3TB_12

THE TIES THAT BIND
By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 12 ~ Dead Man Walking

Part I ~ The Lonely Coyote

“What is there so lonely,
as the wolf’s cry at midnight?
His master’s smell on the sheets,
his slave lies engulfed, naked, and alone.”
From: Canto 12 ~ Slave Songs ~ W. D. Dux ~ Posthumous

I opened my eyes to see two beautiful giant steel-gray eyes looking into mine. “Good Morning,” Big Jim said softly.

“What a nice way to wake up, looking into the loving eyes of my good master,” I said.

“They are, indeed, loving eyes, and they’re looking at you wondering how I was ever blessed to meet you, let alone share love with you,” Big Jim said.

“Woah! Steady there, Big Fellow. I ain’t no saint. I got the same itch in my gut for you,” I said quietly.

“You had a connection with Blaine years before I did. I heard all the ‘Twilight Zone’ stories about you meeting Earl, and Wes being your lover in Nam. I can't help wonder how I fit into all this,” Jim said like he was overwhelmed.

“Maybe it’s not complicated, Master Ox. Maybe it’s simple. You decided to give love another chance, or maybe it decided to give you another chance,” I said.

“Perhaps you’re right. I’m not going to be maudlin about it. I’m going to enjoy what love we can share and not let 'if only' thoughts ruin it. Our time together may be brief, but I plan to make the most of it. So, kiss me, Slave, and be quick about it. Your master awaits your love,” he said as he leaned over me and kissed me tenderly.

“Damn, Master, that be a welcome surprise. Good morning to you, too. Did Babe put you up to this? Does he want Little Beaver to take him out for a ride this morning?” I asked.

Jim laughed. “He had input, as it were, but the kiss was from my heart,” he said.

“I love you, Jim,” I said quietly.

“I love you, too, Beau. Let’s get up. I can smell coffee,” Master Jim said pulling his leathers out of the closet. He set his big boots out. I remembered an old cleaning rag in the bathroom. I grabbed his boots and set on the floor with my back against the bed to clean them. I put one between my legs and wedged it tight against my cock and balls then locked my legs in front of it to squeezed it harder against them. The top of the huge shaft of the leg stopped right under my nose. I cleaned one real good while inhaling the other, then switched. Master Jim watched me with a certain amount of pride and approval of my self-initiated actions. He looked at me like a proud papa, pleased and amused, to see his son imitating his actions to be like his old man.

He told me it turned him on to see his slave boy sniff his boots. He wasn’t lying. I had the final laugh. He couldn’t get Babe stuffed into his cod piece. It kept poking out the top, winking at me. I helped him on with his boots, holding each squarely in my crotch. He would feign difficulty getting them on, pressing hard on my cock and balls to the point of real pain then his big foot would magically slip into place. I loved the big man for indulging me my games. His final piece of leather to put on was his leather vest. He decided to wear it without a shirt. Fuck, he looked hot with his massive hairy chest and his huge, dark brown nipples. The sight of his nipples made my dick drip just to think about sucking on them.

“Do you want me to put something on, Master?” I asked.

“My slave don’t wear clothes in private,” he replied and smiled wickedly. “Did that answer you’re question, Slave?” he asked.

“Yes, Master, thank you, sir,” I replied.

He put his arms around me and put his forehead against mine. “I like to see my slave this way. I’m proud of you on my arm, and I like to show you off. There’s an old man out there who would have a heart attack if you walked out with clothes on, and I for one, don’t wanna' have to call the paramedics and explain,” Jim joked with me, “Furthermore, his slave won’t have clothes on, and I know that old man ain’t got enough of playing with you. Don’t worry, Blaine don’t have a jealous bone in his body. If he thinks Beryl wants someone he’ll hog tie ‘em and tell ‘em to relax, his master will get around to fucking them in a few minutes.

“You think I’m joking? I’m not. I’ve seen him do it. Sometimes to a straight biker who Beryl might have mentioned had a nice ass. Blaine will disappear and after a while come back and tell his master, ‘When would you like to fuck so-in-so, Dad, I got him waiting for you?’ Beryl would smile, scratch his chin and tell him, ‘Oh, after I have another beer, Son.’ Blaine would have the guy spread eagle on his stomach, hands and feet staked and roped, his mouth gagged, his ass cleaned, well greased like a Christmas turkey waiting to be stuffed.

Beryl would thank Blaine, kiss him, let Blaine get his cock good and hard, go into the tent and fuck the guy. Believe it or not they had a seventy-five percent return rate, even from the straight guys. Beryl wasn’t out to hurt anyone and would take it slow until he got ‘em opened up. The straight guys would get drunk and secretly approach Blaine to see if they could get him to tie them down again for Beryl to use. Several of the so called straight guys regularly paid Blaine good money to take a ride on Big Beryl’s horse. Blaine made a lot of money on the side, but he never told his old man about it.

He learned selling a person could be a two way street. He swore me to secrecy when I caught on to what he was doing. I wouldn’t a’ told anyway. I thought it was fucking hilarious. I know you and Beryl have some secret agreement between you which I think is wonderful. I’m proud of you for bonding with him so quickly. Beryl don’t let a lot of people get close as he did you in such a short period of time, so don’t be shy if he wants to use you. You’re ordered to pleasure him anyway he wants. I’d share you with either of them. If the ‘new penny’ thing has to do with you getting fucked, you just tell him, I get to watch. He won’t have no problem with it. I don’t need any reasons for you not to wear anything, but the main reason is to remind you, I’m your master, I care about you, and I want to show you off.”

He kissed me on the forehead, went to the closet, got something out of his big heavy biker jacket and came back. He brought his leash and hooked it onto my collar. I fell to my knees and kissed his boots. I found his waiting hand, kissed it, then put it to my forehead, “Get up here, I’m gonna’ show you some love, Slave,” he said. I threw my arms around him.

“I’m proud to call you master, Jim,” I said. We kissed a long and well thought out kiss.

He grabbed my leash, “Come, Pup, follow your master. Do I need to take you outside to lift your leg?” he asked with a grin.

He thought his joke was funny, so did I. I followed Master Jim past the living room to the small kitchen. Blaine was busy starting breakfast while Big Beryl sat on a bar stool at the counter. Blaine wasn’t wearing clothes either. Beryl grinned real big when he saw me naked and put his hand out for Master Jim to give him my leash. Master Jim handed him the leash and smiled. I knelt in front of Beryl, kissed each of his boots, and he held his hand down for me. I lovingly kissed the back and put it to my forehead. “Get your pretty ass up here, Slave, and give this old master some lovin’!" Beryl pulled me to him with the leash, grabbed it up close to my neck to control my head, held it tight, leaned forward and kissed me. I threw my arms around his neck and pulled myself to him to kiss him back. “Good morning me pretty,” he said making it sound like an old sea pirate.

“‘Morning, Cap’n,” I said in character.

He hugged me and laughed. Blaine set coffee on the counter for Master Jim and me. Everyone exchanged ‘good morning’ greetings. Beryl open his legs and pulled my backside into him, put both arms around me, his big legs around my legs, and locked his boots in front of me. His right hand went to my crotch to hold my cock and balls cradled in his big paw. He didn’t fondle me or squeeze them, he just held them like he was protecting them, keeping them warm; like they were precious to him. I leaned back against him for comfort and support. He was like leaning against the great wall of China.

“So you want to learn to Harley ride your master's cock, huh, Slave?” he asked with amusement in his voice.

“I’d sure like to try, Master Beryl,” I said.

“Just call me Beryl or Dad, Son,” he said correcting me again.

“Yes, sir, Dad,” I replied.

“That’s better. Do you guys have to be back this evening?” he asked.

“Yeah, Beau has to go to work tomorrow, and I got some business in L.A. tomorrow morning. We only rode out for the evening,” Master Jim replied.

“Too bad, some of the guys we used to ride with may drop by this afternoon. I hoped you could be here to see them. Breed said he might stop by. You remember Breed, Jim, about Blaine’s height, good looking, built like a fireplug,” Master Beryl said to jog Big Jim’s memory.

“Yeah, I remember Breed. Ornery little cuss. He would pick a fight with the meanest son of a bitch in camp just to prove himself a man. How many times did you and I have to keep some dude from killing him? ‘Straight arrow’ until he had a few, then he wanted to swap spit and play with your dick ‘til dawn. He wanted to go with men in the worse way, but just never could let himself cross the barrier. I damn near got my dick in him one night, remember?” Big Jim asked.

“Yeah, that’s Breed. He’s mellowed a lot though; owns a ranch not far from here and works as a mechanic for some shop in Yucca Valley. He jumped the fence in a big way. Took a smart, college educated, good looking oriental kid as a slave. Mistreated the kid something terrible and the kid ran away. Breed looked for the kid for a year or more but never found hide nor hair of him,” Big Beryl said shaking his head.

“Yeah, where dad hid him, he’ll never find him,” Blaine blurted out then threw back his handsome head and laughed.

“Blaine!” Beryl exclaimed sternly, then smiled a guilty smile. “Well, Hell, Jim, you should a' seen what he done to the kid. Not just once but numerous times. Finally, to keep Blaine from going over there and killing Breed, I had to do something. The kid loved him unconditionally, but he was justifiably scared to death of him. The kid never blamed Breed for his violence. He felt Breed was misunderstood. When I was sure the kid wanted out and wouldn’t run back to him, for his own personal safety we helped him. I sent him to Jeb. You were away on a tour. I don’t think you ever met him. His name was Skip. Fine looking oriental boy. I think Jeb changed his name when he sold him. He’s Japanese and Jeb used his Jap name when he sold him.”

“Yoshie?” I asked nonchalantly.

“Yeah, that’s it,” Big Beryl said with surprise, “How’d ju’ know, Beau?” he asked.

“He’s my boss’ slave. He’s putting Yoshie through medical school at U.S.C. Jesus, maybe I shouldn’t a’ said nothing,” I said.

“No one will hear it from dad or me, especially Breed. We don't tell him nothing,” Blaine said, “I ain't fond of the son of a bitch, but dad makes me treat him like a master when he comes around. Dad even loans me out to him once in a while to fuck me. He pays dad damn good money to use me, so I do my best to please him. He’s gotten better at sex with a man than he used to be. He loves to fuck my cunt. When you’re a slave you do what your master orders you to. The last time I didn’t, I didn’t get fucked for a whole Goddamn month, and he wouldn’t loan me out to get fucked by nobody else either. I damn near went crazy.

"Talk about humping door knobs. Sheeit! I hate to admit it but my old man knows how to bring a slave to his knees without violence. In all these years, Dad has never hit me with his fist. However, If you look closely at my ass and back you’ll notice tell-tale scars from his eighteen foot black snake bull whip, but I damn well deserved every one of ‘em. I wear ‘em with pride, ‘cause the man what owns me cared enough about me to put ‘em there. I ain’t there yet, but one day I hope he can say I’m his loving and obedient slave,” Blaine said.

