I went to the
double ‘R’ and cleaned myself, showered, and inserted my plug. I
did it all in about forty-five minutes. Not a new record for me,
but a good time. I wanted to be ready when Master Waddie
arrived. I didn’t have to wait long. He knocked lightly on
the door. I went to let him in. I opened the door, and when
I saw him he took my breath away. How could I have forgotten how
attractive to me he was? I was with him all day. We’d only
been apart for an hour. He smiled, and I invited him in. I
closed the door and set the latch. I returned to him, slowly
dropped to my knees in front of him and kissed each of his big boots.
“Git up here,
boy,— in yore’ Master’s arms, and show him your love.”
I was in Master
Claymore’s arms in a second and kissing him with everything in my
heart. Damn,— the man could say the right thing just at the right
minute, to get my everything laid at his feet. I didn’t give a
shit if our love lasted more than tonight, I felt love for him right at
that moment. The ‘L’ word had never been mentioned between us
until he spoke it. How else could you define what we felt for
each other,— lust? Perhaps,— but somehow, jumping into a Master’s
arms to show my lust for him just didn’t quite get it.
He continued to
kiss me with no sign of wanting to break apart. His right hand
moved slowly down my backside to my butt. I knew where he was
going, but he didn’t rush. He moved slowly until his big hand
found my plug. He gently and slowly began to fuck me with it
while still making love to me. I didn’t know what was happening
to me, I never felt more wanted and appreciated, nor wanted a man as
much as I wanted Master Claymore at that moment.
He refused to
break off his kiss but kept playing gently with my plug in my
ass. I could feel a climax building within me. I didn’t
want to come yet. I tried to pull away from our kiss, but he was
almost a third larger than I, and he held me even tighter in his
arms. He continued to kiss me until I realized he wasn’t going to
let me go. I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to give in
to him. He wanted to control this moment no matter what
happened. If I came all over him he didn’t care, but it was
important for me to submit to him.
It was so
simple, and yet, it was wonderful. I felt like I was setting
myself free, giving my trust over to him. I relaxed, stop
struggling and gave myself to him. He felt it the minute I did,
and he kissed me even harder with more passion. He began fucking
me just a bit more deeply with my plug, and once again, I felt a climax
boiling up inside me. This time I just accepted the consequence
of whatever might happen. I continued to make love to him, and he
drank me in like a thirsty man who just found an oasis in the
desert. He was playing me and my body like a master musician, and
he knew I was very close. I didn’t try to pull away. I let
myself go, and I exploded all over him and his leathers. I got
very little on me. Still he continued his kiss until he was ready
to break it off. When he did he kissed me again gently.
“You jes’
learned a lesson, didn’t chu,’ honcho?”
‘Oh, my God, he
just called me ‘honcho.’ That’s my dad’s favorite name for
me.’ I thought. My heart leapt to my throat, and I almost
lost it.
“Yes,
Sir.” I said meekly in an unstable, barely audible voice.
“And what did
ju’ learn, boy?” He asked almost in a whisper as he stole another
kiss.
“To respect,
trust and submit to my Master, Sir— to give him control when we’re
together.”
“Good boy,—
that’s exactly what you should’ve learned.” he gently kissed me
on my forehead.
“Do you fear
giving me control, Son?” he asked quietly. “Lord, no,
Master Claymore! I feel as safe with you or safer than I do my
own dad. You would never harm me.”
“That’s right,
Son. It’s part of the trust you jes’ spoke of. You must
trust and respect me to do the right thing for us. Have I failed
you so far? Either with a rope or here in your coach?”
“Not in the
least! On the contrary, I’ve wanted everything we’ve done
together. I feel free when I give to you. I realized today,
I was doing it last night, and I loved it. I realized this
afternoon I was giving you everything I had when I tossed my rope
because I wanted to please the man I come to love. I also ain’t
afraid none to tell you I love you, Master Claymore.”
“Neither
am I, Son. I wouldn’t be teaching you these simple manners if’n I
didn’t love you and thought they might only improve you as a man.
I can tell you, in all good faith, I love you and always will no matter
how brief our time together. What we had last night, today and
right now will never leave our hearts. It will become a good part
of us to carry though life.”
“You know I’ve
become your slave for our time together, don’t chu,’ Master
Waddie?” I asked him softly with my eyes cast downward. He
paused for a moment before he answered.
“I know you
have, Casey, and I’d be awful damn proud to accept your gift. I’d
be downright proud to be your Master while we’re together; however,
before you fully decide to give me this gift of yourself as my slave,
even for a short while, you must consider,— a part of you will always
and forever remain as my slave. A part of me will always be your
Master, and we will always recognize each other that way. It’s a
part of an unbreakable bond between two men more ancient than recorded
history. I never asked to be with you to make you my slave, even
for a little while. Are you sure that’s what you want, Son?”
“With all my
heart, Master Waddie. While I know I’m not the slave for you, I’d
very much appreciate being your slave for this while.”
“All right,
then,— lay yourself out prostate before me, request to pay homage to my
boots; then, as always, you must ask for what you want.”
I didn’t
hesitate to lay myself out before him with my arms straight out from my
sides. I was laying on the carpet of the coach, and he made sure
his big, black boots were on either side of my head.
“Please, Master
Waddie, Sir,— I would be most honored and proud to pay homage to your
boots. Will you, please, consider giving me the privilege, Sir?”
“I will consider
it, boy, but first,— bring your hands up and place them under my boots,
and then, I will give you permission.”
I did as he
asked. He raised the front of each of his boots as I laid my
hands beneath them. He gently but firmly lowered them on top to
hold them fast. My dick couldn’t have been more hard. I
thought the damn thing was going to break or rip my foreskin.
Blood was rushing to all extremities of my body, and I felt like I’d
been set on fire. It was a powerful moment to feel my hands under
his big boots; under his guidance; under his control; however, I never
felt more comfortable or right with a decision in my life. This
was something I wanted; no, it was something I needed to be.
“You may now pay
homage to my boots, boy.” He spoke gently.
I licked,
tasted, and cleaned the toe of each of his handsome boots. When I
was through, I kissed each one hard, pressing my lips into the leather
so he might feel it on his foot. I raised myself slightly not
daring to look up at the man I would ask to become my Master.
“Master Waddie,
Sir,— would you please consider taking the humble, inexperienced man
for your slave, Sir? I would be most proud and honored to give
myself to you to be your slave, Sir.”
“I will accept
you as my good slave, boy. If you choose to accept and
acknowledge this man as your Master, pay homage to my boots once more.”
Once again I
lovingly kissed each boot. I was about to come again. I
hoped I could control it.
“Master Waddie,
Sir,— I’m about to come again, Sir.”
“Raise yourself
and come on my boots, my good slave.”
Damn, once again
he knew exactly the right words to say to trip my switch. I unloaded
the biggest load I think I ever shot onto the toes of his big, black
boots. It made a wonderful greyish-white contrast to the
starkness of his boots.
“I am now your
Master and you are my slave, boy. Now,— your first order from you
Master is to git me one of them beers you had Cowboy buy you at the
store today. I’ll set here and drink it while I enjoy watching
you clean me up.”
“Yes, Sir,
Master Claymore. Did cowboy tell you about the beer? It was
suppose to be a surprise for you.”
“Honestly, Son,
he didn’t. When I walked into the house this afternoon he had two
six packs of my favorite beer he was trying to hide from me before I
saw them. I knew immediately who they were for and why.
