TLH_05

TEXAS LONGHORNS
By Waddie Greywolf

Chapter 5

I met and was around Dwayne’s step-dad, Colonel Dunbar, many times while visiting my buddy and helping with his chores. He was approximately six-four, two-hundred and twenty pounds of no nonsense, tight-ass Marine. His sandy blond hair was cut in the usual tight Marine crew with sidewalls that were beginning to show some silver at his temples. He had piercing steel-gray eyes that were quick to flash if he was annoyed or about to bark out another of his many orders. His head was large with a hard masculine face with a square jaw that left little doubt the line of work the man was in. He was your above average looking, typical jar-head Marine.

Colonel Jar-head, as I referred to him behind his back, was loud, abrupt, rude, arrogant, controlling, deceitful, opinionated, prideful, conceited, vainglorious, and mean spirited. Let’s see, did I leave anything out? Nope, I think that pretty well sums him up. Other than those few minor character flaws, he was a lovely man. He left no doubt in my mind he considered himself far more intelligent than he really was. My dad always told me not only to listen to what a man tells you, but also pay attention to how he tells you. The stupid will always let you know they’re stupid. My wicked old man referred to him as Colonel Klink, the Ji-reen. Dad told me 'jireen' was the sound shit makes when it hits the fan. My old man could be wickedly funny at times. I especially loved that part of him.

Colonel Dunbar kept his body in top physical condition by doing morning exercises with the recruits on the base. He felt he should be able to perform as well or better than his grunts. The man had definition where I could only imagine. He could lay flat on his back, place a quarter on his stomach and cause it flip over using only his ab muscles to make it travel up and down. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out he had muscles in his prick. Dwayne swore he did. He said it was one very large, fat muscle. I was sure what Colonel Jar-head had between his ears was little more than muscle, the smallest, most undeveloped muscle on his body.

While I thought he was a physically hot attractive man there was something about him that always made me want to watch him out of the corner of my eye. His gung-ho, hard charging, relentlessly controlling attitude made me nervous to be around him for any length of time. He may have had his own unique appeal, and granted he was an imposing fine looking figure of a man, but he couldn’t hold a candle to my cowboy dad,‘The Sex Machine.’ I would catch the Colonel checking me out like I was a prize piece of livestock he’d like to own. I laughed to myself and though, ‘My old man would snuff you out like a candle in a hurricane if you ever so much as touched me, you pompous clown.’

The Colonel talked with me more than he did Dwayne. I placated him and said 'yes, sir' a lot. His only words for Dwayne were to berate him, demean him, or bark orders at him. It was obvious to me he cared little for his step-son or his step-son’s feelings. Dwayne was just a necessary nuisance to him so he could control Dwayne’s mom. He told everyone he owned the ranch they were living on. As community property laws go, perhaps he did. It was none of my business. I wondered why he would even bother to tell me such a thing. It was sort of insulting in a way. He must have thought I was so stupid I didn't know better? According to my dad, Dwayne's mom owned the ranch.

* * * * * * *
I lay there holding Dwayne in my arms, but I didn’t try to stop him from crying. Dad taught me the best thing to do is let someone get it out, but be there for them. I was kissing around on him, petting him gently, and telling him everything was going to be all right, not to be afraid. I assured him nothing was going to change between him and me. He was still my best bud and would be as long as he needed me.

He finally came around. “You don’t hate me, Case?” he asked.

“Hate you? What a silly question. Why, the Hell, would I hate you? On the contrary, I love you, Dwayne. You’re my brother. I’ve loved you for years. If you think I’m gonna’ stop loving you just because of this revelation, you must not have a very high opinion of your brother. Ya’ just don’t turn love off and on like a light switch, Dwayne. It don’t work that way; leastwise, it don’t with me. I guess I just ain’t never told you I love you before because I assumed you knew. Perhaps we shouldn’t take those things for granted. That’s probably my fault, but right now, you don’t see anyone else around here I be call’n my brother do ya’? Huh?” I chuckled.