“Ahh, you ain’t so bad now, you silly twit,” Big Beryl said, “We’d be the last to say anything to Breed about Skip, Son. Breed can be a mean son of a bitch when he wants to be. Then, on the other hand, he can be the most giving person we know. He’s always willing to help with any project we have around here, but we’ve helped him, too,” Big Beryl said. Blaine started breakfast, and I asked Big Beryl if I could help him. He said 'no,' the kitchen was too small.

“Far be it from me to contradict a master, but it doesn’t look too small to me, sir,” I said.

“It ain’t, Beau,” Blaine said with a grin, “The old man just wants to play with you. He thinks you're a little bit of okay. I thought I never would get to sleep last night. ll I heard was, Beau this and Beau that for hours,” Blaine said with disgust and laughed wickedly for his imitation of Beryl. “Besides, my hero, I’ve got everything covered, except my ass,” he said and laughed again. “Besides, he loves a slave on a leash. I spend half my damn life hiding leashes,” Blaine said and winked. We all fell out laughing at Blaine. He was funny.

“You know Blaine,” Beryl said, “I’m damn proud of us. To hear Skip was sold to a good master and is going to become a doctor is wonderful news. Can you beat that?” he asked.

“You should be proud, both of you,” Big Jim allowed, “I probably would've done the same thing and have. Jeb and I kidnapped my nephew Wes out of a brothel in Tijuana,” he said.

“Yeah, we heard about that. What the Hell was he doing in a Mexican brothel?” Beryl asked.

“He never would say. The nearest Jeb and I could put together was his last master was a bat-shit crazy son of a bitch, and sold him to be a butt-fuck boy for any Mexican with twenty pesos in his pocket. They kept him straddled an eight inch wide by four foot long wooden bench completely nude, with his wrists chained up to a ring in the wall. You could sit on the bench and fuck him. Jeb and I got the caretaker drunk, and he passed out. I had a pair of bolt cutters in my coat. We cut him free of his chains, put him in the bed of Jeb’s old truck, covered him with old paint canvas, fishing boots, a beer cooler, fishing gear, folding chairs, like we'd been fishing, drove back across the border, got Wes out of the back, covered him in blankets and drove home. You remember old Hank who used to love to fuck in them whore houses outside Vegas?” Jim asked.

“Yeah,” Beryl replied.

“He liked to go to that brothel and fuck them Mexican whores. He saw this kid chained up, and he looked like a white boy. He thought a piece of boy butt might be a nice change, so he bought an hour with him. He said he was a pretty good fuck, so he bought another couple hours with him. Somehow, Hank found out he was a slave in a family group and an American citizen. He found out his name and when he told Jeb and me we knew immediately who it was. We were down there the next day. Jeb and I kept Wes for over a year to let him recover. I took him to the gym three times a week and Jeb worked on his self-confidence. Jeb trained him to be a slave and sold him to Earl D. I don’t care what anyone says about Earl D. Shaw he made Wes bloom. Wes needed exactly what Earl could give him.

"I have no problem, having this kid I love, become Earl's slave. Of all the masters out there, other than you Beryl, Earl is the only one I would wanna' see be master to Beau. I know he won’t be mistreated. He’ll be made to toe the line, dance to Earl’s tune, but he’ll be loved and appreciated. Earl will be good to him and for him. He'll probably bloom under Earl just like Wes did. I have no doubt they’ll become the envy master/slave couple of our family group. Besides, Earl D. Shaw is one Hell of a good looking man. I saw him the other day, and he’s obviously a man in love. He looks it. He radiates it. I wouldn’t even attempt to stand in the way at this point. I love Beau so much I want to know he’s happy. If it can’t be with me then I’m glad for Beau it’s gonna’ be Earl,” Big Jim said. He almost made me cry.

“He’s a damn good man,” Beryl said, “Will you see him this week, Beau?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

“Tell him ‘Hello’ for us and to give us a call. We’ll be here for a month or more. Last we saw him was at Dan and Cowboy’s in Tucson. We had a great time on round-up this year. Ms. Sophie and Gracie, their two cow-ladies, are so fucking funny to watch herd them cows. Earl D. cut a handsome figure as a buckaroo. Get him on a horse and he looks for all the world like one of them old Republic Western cowboy heroes. Damn, he sits a fine horse,” Beryl said.

Blaine was dishing up food, placing it in front of the two masters first. Beryl slipped me his and whispered, “Protocol be damned! Eat, Son! Yore' master done told me I's the undisputed master of this house, boy, you do as I tell you, Slave,” he ordered and roared with laughter.

“You’re a kind man, Dad,” I said and kissed him on the cheek.

“Eat up, Son, you’s too damn skinny,” he said.

“Damn, Blaine, this is good,” I told him. The master’s agreed. We continued talking during breakfast.

“Could you give your boss a message to give to— Yoshie, is it?’” Beryl asked.

“Could I ask Master Jeb’s permission to relay your message to my boss, Dad Beryl?” I asked.

“Certainly, if Jeb says 'no,' don’t worry about it. H'it t'ain't that important. We’re just thrilled to know everything worked out for him and he’s doing well. If Jeb says it’s okay, tell your boss to tell him we love him and are thrilled to hear he’s doing well; not to feel bad about contacting us. We’d rather he didn’t right now for his sake,” Beryl replied.

“I’ll asked Jeb for you,” Big Jim said.

I helped Blaine clean up after breakfast, and we talked while our masters talked. We caught up on people we knew together in Nam and what we heard happened to them. “Blaine, remember my corpsman buddy, ‘Box’? The short good looking little dude Wes and I use to hang out with?” I asked.

“The one we called ‘Boxer’ ‘cause he wouldn’t wear anything but boxer underwear? Said jockeys limited cock growth, but boxers allowed his jewels to breathe and then would take in a deep breath to illustrate?” Blaine replied and we laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, that’s him. All the time Wes and I were together, I know he knew we were fucking like minks, but he never said a word. We never flaunted it, but everyone knew. Fortunately for Wes and me, we had you and the five other guys I got out of them cages to disparage any talk. Old Boxer was so laid back. He loved his pot. If he knew, he’d never tell nobody. I think his first name was Larry or Lawrence, something like that. Anyway, I was at this big annual gay bike run to Badger Flats over Labor Day weekend about three years ago. It’s jointly sponsored by a gay bike club from L.A. and one from San Francisco. Well, guess who I run into on a bike with so much leather on you’d swear the cow was an endangered species?” I asked.

“Boxer?” Blaine asked.

“Yeah, him and his little slave boy. Boxer was working out and was some kinda hot, let me tell you. Made my old cock drip, and he kept his little slave on a short leash. I swear to you, the kid was a miniature Chuck Connors. Had every master at the run trying to buy time with the poor kid. Wouldn’t have minded about forty-five minutes with him myself. Hell, I would've settled for thirty with the both of ‘em,” I said.

“I would never imagined Boxer...” Blaine trailed off shaking his head in disbelief.

“Yeah, me either, but there he was and a big member of one of the bike clubs out of San Francisco. He didn’t recognize me at first. Hell, I had to do a double take to recognize him. When I walked toward him he recognized me and smiled only the way old Boxer could, snapped his fingers to his slave, the kid fell to his knees, and kissed my boots. First time I ever had that happen to me, and I didn’t know the proper response. The poor kid just sat there ignored as I embraced Box. Finally, I grabbed hold of his leash and Box let go. I yanked him up to my face and looked at him as mean as I could.

“You taking good care of your master, Slave?” I asked him.

“I hope so, sir,” he replied.

“I hope so, too, boy, ‘cause if I ever hear you’re not, I’ll personally kick your ass,” I warned him.

“Yes, sir, I understand, sir. Thank you, sir,” he replied.

“I’m glad you understand, Son. So I can be really sure, show me how you kiss your master when you want to show him how much you appreciate being his slave,” I told him. I thought the kid was gonna’ rape me. A crowd gathered, and Boxer kept giggling he was so proud of his boy. I pulled away from him and told the kid, ‘Well, shit! That’s one ass kicking I’m gonna’ have to cancel.’”

“What did old, laid-back Boxer say?” Blaine asked.

“I thought he was gonna’ come unglued at the hinges he was laughing so hard. He always did have a dry wit and good sense of humor. They made a good looking couple. The envy of all the master and slaves there. Since his master is a ‘top man,’ of course, the kid calls him Master Box-Top,” I said. We laughed together.

“I’m glad to hear about old Box. He's a good man,” Blaine allowed.

We no sooner finished discussing our friend when we heard a bike pull up in front of the house. Blaine could see out the kitchen window. “It’s Breed, Dad," he said.

“Okay, now remember, Blaine...” Beryl warned his slave.

“I know, Dad, I’ll be a good slave, ‘cause I love you,” he said.

“I’ll make it up to you, Son. You know I’m good for it,” Beryl promised.

“Jim, grab Beau’s leash so he’ll think you own him. Beau, you’ll have to treat him as a master, or he’ll get his feelings hurt,” Beryl said.

“He will, Beryl, he’ll do what I tell him. He’s my slave until he’s sold,” Big Jim said. I was proud of my training master. He knew I’d do anything he ordered me to.

Breed came in, hugged, and kissed Big Beryl. He saw Jim and smiled real big as he came to kiss and hug Beryl. Dad Beryl snapped his fingers at Blaine. He knelt in front of Breed and kissed each of his boots. Breed put his hand down, Blaine kissed the back of it and put it to his forehead. “Up, slave, and show this master your love,” Blaine rose and threw his arms around Breed and kissed him.

Breed went to Master Jim next. My master dropped my leash. Breed shook Big Jim’s hand, hugged, and kissed him on the cheek, and turned to look at me. “Breed, this is my slave, Beau,” Big Jim said.

Breed looked me up and down like a thirsty man looking at a tall glass of water, smiled a strange approving smile, and nodded. Master Jim snapped his fingers for me to kneel in front of him. I fell to my knees, kissed each of Breed’s boots, which were pretty damn hot, and found his hand waiting. I kissed the back and put it to my forehead. I was waiting for him to respond, but he was quiet for a moment, then he slowly fell to his knees in front of me, gently placed his hand under my face, raised my chin to look directly into my eyes, and said from the depths of his soul, “Pretty, slave— please kiss me,” he said from the bottom of his heart.

I wasn’t going to hold back from a man who had the balls to bring himself to my level and sincerely ask for something he needed. I threw my arms around his neck and gave him a hot, mouthy kiss. He returned it as he put his arms around me and gently pulled me closer. He pulled away, looked me in the eye again and said quietly, “Thank you. You’re a handsome slave. I think you’re a naturally giving man, and I appreciate your gift. It’s been a long time since I had a slave give so willingly to me. You have a wonderful giving master as well, and I’m certainly glad for both you have each other,” he said. He got up, helped me up and hugged me again. He held me at arms length, looked at my face, turned his head slightly to a tilt, and looked puzzled. “Have we met before, Beau?” he asked.

I looked at him closely. “You look familiar, but I can’t remember meeting you,” I said politely.

