I met and was
around Dwayne’s step-dad, Colonel Dunbar, many times while visiting my
buddy and helping with his chores. He was approximately six-four,
two-hundred and twenty pounds of no nonsense, tight-ass Marine.
His sandy blond hair was cut in the usual, tight Marine crew with
sidewalls that were beginning to show some silver at his temples.
He had piercing steel-gray eyes that were quick to flash if he was
annoyed or about to bark out another of his many orders. He had a
big, hard, masculine face, with a square jaw that left little doubt the
line of work the man was in. He was your, above average looking,
typical jar-head Marine.
Colonel
Jar-head, as I referred to him behind his back, was loud, abrupt,
controlling, deceitful, opinionated, prideful, conceited, vainglorious,
and mean spirited. Let’s see,— did I leave anything out?
Nope, I think that pretty well sums him up. Other than those few
minor character flaws, he was a lovely man. He left no doubt in
my mind he considered himself far more intelligent than he really
was. My dad always told me not only to listen to what a man tells
you, but also pay attention to how he tells you. The stupid will
always let you know they’re stupid. My wicked old man referred to
him as Colonel Klink, the Ji-reeen. Dad told me it was the sound
shit makes when it hits the fan. My old man could be so
bad. I especially loved that part of him.
Colonel Dunbar
kept his body in top physical condition by doing morning exercises with
the recruits on the base. He felt he should be able to perform as
well or better than his grunts. The man had definition where I
could only imagine. He could lay flat on his back, place a
quarter on his stomach and cause it flip over using only his ab muscles
to make it travel up and down. I wouldn’t have been surprised to
find out he had muscles in his dick. Dwayne swore it did; said it
was one huge muscle. I was sure what Colonel Jar-head had
between his ears was little more than muscle; the smallest, most
undeveloped muscle on his body.
While I thought
he was a hot, attractive man there was something about him that always
made me want to watch him out of the corner of my eye. His
gung-ho, hard charging, relentlessly controlling attitude made me
nervous to be around him for any length of time. He may have had
his own unique appeal, and granted, he was an imposing, fine looking
figure of a man; however, he couldn’t hold a candle to my cowboy
dad, ‘The Sex Machine.’ I would catch the Colonel checking me out
like I was a prize piece of livestock he’d like to own. I’d laugh
to myself and think, ‘My old man would snuff you out like a
candle in a hurricane if you ever so much as touched me, you pompous
clown.’
The Colonel
talked with me more than he did Dwayne. His only words for
Dwayne were to berate him, demean him, or bark orders at him. It
was obvious to me he cared little for his step-son or his step-son’s
feelings. Dwayne was just a necessary nuisance to him so he
could control Dwayne’s mom. He told everyone, he owned the ranch
they were living on. As community property laws go, perhaps he
did. It was none of my business. I wondered why he would
even bother to tell me such a thing. Didn’t he know I knew better?
* * * * * * *
I lay there
holding Dwayne in my arms, but I didn’t try to stop him from
crying. Dad taught me the best thing to do is let someone get it
out. I was kissing around on him, petting him gently and telling
him everything was going to be all right; not to be afraid. I
assured him nothing was going to change between him and me. He
was still my best bud and would be as long as he needed me to be.
He finally came around.
“You don’t hate
me, Case?”
“What a silly
question. Why, the hell, would I hate you? On the contrary,
I love you, Dwayne. You’re my brother. I’ve loved you for
years. If you think I’m gonna’ stop loving you just because of
this revelation, you must not have a very high opinion of your
brother. Ya’ just don’t turn love off and on like a light switch,
Dwayne. It don’t work that way; leastwise, it don’t with
me. I guess I just ain’t never told you before because I assumed
you knew. Perhaps we shouldn’t take those things for granted.
That’s probably my fault; however, right now, you don’t see anyone else
around here I be call’n my brother do ya’? Huh?” I chuckled.
“I love you,
too, Case,— but I know you could never love me the way I love you.”
“Uumm,— I
wouldn’t bet the ranch on that, if’n I was you, hoss.” I stole
another kiss.
“Ah, com’on,—
not you, Case,— you’re straight arrow. I’ve heard all the
talk. You and I never talked about sex because I knew you were
straight. Didn’t make me no never mind, I knew you were my buddy
and that’s all I needed, Case, — honest! I’d never ask for more’n
‘nat,— I promise.”
“I know you
wouldn’t, Dwayne,— I believe you. I don’t think you’d ever ask
for more than a person was willing to offer. That’s just the way
you are; however, ask yourself a question, brother. Would I be
hold’n you like this; would you be feel’n my hard dick sticking you in
yore’ belly if’n I was totally straight? I felt yours against me
a while ago and laughed to myself ‘cause my buddy was, sooo
busted!” I laughed. Dwayne chuckled.
I lay there with
Dwayne for sometime until I heard dad and Mr. Winchester’s boots coming
up the stairs. Somehow, to hear the big clomping sound of
Spencer Winchester's cowboy boots on the stairs was such a comfort to
my soul at that moment. I heard dad call to me softly.
“Casey,— Son,—
may we come in?”
“Is it all
right, brother? They’re good men. They care about you and
believe me,— they already know. Dad and Mr. Winchester told me
what they thought was probably going on with you, but I didn’t wanna’
believe ‘em.”
“If you think
it’s all right, Case.” he said sheepishly.