If’n he hadn’t a’ tried to hide ‘em, I wouldn’t ‘a paid it no never
mind. I played like I didn’t notice anything, and he thought I
was none the wiser.”
I went to the
small fridge in the kitchen area and got him a beer. I popped it
for him and took it to him. He was already sitting on the couch
with his legs spread and his arms resting of the back of the
couch. He had my come all over his fine looking boots. I
got on my knees, but I didn’t forget my manners.
“Please, Master
Claymore, Sir. May I clean your boots and your leathers for you,
Sir?”
“I think you
should,— don’t chu,’ boy?”
“Oh, yes, Sir, I
agree. It’s my mess, I should clean it up for you, Sir.”
“Exactly,
Son.” he smiled, leaned back and took a big swig of his beer.
I cleaned every
drop of my come off of him. It was different somehow. I
felt like I was no longer doing it because I respected him, but I was
now doing it because it was my duty and responsibility as his slave to
take care of my Master. My dick was still hard. I don’t
think it ever went down the entire time Master Waddie and I were
together. After I finished and he was satisfied, we moved to the
bedroom as quickly as possible. Master Claymore was as anxious to
get into my ass as I was to have him there.
“Damnation,
slave! My balls ‘er turn’n blue they be aching so bad.
Let’s us get my old dick up yore’ butt pert-damn quick, boy. We
need to git chu’ fucked. I feel the need for a good, long fuck’n
come’n on, Son. Maybe two,— two and a half hours of some
intensive butt fuck’n to relax us and set our hearts at ease with one
another.
You know,— most
of the men in our family believe two men what are jes’ falling in love
with each other and having lots ‘a good sex are calmer, more focused,
and more accurate with their roping. I’ve personally seen it
happen several times, Son. It’s happen to me a number of
times. It happened to us today in that arena out there. Two
men in love jes’ can’t be beat, Son. They’s like them Greek
warriors of olden days what went into battle with their mates by their
side and fought heroically so’s they’re partner would be proud of
them. They was difficult to defeat. So, hang onto yore’
ass, my new and good slave, this is gonna’ be a long fuck’n
tonight. You’n me,— we got us a rodeo to win, and I’m damn sure
gonna’ do my part.”
He laughed and
gave me permission to remove his codpiece. I lubricated his long
penis, he popped out my plug and slammed his big cock to the hilt into
my ass. I immediately melted. He was so right. His
dick filling my hole had the most relaxing, calming effect on me.
Damn, this was where I needed to be, on the receiving end of Master
Waddie’s big dick. I settled in for a long night’s fuck.
Once again, we talked a little as he fucked me.
“Master Waddie,
when I rode up to you and Mr. Yates on my pony this afternoon, I heard
the last of a conversation you were having with him and you told him,
‘But, alas, he belongs to another man.’ What did you mean by
that, Sir?”
“Dan asked me if
there was a future for you and me. I told him ‘no.’ I told
him we both realize it, but it weren’t gonna’ stop us from sharing what
little time we might have together. I explained to him there was
a couple ‘a reasons. First of all, is our age difference.
If’n I was even ten years younger, if you consented, I’d cast all
reason aside, I’d toss a rope around your pretty little cowboy ass and
take you for my permanent slave in a cow town minute. I would love you
like no other; however, I can’t turn back my clock ten years, so that’s
out of the question. Then I told him the main reason was, alas,
you already belonged to another man,— and you do, Son. You jes’
ain’t realized it yet, but you will in time. I’m a’ hoping it
don’t take you as long as it did me. Maybe that’s the reason
providence brought us together. We both know it’s only for a
little while, but we have something to give each other,— maybe a lesson
to be learned from one another.”
“You could only
be talk’n about my dad. Ain’t that right, Master Waddie?”
“Yes, Son, I
am. Right now, you belong to yore’ daddy. It might not
always be that way, it may change in the future, but for now, he owns
you, Casey, as much or more than I own you right this minute.
Before you go throw’n up a bunch of defensive arguments, hear me out,—
listen to what I have to say. You asked yore’ daddy some time ago
to make you his, and he did. Whether he did it consciously by
design or yore’ relationship just naturally progressed that way, it
don’t matter none. That man’s in love with you, Son. He’s
already done claimed you for his own. I remember seeing you
together and watching you rope. Y’ain’t only jes’ his son, boy,
you’re his everything. You’re his reason for being. You’re
is possession; however, somehow, I don’t think he did it alone.
You thought you
knew what you wanted when you were younger. You was jest’ a kid,
you didn’t know what chu’ was doing at the time, you felt his pain, you
reached out and knew you needed to give yourself to him,— but after you
gave yourself to him, you grow’d up. You thought you were on an
equal basis with him and now you were grow’d up, you though he didn’t
need you so much. You decided you needed to spread your wings and
fly a bit.
Ever’ young’un
has to leave the nest some time. H’it’s a part of the flow of
life. H’it’s only natural for a young man to wanna’ be out on his
own to explore the world. Well, that’s what chu’ be doing right
now, while that man’s at home without his treasure; without the
treasure you gave to him as surely as you gave yourself to me this
evening. He had to let chu’ go, because he knew if he didn’t you
might never come to your senses and come home to him. He had to
take the gamble. He didn’t have no other choice. He knows
you have to discover for yourself you belong to him and no other, and
you will. It’ll jes’ take a little time,— but not a lot, I’ll
wager. Besides, you need to be owned by a man, Son. You
already know that. I can tell by the way you respond to me, you
need a man to serve. You’ll never be happy doing anything
else. The man you will serve will be your dad, Son. He will
become your Master and you will become his slave. You won’t have
as clearly defined roles as we have in our family, but basically, it’ll
be the same. Now,— that ain’t as bad as it may sound. Them
things is jes’ words. If they don’t apply to you, or you
don’t want them to apply to you then, they’re meaningless. You’ve
been living the same role with yore’ daddy for seven years as you are
with me, tonight. I’m jes’ taking the place of yore’ daddy for a
while, but that ain’t bad neither. I’m loving every minute of it,
and I know you are,— right?”
“Yes, Sir.
Is that why I feel so comfortable with you, Master Waddie? Is
that why I know you’re totally different from my dad, and yet, I have
the same feelings for you as I do my dad?”
“Yes, Son, it
is. Yore’ daddy and me is different. We’re different men;
however, part of us is the same. We expect you to allow us to
control you. No matter how you dress it up, no matter how you
define it, it’s still control, and we don’t even have to demand
it. You’re so anxious and willing to please, you automatically
give us control. There ain’t no confusion in yore’ mind how you
must act or what you must do to please us. You took a little
taste of my recycled beer this morning because you thought it might
please me. I’d be a damn liar if’n I said it didn’t, but chu’
didn’t have to. I told ju’ from the start, I wouldn’t ask nothing
unusual from you. I would’ve never asked you to do it. You
were willing to do something totally against your nature to prove your
sincerity and devotion to me. Bottom line, Son,— you’re most
comfortable when you feel you can give the man you’re with total
control over you,— but again,— that ain’t a bad thing. It’s a
very good thing. What would us men, who must be in control, do
without someone who has to be controlled. It’s yin and yang,
Son. One needs the other to be complete. Without someone in
my life to control, I’m incomplete. Likewise, without someone in
yore’ life to control you, you’re incomplete. You’ll never be
happy without it.”
