrod would feel
inside him. When Jimmy Joe whispered his slave had his all
resting within him, Monty let out a sigh of contentment.
“You feel so
good, Master.” he breathed softly. “Is it like you remembered, Sir?”
“I never
remember it being this fine, slave.”
“Do you like my
present, Ramrod?”
“More than I got
words to tell you, Son.” he laughed, “It’s strange, here I am fuck’n
probably the finest little cunt I ever had, but I don’t think on you a
woman. To me, you’re my talented slave-boy what has offered his
master a wonderful gift. This has to be the supreme act of giving
to give up your own masculinity for a while to please and satisfy your
master. How does it feel for you, boy?”
“Like you
complete me, Master. Like you’re filling me with all your
goodness. I could sleep all night keeping you warm inside me.”
They lay
together for a while with Jimmy Joe taking a gentle stroke from time to
time. Each time Monty would moan or groan at his ramrod’s
strength. It seemed like Monty was getting tighter with each
stroke of his penis, and Jimmy Joe worried he might be hurting the kid.
“Is it
uncomfortable for you, boy?” he asked after a good long stroke.
“Lord, no,
Master. I’m just keeping myself as tight for you as possible to
give you as much pleasure as I can. Don’t be afraid. You
ain’t gonna’ hurt me none. If’n you do, I’ll let you know.
It’s time my cowboy rode me like he rode my ass the other night.
Take me, ramrod. Take all you need.”
“Do you think
you can come from me fucking you?”
“Ain’t no doubt
in ma’ mind, Sir. ‘Sides, I made a few improvements on my cunt
women don’t have. You jes’ do the fuck’n and leave the rest to
me.”
Jimmy Joe began
to fuck Monty the way he remembered from his past. It was like
roller skating, riding a bicycle or even a pony. Once you
learned, you never forgot. Jimmy Joe found his mind drifting to
the good times of his youth, back across what seemed like eons of time
and other sensual feelings over the years. All had their merits,
but fucking Monty’s cunt was like a fine dessert, a fine brandy and a
good cigar after a wonderful meal. Monty’s eyes glazed over at
the onslaught of his ramrod’s roaring hard penis. He couldn’t
imagine Angus Goodnight could bring him more comfort than his
ramrod. Of course, he never planned to offer his vagina to Master
Goodnight. Angus had a wife; his own cunt to fuck. No, he
decided he would only offer it up to his ramrod and perhaps his two
cowboy slave dads, but only if Ramrod Russell agreed. Since Monty
found he
could morph he had more perverted thoughts than a dog has fleas.
Maybe they weren’t so perverted as they were inventive or delightfully
deviate. Certainly it would differ from the participant to a
casual observer. Is there such a thing as a casual observer when
witnessing sex? An oxymoron, perhaps, or a new oxygen bleach for
idiots. With new parameters it creates new paradigms, or as Monty
decided to think of it, theme and variations. Jimmy Joe was about
to reach his eighteenth variation; slow inverted retrograde; physical
and emotional pay dirt.
One of Monty’s
more stimulating variations was to share his bed with big Bart and
Telly and get fucked from both sides. Having a vagina and a
prostate gland would surely have its greater benefits. Monty’s
mind began to drift to his relationship with Shanna and wondered if he
felt as good to her as Jimmy Joe Russell was feeling in his
vagina. He wondered if he was large enough to satisfy, but
vaguely recalled growing larger when he was inside her. He
thought it was his imagination, because his penis was more stimulated
and consequently became more engorged with blood. He smiled to
himself. Now, he wasn’t so sure. He remembered how Shanna
moved under him to give him the most pleasure she could, and he found
himself copying her moves under his ramrod. Each time, Jimmy Joe
would let out a sigh or moan of pleasure to let Monty know how much his
participation was appreciated. Monty kept it up until he
was worried Jimmy Joe might shoot too soon. He didn’t want him
coming right away. Monty’s cunt was hungry. Jimmy Joe just
got it broken in. Monty wanted more of the big, fine, fully
erect, aged, prime, grade-A cowboy beef that was packing his
pussy.
“You git’n tard,
my sweet slave?” Jimmy Joe asked as he stole a kiss or two.
“I ain’t doing
the work, Ramrod. You’s the one what’s work’n up a lather.
I’m doing ma’ best to help, but how long we go is up to you. I’m
good for another hun’nert miles or so.” Monty hugged him tightly
and locked his legs around Jimmy Joe’s small, well formed butt.
“I wondered why
my bossman insisted I spend the night and come home in the
morning. Now I know. He knew some’um I didn’t.” Jimmy Joe
laughed. “His little brother done told him about yore' gift for
me. They hinted around about you having a surprise for me, but
they never let on it was some’um s’wonderful as this.”
“You gotta’ go
home this evening, Master?” Monty asked disappointed.
“I told him I
would, but that was before I knew about chore’ gift. Since he
done told me he’d take care of things, I think it’ud be all right if’n
I
stayed. I think he was count’n on me staying anyways. We
won’t have to rush none, and I can break in yore’ sweet little pussy
real good for ya.’” Jimmy Joe kissed Monty deeply as he moved around
inside him for a couple of long, deep strokes. Monty was in
ecstasy and moaned his approval. They fucked for a couple of
hours, stopping from time to time to relax, until Jimmy Joe said he had
to get his rocks or he was afraid his dick might drop off. Monty
told him he didn’t want that, but if it should happen he wanted it to
fall into his cunt so’s he could give it a good home and take care of
it for him. Jimmy Joe was the consummate cowboy lover and fucked
Monty until he was sure the young man was about to climax. When
he felt the extra moistness and Monty’s cunt opened to him like flower
on a hot summer’s day, he knew he was ready.
He felt himself
building to his own climax and rode his partner down hard until he
emptied all his hot cowboy goodness into his slave-boy’s cunt.
They were fucking in the missionary position, but Jimmy Joe rolled them
onto their sides. He remained inside Monty for sometime.
They continued to make love in the afterglow of their coupling talking
softly and enjoying each other's company. Finally, Monty told
Jimmy Joe he should probably douche himself. Jimmy Joe
reluctantly withdrew from his slave’s warm cavity. Monty took
great delight in cleaning his master with his mouth. After he
finished he went to his shower and cleaned himself. When he
returned he brought a warm, damp cloth to further clean his
ramrod. Jimmy Joe seemed appreciative. They decided to
get an early start to sleep and wake up early to have another round in
the morning. Monty set his coffee machine an hour earlier than
usual. He helped his ramrod off with his boots. They
quickly went to sleep, but late in the night Monty felt Jimmy Joe
nudging him. He felt his ramrod’s hard penis poking him in his
back. Monty rolled over and gently guided him into his
vagina. They held each other and slept hooked together in an
embrace the rest of the night. When Monty heard the click of his
coffee maker he began to move about and slowly woke his master.
Jimmy Joe gave Monty the fucking of his dreams. He was slow,
strong, but gentle and had him begging for release. It was a
powerfully moving experience for both.
Monty brought
them coffee and got his ramrod into his shower to pamper him. It
was obvious Jimmy Joe wasn’t used to such attention, but he soon came
to enjoy and appreciate it. While they were in the shower Monty
morphed back to his male appearance so Jimmy Joe could observe his
transformation. He was amazed, but not so threatened by Monty’s
abilities anymore. They were through with their morning ablutions
early, and set together finishing their coffee before walking to the
big house for breakfast.
“Where do we go
from here?” Jimmy Joe asked rhetorically.
“I don’t know
what’s going on in your world, Ramrod, but I’m grateful you could spend
some time with me. Like I said, I’ll take what I can git.