“C’mon, Dad,—
Mr. Winchester.”
The two men came
into the room and set on either side of the bed.
“Don’t feel bad,
Son. You’ve got friends who love you. Why haven’t you come
to us with all this, Dwayne.” my dad was shaking his head.
“The boy was
afraid, ashamed and embarrassed, Vince. You know how it
is.” Mr. Winchester answered dad’s question.
“He’s right,
Dwayne, I do know how it is, and I apologize, Son. It’s just I
meant, maybe we could’ve been doing something to help you. Let me
ask you a serious question, Son, and don’t be afraid to answer
honestly. No one here’s gonna’ think worse of you one way or
another. Do you enjoy sex with your step-dad?”
“I didn’t at
first, Mr. Longhorn, but lately, once I relax and just give into him,
I’ve found I enjoy it a lot. I think he knows it, too, and he
takes advantage of it. He always waits until mom is gone for
sometime; maybe overnight, like tonight. I thought I wouldn’t
have to suck him off or get fucked tonight if’n I was to spend the
night with you and Casey.”
“So, when we
take you home, you’ll fix dinner for him, and he’ll force you to have
sex with him,— is that right, Son?” Spence asked him.
“Yes, Sir.
He always takes me to the barn. He makes me do it then calls me
queer, faggot and cocksucker while I’m sucking him or he’s fucking
me. I just turn my brain off and try to get him off as quickly as
possible so’s he’ll let me clean him up, I can take a shower and go to
bed.”
“Do you think
he’s doing this because he thinks you want it from him or he thinks
this is his way of showing you his love?” Mr. Winchester asked.
“Naw, Sir.
Ain’t no love to it. He’s doing it ‘cause he hates my dad.
It’s his way of git’n back at him and my mom.”
“I don’t
understand, Son.” Dad said. Mr. Winchester looked puzzled.
“My daddy’s a
cowboy, like you and Casey, Mr. Longhorn. He reminds me so much
of you and Case. He’s even got eyes like Casey’s ‘cept’n they
ain’t so dark. That’s why I like being around the two of you so
much,— you too, Mr. Winchester. Our ranch used to be my
dad’s. He inherited some money from his family and bought
it. He owned it outright when he met and married my mother.
My mom threw him out and divorced him ‘cause she caught him letting one
of our ranch hands give him a blow job. He weren’t doing nothing
but letting the guy suck him off. She got all jacked out a’
shape, demanded everything in the divorce settlement and sole custody
of me claiming my dad was a homosexual pervert. He ain’t even
allowed visitation rights, Sir. I caught her opening a letter he
sent. She took the money out, put it in her pocket, and tore up
the rest. I took it out of the trash and carefully pieced it back
together. The letter and money was for me, Mr. Longhorn.
That hurt me a lot. I'm sure he's sent me more letters, but I
don't never get to see 'em. I ain’t seen my dad very often since
I was six or seven years old. I’ve sneaked off a couple of times,
gotten on a bus, and gone to see him in a few rodeos that were in towns
close by. I get to see him for a day or so, maybe twice a year.”
“But, why does
your step-dad hate your dad, Son?” Mr. Winchester asked.
“‘Cause he knows
my mom still loves my dad even though she claims to hate him, and the
Colonel, well,— he just ain’t man enough to fill my dad’s boots and he
knows it. He demanded I call him dad, but I refused. That
made him real angry. I call him Colonel Dunbar or Sir. He
knows I still love my dad and he can’t stand it. He’s got it in
his head my dad’s a faggot, and I think it’s his way of working out his
own repressed homosexual feelings. I don’t think he’d still be in
the Marine Corps if he wasn’t. I ain’t say’n ever’ long term
career man in the Marines is a closeted homo, Mr. Winchester, but my
step-dad sure the hell is. Ever’ damn time he forces sex on me he
tells me my dad is a no good, lousy, Goddamn cocksucker. I’m the
son of a cocksucker so I have to be one, too. He tells me he’s
gonna’ make me into a man’s man. Someone whose only purpose in
life is to serve other men’s sexual needs. The worst part is, I
think I’ve gotten to where I like him calling me names and abusing me.”
“Have you told
your mom what he’s doing?”
“He told me if’n
I told, he’d beat the crap out of her. I can’t take that chance,
Mr. Winchester. Whatever she’s done to me or my dad, she’s still
my mom and I love her.”
“That’s
understandable, Son. Have you ever tried just telling him ‘no’
you won’t do it no more?” my dad asked him.
“Yes, Sir, a
couple of times. I’ve even tried to fight him, but he’s as strong
as a bull, Mr. Longhorn. He just gets me in an arm lock and makes
be do what he says. He ties me to the rafters in our barn, takes
his bullwhip to me, won’t let me down until he hears me call him
dad, begging him to let me suck his dick, or begging him to fuck me if
that’s what he wants that night. Sucking him off or getting
fucked by his big ole dick’s a hell of a lot better’n getting my ass
shredded with a bullwhip, Sir.”
“I agree with
you, Dwayne.” my dad said softly shaking his head. He
paused for a moment, then asked Dwayne a pointed question. “Do
you want out, Son?”