“I love you, too, Case, but I know you could never love me the way I love you,” Dwayne lamented.

“What da' ya' mean? Like a lousy cocksucker? I wouldn’t bet the ranch on that, if’n I was you, Hoss,” I laughed and stole another kiss.

“Ah, c'moan, Case, not you, you’s straight arrow. I heard me some talk. You and I never talked about sex because I knew you were straight. Didn’t make me no never mind, I knew you were my buddy, and that’s all I needed, Case, honest. I would never ask for more’n ‘nat, I promise.”

“I know you wouldn’t, Dwayne, I believe you. I don’t think you would ever ask for more'n a person was willing to offer. That’s just the way you are, but ask yourself a question, Brother. Would I be hold’n you like this; would you be feel’n my hard cock, the old longhorn, sticking you in yore’ belly if’n I was totally straight? I felt yours against me a while ago and laughed to myself ‘cause my buddy was sooo busted,” I said and laughed. Dwayne chuckled. I lay there with Dwayne for sometime until I heard dad and Mr. Winchester’s boots coming up the stairs. Somehow, to hear the big clomping sound of Spencer Winchester's cowboy boots on the stairs was a comfort to my soul at that moment.

I heard dad call to me softly, “Casey, Son, may we come in?”

“Is it all right, Brother? They’re good men. They care about you, and believe me, they already know. Dad and Mr. Winchester told me what they thought was probably going on with you, but for your sake I didn’t wanna’ believe them.”

“If you think it’s all right, Case,” he said sheepishly.

“C'moan, Dad, Mr. Winchester.”

The two men came into the room and sat on either side of the bed. “Don’t feel bad, Son. You got friends who love you. Why ain’t you come to us with this, Dwayne?” my dad asked shaking his head.

“The boy was afraid, ashamed, and embarrassed, Vince. You know how it is,” Mr. Winchester answered dad’s question.

“He’s right, Dwayne, I do know how it is, and I apologize, Son. It’s just I meant, maybe we could’ve been doing something to help you. Let me ask you a serious question, Son, and don’t be afraid to answer honestly. No one here’s gonna’ think worse of you one way or another. Do you enjoy sex with your step-dad?”

“I didn’t at first, Mr. Longhorn, but lately, once I relax and just give into him, I found I enjoy it a lot. I think he knows it, too, and he takes advantage of it. He always waits until mom is gone for sometime, maybe overnight, like tonight. I thought I wouldn’t have to suck him off or get fucked tonight if’n I was to spend the night with you and Casey.”

“So, when we take you home, you’ll fix dinner for him, and he’ll force you to have sex with him, is that right?” Spence asked him.

“Yes, sir. He always takes me to the barn. He makes me do it then calls me queer, faggot, and cocksucker while I’m sucking him or he’s fucking me. I just turn my brain off and try to get him off as quick as possible so’s he’ll let me clean him up, I can take a shower, and go to bed.”

“Do you think he’s doing this because he thinks you want it from him or he thinks this is his way of showing you his love?” Mr. Winchester asked.

“Naw, sir. Ain’t no love to it. He’s doing it ‘cause he hates my dad. It’s his way of git’n back at him and my mom.”

“I don’t understand, Son,” Dad said. Mr. Winchester looked puzzled.

“My daddy’s a cowboy like you and Casey, Mr. Longhorn. He reminds me so much of you and Case. He’s even got eyes same color as Casey’s ‘cept’n they ain’t so dark. That’s why I like being around the two of you so much, and you too, Mr. Winchester. Our ranch used to be my dad’s. He inherited some money from his family and bought it. He owned it outright when he met and married my mother. My mom threw him out and divorced him, ‘cause she caught him letting one of our ranch hands give him a blow job. He weren’t doing nothing but letting the guy suck him off. She got all jacked out a’ shape, demanded everything in the divorce settlement and sole custody of me claiming my dad was a homosexual pervert. He weren't even allowed visitation rights, sir. I caught her opening a letter he sent to me. She took the money out, put it in her pocket, and tore up the rest. I took it out of the trash and carefully pieced it back together. The letter and money was for me, Mr. Longhorn. That hurt me a lot. I'm sure he's sent me more letters, but I don't never get to see 'em. I ain’t seen my dad very often since I was six or seven years old. I’ve sneaked off a couple of times, got on a bus, and gone to see him in a few rodeos what were in towns close by. I get to see him for a day or so, maybe twice a year.”