I’m open to whatever time you can spend with me.” he said quietly.
“That’s
good. This Thursday evening, for sure. Count on it, Son.”
he winked at Monty.
“I’ll look
forward to it, Sir.” Monty spoke softly.
Before they
walked out the door, Jimmy Joe took Monty into his arms and kissed him
gently.
“Thanks for
everything, Son. I couldn’t ask for a greater gift of love than
what you gimme’ last night and this morning. I won’t require that
of you all the time.” Jimmy Joe allowed. “I can appreciate you and love
you just as much as a man.” the old cowboy allowed.
“How ‘bout once
a month, birthdays and special holidays?” Monty smiled.
“Sound’s good to
me.” Jimmy Joe agreed.
The sun was
barely creeping over the horizon as they walked across the meadows to
the big house for breakfast. They were warmly welcomed and set
down to a wonderful breakfast. Talk was lively about what was to
be accomplished for the week. Shane had several things he wanted
Monty to get done. Nothing was said about Jimmy Joe and Monty
spending the night together, but before Ramrod Russell left to go
through the gate, Shane told him he was welcome to visit any time he
could get away. Jimmy Joe thanked him. Monty walked his
ramrod to the old barn to the gate. Thus began regular visits
from Ramrod Russell to the ranch and Monty’s quarters. They
formed a tight bond which became a mutual support for each other
through the good times and the bad. Jimmy Joe went to Mars Port
with his boss, but he was pleasantly surprised. While he did get
the b’jesus fucked out of him several times, Angus saw to it they had
plenty of time for relaxation, recreation and touring the wonders of
Mars. Jimmy Joe came back in better spirits than he was in a
long time. Jimmy Joe was pleased his bossman approved and
encouraged his budding relationship with Monty, but Angus drew the line
with them living together. He thought it was unwise for the time
being, and Jimmy Joe had to admit he was right. He was learning
to enjoy his time alone which seemed to enhance his appreciation of his
time with Monty all the more.
* * * * * * *
The little stick
turned blue. Scudder was pregnant. Austin Taycious was
having a ball thinking up names for himself as the child’s
godwhatever. ‘Auntie Austin’ was his favorite, but he also had a
fondness for ‘Mother Taycious.’ It sounded very serene and
cloistered. He wondered how he might look in a habit. He
thought it was all very ‘Sound of Music’ and would go around humming
“How do you solve a problem like Maria.” Scudder was pleased he
was pregnant, but ready to throttle Taycious for his overwrought
imagination. He could be like Disney on steroids, but Scudder
needed him more than ever if he was going to cover up his delicate
condition. New clothes had to be considered, and he was concerned
the clothiers might become suspicious. He thought he could get
away with claiming poor eating habits and rapid weight gain. Who
would believe the Holy Prophet was pregnant? He needed some kind
of prosthetic device to make him look like he had a penis in case he
had to strip to his underwear. Austin had connections. He
knew everyone in the world of kink and managed to get a device dykes
used. It was sort of a double-dong device that would fit up
Scudder’s cunt but on the outside it had a real looking cock and balls
that would hang in place. Scudder dismissed it out of hand.
He wouldn’t even try it until Austin called in Commander Hawkins and
Officer Jones and they talked with him.
Jones worked with Scudder and carefully inserted it for him.
Norman was surprised at the comfort and
sensuality of the device. He began to wear it quite often.
It did give his pants the proper ‘mission accomplished’ look of his
dickless, crotch stuffing, pom-pom waving predecessor. It gave
him that ‘in charge’ bull-of-the-woods look. It announced, in no
uncertain terms: you must do what I say because I have a big package
that delivers hot nukes on command, and if you fuck with me I’ll bend
you over and ram a stiff one up your butt. Scudder was quoted as
saying: It only takes a
small missile to start a war, but a big one to win it. He was
only slightly more quoted than Bush. Once Dubya’s minions had him
sainted by his own church, they promptly forgot about him. His
ignorance and stupidity was swept under the political carpet. He
became the patron saint of golfers because of his ultimate sacrifice of
giving up the game to show his support for the families who suffered
the terrible lost of a son or daughter because of his false oil wars
which he lied to the American people about. Only history will
know whether he was a better cheerleader or president. His
contemporary critics insisted he was a consummate failure at
both. Either way, he was the ultimate coward. He was
neither man enough to be on the line of the college gridiron nor the
front line of combat. Even though he’s long been interred, he’s
still listed as missing or AWOL by the Mississippi Air National
Guard. Fortunately, for the country, no one misses him
anymore.
* * * * * * *
Shanna Ruggles
was in her third trimester. While her mother was supportive, her
dad withdrew from her. He had little to say to her and treated
her like a pariah. Charlie Ruggles didn’t like the idea of her
giving birth to a bastard's child, having to be saddled with the
expense
and bother of raising a bastard kid, but neither was he willing to
have it aborted. He was, however, willing to give it up for the
government’s new baby genius program. It was a new program in
which scientist could test a child while still in its mother’s womb to
determine its IQ potential. If it tested high enough the family
was paid large sums of money and the baby was taken away at birth to be
tended by special government caretakers who would carefully raise,
groom and educate the child to reach its maximum potential for the
greater good of humanity and the neo-conservative party. At least
that’s how the government sold
the idea to the public. They hinted they were creating a super
race of humans for the good of mankind. Of course, every child
they tested had an IQ that was off the charts. The truth was,
they would take any baby but paid the same price for all. It was
the government’s underhanded way of harvesting succulent young babies
for their reptilian overlords.
Someone came up
with an idea to innoculate the babies with a deadly virus which would
be specie specific and spread rapidly throughout the Reptilian
population decimating their race. Perhaps then, they would
withdraw and leave Earth alone. Unfortunately, over the years the
fundamentalist Christianist rounded up those research scientist who
were doing
honest science and sent them to Cheney camps as heretics and
nonbelievers. Real scientist didn’t believe in intelligent
design, also known as creationism. They knew it was a
fraud. Since religion and science are incompatible, most
scientist were admitted atheist and worked hard to bring sanity and
reason back to their country only to be committed to Cheney slave work
camps to die after short periods of time. The fundamentalist
enslaved or killed all those who had the talent to fight against the
reptiles. Those who were left were all good, faithful
Christianist who toed the mark of fundamentalist propaganda and
dogma. Since
they were untrained in the finer points of genetics and bioengineering
they didn’t
have a clue how to proceed. Their alternate solution to the
problem was prayer. They prayed a lot, but it didn't do
much good. The babies they were so adamant about protecting
within a woman's belly were being fed to the bellies of alien reptiles.
The more babies
that disappeared, the harder they prayed. The shame and greater
insanity of it all was, no one stood up against the madness and stated
the obvious truth: that perhaps, just maybe, their sky-daddy was
deaf. The public was about to storm the White House, but the
government bought themselves some time by declaring there was no such
thing as aliens and certainly only the lunatic fringe believed in alien
abduction. When that dam began to fail, Scudder went on
television and announced he was told by God himself it was his
holy will so many babies and young children were disappearing from
their beds at night. God began the rapture and the innocent
children were being taken first. Sixty-four percent of the
population believed him. The other thirty six percent were either
in the government and part of the deception or they were in Cheney
camps. Poe’s law became the ultimate reality which sealed the
fate of man on planet Earth.*
Shanna Ruggles
was becoming more depressed and detached from her parents by the
day. Her mother was concerned about her. She had no one to
talk with. She tried prayer until her knees bled. She
tried going to Pastor Yates and his wife, but they depended heavily
upon her parent’s generous contributions to their church for their
survival. They certainly weren’t going to suggest any course of
action which might alienate Charlie Ruggles or his wife. Neither
did they offer her much comfort. They were of the opinion she was
complicit in a crime against their god and society. She sinned
against her parents
and her religion to have premarital sex; therefore, she deserved
whatever happened to her. It wasn’t quite as severe as honor
killings among Muslims, but it had its intended effect. She
considered suicide, but she didn’t want to kill her baby. She
thought about running away, having the baby, giving it to some good
family with whom she might contract who would not sell the baby to the
government. After she was satisfied the child would be well taken
care of, she would commit suicide. All sorts of possibilities ran
through her mind, but they mostly took planning and would require
outside help. She knew she didn’t want to go on living in such a
closed world, but she didn’t know how she might go about breaking out
or replacing it with a better situation which would be acceptable for
her and her baby. There seemed no escape, and she was running out
of time.