“I don’t know,
Mr. Longhorn,— I just don’t know. I’m so damn confused. I know
that sounds crazy. Something tells me to run away and another
part of me pulls me back. I don’t know what to do. How can
you hate someone and want them at the same time? I know what he’s
doing to me is wrong, but how can I walk away when I’m beginning to
really like it with him? I know that sounds sick, but you asked
me to be honest with you and I am. It’s gotten to where I think
he enjoys sex with me more’n my mom.”
“No, Son, it
don’t sound sick to us. We understand what you’re going through;
however, ultimately, only you can answer those questions for
yourself.” Mr. Winchester answered. “None of us are going to
condemn you one way or the other. We won’t try to make up your
mind for you, but we will listen and try to help you understand what’s
happening. Sometimes, it puts things in perspective and you can
see things a bit more clearly when you hear yourself talk about it with
someone who cares about you and won’t judge you. C’mon, Son, Mrs.
Winchester and I will drop you off on our way home. Think about
what we’ve talked about. If you need to talk or want our help all
you have to do is ask.”
“Thanks, Mr.
Winchester,— Mr. Longhorn. I shore’ appreciate your
understanding. Now I know my buddy don’t hate me, I don’t feel so
alone.”
“You ain’t
alone, Son. Don’t never think that. We love you, Dwayne.”
My dad surprised me with his generosity to my buddy. “Casey
thinks of you like you was his brother, and so do I for that
matter. You’re always welcome here, Son.”
Dwayne broke
down again and I held him close.
“My old man’s
right about a lot of things, brother. He sure as hell nailed that
one.” I chuckled.
We said our
tearful goodbyes and Dwayne left with the Winchesters. He lost it
again when my dad took him into his big cowboy arms and just held him
without saying a word. My old man could communicate more with
less words than any man I’ve ever known. Dwayne knew, beyond a
doubt, he was loved and welcome in our home, anytime.
* * * * * * *
We didn’t see
Dwayne the rest of that weekend. I saw him at school the
following Monday, but he didn’t have much to say. I knew he was
upset about me finding out about him and his step-dad. He watched
me closely to see how I would react to him. I tried to be as
supportive and caring as possible without being obsequious. He
came to the head in the gym while I was doing my usual noon time
shaving. We were alone. He leaned against the sink next to
me. I knew he wanted to talk about Friday night.
“You really love
me, Case?” he asked quietly.
“I’d never tell
someone I love them and not mean it, bubba.”
“Would you share
love with me sometime?”
“You mean love
or sex?”
“Both.” he
replied.
“I can share
love with you anytime, bubba, but not sex; leastwise, not the way you
think; not yet, anyways. I promised my dad I wouldn’t have sex
with anyone until I was eighteen. I’ve kept my promise to him so
far, and I got three more years to go. I ain’t apologizing for
it, but I plan on keep’n my promise to him.”
“I understand,
Casey. I know you have some pretty strong ideas about that sort
of thing. I just thought it was because you were religious or
something.”
“I believe
there’s a higher purpose watching over us, but I’m hardly what you’d
call religious. I believe in what the bible says about love,
being good to folks, doing for others when I can, and respecting my
elders. Keeping my promise to my dad is part of loving and
respecting him. If I didn’t, I’d lose all respect for myself.”
“Gees, three
years, that’s a long time.”
“We’re only
sixteen, Dwayne; however, dad never said I couldn’t suck another man’s
dick or mutually masturbate with him. I never have. Why
would I want to? I get all I need at home.” I winked and
gave him a wicked grin.
“Naw,— you ain’t
tell’n me,— you and yore’ dad? That good looking cowboy
hunk? No fuck’n way, Case!”
“Hell,— me’n
him,— we suck each other off all the time. Sometimes I jack him
off, sometimes he jacks me off. Have been ever since my mom
died. Ain’t no big deal, bro, I love my old man.”
“Wait a minute,—
then what about your promise to him?”
“I promised him
I wouldn’t fuck or get fucked until I was eighteen. He thinks I
shouldn’t do it until I’m old enough to make a mature decision for
myself. I just happen to think he’s right.”
“Then,— ”
Dwayne stopped like he was thinking. I could read his mind.
I think I was getting more like my dad every day.
“The answer is
‘yes;’ however, I would’ve never considered doing even that with
another man until I held you in my arms Friday night. I talked it
over with my dad and he agreed. If’n that’s enough for you,
bubba, I’d be right proud to make a little love with ya.’”
Dwayne started
crying right there in the restroom of the gym.
“Hey, bubba, it
ain’t no big thing.” I put my hand on his shoulder and squeezed
it. He smiled at me and pulled himself together.
“It is to me,
Case.” he said softly.
“It is to me,
too, buddy.” I looked in his eyes as I said it. A look of
horror crossed his face. I could read that thought, too, and
grinned at him.
“Not to worry,
bubba,— dad told me we could get the roto-rooter man out to take a look
at chore’ throat for ya’so’s he can open it up for the ‘longhorn.’” I
laughed wickedly. Dwayne threw back his head and roared with
laughter. It was good to hear my buddy laugh again. He
seemed like he was under a dark cloud, but now the sun was beginning to
shine through.
“Oh, fuck!
Now the pieces are beginning to come together about you. No
wonder you ain’t been a sexual hound dog sniff’n around every cunt in
school or even taking advantage of them what tried to drop it in your
lap. You been git’n all you want and need right at home.
Damn, bro, you’ve got to be the luckiest man in school.”