“But, why does your step-dad hate your dad, Son?” Mr. Winchester asked.

“‘Cause he knows my mom still loves my dad even though she claims to hate him, and the Colonel, well, he just ain’t man enough to fill my daddy’s boots, and he knows it. He demanded I call him dad, but I refused. That made him real angry. I call him Colonel Dunbar or sir. He knows I still love my dad, and he can’t stand it. He’s got it in his head my dad’s a faggot, and I think it’s his way of working out his own repressed homosexual feelings. I don’t think he’d still be in the Marine Corps if he weren’t. I ain’t say’n ever’ long term career man in the Marines is a closeted homo, Mr. Winchester, but my step-dad sure the Hell is. Ever’ damn time he forces sex on me he tells me my dad is a no good, lousy Goddamn cocksucker. I’m the son of a cocksucker so I must be one, too. He tells me he’s gonna’ make me into a man’s man. Someone whose only purpose in life is to serve other men’s sexual needs. The worst part is, I think I’ve gotten to where I like him calling me names and abusing me.”

“Have you told your mom what he’s doing?” asked Spencer.

“He told me if’n I told, he’d beat the crap out of her. I can’t take that chance, Mr. Winchester. Whatever she’s done to me or my dad, she’s still my mom, and I love her.”

“That’s understandable, Son. Have you ever tried just telling him ‘no’ you won’t do it no more?” My dad asked him.

“Yes, sir, a couple of times. I’ve even tried to fight him, but he’s as strong as a bull, Mr. Longhorn. He just gets me in an arm lock and makes be do what he says. He ties me to the rafters in our barn, takes his bull-whip to me, won’t let me down until he hears me call him dad, begging him to let me suck his dick, or begging him to fuck me if that’s what he wants that night. Sucking him off or getting fucked by his big ole dick’s a Hell of a lot better’n getting my ass shredded with a bull-whip, sir.”

“I agree with you, Dwayne,” my dad said softly shaking his head. He paused for a moment, then asked Dwayne a pointed question. “Do you want out, Son?”

“I don’t know, Mr. Longhorn, I just don’t know. I’m so damn confused. I know it sounds crazy. Something tells me to run away and another part of me pulls me back. I don’t know what to do. How can you hate someone and want them at the same time? I know what he’s doing to me is wrong, but how can I walk away when I’m beginning to really like it with him? I know that sounds sick, but you asked me to be honest with you, and I am. It’s gotten to where I think he enjoys sex with me more’n my mom.”

“No, Son, you don’t sound sick to us. We understand what you’re going through, but ultimately, only you can answer those questions for yourself,” Mr. Winchester answered. “None of us are going to condemn you one way or the other. We won’t try to make up your mind for you, but we will listen and try to help you understand what’s happening. Sometimes, it puts things in perspective and you can see things a bit more clearly when you hear yourself talk about it with someone who cares about you and won’t judge you. C’moan, Son, Mrs. Winchester and I will drop you off on our way home. Think about what we talked about. If you need to talk or want our help all you have to do is ask.”

“Thanks, Mr. Winchester, Mr. Longhorn. I shore’ appreciate your understanding. Now I know my buddy don’t hate me, I don’t feel so alone.”

“You ain’t alone, Dwayne. Don’t never think that. We love you, Boy,” my dad assured him. Dad surprised me with his generosity to my buddy. “Casey thinks on you like you's his brother, and so do I for that matter. You’re always welcome here, Son.”