“In a way, it
sounds kinda scarey, Master Waddie. Until I met chu,’ Sir, I
ain’t never though about nobody controlling me, but I won’t deny I
needed to give myself to you tonight. I need to be under your
control. I’m most comfortable with another man that way. I
think I’m beginning to see your point. It makes a lot a’
sense. What you say may be right, Master Waddie, but I don’t
think I’m ‘in’ love with my dad, Sir.”
“You are, Son,—
you jes’ don’t realize it yet,— but chu’ will. In a way, it’s
kinda like you pointing out to me and waking me up to how Titus feels
about me. I probably would ‘a never noticed unless he hit me up
side the head with a two by four and told me he was in love with
me. That jes’ ain’t Titus’s way. I might have missed out on
the opportunity of my lifetime were it not for you. I have a
feeling this trip is gonna’ bring it all home to you, and it’s gonna’
make things more clear. Absence makes the heart grow fonder is a
true statement. It’s gonna’ wake you up to the treasure you
have at home, waiting for you. Yore’ daddy is your treasure,
Son. Tell me,— why do you wear that plug in yore’ butt, boy?”
“Because my
daddy likes it. It pleases him, so I learned to wear it for
him. I brought it along, because I thought it might please some
other man I might go with,— like you.”
“It certainly
does please me. I understand why it turns yore’ daddy on.
It makes my dick hard and rips me a new asshole ever’ time I see that
thing in yore’ little butt. I think it’s a damn good idea, and if
Titus becomes my slave he’ll learn to wear one,— but why do you wear it
every night, Son,— whether you have someone with you or not?”
“How do you know
that, Master Waddie?” I turned my head to him in surprise.
“Jes’ tell me,
boy,— is it true or am I full of shit?” he firmly demanded.
I paused before
I answered. I couldn’t lie to the man I just accepted as my
Master. I wouldn’t want to lie to him anyway.
“Naw, Sir,— you
ain’t full ‘a no shit.”
“Truth is,— you
can’t sleep without it,— can you, boy?”
I was bemused,
embarrassed and a little unnerved by his insights. I immediately
broke into tears. He was getting a little too close to
home. How could I be that transparent to this man? He held
me tightly and comforted me. He continued to fuck me so sweetly, I was
sure he was trying to heal my soul through his fuck’n. I swear
the man’s dick was medicinal. I got myself together. I knew
I didn’t need to fear being totally honest with the man who owned me.
“You’re right,
Master Waddie,— I’ve slept with it ever’ damn night I been away from
home. I tried one night to go to sleep without it, and I jes’
couldn’t. I tossed and turned until the sun come up. I got
up, greased up my plug, shoved it up my butt, went back to bed, and
immediately fell asleep. I slept half the day. I jes’ gave
up trying to sleep without it, Sir.”
“And, why do you
think that is, Son?”
“‘Cause it
reminds me of my daddy; because it pleased him. I don’t feel so
far away from him when my plug’s in my butt. I can almost feel
him in bed beside me when I’m wearing it. Oh, dear God,— I see
what you’re getting at. It’s nothing more than what I’ve been
doing with you. I do things your way and for you to please
you. If I wasn’t doing them for you, and I was at home right now,
I’d be doing them for my dad.”
“You’re learning
fast, Son. You’re gonna’ git there with no problem. I have
no doubt. Yore’ plug sort of acts like a baby’s pacifier for you,
don’t it? You jes’ be suck’n on it with your other end.” He
laughed as he took another long, slow slide deep into my ass.
Master Waddie
knew what I needed. I needed a good, long fuck’n that
night. It was the longest, single fuck’n I ever had in my life;
two hours and twenty-six minutes, and I loved every minute of it.
We repeated it the next night and every night we were at the Broken
Arrow. Then we continued it at his son’s ranch outside a small
West Texas town called Chapel Creek. Master Waddie worked with
me. He talked with me by the hour.
He taught me to
neither be afraid nor ashamed of being subservient, and I should be
proud to serve a good man, especially my dad. He told me it
wasn’t a weakness but a great strength to be able to understand my deep
need to give control to another man; however, I must be careful and not
give myself to a soulless man, or as he called them, a meat
machine. I told him about my brother and Colonel Dunbar, and he
said the Colonel was a classic example of a soulless man. He’s
nothing more that a meat machine walking around trying to suck other
folk’s souls from them. The more Master Claymore taught me, the
more I loved and trusted him.
I was concerned
about his road buddy, but he told me not to be, he knew what he was
doing. He was beginning to pay more attention to his road
partner’s reactions to him, and thanks to my telling him my
observations, he came to realize what I said about Mr. Titus just might
be true. If Mr. Titus was willing, Master Waddie would ultimately
claim Mr. Titus for his slave; however, he firmly
believed God brought us together for a reason, and he only had a
limited amount of time with me to be my Master; then we would go our
separate ways, but as long as I accepted him as my Master, his slave
would sleep with him. I assured him I did accept him as my Master
and thought of myself as his new, untrained but willing slave.
He carefully
explained to me there were things he needed from me no one else could
give him right then. I knew from the way we made love and the way
he firmly but demandingly took from me what I so readily gave to him,
he was drinking deeply from the fount of my love. He explained
more of the things I needed from him, and he was always right. I
never found a flaw in his logic or explanations about anything.
We bonded for that brief period of time, and we still carry it with us
today. He was right,— a part of me is still his slave, and to my
joy, he never allows me to forget he is still my Master.
He was so right
about how our love would effect our roping. It amazed even
me. We rodeoed like we fucked, with strength, conviction, dogged
determination, concentration, precision and grace. We were in
love with each other. He was my unquestioned Master and I was his
slave. Nothing or no one in the world mattered to us for those
few days. No one could touch us. I had an epiphany during
those days,— why Spencer Winchester was so sure my dad and I would win
the rodeo the day after the night dad first let me suck him off?
Spencer Winchester knew I gave myself to my dad, dad accepted my gift,
and we were in love. I remembered the feeling that passed between
my dad and me. Then as now, no one could touch us that day.
It was because I gave myself to him as surely as I gave myself to be
Master Waddie’s slave; he accepted my gift, and I became his. He
owned me that day. I was not only his son but also his
possession. I belonged to him and no other;— he became my Master.
* * * * * * *
Master Waddie
and I won both days at the Tucson rodeo and took top prize money for
team roping. We were thrilled and everyone at the ranch
celebrated with us. Dan Yates was happy. We entered as
cowboys representing the Broken Arrow ranch. I won second place
in the calf roping event and some more money. Master Waddie was
really proud of me,— just like my dad would’ve been.
* * * * * * *
I ran into my
brother’s dad at the rodeo and introduced Mr. Claymore to Rance.
I was surprised they already knew each other and had rodeoed together
many times in the past. Rance watched us rope. He was wowed
by Master Waddie’s and my times. He was proud of me for coming in
second in calf roping. Rance got me aside during lunch one day.
“That big man’s
fuck’n you, ain’t he, Son?” he grinned real big like he was happy
for me, “If’n you ain’t give’n up yore’ cowboy ass to him, yore’
a gotdamn fool, boy, and I know’d my brother didn’t raise his boy to be
no fool!” he laughed.
“Yes, Sir.
Ever’ damn night I been staying out to the Broken Arrow. He fucks
me a couple a’ hours ever’ night. He fucks me sometimes one or
two more times during the night.”
“Holy
shit! H’its a miracle you got an asshole left.” my cousin
roared with laughter, “Hell, h’it’s a wonder you can sit a
pony! ‘At’s why you’re winning, boy. You two been
exchanging a little bit of each other’s soul as Dwayne said Lamar calls
it. You be in love, Son.”