He took my leash and handed it to Big Jim. Thank you, Jim, he’s a fine looking slave; one to be proud of. Then he smiled wickedly and joked, “Give ya’ a dollar for ‘em.” Master Jim laughed as Breed continued,“I’m only kidding, Beau, I meant that as a compliment, but I’m kinda backward when it comes to saying the right things to folks. I never had anyone teach me proper while I was growing up, and I hurt a lot of folks because I was too dumb to realize. I sure don’t want that to happen no more. I lost my slave, because I was too Goddamn mean to him. He was so good; he only wanted to serve and love me. I drove him away, and I’m so fucking sorry for it. I did the same damn thing to him I had done to me as a kid. I wouldn’t wish that on anybody, yet I did it to him. I been going to a therapist, been in a group with V.A. for about a year and a half now and someday I’m gonna’ try to get me another slave to love. I wanna’ make damn sure I treat him right and deserve his love. Another couple years of therapy, I might be ready,” Breed said.

“Sounds to me like you’re doing something positive to correct the problem, and maybe, that’s half the battle. You know what they say, the longest journey starts with the first step,” I said quietly. He was listening closely to my voice as well as my words.

“Damn, Jim, he’s not only a good looking som’bitch, he’s a smart one, too,” he complimented me.

“Thank you, Master Breed,” I said.

“Just call me Breed, Beau. You, too, Blaine. I appreciate your respect, but I’m gonna’ try to work to earn that title; however, I ain’t ready to give up having a slave kiss my boots. It’s about the only thing these days that gets my dick hard,” he said and laughed hardy. He kept looking at me and tilting his head one way then the other. He walked closer and spoke to Jim. “May I examine your slave, Jim?” he asked. Master Jim simply handed him my leash. "I really like a slave on a leash. It sort of finishes them off. You see, Beau, that came out wrong. I’m sorry,” he apologized.

I laughed and grabbed him close to me. “I understood what you meant, Breed. My Master gave you my leash, and I’m comfortable with it. You seem like a good hearted man, so examine me, sir, I’d be honored,” I replied.

“Thank you, Slave, would you turn around for me, please?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I said as I turned halfway around and winked at Big Jim. Breed ran his hand down my back like he was checking out a fine horse.

“Spread you legs about three feet and bend at the waist, please,” he said. I did as ordered, and he saw my plug.

“May I feel your plug, Beau?” he asked.

“Certainly, Breed, you don’t need to ask, my master gave you permission. I have no say in the matter,” I replied.

He gently felt it and pressed on it lightly a couple of times. “Damn, that thing is huge. It’s in there tight. Looks hot slave. Now, stand up straight for me, please,” he said. I did as he ordered, “Now please turn back to me,” he said. I did. He looked down and became a bit bolder, “I’m going to examine your cock and balls. I won’t hurt you,” he said. I threw my hips slightly forward to make them more available to him. He very gently took my cock and balls in his rough hands and carefully examined them. He pulled my foreskin all the way back to expose the head of my cock, and rubbed the exposed head with his rough thumb. I winced.

"Sorry, I didn’t realize it would be so sensitive, Slave. I’m cut, so I don’t understand that sort of thing. I just wanted to see if it was sensitive. I found out, but I didn’t mean to hurt you none, I promise,” he said. He looked mortified.

“You didn’t hurt me, Breed, but you found out, it’s sensitive. No harm done,” I said.

“Now— please, gimme' one more kiss, handsome slave,” he said.

I kissed him and didn’t hold back. I liked him. I thought he was a hot little motherfucker. My old dick started getting hard when he finally pulled away. He saw my erect penis and got a twinkle in his eye. “Thanks for the kiss and the compliment, Slave,” he said as he handed my leash back to Big Jim. “and, thank you, Jim,” he added. He stuck out his hand for Jim to shake.

Big Jim took his hand. “You’ve changed, Breed. I think you may be developing some manners and thoughtfulness,” Big Jim said. Breed just beamed.“The way you handled my slave was a credit to any master,” Big Jim added.

“It certainly was, Breed,” Beryl agreed.

“Impressed the shit out a’ me,” Blaine allowed.

The man just beamed with the praise.

“You get my vote, too, Breed,” I said.

“Yours was the one I was hoping for, Beau,” he said sincerely.

“You want a beer, Breed?” Blaine asked him.

“Anyone else drinking?” he asked.

“We just finished breakfast. We got some left if you’re hungry,” Blaine offered.

“That would be better than drinking this early, Blaine, if you’re sure you don’t mind,” he said.

“For you, Breed? Not a problem,” Blaine said with enthusiasm. Blaine got busy in the kitchen warming the left over eggs.

“You need help, Blaine?” I asked.

“You heard what dad said, my hero, Slave Brother,” he replied.

Blaine set Breed up to eat at the bar and fixed him a cup of coffee. Beryl walked up behind me and slipped his huge arms around my waist. He grabbed my cock and balls again, kissed me gently on the neck, and spoke in a low, confidential tone of voice. “I got one new penny last night, but I’ll give you credit if I don’t collect the other one today,” Beryl said.

I turned to him and kissed him on the cheek. “I’d appreciate it, Dad, if you’d charge me interest at a compound rate," I said.

He broke up laughing. “You’re a wicked, Slave-boy, Beau. You know that turns this old man on when you talk shit like that,” he said.

“God, I hope so. At least I’m a slave who knows how to spend his pennies,” I said in resignation.

He laughed again. “If I ask my buddy, Big Jim, real nice, you think he might give you permission to ride me the way you rode him last night and let Blaine watch? Watching you ride Big Jim got me so damn hot I almost came. Blaine thought it was pretty damn hot, too. It looked like something I would really enjoy, and if’n Blaine could get some idea what you're doing, I could start training him to get me off that way. “It’s about time my old, muley slave learned a new trick to pleasure his old man. I need to start using his ass more. I love his little cunt, but I do miss me some ass-fucking. If I let him go too long without punching his ticket it takes him a while to work up to taking all of me again. Maybe a plug might help, what’dya’ think, Darlin’?” he asked with a grin.

“I think its helped me, Dad. I’ve gotten so used to it, it’s part of me now, but you never get so acclimated it ain’t a constant reminder of who put it there and why. You’d think I’d resent having to wear something like that all the time, but I don’t. I even tried cheating one night when I was going out and had to go home and put it back in I felt so empty. I don’t think my master even understands how much I love him for making me wear it. Does that sound warped, Dad?” I asked.

“Fuck no, look how long its taken me to convince Blaine his only purpose in life is to serve me. He was never gonna’ submit to me totally. He knew from the first night, once I took him, there was no turning back. I made it very clear and made him repeat it back to me, if he submitted to me that night he would be my slave forever. I wouldn’t hear or tolerate any excuses. I wouldn’t take 'no' for an answer. He had to make damn sure the intensity of my passion for him was something he wanted. Then he said the two magic words,” Big Beryl said.

“What’s that, Dad?” I asked.

“Fuck me!” Beryl replied. I laughed at Beryl’s magic words.

“Blaine was never mean spirited. He could be an ornery motherfucker when he wanted to be, but never with me. I knew he loved me ‘cause he never strayed far. He was just mischievous. He wanted his cake and eat mine, too. He was like a little kid who wanted to see how far he could go before his parents would yank him up by the short-hairs. I knew I had to do something radical to convince him how seriously important his being my slave was to me and ultimately to him. Once he was on that operating table in Tijuana his greatest fear wasn’t losing everything, it was whether I was gonna’ still want him for my slave. Once I assured him it was why he was on the operating table, he looked at the two Mexican doctors and told them, ‘Make me the finest cunt you can for my old man and make it big.' Then he passed out from the shot they gave him.

"When he woke up he had a cunt. Nice one too, big, deep. He never once agonized over the change. In fact the first time I used it, he came after about five minutes. Told me he never had an orgasm like that in his life. We’re still close friends with the two good looking Mexican surgeons. We stay with them when we go to Tijuana. They fuck Blaine every time we go down,” Big Beryl said with a grin.

“My Master has already ordered me to give you or Blaine any pleasure you might ask of me as long as he gets to watch,” I told him.

“Oh, fuck, that’s no problem for either of us. Blaine and I talked it over, and if you guys come out again, we’d love to watch Jim work you over. That man fucks like a wild animal,” he said.

I blushed and smiled knowingly at his comments. “Why do you think I gave him the name Babe the giant blue ox?” I asked.

“Paul Bunyan’s ox?” Beryl asked.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

“Shit, it fits. Now I see the different names are one. Clever, Little Beaver,” he said and patted me on my butt.

“I wouldn’t do that, Master, if you’re wearing jewelry,” I warned him.

“Why’s that, Son?” he asked.

“You might lose it in the vacuum,” I said.

He threw back his head in laughter. “Beau, you’re so damn wicked, I love you, boy,” he said.

“I love the both of you already. No one has ever treated me with greater kindness and hospitality, and on top of that, I got ‘me’ ticket punched by a fourteen incher to boot. That gives me brag'n rights. One new penny bought me one Hell of a lot of cock,” I bragged.

“Sweet Jesus, you’re so bad,” he said and roared with laughter. “I’m gonna’ ask your old man if I can turn you over my knee and spank that ass of yours until I get it all nice, warm, and red. Just ripe for fuck'n,’ he said and roared with laughter.

“Hell, Dad, you don’t have to asked, he’s already given you permission through me. You feel like doing it, just do it, but I gotta’ warn ya,’” I replied.

“How’s that, Slave?” he asked and grinned bracing himself for my answer.

“The third or fourth swat from your big paw I’ll come all over you. I make a mess, but I sure as Hell love to be made to lick it off you,” I said. My cock was getting rock hard in the old man’s paw. “Now look what you done to me, Dad, ain’t you ashamed to do that to a defenseless, inexperienced slave-boy?” I asked him.

He laughed even harder. Breed was watching enthralled by our exchange. "Holy fuck, what’d I do to deserve this? Two men-slaves who can wrap this poor old master around their fingers. Inexperienced, you might be, defenseless you ain’t,” he said and couldn’t stop laughing. “Woah, Child, I thought my boy could talk some shit, but I think you got him beat,” he said. We both laughed.

“I ain’t blowing smoke up yore’ ass, Dad,” I said emphatically. "Master Jeb punished me yesterday for coming when he ordered me not to. I tried hard, but he felt so damn good fucking me I couldn’t stop. He wasn’t going to punish me, but I begged him so it would help me learn. He let me pick the paddle and the number of hits. I picked a big one with holes in it and told him I should have at least twenty. I don’t think he wanted to give me that many, but he went along with my wishes. On the seventeenth hit I come on his boots,” I bragged.

“Damn, Son, that makes me so hot. You know I trained Blaine to come when I use my whip on him. Now he can come after about eight or nine hits from my bull whip. I’d sure as Hell like to use my whip on that sweet little ass of yorn,” he said.

“Don’t ask, just do it. I’ll just tell my master it would bring you pleasure to whip my ass. Done. He’ll tell me to make him proud. I know him that well by now. Please, Dad, don’t ever tell me I’m bad again. Look what you done to me,” I said. Old swinger was straight eight and saluting.