“Pert-damn
close, bubba.” I grinned at him as I put my shaving stuff
away. “I thank God ever’ day for my old man.” I added.
“Won’t your dad
get upset about you and me,— well, you know?”
“No,— I asked
him and he encouraged me. I wouldn’t consider it unless I asked
him first. ‘Sides, I have to share him with Mr. Winchester.”
“This is too
fuck’n much! No! Y’ain’t tell’n me them too fine men are,—
?” He stopped. I just smiled at him and nodded. “Son of a
bitch!” he exclaimed, “Well, why not?” He
allowed. “Ain’t no two finer men no where’s. Why shouldn’t
they deserve to share a little love?” He asked rhetorically.
“Why, indeed,
brother? I can’t think of any reason why
not.”
“Lord, I love my
old man so much, I’d give anything to have something with him like you
have with your dad, Case. You’re dad reminds me of my old man a
lot. That’s why I’m always so shy around him. I guess
because of my crush on my old man, I’m so damn attracted to your dad
I’m afraid he’ll figure it out.”
“Too late,
honcho,— you been busted! He told me a couple of years ago he
thought you were attracted to him, and my dad ain’t conceited.
He’s just a wise and observant man. Mr. Winchester picked up on
it, too. Always remember, we can’t hide much from them two.
My dad don’t care, Dwayne. He loves you for who you are, my buddy, and
my brother. He even refers to you as my brother when he’s talking
about you. He’s the one what got me think’n ‘bout chu’ as my
bubba.”
“Really, Case?”
“Yes,
really. You gotta’ learn there’s folks who can love you, give to
you and receive graciously from you without costing you your
soul. Why, I’d never tie you up and whip your ass,— less’n, of
course, you wanted me to.” I grinned wickedly, pointed my
finger at him like it was a gun, fanned the trigger, then smiled as I
blew away the imaginary smoke from the barrel. He responded by
frogging my arm. It was a good one, too. It smarted.
“Naw, Colonel
Jar-head does enough of that, Case. You didn’t see me all weekend
‘cause my mom didn’t come home from visiting her sister until early
this morning. She called and told him she wouldn’t be home ‘til
then. He give our hired hands the weekend off and kept me tied up
in the barn from Friday night through Sunday evening. Only time
he came out was to lead me to the house with a rope around my neck to
make him and me something to eat. Then he’d take me back to the
barn, whip my ass, have me suck him off or fuck me. It may
be exciting when we do it, but it’s hell being tied up for a couple of
days at a time. I asked him why he just couldn’t love me and let
me give myself to him instead of taking it from me?”
“What’d he say,
bubba?”
“He launched
into another one of his tirades. I don’t know if I can remember all of
it. So much shit comes out his mouth, I think he be cheating his
asshole out of good healthy dump.” We shared a laugh at Dwayne’s
joke.
“He told me he
weren’t no gay, homo, faggot. He was a man who took sex from
others, how and when he wanted it, not when they chose to dole it out
to him. Dwayne went on to describe the Colonel’s rant.
“I take it from
yore’ momma, boy, and I’m take’n it from you when I want it. I
gave you a chance to be my son, my boy, but you rejected my kind offer
to treat you like my own. You’re just another piece of dog shit
in the cantaloupe patch to me now, boy; a piece of queer, homo,
faggot-meat to use and do with as I please. I feel like using you
this weekend ‘cause I ain’t got chore’ momma around to fuck.
Gonna’ keep you tied up so’s I don’t haf’ta’ go ‘round looking for ya’
when I want my dick sucked or a piece of faggot butt. Gonna’
treat you like the animal you are; treat you just like them jar-head
recruits at Pendleton.
You realize,
boy, all I gotta’ do is put in a call to my drill instructor buddy, and
tell him when I’m arriving for inspection. I give him orders to
have a hot recruit waiting for me in his office for me to fuck.
He knows I only fuck virgin, jar-head butt. It’s his job to make
damn sure he picks a choice one, a ripe one, a really tight one, what
ain’t never had no man’s dick up his poop-chute before. He calls
for volunteers for a special assignment. My D.I. oversees him
cleaning himself out and makes sure he’s squeaky clean.
There’ll be hell to pay if Colonel Dunbar pulls his fine prick out of a
recruit’s ass and there’s jar-head shit on it. The D.I. is
personally responsible for greasing up the chosen recruit’s shit
chute. He instructs him how to bend over his desk with his hands
on his butt spreading his pretty cheeks to expose his pink little
rosebud for Colonel Dunbar’s inspection. The D.I. don’t lie to
the recruit. He tells him how fortunate he is to be chosen for
this assignment, to be fucked by Colonel Dunbar, and he’s ordered to
spread his cheeks and put his ass up for as long as the Colonel wishes
to butt fuck him.
The D.I. tells
him to make sure his asshole is just a’ wink’n at the Colonel when he
walks in the room. After I walk into the room, I bark at the
recruit to make his little hole wink faster to let me know how bad he
wants to feel Colonel Dunbar’s big dick shoved into him, and how much
of the Colonel’s cock the recruit hopes I will give him to chow down
on. The faster and harder he winks his hole, the more of Colonel
Dunbar’s sweet dick he’s gonna’ get to feel inside him.