“Not for long,
Sir,— well, that ain’t right true,— I’ll always love Master Waddie;
however, he’s on a motorcycle run with his biker family. They’re
taking off for Key West, Florida right after the rodeo. I’m
head’n on down the road. ‘Sides there’s a real good looking man
about his age, who’s in love with him and wants to become his slave.”
“You take love
where you finds it, boy,— even if it’s only for a little while.
Don’t never deny yore’self a chance to love somebody. It’ll stay
with you the rest of your life. I know about the men at the
Broken Arrow. I been out there several times. They got a
different way a’ look’n at things, a different way a’ living, but I
can’t fault ‘em none. Seems to make a lot of sense to me.
They sure as hell stay together once they’s bonded. They must be
doing some’um right.”
“I agree,
Sir. I told Mr. Claymore if we didn’t have other obligations I’d
jump at the chance to be his permanent slave.”
“You done
already asked that big man to be your Master,— ain’t chu,’ Son?”
He smiled at me knowingly.
“Yes, Sir, I
became his slave last night. I gave myself to him, Cousin
Rance. I wanted Master Waddie to be my Master for the time we
have together.”
“H’it don’t
matter none whether you’re his slave for a night or ten years, what’s
important is you both felt the need to bond and you done it. Good
for you, Son. I’ll tell you something I don’t never want chu’
tell’n my boy. If’n Lamar weren’t my boys chosen mate and things
turned out different, if he and I were alone together, I would claim
him for my own, send him for slave training with Master Waddie’s
family, and made him my slave.”
“Really,
Sir? You mean that?”
“Damn straight,
boy! God’s honest truth! I come to love my boy as much as
yore’ daddy loves you, and I’d never wanna’ do without him. As it
turns out, Lamar’s become his Master and orders him to take care of his
daddy. Even when he’s home, he sends his boy into me several
nights a week to take care of me. Says he loves to fuck him after
I come in him so’s he can push my seed further up in him. He says
Dwayne’s a better fuck after he takes care of his daddy. When
Lamar’s home, Dwayne don’t take a shit without first asking his
‘Master’ if’n it’s okay. They don’t call it Master and slave but
it’s the same damn thing Master Waddie’s family practices.
I know yore’
Master’s son, Gip Claymore, pretty well. He’s sheriff of
the next county over from the county where me’n yore’ daddy grow’d
up. He comes to a couple of the rodeos every year with his boys
where we supply the stock. I been to his ranch. He’s got a
nice place.”
“Cousin Rance,
Sir,— I’d appreciate you not telling my daddy about any of this.
I’m gonna’ tell him about Mr. Claymore being my partner, but he don’t
need to know the other. I’ll tell him in time. I want him
to know what I’ve learned about myself and him from Master Waddie.”
“You know me
better’n ‘nat, boy. I’d never talk about another man’s business
with nobody. Ain’t none ‘a my concern, no how. You’re a
grown man now, Casey. You’s out in the world doing your own
thing. Yore’ right, he don’t need to know the details. Jes’
remember, though,— yore’ daddy ain’t be’n no celibate monk, ya’
know? He’s been plowing yore’ little brother’s ass like it’s the
lower forty, and he’s late get’n his crops in.
We shared a
laugh, then he had to get back to work.
* * * * * * *
I phoned dad my
last night at the Broken Arrow to tell him my news.
“Longhorn ranch.”
“Dad, it’s me,—
Casey.”
“How are you,
Son, we was beginning to git a mite worried,— we ain’t heard from you
for a while.”
“I know, and I’m
sorry. I’m fine, Dad. Better’n fine, I won the Tucson rodeo
with my partner, and I won second in calf rope’n.”
“Congratulations,
Son, that is good news. Who’d ju’ team up with?”
“An older
gentleman I met here at a ‘rodeo friendly’ ranch I’m staying at for the
rodeo. Remember the older cowboy, Mr. Claymore, and his
partner who used to beat us all the time,— it’s him, dad.”
I noticed a
pause, and my dad was silent on the other end for a minute.
“Dad?”
“Oh,— great,
Son. I’m sorry my brain got a hiccup there for a minute. Waddie
Claymore’s always seemed like a good man. He’s always been nice
to me’n you.” “He is,
Dad. He’s on a motorcycle run with his family of bikers.
They’re on their way to Key West, Florida and jes’ stopped by the
Broken Arrow ranch because the owner’s are good friends of
theirs. Mr. Claymore saw me at a gas station and thought he
recognized me. They pulled in and showed me the way out to the
ranch. The men who own the ranch have been really good to let me
board Rocky and park the double ‘R’ on their back lot. Mr.
Claymore’s regular partner, Mr. Winston, ain’t with him on his bike
run. He weren’t gonna’ rope in the rodeo ‘cause he didn’t have no
partner.”
“Glad you’re
having a good time and meet’n some nice folks. Mr.
Claymore’s a fine cowboy. You can learn a lot from him,
Son.”
“I have,
Dad. He taught me a lot of roping tricks what’s improved me lot.
He’s a generous man with his rope’n tips. We’ve rodeoed together
for several days now, and I’ll miss him for a partner when they
leave. I really miss you, Dad. I wish you was here with
me.” I started to tear up. He heard it in my voice.
He was silent for another moment, and I knew he probably had a
lump in his throat.
“I miss you,
too, Son.” was all he said, but it was in a cracked voice.
I could tell it got to him. “Where you going next, honcho?”
“Ain’t real
sure, Dad. Ain’t made up my mind. There’s a rodeo in most
major towns in the West here for the Fourth. Mr. Yates, the owner
of the ranch, said they’s going to the Prescott Fourth of July rodeo
and invited me to come along. He said it was pretty big and had
top prize money for rope’n. I may tag along, they been so good to
me.”
“Sounds good,
Son. I wish’t we could ‘a made some of them rodeos, but
they’s jes’ a little too far for me to travel.”
“I know, Dad,
but that’s okay. I love the ones we got to, and we will again.”
“I hope so, Son.”
“Gotta’ run,
Dad,— they jes’ rang the triangle for chow. I love you, Dad.”
“I love you,
too, Son.”
I hung up, sat
there and cried like a baby. I was glad Master Waddie was there
to hold me in his big arms and comfort me. I told him I was
beginning to believe what he told me about belonging to my dad.
* * * * * * * My time at the
Broken Arrow with the men of Master Waddie’s extended family was
certainly an eye-opening experience for me. While I didn’t fully
understand their ways, I was beginning to see some benefits of their
form of relationship. They certainly formed, what seemed to me,
the strongest of bonds between two men I ever witnessed. I
certainly found it comfortable being Master Waddie’s slave. Maybe
what Master Waddie was telling me was true. Maybe I did belong to
my dad. Of course I belonged to him, he was my dad for cries
sake, but Master Waddie was suggesting a deeper meaning to our
relationship I never considered.
I decided to
accept Master Waddie’s invitation to travel with him and his biker
family to his hometown for their Fourth of July rodeo. He wanted
me to follow him and Mr. Titus on their bikes, but I knew he and his
family were capable of traveling at much faster speeds than I could in
the double ‘R.’ I told him to ride with them, and I would find my
way. I had all kinds of maps with me and saw no problem getting
there. He didn’t like that idea. “Can yore’ coach
pull two ponies, Son?”
“Yes, Sir, with
no problem.”