He looked and stroked my hard dick with his massive paw and roared with laughter. “You know, Beau, I think we’re both bad. I won’t change if you promise not to. Shit, I gotta’ have some reason to whup your pretty little butt,” he said.

“Deal, Dad,” I agreed.

I noticed Breed kept looking at me and Beryl fascinated with our banter. I could see something running through his mind. He smiled at me a couple of times, and I nodded back as I was talking softly to Big Beryl. He sure took notice when old swinger got hard. He got a shit eating grin on his face that implied some very nasty thoughts. My kinda man. Breed finished and Blaine took his plate to clean. “That was great Blaine, thanks, Bro. I really appreciate it. Why’d ju’ call Beau ‘hero’ a while ago, Brother? Did he get a cat out of a tree?” he asked.

Everyone laughed. Blaine looked at me like he didn’t want to answer without input from me so I decided to answer Breed’s question. “Something like that, Breed,” I replied laughing.

Blaine shook his head. He got a determined look in his eye. “I ain't gonna’ shine Breed on, Beau. I wasn’t kidding about what I said. What I witnessed a while ago when Breed checked you out as Jim’s slave impressed the Hell out a’ me. Master Jim was right, Breed, you’re changing, and changing for the better I might add. I for one, have a much higher opinion of you than I used to. With that in mind, you deserve more respect from me, not as a slave, but a compassionate neighbor. You deserve the truth, Breed. Beau and I have known each other about eight or ten years, I guess. He only came back into my life again last night— after what, Beau— eight years?" I nodded in agreement.

"You know I walk with a limp. This man saved my life in Nam. He not only cut me out of a small bamboo cage where the VC were holding me, he carried me on his back forty-two miles through enemy territory to safety. He saved six other guys at the same time. You remember little Wes, Master Earl’s slave? He cut him out of one of them cages, too. I was Beau's ranking officer, but he got me back safely. He was a non-com Navy corpsman and didn’t know how to shoot a gun. He was awarded seven purple hearts and the bronze star for heroism,” Blaine finished.

Breed looked at me with glazed eyes as if looking at a far away place. "I was over there in that stinking, Hell hole. Damn, that fuck'n place stunk all the time. I got shot-up pretty bad at ‘Ply Mae.’ There was a corpsman who took his time to patch me up in the field. Three other corpsmen passed over me. Told me I was too wounded to help. ‘Best if we let him die,’ I heard them say to each other. I was still conscious, I could hear them talking. I was scared out of my wits. There were other men less wounded than me they felt they had a better chance of saving. One told me as he was patching up my buddy, ‘Sorry, Man, we only have so much time, and we gotta’ work as fast as we can to save those who have a better chance.’

"I could only lie there weeping knowing I was going to die. I was lying there with my fuck’n guts on the ground. Suddenly, out of nowhere, there was this good looking corpsman wearing cowboy boots beside me, he shot me up with morphine ‘til I didn’t give a damn whether I lived or died. He pulled on a pair of surgical gloves, began picking leaves and twigs out of my guts, told me to close my eyes or turn my head and not look. He gently pucked up my internal organs, shoveled my guts back inside my abdomen, sprinkled me with some antibiotic powder, and taped me up. He lit me a joint of killer weed and stuck it in my mouth and told me to suck.

“By the time he got through with me my head was so fucked up I didn't care what he did with me. The guy was really good and the docs said if he hadn’t taken the time to do what he did, I’d be dead. He cared enough to stop and help me when the others wrote me off. I owe the good-hearted son of a bitch my life, and I don't even know who he was. I know he was from Texas because he told me when I asked about his boots. He stayed with me ‘til the last e-vacs got there. All the other corpsmen left on the first or second e-vacs and left the guys there bandaged. He never left me or the others. He calmed me, lit cigarettes for me, gave me another joint to smoke, held me in his arms, even kissed me on my neck for comfort like it was the most natural thing in the world for him to do.

"I wasn’t gay at the time, but I love that man to this day for his forwardness. Perhaps he knew I needed some love from someone, anyone, and he was the only person who would or could give it to me. He was man enough to defy straight/gay bullshit conventions and give me what I needed at that moment. God, I loved the man for that. He swore to me I was gonna’ make it. Said he’d seen much worse than me pull through. Someone told me later he had several medals, but he threw away the last four purple hearts. The only name I knew they called him was Br’er Rabbit. You know— like in that Disney movie,” Breed said.

Blaine knew my nickname, and watched me closely. He saw me turn pale white as the blood rushed from my head and things began to go dark. Blaine ran to catch me. “Steady, Beau! Hold on to me, Bro! You're safe in my arms, Beau!” Blaine said in a firm voice. Big Beryl held me from the back and felt my knees buckle. He held me tight to support me. I put my arms around Blaine and started sobbing uncontrollably with Blaine and Beryl for support.

“Oh God, no! Did I say something wrong, Blaine?” Breed cried in distress.

“No, you didn't, Breed. Your brain subconsciously put the parts together, and you were just trying to work out the puzzle. Our slave brother, here, you just examined is your Br’er Rabbit, Breed,” Blaine said quietly.

“Dear God in heaven, what have I done?” cried Breed in pain and anguish, as his legs began to go out from under him. Big Jim jumped to catch Breed and lowered him to the floor. Beryl was right there with Blaine and me with his big arms around both of us as Blaine lost it.

I heard Big Jim’s voice. “Beau! Blaine! Get over here! Hold this man! He needs you! You need each other!” Master Jim barked at us. We went to Breed who was curled up against Big Jim’s chest in a fetal position, put our arms around him and pulled him to us. The three of us let the pain, the hurt, the confusion, the stupidity, the anger, the frustration, the waste of it all come out. Big Beryl and Master Jim had their arms around the three of us. We remained that way for some time crying, wailing, rocking back and forth with each other until our guts hurt and our tear ducts became painful.

After a while there was a quiet calm settle over us. I started laughing. Breed started laughing at me, and Blaine laughed at both of us. We’d made the transition from depression to a manic state, slightly embarrassed at our inability to control our emotions. “Oh, God,” I cried “will we ever heal? What must our masters think of us? Look at us, we’re a mess. God, Breed, you were right, Bro, you knew me from somewhere, but you couldn’t quite figure it out. Your name is Breedlove,” I said. He lit up like a pinball machine that just went ‘Tilt.’

“You remember my name?” he asked.

“Yeah, Jimmy Mack Breedlove, from Cut’n Chute, Texas. How could I forget a name like that?” Breed hugged and kissed me again.

“Beau, I was so Goddamn scared that day. Scared I was gonna’ die. I was so scared of dying. I had my nineteenth birthday two days before. My life was fucking over at nineteen. It wasn’t fair. I didn’t do anything to deserve dying in that stinking rice patty. I saw my guts spilled out on the ground. You came along, lit me a cigarette and told me not to watch while you scooped my guts back into my belly with your hands,” he recalled the horror of war. Tears were running down Breed’s face. “You bound me and shot me up with morphine. The pain went away but the fear didn’t. You stayed when the rest of the corpsmen went out on the first or second e-vacs. You stayed with me ‘til they came back, assuring me I wasn’t gonna’ die. You stayed with me the whole time. You could’ve been killed. You risked your life to save me and them other guys you watched over.

"You lit more cigarettes for me, a joint, told me you wouldn’t leave me, and you didn’t ‘til the Hewey took us both. Look," Breed ordered. He raised his shirt, I saw the massive scars, and remembered all too vividly how it looked back then, when I literally shoveled his guts back into him and picked the leaves, twigs, and bugs out of his intestines with my fingers. I touched his scars, and it all came rushing back to me as if it were yesterday. My head fell into his lap, my arms wrapped tightly around his waist, my body started dry heaving and spasming, as he gently stroked my head and kissed me on my head and neck. “I owe you my fucking life, Beau. I wouldn’t have lived if you left me. You knew it, too. Even after you bandaged me you kept telling me to fight. Fuck Nam! Fuck everything, just fight for my goddamn life.

“You told me I could make it, but I had to want it. You told me I had to want to live. You couldn’t do it for me. I wanted to fight. God knows I wanted to, but lying there in your arms, looking up into your handsome face, I began to see you as my guardian angel. I never felt more safe in my life as I did in your arms. It was at that moment I knew I could make it, and I started fighting. You don’t know how many times I thought of that over the years of lying in your arms feeling safe. You were going to see to it, if I wanted it bad enough, I was gonna' live. I was so afraid, I would've given up if you hadn’t kept badgering me. You didn’t give up. You damn sure weren’t gonna’ let me give up. You kept slapping my face to keep me awake. I wanted to kiss you, then kill you, then you’d make me laugh, and I’d wanna’ kiss you again. You were so Goddamn cocksure of yourself, and I thought, ‘Well, Hell, he’s a medic, he must know what he’s doing.’

Breed started crying again and his tears were like hot rain on my face. I reached up, put my arm around his neck, and pulled him down to me. He leaned over and gently kissed me on the forehead. “Thanks for saving my life, Beau,” he whispered, “I tried to send you a letter to thank you. I sent it to Br’er Rabbit, ‘cause nobody knew your real name. Everybody knew Br’er Rabbit, so I thought it might get to you.”

“I got it, Jimmy, return address Cut’n Chute, Texas. I just never wrote back, ‘cause by that time I was so burned out, I was on drugs most of the time. I was over there almost seven fucking years. God, what do we do now? My first response would be to say for the three of us to get drunk,” I said.

“No,” said Breed, “That don’t help. It only makes me mean spirited and angry. Sometimes, I don’t even know what the Hell I’m angry about. I used to beat the shit out of my beautiful slave I loved so fucking much when I drank. I’d ask myself, Beryl and Blaine would ask me, if you truly love the kid how can you do this to him? I couldn’t give them an answer then, and I can’t now. I just wish I could let him know it weren’t his fault. He was the best slave any man could hope for, and he worshiped me. He loved me unconditionally. I let it all slip away because of my uncontrollable rage. The anger, the crippling anger... but, at what? My beautiful slave boy finally had enough. I scared him to death. He ran away. I can’t blame him. I’ve tried to run away from me, too. I look back now, and I could've killed him I was so out of control,” Breed said with remorse.

“After what you went through I don’t wonder. Damn, Jimmy, you saw your fucking guts lying on the ground for Christ sake. A stranger comes along and slaps ‘em back inside you, the army gives you a pat on the butt, sends you back into the huddle, and you wonder why you’re angry? You come out of something like that, horrors you see, day in and day out, you live it, you taste it, you smell it, until it chokes the life out of you, then they expect you to come back and pick up your fucking life like nothing ever happened,” I said.

“Yeah, good fucking luck, Buddy,” Blaine added.