I take my dick
out, walk over to him and shove it home; no introductions, no small
talk, no foreplay, nothing. He volunteered for the assignment,
he’s nothing more than a piece of hot, jar-head flesh to be used for
Colonel Dunbar’s pleasure. It’s an honor for him to give his ass
up for a fellow Marine of higher rank. I don’t ask him if he
wants it or how he wants it. I don’t give a shit how he wants it
or how it feels to him. I take his ass the way I want to.
He gets it how I wanna’ give it to him. If he likes the way I
take him,— fine! If he don’t,— that’s fine, too! If I feel
like fuck’n him nice an easy-like, he gets a sweet, gentle
fuck’n. If I fuck him hard and rough, he grits his teeth and
takes it like a man.
In fact, I’d
rather he didn’t like it. That kind always makes the best fucks
after you first hurt ‘em a little. Just like you, boy, they
become so surprised how good the Colonel starts to feel up there root’n
around in their lower forty. They open up to me like a bloom’n
fly’er. Just like you do, boy, after riding my dick for a few
minutes. You remember how good my big fuck stick feels deep
inside your faggot hole, don’t cha’ boy? Yeah, cocksucker, I know
you do. Can’t get enough of the Colonel’s big dick, can ya’
boy? That’s when I know I’ve got ‘em, when they start fuck’n me
back, boy; just like you start fuck’n back and ride’n my horse dick
with your tight little ass. Feels good to ya,’ don’t it
boy? Ain’t nobody ever gonna’ make you feel as good as the
Colonel. He knows how to take care of a faggot boy’s ass; makes
you feel like you’s caught sight of them pearly gates when he’s take’n
it away from you, don’t he, boy? Yeah, you bet your queer ass, I
do!
They start try’n
to get as much of my big cock in ‘em as quickly as they can. They
suddenly find out, as much as they may have hated it in the beginning,—
they can’t get enough of Colonel Dunbar’s big fuck stick. That’s
when they realize something a drill instructor can’t teach ‘em,
boy. They learn to give themselves up to a man what knows how to
take it from them. They learn the meaning of the word ‘sacrifice’
and‘duty.’ They learn the meaning of the Corps. After I
finish with ‘em and wipe my dick off he’ll beg me for more. He be
just like you, boy, he’ll fall to my feet and kiss my boots sobbing for
the Colonel to take more of his ass. You know why, boy? YOU KNOW
WHY, BOY?! ‘Cause he’s a Marine! ‘Cause he’s a man!
He knows in his heart the meaning of ‘Semper fi!’ He ain’t some
whining, sissy-ass, cocksuck’n faggot, who cries when a man butt
fucks him good and proper!
Only a weak,
come drink’n faggot would ask another man for sex. A real man
takes what he wants when he wants it. He allows no questions nor
grants any requests. The maggot he’s fuck’n is there for only one
purpose, his pleasure. You’re lucky, boy. Since you ain’t
man enough to ever join the Corps I intend to train you to be the best
cocksucker you can be. I’m also gonna’ train you to give your
butt up to a good man like a three dollar whore. You’ll learn
when I snap my fingers you drop to your knees for further
instructions. If I snap my fingers again and point to yore’ ass
you bend over, take your hands and spread yore’ butt cheeks until your
little rosebud is a' wink’n at the man who’s about to mount you.
You keep your little hole just a’ wink’n at him until you feel him
drive his big prick home, deep into your faggot gut. Then you
give him the best ride you possibly can. You never think about
how it feels to you or your pleasure; your only purpose is to please
him and make damn sure you satisfy him.
If I snap my
fingers and point to a man’s crotch. You better damn well have
his penis out within one minute flat, and making serious love to it
until he gives you permission to take him. You ram the man’s
penis down your throat until your lips contact his pubic hairs.
Then you look up at him and wait for him to give you permission to suck
him or he grabs your ears and face fucks you. I’ll teach you to
get yore’ face fucked as hard as yore’ ass. A good saleable
faggot should be able to take a good hard face fuck’n as well as a hard
ass pounding. In a couple more
years you’ll be about ripe for sell’n. I may keep you around for
a year or so after high school for further training and my personal
use. After I break your spirit completely and remold you,— get
chu’ really trained never to complain or question a command, I can name
my price for you, boy. You’ll be so well trained I can sell you
to a man to be his personal servant, sex slave and you won’t never
protest. I’ll be doing your worthless faggot-ass a favor,
boy. You’ll lick my boots in gratitude and thank me for training
you so well. By the time I get ready to sell you, you’ll be so
well trained your greatest pleasure, your only purpose, will be
pleasing your new owner. You’ll lay awake at night thanking me
for turning you into a useful tool for some good man. You’ll be
so happy with your new life you won’t never consider trying to get
away. You’ll resign yourself to spending the rest of your life
being owned my another man.
Of course, I’ll
come visit you once in a while to make sure you’re being cooperative
and earning the money your owner paid for you. ‘At’s all part of
customer service, boy. I wanna’ make damn sure the man what buys
you is satisfied. I may even sell you with an option for further
training if your owner wishes you to lean a new trick or two. He
can return you to me for further, more in depth, perhaps more exotic
training to suit his personal whims. You’ll be a joy to work with
then; because, after some time being devoted to your owner you’ll be
eager to learn any new tricks he wants me to teach you so’s I can
return you to him and please him.”
“He went on and
on, Case, talking crazy talk like that. I can’t tell if it’s a
fantasy of his or if he really means it. I’ll tell ya’ one damn
thing, if’n he’s doing it to scare me, it worked.”