Shortly after
the discussion with Admiral Long and Judge Potter about the baby
belonging to Monty’s master, the Admiral decided it might be a good
idea to place robo-cams on Shanna to protect Shane’s property rights
and those of the Grange. The more frustrated Shanna became the
more closely she was watched for erratic behavior. She spent an
inordinate amount of time on the Internet. Ping’s knowledge and
sophistication of digital logic and systems was years ahead of anything
being used on Earth computers. Microsoft became fat and lazy
and lost their strangle hold on the world market when they came out
with the severely flawed and clumsy ‘Vista’ operating system.
People either switched to Linux or traded privately hacked and upgraded
copies of Xp around the net. Ping used her own version of an
operation system she created which so smoothly integrated with all
operating system you couldn’t tell your computer was taken over by a
second or in some cases a third source. One morning Shanna
started her computer, and after she logged on using her password a
different screen came up. It wasn’t strange or unusual
looking. It seemed to fit with her operating system and had an
appealing decor to it she found attractive. There was just a
couple of lines of text.
“Good morning,
Shanna. Do you need someone to talk with?” Shanna read and
was confused.
“Who are you?”
she typed.
“A friend.
Someone who has heard your prayers.”
“Are you God or
Jesus?”
“No.”
“Are you the
Devil?”
“No.”
“Who are you
then?”
“A mother.”
“Are you the
virgin Mary?”
“No, I’m not
human.”
“Are you a
demon?”
“Goodness, I
hope not. Would it help if I sent you a picture of me, my mate,
and our two kits?”
“Yeah, sure, I
guess. Kits? Are you feline?”
Ping hit a key
and on the full screen was Ping, Pong, Jack and Jill posed in an almost
formal family portrait. Shanna was stunned. She never saw
such wonderful, handsome creatures in her life. They were
beautiful and looked like a cross between a spectacularly colored
ring-tailed cat and a small primate. It was obvious from the
picture they were a happy family.
“As you can see,
we’re not cats. We are of another specie altogether. We are
called Langerians or Langers. We cannot speak as you do, but we
have other ways of communicating. Our names are unpronounceable
to your race so our human brothers and sister call me Ping and my mate
Pong. My son is Jack and my daughter is Jill. If you speak
out loud— not so loud as to be overheard— I can hear you.” Ping typed
“Where are you
from, Ping?” Shanna asked in a moderate voice.
“From a solar
system far away from yours. Unfortunately, our planet no longer
is habitable.” Shanna saw on her screen.
“Why have you
revealed yourself to me?” she asked.
“Because you are
troubled. I am a mother. I know about such things.”
“How do I know
you aren’t demonic?” Shanna asked.
“You
don’t. If I send my kits to you, will you believe we mean you no
harm.”
“Send?
How?” Shanna no sooner got the words out when a bright flash of light
almost blinded her. Standing on either side of her were Jack and
Jill. They immediately released a relaxing pheromone which kept
Shanna from jumping out of her skin. “Oh, my God!” she exclaimed
quietly as she watched Jill bow deeply to her and offer her small
hand. Shanna took her hand and held it for a moment. “Good
to meet you, Jill.” She turned to look at Jack as he bowed deeply to
her. She took his hand and told him the same. They moved to
her bed and set on the edge smiling and looking at her. “Can you still
here me, Ping?” she asked.
“I’m here,
Shanna. I can hear you fine.”
“They’re even
more beautiful in person. They’re almost full grown.” Shanna
commented.
“Don’t remind
me.” Shanna saw on the screen and laughed. “Kids or kits in any
solar system grow up with their own individual, unique set of
problems.” Ping typed. “Shield your eyes, dear one, and I will
bring them home.” Shanna did as she was told, the light flashed again
and Jack and Jill were gone.
“Are there many
of you Langerians, Ping?”
“For many years
my mate and I thought we were the only survivors of our world when it
was destroyed by evil forces you know nothing about, but who now
threaten your world. You government is keeping their presence a
secret for the time being. We were rescued by a wonderful human
whom we consider our savior and companion. Recently, another
friendly race discovered a derelict spaceship with about sixty of our
kind barely existing. It was adrift in another system for
generations. They were rescued and have been given a temporary
home on another world in your solar system.”
“Which world?”
Shanna asked.
“The world you
call Mars.”
“Mars is
lifeless.” Shanna challenged.
“On the surface,
yes.” typed Ping.
“Why are you
interested in me and my baby, Ping?”
“You need
help. You carry a special child. You must not let your
father sell him to the government. They are not telling your dad
the truth about what will happen to him.”
“What would
happen to my baby, Ping?” Shanna’s voice lowered like she was bracing
for the worst.
“It is too
terrible for me to tell you, Shanna.” she watched the words come across
her screen.
“Are they to
appease the alien race you speak of?” Shanna read the information about
babies and young children disappearing by the thousands. She
thought it was all revolutionary spin to turn good, God fear’n
Christian folk away from believing in their country, the Holy Prophet,
and God.
“They are.” Ping
typed.
“What am I to
do, Ping?” Shanna broke down in sobs. Ping’s heart went out to
her.
“There, there,
dear one, talk with me. Maybe I can help.” Shanna saw come across
her screen.
“I don’t know
how you could help me. It all seems so hopeless.”
“Would you be
willing to give up your family to join us?”
“Who is us,
Ping?” Shanna spoke.
“A gathering of
many species who are working together to escape the scourge of the
parasitic aliens who are now beginning to take over your world.
They are the same race of reptiles who destroyed our world.”
“Then the final
days of Earth are really here?” Shanna asked.
“Yes, I’m afraid
so, but it won’t be as you have been taught by your religion.
Jesus won’t be coming back, and there really is no supreme being to
help your people either.”
“But our bible
tells us so.” said Shanna defensibly.
“You bible is
wrong, Shanna. It is nothing more than a collection of stories
and myths, dear one.
Those who believe and are unable to accept a new life without religion
will be left behind. Religions were a part of man’s evolution on
this planet as was his physical and mental development. It was
part of survival of the fittest. Religion was never intended for
the betterment of mankind, only for control. The race who is now
in the process of harvesting your species for food was greatly
instrumental in forming early religions. Why do you think there
are so many? They can’t all be right, yet each feel the same way
you do; theirs is the only true religion. Even within your
own religion there are thousands of opposing factions. Myths and
gods were created to insure mankind will never be able to unite against
a greater common enemy. They put just enough into the dogma to
appeal to the simple minded and the rest was enough to scare the
strongest man into believing. Strong, but weak minded men, could
easily be controlled by weaker, stronger minded men. It has been
carefully planned and orchestrated for thousands of
years.
Occasionally, when Earth has become overpopulated in some
areas, they have returned to cull and harvest humans for food.