“You know, Beau, you’re right. Some of my meanness comes from the fact no one understands or cares what we went through over there. World War two Vets came home heroes. Korean Vets were heroes. Our ‘police action’ in Nam was a waste, and we were the returning clowns who were stupid enough to be sold a bill of goods about drawing a line in the sand to stop communism. We thought we were fighting for our country. Hell, we weren’t fighting for our country. We were fighting for the fat cats who controlled interest in the tungsten mines. We weren’t returning heroes, we were shit. Less than shit when we came back. I guess I still feel that way,” Breed said.

“Me, too, Jimmy,” I agreed.

“Yeah, me, too,” Blaine agreed, "although I’ve been a little luckier than you guys. I have a master who listens endlessly and patiently to me for hours about what we went through, and when my anger comes out he kicks my butt up between my shoulder blades. I think he thinks all my talk about loving him is just so much shit, ‘cause I’ll admit as much comes out my mouth as my ass, but I’d probably be dead if’n it weren’t for him. He has a hard time understanding my self-destructive anger, but it’s always there, lurking in the background. We apologize, Masters, for our emotional collapse,” Blaine told Big Jim and Beryl.

“Hell, you and I weren’t this bad yesterday, were we, Blaine...Honey?” I added for humor. I winked at Big Beryl who laughed. I could tell he and Jim were visibly shaken. “I guess it has to do with the moment. Breed struck a knife in my gut when he said my nickname. I was the only corpsman in Nam they called Br’er Rabbit. Master Jim was holding me now, and I was feeling better.

“You know, of all the people I helped in Nam it’s not so unusual I should run into one every so often. The law of averages predicts it. It’s just I probably don’t recognize most of them. Who would think the three of us were in a war thousands of miles away at the same time, then sitting here today together, but we were, and we are. I’ve probably stood in a bar somewhere beside some guy I patched up in the field who survived and unless we spoke of these things we would never know our paths crossed before.

"It’s like Jimmy would go away and never figured out where he knew me. He knew he knew me. I was someone important to him, but we don’t want to connect things which might bring back remembered pain. So, he drew a blank. Me, too, but I have a penchant for names. I can rattle off name after name of men I helped and as many names of those who died in my arms. Why can’t I forget them? I don’t always connect the faces, but I can’t forget the names. Just like I couldn’t forget Jimmy Mack Breedlove,” I said.

We were winding down. We were emotionally exhausted. It was time to move on. “Somehow, I feel better,” Breed said quietly.

“So do I,” Blaine said.

“Yeah, me, too,” I agreed, “Let’s see if we can’t get together again and talk when we don’t have two fine men’s love to neglect. I’m sure if we get off by ourselves they’ll understand, or they could join us if they want. We can set a time limit and say anything. Then when the time’s up we forget it and go about our lives,” I said.

“I’d like that,” Breed said,“I think It would help my therapy come along faster.”

“Might take some of the load off dad and help me reach my goal quicker of becoming his obedient slave,” Blaine said.

“It sure as Hell couldn’t hurt me none, ‘cause I’ve kept this shit inside me too damn long. It needs to come out,” I said. I looked at them, “Join hands in a circle with me. You, too, Masters, Jim and Beryl,” I said. Never being very religious I remembered an old Indian prayer from my days as a Boy Scout when I was inducted into the Order of the Arrow, I paraphrased, “Great Spirit of mankind, heal our hearts, give us the wisdom of the eagle, the courage of the wolf, and the strength of the bear, to overcome our pain. Amen.”

“Thanks, Beau, that said it all, and I just hope he’s listening,” Blaine said.

“Amen to that, Brother,” Breed agreed.

“We gotta’ get our minds off this for right now. Our reuniting should be about joy of finding each other and surviving. Damn, it’s good to see you again, Breed. We only knew each other briefly, but I remember your heart. I know I wasn’t wrong. I remember seeing it beating in there when I re-stuffed you with straw,” I said and grinned. He laughed at my reference to the ‘Wizard of Oz.’ “Underneath your emotional baggage you got a good heart. Maybe you need to hear someone tell you from time to time. I’ll volunteer for the job,” I said and held up my hand. Breed got tears in his eyes and hugged me again.

“If I ever trusted anyone in this world to save me, it would be you, Beau. How could I not trust a man who found me on the threshold of death, and cared enough to reach out and pull me back?" he asked. "Oh, and by the way, neither of you will kneel to kiss my boots again. Brothers don’t kiss their brother’s boots,” he said.

“Fuck, why punish me, Jimmy?” I asked. He got a stunned look on his face, thought for a minute then started laughing at me. “I don’t speak for Blaine, but you wear a hot pair of boots my tongue was made for,” I said. Everyone laughed at me.

“This slave seconds that,” Blaine said and held up his hand to vote. Breed beamed with joy.

“If it means that much to you, I would be honored and thrilled for two men who I don’t deserve to be in the same room with, should wish to show me that respect. I love you both very much,” he said.

“Then maybe, when we kiss your boots you’ll realize we’re doing it out of love and respect for you,” Blaine said.

“And not just because we’re slaves ordered by our masters to do it,” I added.

“I knew there was something special about you the minute I walked into the room and saw you on Big Jim’s leash. Something told me to get to my knees in front of you, there’s something special about this man you can’t afford to fuck up, so humble your ass to him. It was as if a voice told me and said, ‘he may be Jim’s slave but it don’t matter, you must show him respect, be of gentle, and kind spirit with him,’” Breed said.

Big Beryl put his arm around Breed and pulled him close. “We all witnessed it, Son. We saw it happen. It was real. Blaine and I looked at each other and shook our heads like, ‘This ain’t the Breed we know.’ I hope it becomes the Breed we can be proud to know." Big Beryl told him.

“I sincerely hope so, too, Beryl,” he agreed.

“He will,” I said, “he’s already taken the biggest step on his journey.”

“Yeah, the first one’s a motherfucker,” Breed said.

We all laughed again. “Well, in the spirit of doing something to take our minds off it, can I see a show of hands? Who’d like their dick sucked?” All hands went up but Blaine’s. “That was pretty fucking insensitive of me, wasn’t it, Blaine? Oh Hell, Breed and me, we’s brothers. You know what I meant,” I half-ass apologized. Everyone laughed and Blaine hugged me.

“Are you Big Jim’s full time slave or do you have a job as well?” Jimmy asked.

“I’m a slave, but I pull my own weight. I bring my paycheck home every Friday and hand it to my master. A slave has no use for money. I trust my master to take care of me. I do the same work you do Breed, I’m a grease monkey, except I work on huge commercial trucks,” I said.

“Yeah, but he’s being promoted foreman grease-monkey of his shop tomorrow morning,” Master Jim said with unmistakable pride.

“Damn, what a coincidence and congratulations, Beau,” Breed said shaking my hand. “I’m sure glad you two are together. I know’d and rode with Big Jim for a number of years. They don’t make ‘em no finer,” Breed allowed.

“Breed, you’ll probably be seeing us around in the near future. So, there’s no misunderstanding, Beau’s my slave for right now and for the next three or four months. I’m keeping him and training him for someone else, but I can’t tell you who. Not even Beryl or Blaine know for sure; however, for right now, Beau’s ass is mine,” Master Jim said.

“Beau, I mean this with all the love in my heart, but it will probably come out wrong,” he said. He turned to Jim, “Jim, if you ever find it in your heart to share Beau for a while, some evening, I would be a gentleman and do my damnedest to make him feel good,” he said.

“Fuck the gentleman. Beau needs an animal, but it’s my job to watch with gun and chair in hand like Clyde Beatty,” Master Jim said and laughed.

“You can all watch. Hell, Beryl can hold an elephant gun. If you need an animal, Beau, you’re looking at him. I’d try to show this man the love I feel in my heart for him any way he needs it,” he said, and I believed him.

“I certainly will consider it, Breed. Let me think about it,” Master Jim replied.

“They’ll be no anger if you say ‘no,’ ‘cause I don’t wanna’ do something stupid to keep me away from knowing him. He’s important to me. I’m not sure how I feel, but I know he’s important. My heart can’t help feel love and appreciation for you, Beau. You saved my Goddamn life, brother,” he said on the verge of tears again.

I put my arms around him and looked him in the eyes. “You’re important to me, too, Jimmy. We’ll get to know each other. Hell, maybe even help each other, and I can’t help love you, either. You’re one of my children who made it, who survived. To tell the truth, I didn’t give you a snowball’s chance in Hell in the ‘Hewey’ on the way back to the hospital. I wouldn’t let you go to sleep, remember? You wanted to go to sleep so bad from the morphine and the weed, and your mind just wanted to escape the horror. You tried to go to sleep, but I kept slapping your face. 'Wake up Jimmy. You have to stay awake ‘til we get there. It’s not much further, stay with me Jimmy, come on, Jimmy Mack, wake up.' You’d look at me like you wanted to kick my ass, and I’d tell you, 'That’s right, Jimmy Mack, get mad, come on, get really mad, ‘cause if you’re mad at this ugly son of a bitch what keeps smacking you in the face, you won’t go to sleep.' Then you’d laugh at me and try to go to sleep again. If I let you, you would've gone into shock, lapsed into coma, and I don’t know if they could've brought you around.” I gently kissed him. He was crying again, so was I.

“God, Beau, how can a man thank you for his life?” Breed asked from the bottom of his soul.

“You just did, Jimmy,” I replied.

Part II ~ Bumpy Road to Heaven

“In my youth,” said the sage,
“as I’ve mentioned before,
I kept all of my bones very supple.
With the aid of this ointment,
One Shilling a box,
allow me to sell you a couple.” ~
Lewis Carroll

“Don’t you and your slave have a trip to make to the mail box on your Harley, Jim?” Big Beryl asked.

“Yeah! You still up for it, Beau?” Big Jim asked.

I got a big shit-eating grin on my face.

“He’s up for it,” Blaine replied for me and laughed, “But, let’s be up front with Breed, Beau,” Blaine said.

“The main purpose for us coming out here was so my master could ride me on his cock on his Harley,” I said like a little boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

Breed laughed and admitted he did it many times with his slave-boy. “Can I watch?” he asked.

“Of course,” Big Jim replied.

Master Jim led me off into our bedroom on my leash. He closed the door behind him and led me to the bed. We made it up earlier and spread a play sheet on top. He lay back on the bed and pulled me to him with the leash. He cradled me in his arms and kissed me gently on the forehead.

“Are you all right, Beau?” he asked in a concerned tone.

“I don’t know, Master. I think so. I’m emotionally drained, but I feel stronger than I did yesterday. I have a couple more answers. I’m sorry you had to go through that. I’m feeling a little embarrassed. That sort of thing leaves you feeling emotionally naked and vulnerable. It’s important for me to know if you’re disappointed or unhappy with me. Did I make a fool of myself?” I asked.

“You keep forgetting I was over there, too. I know what you guys are going through, and believe me, it’s helped me to hear you guys talk. Beau, you have the ability to let everything out and then quickly recover, dust yourself off, and say, 'Well, what the Hell are we gonna’ do about it?' I think you helped those two in there as much or more than you helped yourself. We could see a major breakthrough in Breed. He can be an obnoxious little asshole sometime, but he came around you with his hat in his hand.