“My God!
That’s unbelievable! Surely he’s jive talk’n you. He’s
gotta’ be blow’n smoke up yore’ ass, honcho! Ain’t no way in this
day and age a man can sell another into slavery, servitude or whatever
he wants to call it. There are severe laws against that sort of
thing. He could easily end up in the pen if he tried anything
that stupid. Damn, man, I think he’s lost it. He’s probably
just getting his rocks off and try’n to scare you to death at the same
time. His type thrive on fear and self-loathing of young men who
are unsure of themselves and their sexual identity. Now here’s
the big question, bubba, how do you feel about what he told you?”
“I don’t really
know. I’m so confused. I guess I really am a mess ‘cause as
much as he scares the hell out a’ me the more his talk turns me
on. Just look at me, Case!”
Dwayne looked
down at his crotch. He was roaring hard from his relating to me
what his step-dad told him. He looked down at mine and I was also
hard as a rock. I couldn’t help it. While I thought what
his dad told him was sick and twisted, I couldn’t help but be aroused
by his words. Dwayne continued.
“I’m so damn
frustrated, Case, I’m about ready to say, ‘Oh, fuck it! Just give
into him completely.’ Let him do with me as he will; become what
he wants me to be. If he really means it, let him sell me to some
man. Maybe he knows what he’s talking about and after he trains
me I won’t care about who uses me. I won’t have to care about
anything anymore except pleasing the man who owns me.”
“Dwayne, you can
see my ole longhorn is just as hard as yours. The fantasy of what
he told you is hot. It’s sexually stimulating. It’s highly
erotic to imagine yourself reduced to a sexual object. Ah, but
when the sun comes up in the morning and sheds its harsh light of
reality on such a fantasy, it’s like what my daddy done told me about
drinking: A sleazy slut can be sit’n at the end of a bar who, by
bar-light and with too many drinks, becomes the most beautiful sight
you think you’ve ever seen; an oasis; a cool drink of clear water in
your sexual desert; however, by morning’s light, when you roll over in
bed to look at her, she sits up, begs, barks at you, then starts
scratch’n fleas, you realize you probably weren’t drinking in a bar but
the local animal shelter.”
“Yeah, I see
what chu’ mean. Yore’ dad’s a funny man. I like the way he
talks. It’s always — .”
“Colorful?”
“Yeah, that’s
it! Damned if he can’t say some, funny, off the wall shit.”
I agreed with him, and we shared a laugh.
“You know what,
bubba? Sounds like you need two things come this evening.
First, we need to go by Mr. Winchester’s, call my dad to come over, and
tell them what chu' jes' done told me.”
“I’d be ashamed
to, Case. They probably already think I’m a nut job.”
“No they
don’t. They would never think that about my brother, besides I
don’t think you’re thinking too clearly about the possible, greater
ramifications of his little talk with you. For sake of argument,
what if what he says is true? What if he really has plans to sell
you into some form of slavery? Stranger things have
happened. Not to worry, Mr. Winchester and my dad can clarify
some things and give you a better picture of the shit he’s throwing at
you. I think he’s damn near about to push you over the edge, past
the point of no return with his brainwashing. He’s had years of
experience training Marine recruits. They build men, you
know? How do you think they do it? By the same techniques
he’s using to fuck with your head. He’s been fuck’n with young
men’s heads and very probably their bodies for years. You won’t
even present a challenge to him. He’ll have you sucked into
whatever demented plan he has in mind for you within another week, a
month at the most, I guaran-damn-tee ya!’”
“What’s the
second thing you said I be need’n this evening, Case?”
“Without a
doubt, you need the strongest, best possible defense against a
seductive evil such as his.”
“What’d that be,
brother?”
“Some good,
strong, powerful hot, old fashion, down-home, cowboy love’n,
bubba.” I grinned at him, “H’it’s the only defense against
the evils of this world.”
“Know where I
can get me some, Case?” Dwayne asked shyly smiling at Casey like
a cat who swallowed the mouse who just fucked the canary.
“I jes’
might,” I mused scratching my chin as if in deep thought,
“but I have ta’ warn ya,’ hoss, it be powerful shit. You’re
probably only gonna’ be able to take it in small doses until you build
up a tolerance to it; kinda let your body and soul adjust to it
some. It can be powerful addictive. You may find yourself
wanting a lot more.”
“When can I take
my first dose, Case?”
“Later, at my
place, after we talk to my dad and Mr. Winchester, and we do our chores
and homework. I’ll ask yore’ mom to let you stay over. She
always says ‘yes’ when I ask her right nice.”
“I love you,
Case.”
“No more’n I
love you, bubba.”
Dwayne looked
like he wanted to kiss Casey in the worse way, but Casey put up his
hand.
“I know what
chore’ think’n and I would like nothing better myself at the moment;
however, we better lay down some ground rules for both our sakes.
No expressions of affection in public,— ever! A look from you is
all I need to know how you feel. The same goes for you.
You’ll know exactly what I’m feeling at any given moment; you just
can’t help it when two men bond with each other.”
“I understand,
Case, and I agree. I won’t never give into that temptation.”
“Good!
C’mon, brother, I’ll walk ya’ to class. We got study hall
together next, anyway.”
* * * * * * *
That evening
after we went by Dwayne’s and did his chores, I asked his mother if
Dwayne could stay over and go to school with me the next day.