Earth is like a great meat market for them. There was one factor
they didn’t count on. Through natural selection, man began to use
more of his brain, and it became bicameral. Brain development
began to become more important than brawn and the cultivation of myths
became great fertilizer for growth. Some of the most outstanding
accomplishments of man in the form of music, art, literature,
philosophy and science have been stimulated by myths.
Unfortunately, religion also brings hatred and wrath in the form of
intolerance and an easy justification for war. The good news is,
with the understanding of
their world and universe through science, man is beginning to awaken to
the knowledge he no longer needs myths. He can grow, adapt and
become good through knowledge and reason.”
“I don’t believe
you! It’s all lies. Jesus will come for me. I know it
in my heart. God loves me and won’t let bad things happen to
me. You’re telling me all this just to get my baby. Get
thee behind me, daughter of Satan!” Shanna switched off her
computer. She collapsed in tears at her desk. There was
only silence in the room. Shanna was afraid to turn on her
computer for several days, but strangely enough, for once in her life,
she didn’t run to her parents or any of her Christianist friends to
tell them what she experienced. When she finally did decided to
go online again, she thought about many things. What if Ping
was right? She considered how much control her parents were
imposing on her without her consent. She was an adult, and yet
they were treating her like a child. She was a prisoner in her
own home. To argue the point with them was as futile as resisting
assimilation by the Borg. They would simply tell her it was for
her own good, and they were doing it because they loved her so
much. She didn’t understand now, but later she would thank
them. She wondered if there could be such a thing as loving
someone too much? She slowly pressed the power button on her
computer, and the hard drive whirred to life. She set staring at
the same screen she saw before.
“Are you there,
Ping?” she asked quietly. She watched as the letters spilled
across the screen.
“I am here,
Shanna.”
* * * * * * *
The week passed
quickly. Monty was busy from morning until late at night.
He had a new passion about him everyone noticed. Shane had to
insist he take some time off for recreation. Even then, he was
busy entertaining his little sister, Bobby and Dexter. Rocky went
with them everywhere. He became their big brother and
guardian. He stayed in his room at Monty’s most of the time, but
when Monty was entertaining his slave brothers or Ramrod Russell, Rocky
stayed in the downstairs bedroom in the foreman’s house. He was
comfortable in both places, but came to enjoy Shane and Cole’s
company. He was learning quickly and looked forward to returning
to Mars Port and Venus to visit his relatives. Thursday afternoon
came and Jimmy Joe walked through the gate looking like he stepped out
of a Western catalog. He was scrubbed from head to toe and
smelled like a desert flower. It was his night to get away from
the ranch, and he came to spend it with Monty. Ramrod Russell found
Monty working in his leather shop finishing up the final repairs to the
Ong’s tack. He worked on it off and on all week, and he was
almost
finished.
One sight of Jimmy Joe made Monty’s blood drain from his head.
Monty thought he had to be one of the finest, if not the finest,
looking buckaroos he ever met. Jimmy Joe didn’t bother with small
talk, he took Monty into his arms and kissed him hard. Monty
could hardly get his breath. Jimmy Joe smelled so good he was
ready to eat him right there, but he restrained himself; however, he
couldn’t resist going through the slave ritual with his ramrod.
Jimmy Joe was wearng another handsome pair of boots Monty never saw
before,
and they made his mouth water. After they kissed another
stimulating kiss, Monty fixed his ramrod a cup of coffee and went off
to shower. He planned to clean himself right after he finished
work. He wanted everything out of the way before his ramrod
arrived, but Jimmy Joe never knew when he could get away. He
surprised Monty a little early. They were invited to the big
house for supper. Ms. Biddle moved Cajun night to Thursday that
week because she had a social she wanted to attend Friday
evening. All the regulars would be there.
Everyone had a
good time at supper. All the men seemed to be in good moods and
things were going well at all the ranches. Hoot and Cotton were
careful not to mention anything about Burt being back among their
slaves. When they found out about Angus banishing him from his
ranch they were not happy with him, but they were like two
parents. They were disappointed with him and let him know.
Their displeasure and hurt probably did more to bring Burt down
than anything. The Admiral took his ship away from him.
Lazarus said
he could fly second chair, but he would have to work hard and keep his
nose clean to earn the right to be called captain of his own ship
again. That cut him deeply. Some worried it might devastate
Burt beyond repair, but he was a slave long enough, he knew he could
rise above his set back. He made up his mind to let his
experience with Jimmy Joe be a lesson for him, and he would make
amends. He accepted the responsibility for his mistake and asked
his masters to apologize to Ramrod Russell for him until he got a
chance to do so himself.
“How is Coyote
John coming along?” Shane asked Jimmy Joe.
“Tomorrow is his
last day for his break-in period. He gets his first diaper
Saturday and becomes a baby slave. He’ll be allowed a few more
privileges. He’s actually coming along better than anyone
expected, but he’s much like I was. I suspect he’s just going
through the motions.”
“Ain’t that what
you want him to be doing, Ramrod?” Cole asked. “Does is really matter
how or why he’s doing it, if he’s doing what he should?”
“Yes and no.”
replied Jimmy Joe. “Master Angus is watching him closely.
If it comes down to a battle of wills between them two, there ain’t no
doubt in my mind who’s gonna’ win, but I hate to see the cost Coyote
John might have to pay.”
“We got us a
couple of slaves who came to us from other ranches what’s been
clipped. It don’t change ‘em much, but it shore' 'nuff calms ‘em
down. So he has to sing soprano in the choir.” said Hoot
dryly. The men laughed, but Monty didn’t. Jimmy Joe felt
him bristle. He didn’t say anything but put his hand on Monty’s
leg under the table. Later, when they were alone, Jimmy Joe
brought up the subject.
“You still got
feelings for Coyote John, Son?”
“I’d be a damn
liar if’n I’s to deny it, Master Russell. You can’t share a close
space with a man for six months, have sex with him two or three times a
day whether you want to or not, and walk away without some feelings for
him. Make no mistake, my feelings ain’t the same for Coyote John
as they are for
you. There ain’t no comparison, but ‘yes’ I care about him and
what happens to him. I have an investment in him as a human
being. I don’t wanna’ see Coyote John castrated jes’ like I
wouldn’t wanna’ see no wild animal robbed of its masculinity. I
don’t know if I could let that happen.”
“What could you
do, Monty?”
“I don’t know,
Sir. I don’t know if there’s anything I can do, but I come to
believe inaction can sometimes be worse than the worst action. I
guess I just have to hope he comes around or breaks and becomes the
slave you and Master Angus want him to be.”
“I know you’re
learning about your talents ever’ day, boy, but promise me you won’t
go'n do
some’um stupid. Whatever happens to him, he ain’t worth your
effort
trying to protect him from some’um he brung on hisself. H’it
ain’t chore’ place to step in and be a hero for Coyote John Tin
Penny. No one expects it, not even Coyote John hisself, and you
could git chore’self in a whole mess a’ trouble. You could
destroy all the faith and trust yore’ masters placed in you. I
know you care about him, but I ain’t a bit jealous. I know'd ju'
ain’t never had nothing with him like you done shared with me.
You know what your problem is, slave?” Jimmy Joe asked and answered
before Monty had a chance to respond, “You’re too damn good for your
own good. If you ever bond with anybody, human or critter, they
become the most important thing in your life. You want to please
them, and you want them to like you.”
“Ain’t that what
ever’body wants, Ramrod?”
“Some more’n
others, but to you, it’s yore’ life’s blood.”