“Well,— then
I’ll ride with you, and we’ll pull our ponies.”
It didn’t dawn
on me for a minute, ‘cause I thought he wanted to take one of the
ponies from the Broken Arrow to his hometown.
“You gonna’
leave you bike here at the ranch, Master Waddie?”
“No, Son, my
Harley’s the other pony.” He laughed at me.
“You sure you
wanna’ do that, Master Waddie?”
He looked at me,
smiled, and raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, Sir,
Master Waddie. I’d enjoy your company, Sir.”
He rode his bike
up the ramp into the trailer the night before we left and secured it
with bungie-cords. All we had to do was load Rocky early the next
morning. Master Waddie decided since he wasn’t going to be on his
bike he’d be more comfortable in his Western clothes. It didn’t
matter to me, he was just as good looking either way. I did,
however, notice he stored his leathers in my bedroom. He grinned
real big at me when he walked out. I got his message and smiled
back.
Before we left
the Broken Arrow, I told Master Waddie about my blue contact lens and
my plan to wear them to his rodeo so it would hide my violet eyes
should I accidentally run into my granddad. He thought it was a
good idea. I put them in the next morning to go to
breakfast. He really did a double take when he saw me.
“Damn, them
things really make your eyes a deep blue color. I like yore’
violet eyes, but them things really makes your eyes look,— striking, I
guess is the word I’m looking for.”
“Ya’ think
they’re too obvious, Sir.”
“No,— just to
anybody who’s used to seeing yore’ pretty violet eyes.” The day starts
early on a ranch and everyone was up and ready to ride by the time the
sun was coming up in the East. We went into breakfast and
everyone had a comment about my eyes. I explained over breakfast,
since my dad had such bad feelings about his dad and I never met him,
if I accidentally ran into him, I wanted a chance to meet or observe
him before I let him know who I was. They all agreed, all things
considered, it might be a wise idea.
“I ain’t real
sure the biker I met twenty years ago was yore’ granddaddy, Son.”
Master Waddie said to me.
“Wait a
minute,” said Dan Yates, “Cowboy, you remember that good
looking biker who came to the ranch for a couple of days when Gracie
was born. (Gracie was a baby elephant) He was riding with
Rondo and Banger’s group. You roped with him several times and
said he was a fine roper. He had violet eyes.”
“Yes, Sir, I
remember him. I’d forgotten all about him. You’re right he
did have violet eyes, damn near the same color as Casey’s, and he
weren’t jes’ a good roper, he was a damn fine roper. He could
keep up with both of us as I recall.”
“‘At’s right, I
roped with him, too, several times. I’d forgotten about that. He
was damn good. Is he the biker you were talking about,
Waddie?” Dan asked.
“Yes, Sir, he
has to be the same man; went by the name of Job. I remember him
being here. Zane and I roped with him. He was damn
good. Sounds more and more like he might ‘a been your grandpa,
Son.”
My heart sort of
fluttered, and I suddenly felt light headed. All the blood
drained from my head, and my scalp seemed to crawl away in different
directions.
“You all right,
boy,— yore’ white as a sheet?” Big Jim asked from across the
table.
“Yes, Sir,— I
think so. I jes’ didn’t give it much thought the other night when
Master Waddie told me he rode with a man years ago what had violet
eyes. It does sound like it might ‘a been him.”
“I wouldn’t
worry none if I was you, boy, nobody’s seen him in about ten, maybe
fifteen years.” added Mr. Yates.
Big Jim, Mr.
Titus and several other bikers remembered him, and they all agreed it
was at least that long ago since they last saw him. It made me
wonder. If it was my granddad, and he was riding with a group of
men, who were by any definition outlaw bikers, he couldn’t have been so
naive he didn’t know what was going on with them. They were men,
who, by the bylaws of their family group, owned other men and engaged
in male sex; he must have known and accepted it, or at the very least,
come to a new understanding. I knew in my heart these men
wouldn’t suffer a tight ass bigot for a second.
* * * * * * *
I asked Mr.
Yates if I could pay him something for food, board for Rocky and space
for the double ‘R.’
“No, Son, we’s
jes’ glad to have you. We enjoyed watching you men rope. Just be
sure you drop by and stay a while on yore’ way back. There’s
always a place for you at our table.”
That really
touched me, and I wiped away a tear.
“Thank you, Sir,
I’ve really enjoyed myself. I greatly appreciate you and Cowboy’s
hospitality.”
“Well,— you’re
welcome, Son; however, it might be nice if you left something for Mrs.
Russell in her tip jar on the back porch.”
“I will,
Sir. The food was excellent.”
I left Mrs.
Russell a twenty dollar bill in her tip jar, and we were on our
way. It’s a long haul from Tucson to El Paso. Even though
we left early in the morning I didn’t know if we could make it beyond
there. You have to drive across the state of New Mexico. It
was about a six to eight hour drive if you drove straight through, but
I had to think about Rocky. I’d pull off at a roadside park every
two hundred miles or so to get him out of the trailer. Master Waddie
and I would walk him a little. Taking time for Rocky, pulling
extra weight, and the slower pace of the double ‘R,’ we didn’t pull
into El Paso until five thirty that evening.
It was great
having someone ride with me, especially Master Waddie. You get to
know a person pretty well when you’re traveling with them. We had
damn near twelve hours to get to know each other. He was good to
give me a break driving. I’d drive a couple of hours, we’d walk
Rocky, then change drivers. I told Master Waddie about my dad,
and the letter his younger brother wrote him while he was in Nam.
Master Waddie just shook his head in disbelief when I told him about my
Uncle Seth Quee roping and tying up my granddad to make love to him the
night before he left.
I told him my
original family name, and he was even more amazed. I told him
about my brothers and what we had to go though with the Colonel.
He asked me who was staying with my dad while I was gone, and I told
him my little brother. He told me about his life, and it was real
hard for me to believe some of the things he went through. His
life had gone from the highest pinnacle to the lowest possible
depths. I knew I loved Master Waddie, but it didn’t bother me
knowing we would soon part. He probably would go on to love
someone else, hopefully Mr. Titus; however, during that ride to his
hometown, I gained something almost as valuable as a lover or a mate,—
he became my friend. Master Waddie
knew of a motel on the other side of El Paso where he said his
buddies would be staying, and they had several RV spaces you could
rent. He was right, all his buddies were at the motel. We
stayed there for the night, and there was plenty room to walk
Rocky. Master Waddie stayed with me, and fucked me three time
that night. He was as welcome to the fucks. I was grateful
to him for throwing them into me. He relaxed me so much I’d fall
into a deep, dreamless sleep afterward, to say nothing of the song in
my heart and the smile on my face the next morning.
It wasn’t nearly
as far from El Paso to the small town Master Waddie was from. It
only took us about six hours to get there. Before we got there he
ask me not to call him Master Waddie except when we were alone. I
ask him if Mr. Claymore would be all right. He smiled and
nodded. He explained, while his boy Gip knew everything about
him, his wife, two sons and two daughters didn’t. His boy rode
with him and his family for a while before he decided to settle down,
get married and have a family.
He was a deputy
sheriff for several years until the people of the county got pissed-off
at their sheriff. Gip Claymore never ran for office. People
all over the county were calling him to find out if he would
become their new sheriff if they elected him as a write in
candidate. Gip didn’t have anything to lose and agreed. He
was elected by a massive write in vote. It was a landslide.
He took ninety percent of the votes in the county.