Dwayne broke down again and I held him close. “My old man’s right about a lot of things, Brother. He sure as Hell nailed that one,” I said and chuckled.

We said our tearful goodbyes and Dwayne left with the Winchesters. He lost it again when my dad took him into his big cowboy arms and held him without saying a word. My old man could communicate more with less words than any man I’ve ever known. Dwayne knew, beyond a doubt, he was loved and welcome in our home, anytime.

* * * * * * *
We didn’t see Dwayne the rest of that weekend. I saw him at school the following Monday, but he didn’t have much to say. I knew he was upset about me finding out about him and his step-dad. He watched me closely to see how I would react to him. I tried to be as supportive and caring as possible without being obsequious. He came to the head in the gym while I was doing my usual noon-time shaving. We were alone. He leaned against the sink next to me. I knew he wanted to talk about Friday night. “You really love me, Case?” he asked quietly.

“I would never tell somebody I love them and not mean it, Bubba. You can cash that check at the bank,” I replied.

Dwayne smiled and looked away. Dwayne was quiet for a good long while as I concentrated on my shaving. Finally, he looked at me and asked quietly, “Would you share love with me sometime?” he asked.

“You mean love or sex?” I asked in reply.

“Both,” he replied without hesitation.

“I can share love with you anytime, Bubba, but not sex; leastwise, not the way you might be think'n; not yet, anyways. I promised my dad I wouldn’t have sex with anyone until I was eighteen. I kept my promise to him so far, and I got three more years to go. I ain’t apologizing for it, but I plan on keep’n my promise to my old man.”

“I understand, Casey. I know you have some pretty strong ideas about that sort of thing. I just thought it was because you was religious or something,” he said.

“I believe there’s a higher purpose in the universe, but I’m hardly what you’d call religious. I believe in what the bible says about love, being good to folks, doing for others when you can, and respecting my elders. Keeping my promise to my dad is part of loving and respecting him. If I didn’t, I’d lose all respect for myself.”

“Gees, three years? That’s a long time,” Dwayne said.

“We’re only fifteen, Dwayne, but dad ain't never said I couldn’t suck another man’s cock or mutually masturbate with him. I never have. Why would I want to? I get all I need at home,” I tossed off, winked, and gave him a wicked grin.

“Naw, you ain’t tell’n me you and yore’ dad...? That good looking cowboy hunk? No fuck’n way, Case,” he challenged.

“Hell, me’n him, we suck each other off all the time. Sometimes I jack him off; sometimes he jacks me off. Have been ever since my mom died. Ain’t no big deal, bro, I love my old man,” I replied.

“Wait a minute, then what about your promise to him?” Dwayne asked.

“I promised him I wouldn’t fuck or get fucked until I was eighteen. He thinks I shouldn’t do it until I’m old enough to make a mature decision for myself. I just happen to to agree with him. I think he’s right,” I said.

“Then...” Dwayne stopped like he was thinking. I could read his mind. I think I was getting more like my dad every day.

“The answer is ‘yes,’ but I would’ve never considered doing even that with another man until I held you in my arms Friday night. I talked it over with my dad and he agreed. If’n that’s enough for you, Bubba, I’d be downright proud to make a little love with ya,’” I said. Dwayne started crying right there in the restroom of the gym. “Hey, Bubba, h'it ain’t no big thing. Ain't nothing to get all worked up about,” I said, put my hand on his shoulder, and squeezed it.

He smiled at me and pulled himself together. “It is to me, Case,” he said softly.

“It is to me, too, Buddy,” I said looking into his eyes. A look of horror crossed his face. I could read that thought, too, and grinned at him. “Not to worry, Bubba, dad told me we could get the roto-rooter man out to take a look at chore’ throat for ya’ so’s he can open it up for the ‘longhorn.’” I laughed wickedly. Dwayne threw back his head and roared with laughter. It was good to hear my buddy laugh again. He seemed like he was under a dark cloud, but now the sun was beginning to shine through.