“I guess it’s
hard for me to understand why I ain’t having to go through what Coyote
and other slaves I’ve heard about go through. I know I’m a slave
and I never forget it in my mind, but Captain Shane and Ramrod Jenkins,
Master Morris and Boss Potter treat me like I’s family. I try to
remember my manners and always take them into consideration before I do
anything, but they ain’t being mean to me or making me do the things I
hear you men are doing to Coyote.”
“We ain’t doing
nothing to Coyote John you ain’t done with me or your slave
daddies. The difference is you do it without being forced.
You ain’t had to perform for your master because he’s got his own nest
to feather. He pretty much leaves it up to his lead cowboy slaves
and now me. There may come an evening when Captain Shane may test
you to see if he thinks you’s fully devoted to him, but I doubt
it. Remember how you explained to me not all boots are created
equally, it depends on the circumstances?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Not all slaves
are created equally. What did you do so bad they made you a
slave? You had sex with a girl you loved and what loved
you.
You weren’t even under age. You were both adults. You
didn’t try to kill one of your buddies in a drunken barroom brawl over
a whore. There’s a big difference. Look at Loud and
Fuzzy. They were made slaves for being three time losers for
drunk and disorderly conduct. There was a little property damage
the last time, but it didn’t amount to a hill a' beans. You don’t
see them being treated like we’re treating Coyote. I ain’t saying
Bart Swinson and Telly Ferguson don’t make them old boys toe the
line. If you asked them I’ll bet they’ll tell you they require
ever’ thing of them we do of Coyote. They jes’ go about it
differently. Breaking a slave can be compared to breaking
horses. Some you can work with and show they gotta’ do what you
say, but you won’t hurt ‘em none if they cooperate with you.
Others, you gotta’ saddle and
ride ‘em down hard ‘til you break ‘um. You know Coyote. Do
you think we could get him to cooperate if we treated him like Captain
Shane treats his slaves?”
“Naw, Sir.
He’d jes’ laugh and do what he damn well pleased.”
“'Ere ya'
go. There’s your
answer. Besides, Shane Goodnight ain’t like Angus
Goodnight. I don’t know’s he’d even consider taking on a slave
like Coyote John. Shane was treated the same way we’s treating
Coyote John. I know, I was there. I seen what they put him
through. There were times I had to take care of him when Master
Angus and his slaves went some’mers and Master Hoot and Cotton loaned
me
out to take care of their baby slaves. Do you see the difference,
Son?”
“Yes, Sir, I
think I understand. I keep forgetting some people like Coyote
John will just take advantage. He did with me, but then again, I
let him. I jes’ don’t think I could handle him being emasculated.”
“Don’t dwell on
it, boy. Don't let it stick in yore' craw. I promise, if it
should happen it won’t be because we
didn’t try ever’ damn thing we could to git him to break and submit
willingly. He knows I been coming to the ranch to see you.
I don’t know how. I threatened my slaves with severe punishment
if’n they told him anything. It’s one thing for slaves to
gossip. They all do it. Hell I done it, but you don’t do it
with a new slave during his break in period. Coyote always asks
about you. He wants to know ever’ thing you’re doing. I
tell him a few things, but I don’t tell him a lot. I certainly
don’t tell him about your talents or nothing about the boots you
gimme.’ I swear he took one look at ‘em boots, knew where I got
‘um and
who give ‘em to me. He got a funny grin on his face like he
knew. He asks me if you been treat’n me right like a good slave
should? I don’t tell him nothing, but I know he knows.” Jimmy Joe
paused for a while. Monty didn’t respond. “I know what
you’re think’n, boy, but I don’t think it would be a good idea.” Jimmy
Joe grinned.
“Probably
wouldn’t do no good no ways.” Monty smiled at him.
“I don’t
know. To be honest the thought crossed my mind, but I wouldn’t
let you do it without Master Angus’ approval. I got my job to
think about.” he said.
“I would never
jeopardize your job, Ramrod. I jes’ thought if I could talk with
him for a while I might be able to convince him to try harder. I
don’t know why. Ah, who the hell a' my kid'n? He ain't
never listen to a damn thing I said when
we’s in jail together. He jes’ thought I’s a stupid kid what
didn’t
have sense enough to come in out of the rain. I certainly
wouldn’t do it without your permission.”
“Lemme’ talk
with my bossman. He’s a crafty old codger. He might have an
idea. Jes’ when I think he ain’t the brightest penny in the
jar, he comes up with some’um what blows me away. I think
he’s as interested as you and me to see Coyote John makes it. He
ain’t the type what makes bargains with slaves, but there’s one young
slave he’s devoted to who he would do anything for without him asking.”
“Little Bear?”
Monty asked.
“Yeah.
Little Bear would never ask Master Angus for anything, and for that
reason, Angus would move heaven and Earth to
bring Coyote around. He loves the boy that much.”
Monty showed
Jimmy Joe the three new bodies in his lab. It was a little
unnerving for the old cowboy, but it wasn’t like looking at dead
people. It was obvious these bodies were very much alive.
He couldn’t get over how much Dexter’s replacement body looked like
Captain Shane and for a young adult male the bio-droid’s equipment
rivaled his own. He remembered changing Shane’s diaper for him
several times when he was a baby slave. Shane was Angus’ little
brother all right, and it made the ramrod’s asshole get a sharp twinge
at the sight when he recalled his getaway retreat at Mars Port with his
bossman. A satisfied smile crossed his face. The two
younger bodies who were about the same size Dexter was currently, were
fashioned after relatives of the Goodnight family with minor
adjustments so they wouldn’t be mistaken for the originals. The
adjustments were enhancements and according to Monty, the bio-droid
children were more beautiful and handsome. Shane was
pleased. Monty told Jimmy Joe they would be ready to receive the
two young whale brains Monday or Tuesday of the following week.
Monty had the deceased whale brain sitting outside his quarters in
the full sun for almost a week. At the end of the week he planned
to take it back to the lab for testing. If there were no signs of
life he would return it for further exposure.
Jimmy Joe and
Monty spent a wonderful evening together. Monty didn’t morph for
his ramrod that evening. He found himself with a deep need to be
oral with his love object. Through trial and error Jimmy Joe
learned the way Monty best responded to having his face fucked and gave
the young man what he needed. Late in the night he knocked on
Monty’s backdoor, and they shared one of their best couplings since
they started cohabiting. It left them both drained. They
were
in wonderful spirits the next morning. They enjoyed a great
breakfast
at the big house, and afterward, Monty walked his ramrod back to the
gate.
They said their goodbyes and Jimmy Joe went back to his duties at his
ranch. When they were getting ready for their morning,
Monty helped his ramrod on with the pair of boots he was in charge
of for the week. Jimmy Joe left his older, worn pair with Monty
to take care for him until the following Thursday. The old cowboy
could swear the boots Monty took care of were filled with love.
They never felt better. When he went in to check on Coyote John,
the first thing the big Indian caught sight of was Jimmy Joe’s cleaned
and polished boots. His knowing smile made the ramrod uneasy.