The old sheriff
claimed the election was illegal, and he wasn’t going to acknowledge
the results. He claimed it didn’t matter he only received ten
percent of the vote, the ninety percent write in votes for Gip Claymore
were illegal, unacceptable, null and void. The city council went
to him and told him he would vacate the position or face arrest and
prosecution. They told him the write in votes certainly were
legal and he lost. He quietly stepped down, and Gip was sworn in
as their new sheriff.
All Gip’s
kids were grown. His oldest boy was twenty-two and the younger
was twenty. He had a daughter who was home from college for the
summer who was my age. His other daughter was the youngest, she
was nineteen. He had been married to the same woman, Cindy, for
almost thirty years. They were very happy together; however, Gip
was raised by his granddad and the influence of his dad, whom he
thought was his older brother until he was almost grown.
Gip figured some
things out for himself, and confronted Waddie with what he
discovered. Waddie wouldn’t lie to his son and told him the
truth. They both agreed not to let Waddie’s dad Buck Claymore
know Gip knew he was his granddad. Needless to say, with the
influence of those two men in his life, he was as much a rounder as his
granddad. He enjoyed getting his dick sucked by a man and fucking
a good tight, cowboy ass every now and then. He was also like his
granddad in one other respect. He never cheated on his wife with
another woman. Master Waddie warned me about his boy.
“You’ll fall in
love with him right away. He’s more like my old man than I ever
was, and they used to call me ‘Buck junior.’ No one who ever met
my dad didn’t fall in love with him almost immediately. Gip’s the
same damn way. He’ll have you wrapped around his little finger so
fast you won’t know what happened.’” he laughed.
Master Waddie’s
brother bikers were already there. They arrived about a couple of
hours ahead of us, and were relaxing under the shade of some large
trees. It was a beautiful ranch. It was clean, modern and
neat as a pin. It was obvious Gip and his boys were serious
ranchers. They must bust their butts to keep a place this nice
looking year in and year out. Master Waddie told me it was his
dad’s place before it was Gip’s. Buck Claymore left the ranch to
Waddie, but he didn’t want it. Gip asked his dad if he could run
the ranch and live there with his budding family. Waddie just
gave the ranch to his kid. Later, I found out Master Waddie owned
a couple of other ranches not far from Gip’s ranch two of his other
dads left him.
We pulled up, I
grabbed my hat from behind the seat and Master Waddie grabbed
his. Out of the barn came a big man almost as big as Master
Waddie lumbering across the way. He looked like a younger,
slightly smaller version of Master Waddie. He had the neatest
little gut on him that was only slightly noticeable. It made him
look like a hard working man who enjoyed his food. He had the
biggest grin on his face as he saw us standing next to the double
‘R.’ He went to Master Waddie first.
“Dad! Damn
it’s good to see you. It’s been too long, damn it!” He
hugged and kissed Master Waddie right on the mouth. Master Waddie
didn’t hold back.
Gip took one
look at me and looked at Master Waddie.
“How, the hell
do you do it, old man? How do you get the pick of the litter
ever’ damn time!” He and Master Waddie roared with laughter.
“Gip, this here
young man is Mr. Casey Longhorn, my rope’n partner for the Tucson rodeo
where we won the big prize money. Casey this is my son, Sheriff
Gip Claymore.”
Gip was pumping
my hand and the next thing I knew I was being held in his arms, and
being kissed right on the mouth just like he kissed his dad. I
didn’t hold back either. He finished, and put me at arms length
to get a good look at me. Then he grabbed me again, and held me
close to him.
“Is my old man
do’n right by you, Son? Is he keep’n that little cowboy butt of
yours filled ever’ night like a good saddle buddy should?”
“To the brim,
Sheriff Claymore, for two hours at a throw. He shore’ ‘nuff can
scratch my deepest itch, Sir. Fucks me good, too!”
Gip threw back
his handsome head and laughed. Master Waddie was right
again. The sheriff had me right in the palm of his hand. My
dick was already hard. He took one look at my crotch and grinned
real big.
“Is that for me,
cowboy?”
“Afeared so,
Sheriff. I apologize for not being able to control it. Sometimes
it’s got a mind of its own, Sir.” he laughed again.
“So do mine,
boy,— so do mine, and right now it’s yelling at me to rope and hog tie
my old man, steal you away, and git my ole dick into your sweet little
butt as quick as I can.”
“Can I help,
Sheriff, I can toss a rope pert-damn good?”
He fell out
laughing. Master Waddie was laughing at us.
“Damn, Son, you
be a fine look’n cowboy!” Gip looked at his dad and spoke,
“I don’t know how you do it, you old geezer. Where’d the hell ju’
find this ‘un?”
“He’s my
neighbor in California. We live ten miles apart, within spit’n
distance of each other. I’ve roped against him and his dad for
several years. They ain’t beat me’n Bob yet, but it won’t be
long. I met him in a gas station on the way to Dan Yates and
Cowboy’s and showed him the way out there. We ain’t spent a night
apart since.”
About that time
Gip’s two boys came up from the barn, and Gip’s wife, Cindy. She
was followed by Gip’s two daughters who came out of the house to meet
me. He introduced me all around. His wife was a small woman, but
all of Gip’s kids were huge. The older boy was going to be bigger
than his daddy, and he was hot. He was one of the finest looking
cowboys I’d seen in a while. When we shook hands something passed
between us, and we both knew about the other. He winked at me,
and I blushed. They called the older son little Gip, but he was
far from little.
Little Gip’s
younger brother was named Waddie Buck. He was obviously named
after his great-granddad and his granddad. The younger sister was
named Linda Sue and the older sister was named Ruby Rose.
Master Waddie’s
family came over to greet us. Gip instructed me to get my pony
out of the trailer and follow him to the barn. I let the ramp
down for Rocky, and he immediately backed out. He turned and I
petted him. Gip was a horseman and ran his hand down Rocky’s
side. Rocky didn’t shy away. He sensed Gip knew what he was
doing. Gip pointed the way to the barn, and we turned and started
walking.
“Don’t you put a
bridle on him?”
“Naw, Sir, I
never do unless we’re working. He’ll do anything I tell
him.” Gip’s kids were making over Rocky, and I just whistled to
him. He came immediately and followed Gip and I to the
barn. Gip was amazed. Gip found some oats for him and make
sure his automatic drinking cup was filled and working. Rocky
seemed happy enough, and we returned to join the others; however, not
before Gip grabbed and kissed me in the barn. This time his hand
roamed down to my ass and had himself a good feel.
“Woah,
dogies!! That’s a pretty little ass, cowboy. I’d shore’
nuff like to get me a piece a’ that while yore’ here,— if’n you’s a
mind to, of course.”
“I don’t think
you have to worry about me having a mind to, Sheriff; however, you
haf’ta’ ask my Master.”
“My old man got
chu’ talked into give’n yourself to him already?”
“Yes, Sir,— but
we know we have to separate after the rodeo here. I have a great
respect for your dad. Out of love and respect for him and his way
of live’n, I just wanna’ be his slave for the time we’re
together. I asked to be his slave. I wanted to see how I’d
feel.”
“And, how do you
feel about it, Son?”
“Pert-damn good,
Sheriff. I told him if we didn’t have other obligations, and he
was the Master, I’d jump at the chance to be his slave.”
“Yeah, my old
man’s that way; however, once he decides on someone to be his
slave, he don’t never look at another man. If’n yore’ his slave,
he might loan you out once in a while to a buddy, but he’ll be there to
watch. He might decided to let some man suck his dick what’s got
the honggries fer ‘em, but he’ll have you right there watch’n.