“We never saw Breed be that much of a gentleman with anyone, Master or slave. I truly believe he sensed you were his savior. I told you earlier about my suspicions of the Twilight Zone element of what’s been going on with you, but no more. I’m a believer. Beryl and Blaine couldn’t get over the change in him. I would never entertain letting him be with you for a moment until today. I’m still not sure, but we’ll discuss it. It’s not something I would order you to do, certainly if your heart wasn’t in it. Now there may come a time when I want you to pleasure someone of my choosing, and you’ll have no choice,” he said.

“You know I would. I would never question an order from you. I’ve been hearing all this talk about me trusting people. When is someone going to start trusting me?” I asked with some frustration. Master Jim was quiet for a good while then pulled me to him and kissed me.

“When you hammer a nail, you hit it on the head, Kid. You’re right, you’ve done nothing to make me think you would ever consider not obeying me. From this moment on, I trust you to be my slave. It should be that simple. I know you trust me to be your master so why shouldn’t I trust you to be my slave? When you told Breed you didn’t have any choice in the matter was a reaffirmation of your trust in me not to put you in a situation which might harm you, and I missed it at the time. You told him you trusted your master to take good care of you. Big men can be dense sometime, Beau, especially this one. I suppose it's better for a big man to wake up late than never. No more, 'of course in this situation you’ll have to do this or that.' I simply trust you to be my slave. You may require correction, but that can be handled when or if it happens, agreed?” he asked.

“Only a big man could say what you just said, Master,” I replied and then added, “No question, I agree. I’m your slave and will be until the day I die. If I’m lucky, after that, too,” then I added, “If you feel I need correction, I'll never argue or question your decision. If you need to punish me I'll accept it as necessary to learn to serve you better,” I replied.

“Why the Hell are we training you? You should be training us,” he said and laughed. “You can learn a lot from Jeb and me, but I got a feeling we’re gonna’ learn a lot from you, too. Pull on your leathers, boy. We’re gonna’ go play male-train. I get to be the engineer and you get to pull the caboose,” he said with a grin.

“I hope I get a big special delivery package,” I said.

“There will be, with your name on it,” he said. We rolled on the bed laughing. “I’ll tuck it right in your male pouch,” he added laughing.

“Master, I need to jump in the shower for a minute before I put my leathers on,” I said.

“Sure, here, I’ll unlock your collar and take your plug out for you,” he said.

“Thank you, sir,” I replied.

Master Jim unlocked my collar, removed my plug, and I headed for the shower.

“I’ll be in to get you in a minute. If you’re dressed before I get back, just wait for me. I’ll put your collar back on,” he yelled over the shower.

My relationship with Big Jim was growing hourly. I could never have hoped two weeks ago I would develop a strong bond with him because of his fear of Jeb and maybe love itself. All I knew was my heart was a lot lighter, and I was about to fulfill one of my fantasies, complete with audience. How lucky can a slave get? I had my leathers on when my master came back to the room. He attached my collar and locked it, then he clipped his leash to my collar.

“I’ll take this off when we’re on the bike, but Beryl loves to see you on a leash. Couldn’t talk about anything else while you were in shower. That old man thinks you put the moon out every night. He and Blaine are talking about bidding on you. If they pay the deposit required they get you for a weekend. It depends, of course, on how many people want to bid and then pay the deposit. They haven’t said anything to Breed about the family or you being put on the market. With his reputation, I don’t think Breed could get into the family in time to qualify anyway.

“We just feel it would be better not to say anything to him at this time. If he continues to improve we certainly won’t deny him the chance to become a part of our family. Hell, Beryl and me would sponsor him ourselves. Beryl and Blaine are hoping for great things for him. Blaine has a totally new attitude toward him. He even asked Breed if he’d like to stay for a freebie later,” Master Jim said then added, "By the way, Beryl wants to beat your ass in the worse way, but he’d never hurt you.”

“I am sure of it. That old man would cut his own dick off first,” I replied.

“Pretty sure of yourself, ain’t ya,’ Kid?” he asked.

“Only with, Dad Beryl. I’ve fallen in love with him, and I know he loves me,” I said.

“I’ve never see him taken with anyone like he is with you. Blaine will always be number one, but you’ve found a special place in the old man’s heart. You’re making family, Kid, I’m proud of you,” he said. The giant man grabbed me and kissed me tenderly. “Now, hit the position,” he ordered and snapped his fingers. I responded immediately.

“I didn’t teach you that! Earl?” he asked.

“Yes, sir,” I replied.

“Good for him,” Big Jim said.

Master Jim went to his overnight case and returned with a grease gun attached to an approximately twelve inch rubber dildo. He unsnapped my ass cover and slowly inserted it after he spread some lubricant on my hole. He was gentle, and it felt good going in as he slowly worked it all the way up inside me. Then he pumped it as he withdrew it filling my chute with lubricant. “I don’t know how rough this will be, but I want you to be protected with enough lubricant so you won’t get hurt. Now, don’t be surprised if Beryl wants to give you a ride, too. You up to it?” he asked.

“As long as I get to pull your caboose first,” I replied.

“Ah, you do know how to work this old man, Slave,” Big Jim said and grinned.

“Ain’t that my job?” I asked.

“Of course it is. Just trying to let you know it’s appreciated,” he said.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that, Master. Babe let’s me know,” I replied.

“Beryl’s right. You really do need your little ass beat. You’re very bad,” he said. We shared a laugh.

Master Jim led me on his leash to the living room. All eyes were on me as we walked into the room. The three of them embarrassed me by applauding. Breed walked over to feel my cod piece and threw his arms around me. “I can’t make up my mind whether you’re sexier in your leathers on naked? Either way, feel this... ” he ordered and gently moved my hand down to his crotch where I felt a large roaring hard cock.

“Breed, that ain’t a gun in your pocket,” I said.

He laughed. “Go on, I want to see this ride to the mail box,” Breed said.

I noticed Big Beryl and Blaine were wearing their leathers. Master Beryl looked like a Master’s Master and Big Jim caught me looking at his boots and cod piece.

“Beryl, would you please take his leash and don’t let him loose while I grab a beer,” Master Jim said.

Beryl took my leash, I fell to my knees and began to clean his boots. He kept talking to Blaine, Breed, and Jim as I worked on his boots. He lay back, relaxed as if it were the most natural thing I could be doing for him. I finished and asked if he was pleased or should I do them again.

He leaned over, kissed me on the forehead, and looked down at his boots. “Damn fine, Son, now, slowly turn your head and look at Breed’s crotch,” he whispered. I did as instructed and started laughing. Breed had a wet spot at his crotch the size of a silver dollar. Big Beryl yanked his chain. "Uh, Breed, honey... we got us a restroom in 'nere. You don’t have to piss your pants,” Beryl said. Everyone laughed at poor Breed’s expense.

He knew Beryl was kidding. He blushed. “What the Hell! It’s fucking hot watching Beau clean your boots,” he said and grinned.

“Get chore’ ass over here, Son,” Big Beryl barked at Breed. Breed walked over and Master Beryl snapped his fingers for me to clean Breed’s boots. I didn’t hesitate. My mouth was watering to get at his boots since I first kissed them. Beryl snapped his fingers at Blaine to get on the other one. Blaine was by me in an instant. We must have looked like two shoats feeding at a trough. I have to admit Blaine put his heart into it, and Breed was transported to boot-master heaven. "This is too fucking much, guys. Can I pull my dick out and play with myself, Beryl? I’m so fucking horny,” he said.

“You’re with family, Son, whip it out and lope yore' old mule,” Beryl challenged him.

Beryl didn’t have to urge him again. Breed had a pretty big cock with a nice large clipped head. I finished his boot, and I heard Master Jim behind me.

“Take him, Slave,” he ordered. Breed looked surprised as I immediately started running my tongue over his fine cock and kissing the head. He held it for me so I could clean it good. I sucked and cleaned his balls. I came back to his cock and continued to lick it. “You gotta’ give him permission to take you, Breed. That’s the way he’s been trained and won’t until you tell him he can have it,” Big Jim told him.

“Beautiful Slave, that old dick of mine is so hard for you I can just feel it in your hot mouth. Do you want to taste my love, Slave?” he asked.

“Please, Master Breed, I want it really bad. It would give me joy to pleasure and bring you comfort, sir,” I said softly.

“When it fills your throat remember it’s ‘cause I love you I’m giving you what you need. You can have it, Slave. Enjoy that big cock of mine. Make me feel good while I give you what you need,” he said.

I was all the way on it. It took his breath away as I took it all in one lunge and held it in the back of my throat. My lips were pressed tight against his pubs. I saw a big hand move down Breed's crotch to see how close my lips were pressed against his belly. It was Big Beryl.

“I’ll bet that slave could suck chrome off a bumper hitch,” Big Beryl allowed, “Feel good, Son?” he asked Breed with a grin.

“God, yes, sir. I ain’t had my cock sucked in so long and this beautiful slave is gonna’ get me in nothing flat. I can feel it boiling up inside me. This is like dream come true,” he said.

I pulled off and started sucking him in a good rhythm. I could still feel Blaine cleaning Breed’s boots. Breed gently placed a hand behind my head and acted like a stop for my out stroke. He kept moving it in slowly, and I knew the length of stroke he liked best by where he held his hand to my head. I picked up the rhythm, reached my hand up to his ass and gently shoved one finger in, then two. He felt the third finger enter, arched his back, and started yelling, "No fair, Love. No fucking fair, you know what the fuck you’re doing. Aaahh! Oh, Beau, my love, my fucking savior, you’re saving my life once more. Take it, Sweetheart, take it from me, take my love, it’s all I have to give, beautiful slave. Uuhhgg! Unhh!” he exclaimed in orgasm.

Breed bent over me and enfolded my head with both his arms, and I felt hot tears falling on my head as I slowly swallowed his man load, and sucked his last spurts into my mouth. I held him in me for a good while enjoying his essence, gently sucking, and cleaning him. Then Breed fell to his knees again, looked me in the eyes with a big watery smile on his face and asked softly, “Please, please, kiss me gentle slave. I’m so grateful,” he said. We kissed a long and passionate kiss.

“Don’t suck his soul out, Son,” Big Beryl said laughing. Breed moved to Blaine and ask him for a kiss as well. Blaine didn’t hold back. I got the feeling Breed was pleased but a little shocked. “You guys are really hot. You’ve given me a shot in the arm to work even harder at my therapy. I want another slave of my own someday. Thank you Master Jim and Master Beryl for sharing with me. I didn’t mean for you to consider this afternoon, but I’m... I'm, overwhelmed. He started crying again, we put our arms around him.

Beryl spoke for us. “Breed, when your friends see you trying to correct some wrongs, they’ll stand by you through the fires of Hell. Just keep working, Son. We have faith in you,” he said sincerely. We all agreed. I turned to Big Beryl and asked him, “Master may I do something I’ve been wanting to do since I got here?”

“Sure, Son, what is it?” he asked.

“May I just show you, sir?” I asked.