* * * * * * *
Shane gave Monty
his approval to have his workers proceed with the installation of
the two young whale brains. They were much further developed
socially and had a much faster capacity for adjusting than the more
mature brain of their Uncle Rocky. Monty allowed the young brains
to remain hooked up to computer interfaces so they could see and
learn. With Shane’s permission he allowed them to get robo-cam
feeds from many of the people and critters on the ranch. Several
from the other ranches volunteered for them to watch their daily
lives. The coyote cowboys thought it was a cool idea. The
only time the brains couldn’t watch was in private moments which Kyron
would oversee and shut down that particular feed. Children of any
species learn at a more accelerated rate than their more mature
counterparts. That’s not to say Rocky was any slouch or a dullard
by any means. In his first week he became so integrated within
the ranch family an outsider couldn’t tell the difference between him
and any other cowboy. He expressed an interest in working with
the cowboys and began to learn faster than any hand they had. His
strength was amazing. He didn’t need a horse to stop the largest
steer. He could rope it, set his boot heels in the dirt, and the
animal wasn’t going anywhere. When the cowboys asked why they
couldn’t do that, Shane replied it was simple, they didn’t have
titanium bones. Thus Shane’s comment was immediately picked up by
the voices on the winds and became a popular new ballad about the
bladder whale who died, was resurrected to cowboy heaven to live with
his savior Captain Shane and all the cowboy saints who saved the living
whales. The young whale exchanged his silicon stones for titanium
bones. On an on it went about how Kuklacon the Venusian whale
became Rocky the Earthling cowboy. It went to number one in
several
solar systems.
* * * * * * *
Friday
afternoon, Monty had one last job to do around the old barn before he
went to his quarters to clean up for supper. He was joining the
rest of the men in the slave quarters. Ms. Biddle had a special
night off to attend her social event. Monty was mucking out
Jenny’s living area to put some fresh straw down for her comfort.
To keep her out of his way he fed her to keep her busy. Easy
thoughts of his ramrod filled his head. He could still smell
Jimmy Joe’s musky masculine smell on him and his mustache. Monty
was totally preoccupied. He wasn’t even thinking about what he
was doing. As he was bending over a bale of hay to cut the wire
with his clippers, he was startled when a huge set of arms gently
engulfed him from the rear and slowly pulled him up close to the
body of a big man. He figured it was one of his cowboy brothers,
and allowed it to happen without fighting. The big man bussed a
kiss behind his ear and spoke quietly.
“I hear tell you
got something for me, slave-boy?” Monty turned into the big arms of
Angus Goodnight. A pleased smile crossed Monty’s face. “I
also hear’d I gotta’ pay for it by giving you some pleasure.” Angus
grinned as he pressed his crotch to Monty’s with only a slight
suggestion.
“Yes, Sir,
Master Goodnight, you heard right.” Monty threw his arms around Angus
and hugged
him. “I wouldn’t ordinarily be so bold if’n I ain’t heard how
good you was. You come highly recommended, Master.” he chuckled
at his unintended double entendre.
“And jes’ what
is it you seek from me, young slave, and what have you heard?” Angus
continued the play.
“I would be
happy to tell you, Master, but first I would beg to pay homage to your
fine boots and pledge my love to you.” Monty smiled.
“Of course you
should. I sometimes forgit there are a few slaves who actually
enjoy the
ritual.” Angus released the young man. Monty fell to his knees
and lovingly paid homage to his master’s boots. They completed
the ritual with a goodly kiss.
“Thank you,
Master Angus. Some master’s boots are more tasty and bring a
slave’s heart more joy to pay homage to than others. Yours are
particularly satisfying, Sir. There really is no payment
necessary, Master. A gift should be just that... a gift, but if
you’re pleased, it’s always considered good manners to show your
benefactor your appreciation, Sir.” Monty grinned.
“And how would I
do that, boy?” Angus stole another kiss.
“By breaking the
maker of your gift to yore' saddle, Sir.” Monty grinned.
“How much
appreciation will I have to show, slave?” Angus played with him.
“As much as you
wish to gimme,' Sir.” replied Monty.
“I hear’d tell
you drive a hard bargain. I was told you didn’t want me to cheat
chu’ none.” Angus challenged.
“Only because I
heard your appreciation would be so fine, Master. While my ass
ain’t the deed to the ranch, I certainly hope it satisfies.”
Angus threw back
his handsome head and laughed. “From what I heard, slave, I ain’t
got me no doubt it will. Are you through with yore’ chores, Son?”
he asked.
“I have just a
little left to do, and I’ll be finished, Sir.”
“Here, I’ll give
you a hand.” Angus grabbed a pitchfork and went to work alongside
Monty. They finished in no time and left the old barn to the
calls of a happy ass who was thrilled with her clean bedding.
Monty could only imagine how happy his ass might be a little
later. It was still early afternoon, but the sun was beginning to
make its downward journey into night. Prior to moving the barn
and his quarters to the Potter/Goodnight ranch the windows of his shack
had an Eastern exposure, and the morning sun would fill his living
area. Now it faced West, and his quarters were flooded with the
late afternoon sun. He thought he liked the sunset better than
the sunrise. The morning sun never seemed to offer much warmth,
but in its new position, the setting sun kept his space warm and
comfortable for hours after it took its leave for the night. As
it was making its final descent, everything inside took on a magical
quality. Objects and paintings sparkled and glowed like it was
the last treasure hold of a great mountain king— perhaps, the great Elf
King himself; however, unlike Der Erlkonig, Monty planned to deliver on
his promise, and his promise, along with his gift, was for recreation
and renewal. Monty excused himself to clean his body for the
evening and supper. He asked Master Goodnight if he cared for
something to drink. He could offer him coffee, some fresh,
sweetened sun tea, or some Southern Comfort.
“What’s a slave
doing with alcohol?” he challenged.
“I didn’t know I
weren’t suppose to have it, Sir.” Monty laughed, “I bought a pint
one evening thinking I’d git drunk. I brought it home, had one
taste, ran to the bathroom, threw up and never opened the bottle
again. I just happen to have it from my days prior to becoming a
slave.” Monty told the truth. Angus roared with laughter.
“Good. You
won’t never become a drunk then. I think I’ll opt for some tea,
Son.” he laughed. Monty made him a big Mason jar full with a
sprig of mint he found growing down by the creek. He showed Angus
his quarters. Angus heard about it, but this was the first time
he got a chance to see for himself. He was as awed and blown away
as everyone else. He couldn’t believe the paintings. Monty
showed him everything including introducing him to both sets of
workers. He showed Angus Dexter’s new body and the big cowboy
fell apart laughing at the bio-droid’s likeness to his little
brother. He loved the idea. He was also impressed and
interested in the two small children’s bodies. Monty introduced
him to the brains and told him they were to be placed into their
new bodies Monday or Tuesday depending on his and his worker’s
schedules. As they were leaving Monty’s leather working area he
grabbed a box off one of the shelves and tucked it under his arm.
He took Angus to his bedroom area.
“Can I help you
undress, Master Goodnight?” Monty asked him. Angus grinned.
“If’n you git
ma’ clothes off me, and help me on with them new boots, we ain’t
leaving here until I pay for ‘em.”
“We got
time. It’s early and they don’t serve supper in the slave
quarters until seven on Friday nights. Lemme’s shuck ma’ clothes
off first, Sir.” Monty quickly took his boots off and
stripped. He came to Angus who was sitting on the edge of his bed
and helped him off with his boots, but not before paying a bit more
homage to them. He carefully helped the big cowboy undress and
carefully laid out his clothes. When he was fully naked he handed
him the box of boots. Angus set on the bed again and slowly
opened the box. A big smile crossed his face as he let out a low
whistle.
“Fine look’n
pair of boots, Son. Did yore' ramrod buddy tell you I damn near
tackled him and ripped his pair off’n him.” Angus laughed. Monty
laughed, too.
“He told me you
offered him the deed to yore’ ranch.” Monty laughed.
“I did, but the
sucker wouldn’t hear of it. Told me they weren’t for sale at no
price. Did he tell you he wouldn’t let me fuck him less’n he was
wear’n yore’ boots?” they fell together laughing.
“Naw, Sir, he
didn’t tell me that.” Monty admitted. He helped Angus on with his
new buckaroo boots. He stood and stomped around in them like any
good cowboy would. He grabbed Monty and held him close and stole
a kiss.