“Well, I don’t
know, Casey, he stayed over to your place Friday night.”
“Beggin’ your
pardon, Mrs. Dunbar, he didn’t get to stay the night. His
step-dad called and made him come home to fix his dinner. Mr. and
Mrs. Winchester dropped him off on their way home. I ain’t seen
Dwayne all weekend.”
“Is that true,
Dwayne?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Why didn’t you
tell me you didn’t stay at Casey’s Friday night?”
“I just forgot,
Mom,— besides, I didn’t wanna’ cause no trouble. I done what he
told me to do,— I obeyed him. I’m try’n to do what he
wants. I didn’t give him any trouble, Mom. I didn’t talk
back to him or nothing. I came home and fixed dinner for him like
he ordered me to. I didn’t want him getting mad at me.”
Mrs. Dunbar
stood there not moving for several seconds looking at me, then Dwayne
with a blank look on her face, like she was puzzled about something;
like thoughts were running through her head she didn’t want us to know
about. I hoped she was wondering why her husband didn’t say
anything to her about calling Dwayne home when she gave him permission
to stay the night at our place. I had a feeling Colonel Dunbar
would have to answer some questions about rescinding her
decision. Good! The self-important, pompous bastard needed
a shot fired across his bow.
“Well,— all
right then,” she said sort of resigned, “you can stay the
night at Casey’s.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“Thanks, Mrs.
Dunbar.”
* * * * * * *
I called dad to
come pick us up when we finished Dwayne’s chores, and he was just
pulling in the drive of the Dunbar’s ranch as we came out of the
house. He stopped just long enough to wave to Mrs. Dunbar, for us
to jump in the Bronco, and we were off down the long gravel road from
their ranch. He got to the blacktop and stopped before he pulled
onto the main ranch road.
“You men feel
like stop’n by the Winchester’s on the way home?” My dad casually
asked us.
“I think we need
to, Mr. Longhorn. After talking with my brother here this
afternoon I think I need help, Sir.” Dwayne surprised me by
speaking up. I was proud of him.
“We done told
ju’, Son,— all ya’ gotta’ do is ask. So,— we’re off to see the
wizard.” Dad said as he stepped on the gas. We all laughed
at Dad’s joke; however, there was a lot of truth in his humor. We
all greatly admired Dr. Spencer Winchester. He wasn’t only a
doctor; he was a rancher, a devoted husband, a loyal friend, a mentor,
and one hell of a good man.
“Glad you men
wanted to stop by the Winchester’s. They called and invited us to
dinner, anyway.”
“Great!”
Dwayne and I agreed in unison.
* * * * * * *
We arrived at
the Winchester’s and, as always, Mr. Winchester came clomping down the
front steps of their house in his big cowboy boots. He had hugs
and kisses for everyone. His joy and enthusiasm was
infectious. He was like a huge, giant, St. Bernard dog without
the slobbering. However, I suspected his mouth watered heavily
every time his eyes landed on my dad. After dad and I received our hug
and kiss, Mr. Winchester opened his arms for Dwayne. Dwayne went
to him and started crying in his big arms. Dad and I could see,
for once, Spencer Winchester was unable to respond. He was
overwhelmed and touched by Dwayne’s tears. He just held him all
the more tightly. He stole a couple of kisses and petted Dwayne
to comfort him.
“Oh,
Dwayne,— sweet boy,— I’m so glad you could come with these two
gentleman this evening. I think we have much to discuss. Am
I right, Son?”
“I need help,
Mr. Winchester.”
“We’ll see what
we can do, Son. Come! Come inside, gentlemen, and we’ll
talk.” Spence took my dad’s hat and laid it on the hall table.
Out from the
kitchen came Donna Winchester looking lovely and radiant as ever.
She was bubbling with affection for us all. She particularly
lingered with Dwayne to make him feel as comfortable as we did with the
Winchesters. I could see it was taking its toll on Dwayne. He
loved being with people who appreciated him and loved him for who he
was.
Mr. Winchester
invited us into his study, but before we turned to go I spoke to Mrs.
Winchester.
“Mrs.
Winchester, is there anything in the kitchen I can give you a hand
with?” I asked.
“Lord, I love
ya’ for asking, Casey, but no, I’ve got everything under control.
I think you need to be with the men folk this evening.” she waved
me on with her dishtowel.
We went into Mr.
Winchester’s study, he motioned for us to sit down and told us to make
ourselves comfortable. Dad took one of his large, leather chairs,
and Dwayne and I took the couch. Spence poured himself a couple
of fingers of Scotch.
“So, young
man,” Spence addressed Dwayne as he returned the top to the
Scotch bottle, “I know you been talking to Casey, but we don’t
know how or why you came to your decision you need help. Can you
give us some idea?”
“Yes, Sir, Mr.
Winchester, I —” Dwayne looked at me for help.
“Tell them what
chu' done told me this afternoon about chore’ weekend, bubba.
Don’t leave nothing out, ‘cause if you do I’m here to remind you.
I have a memory like an elephant.” I smiled at Dwayne. He
lowered his head like he was about to be led to the gallows.
“I promise, Son,
anything you tell us will never leave this room.” My dad spoke to
Dwayne.
“Thanks, Mr.