He’d never do nothing behind yore’ back. So,— I have to ask my
old man if’n I can fuck ya,’ huh?” he smiled then laughed.
“Yes, Sir.”
Gip put his arm
around me a we started walking back to the rest of the group.
“If’n I’m a’
gonna’ be split’n that little ass of you’n, you don’t have to call me
‘Sheriff Claymore,’ Son,— ‘Gip’ will do jes’ fine.”
“Would you mind
if’n I called you ‘Sheriff’ or ‘Sheriff Claymore,’ Sir?”
He smiled and
grinned at me. He knew it was a hard-on for me to think on him as
a lawman.
“Sure, Son,— I
understand. It might be nice coming from you and know’n
why. Does another man own you, Son?”
“Master Waddie
tells me so, but I don’t know, Sheriff. I ain’t made up my mind
about that.”
“Is it yore’
daddy, cowboy?”
“Yes,
Sir.” I looked at him a little amazed.
“Does he give
you love? Does he see to all your needs? Does he scratch
yore’ itch for ya’? Is he firm, but giving to you? Has he
ever loaned ju’ out to one of his friends or relatives?”
“Yes, Sir.
He’s all of those things, and ‘yes’ he’s loaned me out to my bothers
and our cousin.”
“Then he owns
you, Son. You’re his property,— or you would be in the eyes of my
dad’s family. You might not attach the same names to your roles,
but basically, they’re the same. It’s the difference between
tweedle-dum and tweedle-dee.” he laughed.
“That’s the same
thing Master Waddie and some of his family have been telling me.”
“Well,— my old
man’s got some miles on ‘em, he’s been to hell and back, he’s pretty
wise about a lot of things, but he’d never insist you believe ever’
damn thing he tells you. If’n I know him, and I do, he’s gonna’
let chu’ make up yore’ own mind. He’s just gonna’ help you
understand some things.”
“That’s what
he’s doing, Sheriff, and I love him for it.”
We walked back
to the group. Master Waddie, and a couple of his family helped
him get his bike out of my trailer. Everyone was standing around
talking, and I pulled Master Waddie aside.
“Mr. Claymore,
I’m still git’n use to these damn contacts, and they’re beginning to
feel uncomfortable. You think it might be all right if’n I
removed ‘em for a while, Sir?”
“Don’t see why
not, Son. I doubt seriously yore’ grandpa’s gonna’ come riding up
to the sheriff’s home. He might come for the Fourth of July
barbecue Gip gives ever’ year after the rodeo, I don’t know.
We’ll have to ask Gip,— he’d know.”
I thanked him
and went into the double ‘R’ and took out my contact lenses.
After I washed my eyes and face and put some drops in my eyes, I
returned to the group. Gip turned around to look at me and jumped
like he’d been shot.
“Hoe-lee
shit!” he exclaimed. “Would ju’ look at that boy’s
eyes. Only ever saw me two other men with eyes like that.
Why were you wear’n colored contacts, Son, and hide’n them pretty
violet eyes. They’s almost unbelievable.”
“It’s a long
story. We’ll tell you about it a little later, Sir.” I
responded.
“There’s a good
man, I know him well, he’s stayed at the ranch here with us a couple of
times when he’s been in town. He’s the ramrod for a rodeo wild
stock company, but his eyes are a lot lighter color than yours.”
“Would that be
Rance Harding, Sir?”
“Damn, you know
him, boy? No, wait! With rare eyes like that, I done
learn’t me enough genetics and breeding at ag school to know traits
like that runs in families. He’s yore’ kin, ain’t he, Son?”
“Yes,
Sir. He’s first cousin to my dad and me.”
“Well, I’ll be
damned. He ain’t the only one around with ‘em. Old man
Langtry whose top waddie, or head foreman, for the biggest ranch in our
county has ‘em. He always comes to our rodeo to rope with a
couple of his ranch hands. He’s got them eyes the same color as
yours, Son. Is he kin to ya’?”
I felt Master
Waddie’s arm go around me. He turned me and started walking away
from the group to be alone. He spoke to Gip.
“Come over here,
Son, where we can talk in private.” then he spoke to me. “It’s
all right, Son,— go ahead and tell him. He ain’t gonna’ tell
nobody. My boy knows when to keep his mouth shut.”
“He be my
granddad, Sheriff.”
“I don’t
understand,— dad told me your name was Longhorn,— oh, I see,— yore’
daddy done went and changed yore’ last name.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“But, wait a
minute,— I’m sure old man Langtry done told me both his boys was killed
in Vietnam.”
“My dad lost
both his legs, but he’s very much alive. He gits around on his
store bought legs jes’ fine,— good enough to rope and ride. What
ranch is my granddad the foreman of, Sheriff Claymore?”
“The Lazy 8, one
of the biggest work’n ranches in the Southwest. Covers a goodly
portion of our county. J’ever hear’d of it?”
“Yes,
Sir.” I answered without giving away how much I knew about the
Lazy 8 or that I was part owner.
All sorts of
thoughts ran through my head. ‘Why ain’t Sticker never said
nothing to me about his ranch foreman having violet eyes like
mine? Well, you know Sticker, he’s a cowboy. He don’t tell
more’n he has to about his business and private life. He don’t
talk about other people none, neither. He don’t gossip and he
don’t make up stories. How much do you really know about
Sticker? Not much.’
“Old man Langtry
comes to the rodeo ever’ year and ropes with one or two of his ranch
hands. They usually be the best ropers of the waddies work’n for
him. He’s got one middle aged man who’s darn good. His
name’s Thurston Sewell. They won the two years before the last
rodeo here. Me’n dad won last year; beat the pants off of
‘em.” Gip lowered his voice, “To tell you the truth,— I
could be dead wrong,— but I suspect there’s something going on between
old man Langtry and his partner. They’s real smooth with their
rope’n. They ain’t the fastest in the world, but what they lack
in speed they make up for in accuracy. Most all the other teams
mess up. They didn’t have great times at either rodeo, but they
made their toss.
Bout this time
ever’ year he loses a number of hands. I don’t know why, the Lazy
8 pays the best of any ranch in the country and they don’t seem to have
no problem replacing the ones they lose. Maybe they jes’ get
tired of working for him. I can’t say. I understand he’s
fair but a no nonsense top waddie. I’ve hear’d tell you don’t
never wanna’ try’n bullshit ‘em none. He expects a good day’s
work for good day’s pay. He comes to the rodeo to look for new
hands. He’s hired any number of cowboys who are jes’ local kids
coming in for the rodeos. I think they have some romantic notion
of living the life of a cowboy, but after they work at it for about a
year, day in and day out, it ain’t so romantic no more.
I don’t know why
I call him old man Langtry. Hell he ain’t as old as dad, and I
don’t think of dad as being old. I think Lantry’s in his early
fifties. He probably ain’t but a year or two older’n me.
So, lemme’ guess, young man,— you be wear’n them contact lens to change
the color of your eyes so’s he won’t be put’n two and two
together? I got a feel’n he don’t know about you. I’ll bet
chu’ don’t even need contact lenses to see good.”
“You’re right,
Sir. You’re real good, Sheriff. I ain’t never met him, and
my dad goes ballistic ever’ time I mention anything about my
granddad. I jes’ wanna’ meet him and be around him for a while to
see for myself what he’s like. I ain’t never had me no granddad,
Sir. I feel kinda cheated when I know I have one, but I ain’t
never been able to meet him. My mom’s dad died shortly after I
was born, and my grandma on her side died when I was three. If he
thinks my dad’s dead, I doubt he knows anything about having a grandson.