“Sure,” he replied. I slowly moved to his crotch and started cleaning his huge, well filled cod piece on his leather pants. Licking and cleaning, sucking, poking his balls through the pouch, kissing, and I began to feel the monster start to grow.

“Watch what this slave is doing, Blaine. Get down there and watch, that’s an order,” Beryl barked. Blaine got down with a big grin on his face and watched. He asked if I minded if he joined me. I put my arm around him, and he put his around me. He took one side of Big Beryl’s leather pouch, and I took the other. I thought the old man was going to drop his load. “Jim, call these suckers off, I’m about to come, and I wanna’ save it for my slave’s butt,” he cried.

Master Jim snapped his fingers at both of us. Blaine and I started laughing and hugged each other. Beryl shook his big finger at me. “Beau, you’re asking for it, Son,” he said laughing. “You’re gonna’ feel the sting of my whip yet,” he threatened.

I looked at Blaine, winked, and said to Blaine, loud enough for all to hear, "God, Blaine, what does it take?” I asked. Everyone laughed.

“Come on guys, mail run,” Big Beryl announced, “Blaine you got that extra pad for Beau?” he asked.

“Yeah, Dad, I’ll get it,” Blaine replied, left, and returned in a minute with two thick, dark green foam pads about eight inches wide and about a foot long. “When you sit on Master Jim’s cock there will be a considerable difference in seat heights, and you’ll end up a little lower on the gas tank. This is a new, space age, highly reactive foam we found one day in a surplus store in Nevada. Once you get on his cock, slip this under you and it will raise you to the perfect fuck position. The foam is so resilient it will give you a great spring return to give your master a really good ride. Shall we?” Blaine asked. We headed for the bikes.

“I’m gonna’ ride to the gate with you, but I need to take off and get on home,” Breed said. We said our goodbyes to him. He hugged me and gave me his address and phone number. “Beau, would it be wrong of me to ask you to promise me you’ll let me see you again? Not for sex. I truly need to see you again to let you know I love and appreciate you. You four are the only family I got. I’ve sealed myself off from people to avoid hurt and hurting them. I can’t do that no more. I need you four to start again. I know you have a wonderful master, and may have another, but whoever you end up with, the both of you are always welcome in my home. Thank you for sharing yourself with me, then, and now,” he said.

“I promise, Jimmy, you ain’t seen the last of me,” I said and I kissed him.

“Blaine can I have a rain check?” he asked.

“You got a freebie coming, Breed. Some afternoon on your way home from work. Give a call, and I’ll be ready for you. I'll look forward to it,” Blaine replied.

“Well, Little Beaver, this gives the term ‘mount up’ new dimensions,” said Master Beryl enjoying his own joke.

I unsnapped my ass patch and knelt by the side of my Master’s Harley. I used my mouth to make love to his cod piece and suck on it, chased his balls around, and cleaned it good. “Okay slave, you may remove it,” he said. I took a corner in my teeth and pulled it away from his pants. I carefully folded it and put it in my pocket along with my ass cover. I straddled the bike in front of my master. He was holding Babe who smiled to see my hole. Babe wanted in me bad, and I didn’t keep him waiting. I sat on him hard to the base. I’ve had some dick in my day, but I swear, God made Babe for my ass. I raised slightly and ask master if he would slip the fuck’n pad under me. He did, and I sat back down. It was springy, and I gave a few bounces to test it.

“How’s that feel to you, Master?” I asked.

“Like it ain’t gonna’ take much to get Babe to spit up your butt,” he said.

“Feels pretty damn good to me, too,” I allowed.

“You ready for your first master, Harley-cock ride, Slave?” Big Beryl asked teasing me.

“It’s like a dream come true, Master. Crank up the beast.” I said.

Master Jim started the big bike. It sputtered, farted, and belched to life. We started off behind Beryl, Blaine, and Breed. Blaine was sitting on Beryl’s cock. Master Jim put his big boots on the forward pegs, and I put mine on the lower side pegs. We no sooner started out than the fucking began. It wasn't as bad as I thought it might be except every now and then we hit a big rock or bump it would raise me off Babe and gravity would slam me back to the base. It wasn’t uncomfortable as the super springy foam acted like a shock absorber for my ass; however, it would bounce me up and down on Babe to give it a good fucking feeling. This had to be the most perverted, wonderful, delightfully decadent, fuck, I ever received, and it was starting to feel pretty damn good. I hollered back to Master Jim, “Is this feeling as good to you as it is for me?” I asked.

“Oh, Hell, yes,” he replied, “I don’t know if I’m gonna’ make it to the damn mail box.”

“May I come if I can’t hold it, Master?” I asked.

“Of course, Slave, you’re on holiday, but try'n think about your old man. It always feels better to him when he can feel your little ass muscle trying to bite his dick off when you shoot,” he said.

“I won’t shoot until you tell me too, Master. Oh shit, Master, you missed a bump,” I said. He started laughing and started me laughing.

“Now cut that out, Slave, I gotta’ ride this monster for both of us,” he admonished me.

“Seems like I’m doing the same thing, Master,” I said.

Big Jim started laughing again and swore he was gonna’ tell Beryl to get his whip out when we got back. I could tell the way Babe felt inside me he was having one Hell of a ride. We finally got to the gate. I don’t know how, ‘cause I almost came three times. I know Master was gritting his teeth. Somehow, I think he wanted to save it for the return ride. Breed got off his bike to open the gate for himself to ride through. Master Jim and Beryl turned their bikes around to head back as Breed pulled through the Gate. Beryl hollered for him to leave it unlocked, and no sooner said it, than eighteen Harleys slowed to pull into the gate. Breed waved and opened the gate for them. They pulled up to us and had big shit-eating grins on their faces.

“Take'n the slave boys for a little Sunday afternoon Harley cock-ride, Guys?” They asked with a grin.

Master Jim wasn’t the least embarrassed and put his big hands under my butt to raise me a little so they could get a good look. “Woah, shit, boys, looks like an E-ticket ride to me,” one said. They laughed like crazy and headed off up the road.

Beryl pulled along side Big Jim. “What timing,” he said and laughed.

“Beryl, old Friend, I’ve had it with this slave. He was so bad riding down here I couldn’t stop laughing. His little ass really needs to taste your whip,” Master Jim said.

“Well, I’ll have to see for myself just how bad he is to gage the amount to give him. I’ll have to take him for a short ride,” he allowed.

“Fine with me. You’ll see,” my master said.

They both laughed. About halfway back we hit a big bump, and it triggered my master’s come switch. I felt Babe start to swell, and I started making serious love to him with my ass. I felt his flow began. We hit another bump that slammed me back so hard on Babe I shot three times. The giant filled me as I emptied into my cod piece. We pulled up in front of the house. The other bikers parked and got off their bikes. They had beers in their hands, walked over to us, started hugging me and Big Jim like it was nothing unusual we were hooked together. Some were straight, some were gay; they didn’t give a shit. They’d seen it before.

“Don’t be shy. Just be my slave, and do what we ordinarily do. You pull off, clean my cock, and replace my cod piece. Then I think you have another ride coming,” Master Jim said quietly. I raised slowly and heard the whistles and the cat calls as I pulled off Master Jim’s huge cock. I thought I’d show them I wasn’t ashamed to ride my master’s cock and rode him the length several times slamming my ass back against him. He grabbed me around my waist knowing what I was up to, and whispered as he kissed me behind the ear, “I love you, Beau, and I trust you to be my slave; any good master could,” he said. I reluctantly pulled off, and hit the ground on my knees. I loving cleaned Babe to more whistles and cat calls, but not without some admiration.

“Got chore’self a damn nice looking slave, there, Big Jim. Any man here ‘ud be proud to ride that fine ass on his Harley,” a good looking biker said. Cheers went up. Master Jim got off his bike and walked me over to Big Beryl’s Bike.

Blaine went into the house to play host to the bikers, and the ones that wanted to play master lined up to be received by him.

“I’m turning you over to Master Beryl, Slave. He wants to give you a ride,” Big Jim said.

“Thank you, Master,” I said and winked at Big Jim.

“Make me proud, Son,” he said quietly.

“I will, sir, I promise,” I said.

I was already standing on the running pegs of Beryl’s bike. His monster was poised at my back door. I noticed all eyes were on my ass, and I was gonna’ show ‘em how a real slave took a master’s cock. I reached back with both hands, spread my cheeks, and sank to the base of Big Beryl’s cock. Beryl threw his arms around me tight and kissed me on the neck.

“Woah, proud a’ you, boy. That was one Hell of a mount. Listen to them som’ bitches,” he said.

The bikers were applauding, whistling, stomping their boots, and yelling. “Good Boy! Well done, Slave! I’m next!”

“Let’s get the Hell out a’ here, Slave. Hang on,” the big man growled. He gunned his bike and we took off in a different direction than the road to the mail box. “There’s a shared road down by the creek bed what’s partially paved. We’ll ride down there. How do I feel up there, Son?” he asked.

“Like I’m pregnant with a sea-monster’s baby,” I replied.

“Jim was right, you’re bad today,” he said and exploded with laughter.

Big Beryl’s bike had more rake to it than Big Jim’s. My giant’s was pretty stock. Beryl had extensions and ape hangers that allowed him to lie back at almost a forty-five degree angle. He threw his big boots up on the front pegs and leaned back. He put one big arm around me, pulled me back to him, and held me. Damn, it was hot. Lying back on a huge man's chest, his big hairy arm holding me tight, his more than ample cock way up my ass, riding his big bike, all the while getting the fucking of my young life. 'Don’t get no better’n this, Beau,' I told myself.

“Did you shoot in Blaine?” I asked.

“Oh, yeah,” he replied then added, “Don’t chu’ worry none, pretty slave, Daddy Beryl saved a couple a' quarts for you,” he said.

“You know what, Dad?” I asked.

“What, pretty slave?” he asked in return.

“I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I love you, old man,” I said above the roar of the Harley. He held me tighter and shoved his cock in a little deeper; a little tighter.

“You don’t think this old man loves you?” he asked.

“I’d break my heart if you didn’t,” I replied.

“Your heart won’t get broken by this old man. Now, shut up and enjoy the fuck’n ride,” he growled.

“Yes, Master Beryl, thank you, sir,” I said and grinned. God, I love a man who takes control.

I don’t know how long we rode, but the road was more bumpy than the ride to the mail box. I was getting my ass fucked good, again. I could tell the way Big Beryl was breathing it was pretty damn good for him, too. We came to a paved road, Master Beryl pulled onto it, and took off like a bat out of Hell. It was smooth compared to the dirt road. Pretty soon we came to another dirt road. He turned onto it and about a half mile down the road came upon an old abandoned barn. Big Beryl pulled into it and stopped his engine. We lay there together, and he put both big arms around me.

“Damn, your little ass feels hot and you got me all the way in there, Son, on the first mount. Seems a shame to waste it. Throw your arms up there over the handlebars and lean over on the gas tank,” he ordered.