“You better go
clean yore’self, slave. Do a good job, I feel a whole shit-load
of appreciation coming on.” Angus spread his cowboy bullshit on
heavy. “Do you wanna’ pay homage to ma’ new boots before you
shower or afterwards.”
“Both,
Sir.” Monty grinned. They shared another laugh.
“So be
it.” Laughed Angus and Monty fell to his knees.
* * * * * * *
Angus fucked the
young slave with all the love and appreciation he could pour into
him. He made damn sure he didn’t cheat the boy an
inch. Monty got his all. He had no idea Monty would be such
a fine partner. If he wasn’t a man of reason and more of a
selfish, romantic nature he could imagine himself coveting his ramrod’s
buddy, but Angus wasn’t that way. That didn’t mean he couldn’t
appreciate a fine piece of buckaroo butt and a good fuck when it came
his way,
and this was certainly one of those times. Just about the time
Angus was about to shoot his load, the sun leveled off and illuminated
Monty’s bedroom with all the colors of the rainbow, but their
individual bodies took on a bright red-orange glow about them. It
was as if they were two gods about to create a separate universe with
the love and joy of their coupling. Monty wondered if that might
have been the real story behind the big bang. Perhaps it wasn’t
procreation so much as two gods conjoining to re-create
themselves. It certainly was as good a metaphor as four elephants
on the back of a giant turtle. Angus ejaculated with a
great
roar and Monty had no problem getting his at the same time. They
lay hooked together stealing kisses and enjoying the moment.
“Are all them
stories I be hear’n ‘bout you true, Son?”
“If’n you be
hearing them from your ramrod or your little brother, yes Sir, they be
true.”
“You can change
your shape to be most anything or anyone you want?”
“Yes, Sir.
As long as I got that person or critter’s genetic information on
deposit in my body I can morph into anything I want. Now I got a
big ole load of yore’ cowboy cream in ma’ gut, I can become a carbon
copy of you.”
“Can you become
my ramrod?”
“Sure, I stand
in front of my mirror and change into him ever’ night and jack off
think’n on him.”
“I never thought
about it, but what the hell, why not?” Angus laughed. “Can you
change into him right now with my dick up yore’ ass?”
“No problem,
Master.” Monty replied and began to morph. Angus watched as
the handsome young man morphed into the spitting image of his mature
ramrod cowboy. It was like Angus was looking at Jimmy Joe in a
new light. It was like he was looking into the soul of the good
looking buckaroo.
“Oh, Son, that’s
so hot!” he said and took a couple of extra strokes into the
image of Jimmy Joe. Monty smiled.
“You horny old
pervert.” Monty said just like Jimmy Joe might. Angus
howled with laughter.
“He’s called me
that!” he allowed, “And he’s right!” he exclaimed. Monty changed
back.
“Do I git
dessert after supper?” Angus grinned.
“It would be an
honor, Master Angus. I’s hope’n you might like seconds. To
break in a new pair of boots like them you really need several good
rides. You might consider taking my ramrod buddy for a good ride
in ‘em. I’m sure he’d like to help you break ‘em in.” Monty
laughed.
“You
wouldn’t mind?” Angus asked surprised.
“Naw, Sir, me
and the ramrod ain’t that way. I want him to have all the
happiness and joy he can git with me or without me.”
Monty cleaned
his master and himself. He helped Angus dress, dressed himself
and they walked through the lower meadow to the slave quarters for
supper. No man missed Angus’ new boots, but no one said a
word. There were a lot of knowing smiles and nods to one another,
but not one comment was made... that is, until Shane walked in.
He took one look at Angus' new boots, grinned real big and shook his
head.
“Handsome new
boots
you be wear’n there, brother.” Shane said. Everyone laughed
nervously.
“Thanks, little
brother, I think they’s quite nice ma'self.” Angus grinned.
“Mr. Morris,
make
sure he signs a contract with my slave to pay for them boots.” Shane
instructed his
business manager. Cole almost fell on the floor laughing.
Angus got a big, shit-eating grin on his face that said he deserved
Shane's dig.
“He already done
paid the first installment, Master Shane.” Monty spoke up on Angus’
behalf. Everyone in the bunkhouse roared with laughter.
“Good.
Good. How many more payment' he got, Son?” Shane asked
like a broker.
“Several.
He promised to make another large deposit after supper.” the cowboys
slaves
were hooting, laughing and slapping the table.
“Good.
Glad to hear it. You keep 'at big fucker honest, boy.” Shane
patted
Monty on his back and they all laughed.
They set down to
a wonderful dinner. Supper in the slave quarters at the
Potter/Goodnight ranch was always a treat. The cowboy slave cooks
were excellent and they never served a bad meal. They loved their
work and went to great lengths to provide good, healthy, quality meals
for the men. Even Boss Potter joined them. That evening
they had six new slaves for supper. They were seasoned slaves
from other small ranches that were going under and needed a home.
A couple were rescued from a small ranch where the owner was cruel and
mistreated them. They were afraid of their shadows and were
almost
starving to death when they were found. They were taken care
of and nursed back to health by some slave rescue workers who came to
Boss Potter and Shane and asked to take them in.
They couldn’t
believe the good food and clean bunks they were given. Their
personalities began to change almost immediately, and they became good
contributing members of the cowboy slave family. The men set and
talked over dessert and coffee. Many of the slaves drifted out
into the cool of the evening for some relaxation. Several were on
kitchen duty and helped the cooks clean the dishes and mop the
floors. Angus and Monty thanked the cooks, paid their respects to
Boss Potter and Captain Shane and walked back through the meadow to the
old barn and Monty’s quarters. Monty helped Angus undress again
after he removed his own clothes. This time he wanted to suck
Angus
off and almost did, but Angus wanted more of Monty’s ass and fucked him
again until he shot deep inside the young man. They lay together
talking afterward.
“My ramrod done
told
me you said something to him about speaking to the Coyote.”
“Yes, Sir, but I
don’t knows it would do any good. As you know, he’s awful set in
his ways.”
“Yeah, but ever’
man’s got a weak spot. Tonight’s his last night alone in his
cage. They already done got him locked down for the night.
Is it
true you can transport yore’self from place to place?”
“Yes, Sir.
It
ain’t hard.”
“I got me an
idea, Son, if’n you wanna’ go along with it.”
“I’ll do
anything you want, Master Angus, if it’ll help Coyote John and keep him
from git’n castrated.” Monty said.
“It might.
While I stay here and wait for you, go to him. There’s plenty of
room for you in his cage. Don’t let on me or your ramrod knows
about you coming to him. Stay with him a while. If he
should want
sex with you do you have a problem with it?”
“Naw, Sir, not a
bit. I love Coyote John. I don’t love him like I do Ramrod
Russell or how I might love you, Master Shane, or my cowboy slave
daddies,
but I do love him, Sir.”
“I understand,
Son. I know what you’re saying. They’s different ways to
love folks, but I think you got a pretty good grip on it. Offer
him your comfort, but don’t sell him your soul. Somehow, I
know you understand what I’m git’n at without a lot of palaver from me.”
“I do, Master
Angus. I might be gone
for an hour or more, Sir.”
“I don’t care,
but I wanna’ be here when you git back. I wanna’ hear how he
reacted, and you jes' might need me as a cushion to bounce back, if'n
you know
what I mean.”
“I do, Master
Angus. I appreciate you giving me a chance.”