“That’s kinda
heavy, Son, but I think I can understand how you feel. I don’t
know if dad shared with you how I came into this world, but they’s only
twelve years difference between me’n dad’s age. I grow’d up
think’n he and Gip Justin were my brothers, and my granddad was my
daddy. I think granddad was gonna’ tell me shortly before he
died, but I stopped him. I told him I already knew what he was
gonna’ tell me, I guessed it a long time ago, but h’it didn’t make me
no never mind,— he was my daddy as far as I was concerned. He
was, but I guess I’m luckier than most, I had me two daddies.
The point in all
this is, I never knew my real mom. Dad’s told me about her and so
did my granddad when I asked him. They told me she was a
beautiful, wonderful woman who just let the wrong man have his way with
her. He wanted kids and couldn’t have none, so he took a fresh
condom dad used fuck’n his brother with in the man’s barn one
day. Dad threw it in the trash. After dad and his brother
took off, the man got it out, untied it, pulled it on like he was
gonna’ use a rubber to fuck his wife. He cut the end out of it,
and when he shot his unfertile semen, it pushed dad’s active sperm into
her. She got pregnant with me from dad’s sperm. She died
give’n birth to me. Even today,— I always wonder what she was
like.”
This man
standing before me was an intelligent, sensitive man whom I found
myself falling in love with, but it was different from my love for his
dad. I wondered if that was what Master Waddie meant about loving
more than one person at a time,— they’re just different loves.
Gip continued.
“Ole Bubba
Swansey, he done went and leased old man Langtry’s ranch, then later
bought it from him when he sold ever’ thing. Langtry bought
his-self a Harley and went out there like dad and me to git away from
ever’ thing. Bubba told him about the Claymore boys, one coming
back from Nam, the other try’n to escape the draft, buying bikes and
hitting the road. They say that’s what give him the idea. I
don’t know. We ran into him a couple a times out there on the
road. He sometimes rode with our family group, dad’s and mine,
but he went by the name of Job then. I don’t think dad ever’ knew
his real name. I never did until he introduced himself to me one
day several years after I decided to stop riding with the family.
He reminded me where I met him and the name he went by.
I asked Bubba a
couple ‘a years ago what happened. He told me the old man threw
his oldest boy out of his house,— that must a’ been your dad,— he threw
him out when he was only sixteen for gittin’ a young girl pregnant.
Then he caught his boy and Bubba suck’n each other off in his
barn.” Gip was giggling so bad he could hardly tell the
story, “Bubba laughed and told me he’d been hide’n the little
green snake with the Langtry boys, the Harding boy, and another
neighbor boy since grade school.
They’s jes’ kids
play’n around with each other;— cept’n old Bubba,— he never quite grew
out of it.” Gip giggled again and started his dad laughing,
“That dirty old cowboy, he still wants to play hide the little green
snake with me ever’ damn time he comes to town for the rodeo.”
Gip looked at his dad and winked, “Less’n we’uns take you to the
rodeo under heavily armed guards, and old Bubba gits his-self a gander
at chu,’ he’s gonna’ figured some’um out, some way to git that big dick
a’ his up yore’ young cowboy butt. You won’t stand a snowball’s
chance in hell, boy. Why, old Bubba’ll eat chore’ pretty little
ass for breakfast.”
Master Waddie
and Gip broke up laughing. The way Gip told it, I thought it was
pretty damn funny, too.
Anyways,— Bubba
done told me Lantry was a hell on wheels evangelical deacon of the
Baptist church down where he come from. I guess his youngest boy
done some’um terrible to his dad. Bubba done told me he roped and
tied his dad up, made love to him, made him come several times, but he
didn’t let his old man throw him out. He had Bubba come git ‘em,
and he walked out on him vowing never to return. He done like his
brother, lied about his age, and joined the service to go to Vietnam to
be with his brother. He stayed with Bubba until he went to boot
camp. He got his-self killed the first couple of months he was
over there.
Bubba said it
really did a number on the old man. He damn near went nuts with
grief the way he’d handled ever’ thing and how he treated his boys
because of his rigid beliefs. He never had a chance to set it
right with them. He went into deep depression and wouldn’t do nothing
around the ranch. He wouldn’t go to church no more.
Before,— he was there ever’ damn time the doors were opened. His
church family tried to help him, but he ended up kick’n them and
preacher out of his house one day, saying all manner of blasphemous
things to them. They never went back.
Finally, he sold
ever’ thing he owned and went out to search for his forgiveness.
Bubba says Langtry thinks maybe he’s got a grand-kid out there summers,
but he don’t know if’n it’s a girl or h’it’s a boy. According to
Bubba, ever’ body hated him. Even his sisters and brother
wouldn’t have nothing to do with him because of his pious
beliefs. He’d visit ‘em, then start calling ‘em sinners and
preach’n to ‘em try’n to save ‘em. It’s real rude for somebody to
do that sort of thing because they think they’s more saved than
you. Bubba told me ever’ one in the whole damn town knew about
his boy git’n married, but not a one would tell him a thing. That
was one ‘a the reasons he bought a bike, was to travel’n see if he
could find his grandchild. He never found nothing. Not a
clue.
About ten years
ago he applied for a job as a regular cowboy, a waddie, on the Lazy
8. The owner put it under new management and the new manager was
a cowboy his-self. He gave Langtry a chance. Langtry parked
his Harley in the barn, threw a waterproof tarp over it, and h’it ain’t
never been out since. The manager weren’t real pleased with the
previous foreman and called Langtry aside to ask him if he thought he
could handle the job. The rest is history. Bubba might be
able to tell you more, Son,— I don’t know, but he keeps in touch with
Langtry. Bubba always works the Lazy 8 during spring and fall
roundup time. He makes extra money and plays cowboy with his
boys. Bubba always sees him and talks with him at the
rodeo. Bubba and his boys always come to our Fourth of July party
and once in a while Mr. Lagtry comes with his rope’n partners.
They’s always welcome.”
I thanked Gip
for the information. I didn’t have to ask, I just knew he would
keep it under his hat.
“What ya’ think
you’ll do, Son?” Gip asked in a concerned voice.
“I don’t know,
Sheriff. I’m gonna’ take things one step at a time. I’m
shocked, but,— at the same time, I’m thrilled. I guess I’m also a
little bit afraid. I’m gonna’ sleep on what chu’ done told
me. The Fourth is Friday. I have four days to think about
it and talk it over with my Master. I know he’ll help me. I
know he has to go his own way after the rodeo, but he done told me the
other night he thought God brought us together for a reason. So
did big Griz at the Broken Arrow. Master Waddie tells me I’ve
helped him and now he’s helping me. We have four days to practice
our roping, and that’ll take my mind off of it. I’d like to talk
with you some more about it when you have time, Sir.”
“Sure, Son,
anyway I can help. I know this can’t be easy for you. I
know you’re in good hands with my old man. They don’t make’um no
better’n my dad, Son. I think what chu’ need is another long
session with that big cowboy in yore’ saddle. Let him git chu’
good’n relaxed, with his big dick way up inside ju’ and jes’ talk it
over with him. Hell,— wish’t I could be a fly on the wall.”
“Maybe you can,
Sheriff.”
End of Chapter 27 ~
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