I did as the big man ordered. I felt him stand and put his feet to the ground on either side of his bike. He was right at the best height for fucking my ass from behind. He pulled almost all the way out and then slammed his dick back into my ass hard. Damn, his huge cock filled me up. Then he slowly pulled completely out of my ass and commanded me to keep leaning over the bike’s handle bars. He reached around behind him and into his black leather saddle bags and retrieved my butt plug. He didn’t speak to me as he gently but firmly began to insert it up my ass. It didn’t take him anytime until I felt it pop in.

“Push back, Slave,” he ordered. I complied as he seated my plug deep within me. It felt good, like a comfortable old friend. “I wanted to make sure you hold yore' master’s come in your ass and don't lose none of it while I whip you ass. Sometimes a slave loses control. If you got a nice big plug to suck on, it won’t happen. ‘Sides, it sort of makes a nice bull’s eye for your master. Don’t want your master’s good hot come dribble’n out your slave hole. I wanna’ add mine to his after I set you ass on fire. Nothing like fuck’n a freshly whipped slave’s ass," he said with a heavy sigh.

Big Beryl hooked my leash to my collar and led me to the center of the barn. There was a pulley contraption dead center of the barn that was on an overhead rail. It ran from one end to the other. He pulled the heavy rope down and began to tie my wrist without saying a word. He didn’t have to say anything, I knew what he was going to do and couldn’t wait. Was I growing more perverted? I was actually looking forward to it. Easy, Beau, you love the old man, he loves you. He wants to give you this as much as you need and want it from him. Relax, and go with it.

“Master Beryl, please, before you pull me up...”

“What, Slave?” he asked.

I fell to my knees and kissed each of his boots. I was ready. “Thank you, Master,” I said.

“We’re both gonna’ enjoy this, boy. Then I’m gonna’ fuck you ‘til you speak in tongues,” he growled like a big bear.

“Thank you, Master, your slave needs it,” I said.

“I could sense it way down deep. Master Beryl’s gonna’ send you home with an easy heart knowing there are two men in the desert who love you, and if need be, you can run to for sanctuary,” he said like it was the most natural thing.

There was no doubt in my mind of his sincerity. I said no more but tears were forming in my eyes at his sentiment. The old man was a bit choked up himself as he raised my hands with the pulley to where I could barely stand on tip toes. He got more rope out of his saddle bags and tied a three foot piece of dowel he found in the barn to separate my feet. He staked each end of the dowel to the dirt floor so I couldn’t twist about. When he was satisfied he went to his saddle bags and got out an eighteen foot latigo black snake, bull whip. He cracked it a few times for effect and came to me. He was no amateur with a whip. He could make it sound like a rifle shot. “Now, Son, you really ain’t been, bad, bad. You know that. Do you want a mouth plug?” he asked.

“Naw, sir, I couldn’t count for you, Master,” I replied.

“Good enough! Believe it or not, I’ve come to look upon this as a form of bonding and love shared between two men, a Master and his slave. Only one other man has tasted my whip and you know who. You’ll be number two. Welcome to the family, Slave-boy,” he said.

He wasted no time as he undid my leather pants and pulled them down to expose my ass. He moved behind me and I heard the crack of his whip one more time and knew the next one was for me. It hit with a sting I can’t describe that sent me forward. I corrected myself and raised my ass for him.

“One, sir! Thank you, Master!” I yelled.

CRACK! “Two, sir! Thank you, Master!”

CRACK! “Three, sir! Thank you, Master!”

CRACK! “Four, sir! Thank you Master!”

CRACK! “Five, sir! Thank you, Master!” he walked to me to examine his handiwork and rubbed my fire-hot ass with his huge paw. He grabbed me around the waist, pulled my ass up, kissed each red welt and licked it with his tongue. “Please, Master Beryl, Dad, don’t stop now. I know a good slave ain’t suppose to beg. Forgive me Master for begging for more,” I said humbly.

“Shhuuu...” he calmed me as he ran his big hands over my back side. He put his free arm around my waist and pull me tight against the cool, sensual feeling of his leather pants. I could feel his engorged cod piece in the crack of my ass and pushed my starving plugged hole suggestively against it.

“Steady, Slave, you’ll get all of me in good time, but only as a reward,” he said. He came to my front, held the back of my head in his huge paw and kissed me tenderly. “Beau, my good Slave, we need you in our lives, Blaine and me. We’re going to bid on you. Not to piss Earl off, but to have one full weekend with you. Now, don’t fret, Slave, you have some more coming from Dad Beryl. He’s gonna’ take good care of you. I’d kill the son of a bitch who ever truly hurt you,” he said firmly. I believed him. He returned to his position.

CRACK! “Six, sir! Oh, God! Thank you, Master Beryl! Thank you!”

CRACK! “Seven, sir! Thank you, Master Beryl!” What was happening to me? They weren’t painful any more. I couldn’t wait for the next one.

CRACK! “Eight, sir! Thank you, Master! That was better!” (It was harder.)

CRACK! “Nine, sir! Thank you, Master! Master, hold! One more and I’ll come.”

CRACK! I shot six feet into the air, as the second wave shot four feet, and I yelled at him, “One more! Please, Master! Harder!” I yelled.

CRACK! “Oh, God! Oh! Oh! Sweet Jesus!” I shot the last one three feet into the air.

He came to me in a second, kissing me and crying, tears running down his big handsome face. I didn't cry until then, and I let out all the emotion of the weekend on this big wonderful man as he gently lowered me into his waiting arms from my rite of passage; arms that loved me, that would guard me against the three headed dog at the gates of Hell. We cried together with him holding me and soothing me. I looked him in the eye. “Did I please you, Dad?” I asked.

“You have to ask?” he asked in reply looking down at his rock hard monster. It looked like a damn sea monster. Cecil, the sea sick sea serpent. You had to be a child of the fifty’s. ‘Time for Beany.’ Hated it! Loved Cecil.

“Take me, Dad, on the Harley, before my ass cools,” I begged him.

“Sounds good to me, think you can take it all?” he asked and grinned.

“You wouldn’t cheat me, Dad. You know damn well I can take it all, as hard as you can give it to me,” I bragged. He undid my feet and I pulled up my leather pants.   He led me to the bike and laid me back on the seat raised my boots to his shoulders and positioned himself. He quickly removed my plug and put it away in his saddle bags. “I’ll be gentle, Son,” he said.

“Please, Dad, remember what my Master told you?” I asked.

“You’re trained that way. Take a deep breath, Son,” he said. I took a deep breath, and he was in me. I felt no pain, no spasms, just full. I expected the damn thing to stick out my mouth. That old man fucked me ‘til I thought I was going to start babbling in tongues. Man, what a fuck. He didn’t spare the hard ride either. He had an open invitation, and he came to the party ready to ride. He was an expert at riding a Harley and he was just as accomplished at riding a slave-boy’s ass. Every time I felt him about to climb the hill I stopped him. “Not yet, Master! Oh, God, not yet! Please, fuck me some more,” I begged.

He would smile, nod, shake his head and start building up again. After about the third time he yelled to me he couldn’t hold back anymore. I was about to collect him. “May I get mine, Master?” I asked.

“Get it now, Slave, so I can feel that little ass try'n to bite my cock off,” he growled at me like an old bear.

I shot. He fucked harder. I shot again. He fucked me harder. I shot the last bit left in me. He was on his way home. “Master, give this slave what he needs; your good, sweet, man juice; your seed deep inside my slave butt. Arrgg!" He peaked and shot deep into my ass, deeper that any man ever shot into me before. Master Beryl was so far up my ass I was sure I could feel the large head of his sea-monster tickle my tonsils and made them sing out Hosanna, as he unloaded his last batch of baby-batter for the day. Then the old man gently lay on top of me and held me. Still impaled on Cecil, I put my arms around him and held him close. “Thank you, Dad. Thank you for that good fucking. God, I love you and Blaine, Dad. Thank you for the perfect ending to a wonderful day. It was a great climax on so many levels.” I waited for a reply and felt wet on my chest. The old man was crying softly against me. I said nothing more. I just petted him and kissed his head. We lay that way for sometime enjoying being locked together. Finally he raised up, turned his head to me and kissed me long and deep. I never wanted him to withdraw.

I would have worn him everywhere as an older conjoined twin brother who was joined to me through my butt with his fourteen inch cock attached to my soul. Doctors say separation would kill the younger twin. It damn near did. Talk about postpartum depression. I cleaned Master Beryl and cleaned out my cod piece with paper towels he carried in his saddle bags. We were ready to go back. I knew as long as I lived I would treasure that afternoon with this old man. I put my head on his big chest and thanked him for every thing. He put his big arms around me. “Son, I’ve heard about the wonderful Beau James for a number of years. I thought, ‘Yeah, yeah, so he’s Blaine’s hero. We all need heroes. Well, you have another believer in your pocket. Now, you’re more than just a hero, you’re family,” Master Beryl said.

“That’s all I ever wanted, Dad,” I replied.

“Several men call me 'dad' but you and Blaine are two of only three men who have the right. The other is the cowboy in Tucson. He's one of my boys,” he said.

“Thanks, Dad,” I replied.

“You’ve more than earned it, Son, now, let’s get back. They should be a rowdy bunch by now. Just follow my lead, and I’ll tell you what to do,” he said.

We got back on his bike. I was going to get behind and he motioned for me to get in front where I was and had my foam pad for me to sit on; no cock up my butt, just my butt plug to hold my good Masters’ come in me. We rode back with him holding me against his huge chest. I was in heaven. The sun was low in the afternoon sky and the critters were coming to the road for warmth. A coyote, quail of several varieties, a road runner, snakes, coming for the warmth held by the black top. The rocks and colors of the desert this time of afternoon are a treasure to behold.

Anyone who has ever lived in the desert becomes addicted to the silence, the space, voices on the wind – there did you see it, one falling most star to disappear – the feeling that the soul goes on forever because the desert seems to go on forever. As hot as the desert gets there are moments when it can reveal its secrets to you; like two days after a huge spring rain. The desert floor blooms with a riot of colors no artist could ever capture, and goes on and on as far as the eye can see. Life teems in small pools within rocks that breed, live, and die within days. Nature’s promise of new life, of hope for the future, for whatever reason we are here, one of those reasons must be love. To give it, to receive it, to share it. All around you it screams at you, 'It is meet and right so to do. Whatever form it takes, love is love. What man may deny it, is himself, not a man. I was drunk with love. If sex be the fruit of love, fuck on. Grow and eat more fruit.

Cirrus clouds expanded my mind as I lay against giant number two being rocked gently by the motion and vibration of his huge machine. His one enormous arm holding me tight against his massive chest. Once again I told myself, 'It don’t get much better’n this, Beau.' I could feel his goodness holding me, surrounding me, washing over me, bathing me in a baptism of mutual bonding, a quiet peace, a sense of devotion, and of love. A thought came to my mind: Is it possible, the hugest whole of all creation may be less incalculable than a single kiss? Pacem in terris, goodwill toward men.

End Chapter 12 ~ The Ties That Bind
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05/29/2015