Longhorn. Well,— ”
Dwayne started
in about his weekend being kept tied in the barn the whole time only to
be taken to the house to fix his step-dad and himself food. From
there he went on to describe the lurid sex scenes his step-dad made him
participate in. He related the whole rant his step-dad told
him. As he went on I could see my dad and Spence glancing at each
other once in a while to gage the other’s reaction. At one point
my dad couldn’t listen anymore, got up and started pacing the room
muttering to himself.
“Easy,
Vince.” Mr. Winchester spoke to my dad. “Let’s don’t scare
the kid to death.”
“Of course,
you’re right, Spence. Sorry, Son,— telling us about your step-dad
just reminded me of another cold, heartless, tyrannical bastard I knew
once when I was about your age. Please,— go on.”
Dad regained his
composure and was attentive to the rest of what Dwayne was telling
us. I swear Spencer Winchester’s face changed like a chamaeleon
from minute to minute. One moment he would be white as a sheet
and the next his face would be so red I looked for steam to spout out
of his ears. He would look at my dad, shake his head and a couple
of times he would simply turn his chair away from us altogether like he
was listening, but he wanted something to shield him from Dwayne’s
words.
Finally, Dwayne
stopped and just sat there. We were all looking at him in
silence. He looked up at us and asked a simple question.
“For all of this
I’ve told you, Mr. Winchester, Mr. Longhorn, why don’t I feel more
anger?”
“You wanna’ take
this one, or you want me to, Spence?” Dad asked Mr.
Winchester. Spence half smiled, nodded, and with a wave of his
hand indicated for my dad to go for it.
“Dwayne,— Son,—
you’re only sixteen Goddamn years old; same’s your brother sitting
there next to you. You’re too damn young to have problems and
shit like this to handle in your life. I know the two of you are
growing up fast, but damn it, you still have a lot of growing up to do
yet. This should be the best time of your life for you, and you
shouldn’t have to have crap in your life like this right now. You
shouldn’t even have to be forced to make a decision about whether to be
angry or not.
You don’t know
whether to be angry? Let Spence and me answer that question for
you, Son. Yes, Dwayne, be very angry! Be very, very
angry! You have every right to be angry, Son. He’s breaking
every Goddamn law on the books that protect minors from predatory
monsters like him. Angry? Damn, straight you should be
angry. If you can’t find it in your heart to be angry, let Spence
and me be angry for you. Let us be your ombudsmen. I’m glad
you came to us with this. We were really worried about you after
the other night.
Selling you into
sexual slavery, indeed! What is that mental midget think’n about
telling you something like that. Whether he’s kidding or not
ain’t the point, Son. It’s reprehensible he even has the gall to
tell you such a thing in the first place, and being of a mature age to
be a responsible adult, unless he’s a fuck’n madman, which he well may
be, I have to take him seriously. To do otherwise, Dwayne, would
be inviting disaster. Am I right, Spence?” Dad deferred to
Mr. Winchester.
“Listen to him,
Dwayne. He comes off as being a good ole boy, a cowboy, a
hayseed, a country bumpkin, but the man is far from that. His
sense of right and wrong is as good and many times better than any man
I’ve ever known. You’re doing fine, brother,” Spence
Winchester chuckled and winked at my dad, “go on, Vince, and when
you’re through, I’ve got a few choice words for the boy, myself.”
Dad smiled and continued.
“Son, you hear
of kids disappearing all the damn time, and they’re never seen or heard
from again. So, it ain’t inconceivable he has exactly that in
mind for you. To chalk his comments off to scaring you just to
manipulate you is utter hogwash. Furthermore, his threat of
hurting yore’ mom is pure, unadulterated bullshit. Are you
kidding me? Hurt yore’ momma? He’s bluffing to control
you. What would it accomplish? He ain’t no fool! He
may have a terminal case of the ‘dumbs,’ but I doubt right seriously
the man’s stupid.
Listen, Son,
I’ve know'd your momma and yore’ daddy, Rance, for years. I was
your dad’s best man at their wedding. Betcha’ didn’t know that,
did ja’? There’s a few other things you don’t know either. I know
yore’ momma, boy. The first hand Colonel Jar-head laid on her
she’d have his Marine-ass in jail so Goddamn fast he wouldn’t have time
to yell, ‘Semper fi,’ and he wouldn’t get out until his walk’n papers
was served to him, I guaran-damn-tee ya.’ Slap yore’ momma around
and take a chance on kill’n the golden goose what got ‘em that
ranch? Ya’ think? I think not!”
I’d never seen
my dad worked up into such a fevered pitch. God, was I proud of
my old man. He was telling Dwayne exactly the things he needed to
hear; how the proverbial old cow ate the cabbage. I think at that
moment I began to appreciate my dad for the complete man he really
was. My boyhood fascination and my adolescent crushes on my dad
suddenly morphed into a more mature respect, admiration and love for
the man who was my father. He was no longer just my silly ideal
of him as a ‘sex machine.’ All those trappings, fascinations and major
crushes, were stripped away, and fully clothed, he stood there before
me, more naked than I’d ever seen him. I saw him for who he
really was, a good man. Mr. Winchester's description nailed my
old man to the barn door. Vincent Longhorn, my father, aspired to
be nothing more than a brown dirt cowboy, but his sense of right and
wrong was faultless.
End Chapter 5 ~
Texas Longhorns Copyright 2005 ~
Waddie Greywolf All rights
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