“If it works,
that’s all I care about. Now where is that bottle of Comfort,
Son?” Angus smiled. Monty got it for him and brought him a clean
glass. He poured Angus three fingers and set the bottle on the
night stand next to him. Monty threw his large comforter over
him. Angus wished him well, gave Monty a quick kiss, and he
disappeared. Angus couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. He
got up found an extra large robe he guessed correctly Monty kept for
guests and put it on. He took his glass of Comfort and walked
around looking at Monty’s treasures and his ramrod’s boots, all cleaned
and polished in their place of honor on the orange crate with votive
candles placed around. It was a nice sentiment and a strong
statement of Monty’s affection and respect for Jimmy Joe Russell.
* * * * * * *
“What the fuck!”
said a startled Coyote John Tin Penny when he realized there was
another naked man in his cage with him, but he instinctively recognized
it to be someone he knew. He raised himself on one arm and looked
to see his former cell mate lying next to him. “Monty? Is
that you, kid?” he asked cautiously.
“Yes, John, it’s
me. I didn’t know if I could find you, but I seemed to have
nailed it.” he smiled in the soft light coming through the door
into the room where Coyote’s cage was. Coyote John threw his arms
around the young man and hugged him to himself. Monty felt the
big Indian sobbing in his arms. He felt John pull his warm
blanket up over Monty to get closer to him so they were touching skin
to skin. He could feel the Coyote’s penis growing strong.
“How did you get
here? I didn’t hear you come in. How did you get in my
cage? The lock is still on.”
“It’s a long
story, John. I jes’ had to come see you. I had to see if
you’s all right.” Monty watched as tears came to Coyote’s eyes and a
couple ran down his cheeks.
“I’m all right,
kid. You shouldn’t worry yourself none about me, but I’m proud
and
happy you did. I won’t ask how you got here. I’m an Indian
and we believe some pretty way-out shit. I suspected there’s
people what can project themselves from place to place or folks what
can go from a dream state to a physical state some'mers else. Are
you asleep? Are you dreaming yourself into my arms? Am I in
a state of lucid dreaming?”
“No, we're in
Texas." chuckled Monty, "I think if you took a little of
all them ideas, mixed them together and tossed them out the window,
you'd come close to understanding, John.” Monty laughed and
stole a kiss.
“You always were
a loveable little shit, but you could come up with some of the
damnedest
crap. Do you still love me, boy?" the big Indian demanded.
“Would I risk
coming to you like this if I didn’t, John?” Monty answered. “Do you
still love me?” Monty grinned at him.
“Still?” Coyote
asked, “Ain’t no sense lying to you, boy, I didn’t realize how much I
loved you until I lost you, but if any man should know me, it’s
you. You know my love ain’t worth a plug nickle. I can’t be
the man you need. You need a daddy, boy. You needed a daddy
when you’s with me in jail. I knew it, but I’s too damn selfish
to even try to be what you needed. I knew what you needed and
took advantage of you. I give you just enough to git what I
wanted and no more. Look at me, I got a boy of my own I failed
miserably. I love him, but I couldn’t be what he needed
either. I don’t know why, but I stopped worrying about it a long
time ago. I jes’ can’t be what other people want me to be.
I put Ramrod Russell onto you. I told him I done trained you to
be a good slave. I know'd he’s been fuck’n you. Don’t even
try to deny it. I see the satisfied look on his face after he's
been with you. I can always tell because he don't bathe for
a day afterward, and I can smell your scent on him. He carries
you
with him ever' where he goes. He's smitten with you, boy, and
he’s
the right man for you. He’ll be
the best damn daddy you could ever want, Son. He’ll take good
care of
you. I couldn't be happier for either of you.”
“I ain’t got
much time, John. I gotta' git back before they discover me
gone. I come to take care of you. What’ll it be. You
want a blow job or you want some ass?” Monty put to him like a
used car salesman.
“I’d love me a
big ole piece of yore’ sweet ass, boy.” Coyote said sincerely.
“Well, this time
you gotta’ fuck me in the missionary position. You lied to me,
you asshole. You can fuck a man in that position.” Monty
grinned. Coyote laughed.
“Ah, hell, you
didn’t know the difference. I fucked guys that way before.
I don’t know how much good I can do you. They got a huge butt
plug strapped into my ass and when I git to moving about it massages my
prostrate.* Makes me come real quick.”
“Do your best,
cowboy.” Monty urged him. Coyote got on top and had no problem
getting his hard cock into Monty’s ass. He fucked him for
sometime and
finally collapsed in exhaustion on top of him. He withdrew and
Monty cleaned him with his mouth. While he was going down on
Coyote he let go some piss into his mouth. Monty gulped it
down. Coyote let go more until he drained himself.
“You ain’t had
no problem becoming a slave, have you, kid?” he smiled at Monty as he
stole a kiss.
“Not a bit,
John. You done trained me well. At’s what I come to talk
with you about. Don’t jes’
play-act with them men, Coyote. Let ‘em break you. Make 'em
think they broke you anyway. Trust
me, they ain’t to be fucked with. You can’t git around these
men. I hear things. If’n you don’t toe the mark or allow
yore’self to be broken they’s gonna’ cut chore’ balls off. They's
dead serious, John. I love
you enough I don't wanna' see that happen. I begged ‘em to let me
come to you, but they wouldn’t. I thought you might listen to
me. You know'd I ain’t got me no axe to grind, Coyote. I
jes’
come
to love and care about you like you’s ma’ big brother. All I want
for you is to be safe and sound. We took care of each other in
jail, didn’t we?”
“Yeah, kid, we
made a good pair. You did all the giving, and I done all the
taking. You trying to tell me it’s payback time?” Coyote
challenged.
“Naw, Sir.
What payback? Don’t insult me, John. I done what I done
because I wanted to, not because you took it from me. I thought
you learned your lesson about that.” Monty said with anger in his voice.
“Easy,
kid. You’re right. I learnt ma' lesson. That was
thoughtless on my part, but
that shouldn’t be anything new to you. Lie back here in my arms,
let me hold you
and relax, boy. Let this worthless old hound dog make a little
love to ya.'” he ordered. Monty did as he was told and
got the surprise of his young life. Coyote began to go down on
him and suck his dick. Monty moved his hand down to stop Coyote,
but he slapped his hand away and continued until Monty climaxed a big
load. Coyote swallowed it all without gaging, but he didn’t
stop. He kept sucking until Monty wondered. He released a
little of his piss to Coyote, and he gulped it down. He sucked
and sucked until Monty emptied himself into the big Indian. Monty
was about to breakdown in tears he was so moved by John’s actions.
“Does that tell
you how much you mean to me, boy, and how much I missed you?” he held
Monty in his big arms and bussed a kiss behind his ear.
“Yes, Sir.
Thanks, John. I needed that. It meant a lot. I love
you, Sir. I'll always love you. I hate to shoot and run,
but I gotta' go now.”
“I know you love
me, and I
love you, kid. Don't go...” he started to beg. He barely
got the word 'yet' out when Monty disappeared from his arms.
He grabbed at nothing but air trying to keep Monty with him for a
moment longer. He fell forward and wept into his blanket.
He slept soundly with the smell of the young man surrounding him like a
Sou'wester protects a fisherman from an oncoming storm.
End of Chapter
68 ~ Waco’s Lummox
Copyright 2008 ~
Waddie Greywolf
All Rights
Reserved ~
Mail to:
waddiebear@yahoo.com
Web site: http://www.asstr.org/~Waddie_Greywolf
Proofed: 10/26/09
* Poe’s
Law: http://rationalwiki.com/wiki/index.php?title=Poe's_Law
* http://www.williamhenry.net/art_dis-cerning.html
* Coyote John’s
a cowboy. He don’t know the difference between “prostate” and
“prostrate.”