“Oh, fuck!" he exclaimed, "Now the pieces are beginning to come together about you. No wonder you ain’t been a sexual hound dog sniff’n around every cunt in school or taking advantage of them what tried to drop it in your lap. You been git’n all you want and need right at home. Damn, Bro, you gotta' be the luckiest man in school.”

“Pert-damn close, Bubba,” I grinned at him as I put my shaving stuff away. “I thank God ever’ day for my old man," I added.

“Won’t your dad get upset about you and me – well – you know?” he asked.

“No, I asked him and he encouraged me. I wouldn’t consider it unless I asked him first. ‘Sides, I have to share him with Mr. Winchester.”

“This is too fuck’n much. No! Y’ain’t tell’n me them too fine men...?” he stopped. I just smiled at him and nodded. “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed, “Well, why not?” he allowed. “Ain’t no two finer men no wheres. Why shouldn’t they deserve to share a little love?” he asked.

“Why, indeed, Brother? I can’t think of any reason why not,” I replied.

“Lord, I love my old man so much, I’d give anything to have something with him like what you got with your dad, Case. You’re dad reminds me of my old man a lot. That’s why I’m always so shy around him. I guess because of my crush on my old man, I’m so damn attracted to your dad I’m afraid he’ll figure it out.”

“Too late, Honcho, you been busted. He done told me a couple of years ago he thought you were attracted to him, but my dad ain’t conceited. He’s just a wise and observant man. Mr. Winchester picked up on it, too. Always remember, we can’t hide much from them two. My dad don’t care, Dwayne. He loves you for who you are, my buddy, and my brother. He even refers to you as my brother when he’s talking about you. He’s the one what got me think’n ‘bout chu’ as ma' bubba.”

“Really, Case?” he asked.

“Yes, really. You gotta’ learn there’s folks who can love you, give to you, and receive graciously from you without costing you your soul. Why, I’d never tie you up and whip yore' ass; less’n, of course, you wanted me to.” I grinned wickedly, pointed my finger at him like it was a gun, fanned the trigger, then smiled as I blew away the imaginary smoke from the barrel. He responded by frogging my arm. It was a good one, too. It smarted.

“Naw, Colonel Jar-head does enough of that, Case. You didn’t see me all weekend, ‘cause my mom didn’t come home from visiting her sister until early this morning. She called and told him she wouldn’t be home ‘til then. He give our hired hands the weekend off and kept me tied up in the barn from Friday night through Sunday evening. Only time he came out was to lead me to the house with a rope around my neck to make him and me something to eat. Then he’d take me back to the barn, whip my ass, have me suck him off or fuck me. It may be exciting when we do it, but it’s Hell being tied up for a couple of days at a time. I asked him why he just couldn’t love me and let me give myself to him instead of taking it from me?”

“What’d he say, Bubba?”

“He launched into another one of his tirades. I don’t know if I can remember all of it. So much shit comes out his mouth, I think he be cheating his asshole out of good healthy dump,” he said. We shared a laugh at Dwayne’s joke. “He told me he weren’t no gay, homo, faggot. He was a man who took sex from others, how and when he wanted it, not when they chose to dole it out to him." Dwayne went on to describe the Colonel’s rant. “I take it from yore’ momma, Boy, and I’m take’n it from you when I want it. I gave you a chance to be my son, my boy, but you rejected my kind offer to treat you like my own. You’re just another piece of dog shit in the cantaloupe patch to me now, Boy; a piece of queer, homo, faggot-meat to use and do with as I please. I feel like using you this weekend ‘cause I ain’t got chore’ momma around to fuck. Gonna’ keep you tied up so’s I don’t haf’ta’ go ‘round looking for ya’ when I want my dick sucked or a piece of faggot butt. Gonna’ treat you like the animal you are; treat you just like them jar-head recruits at Pendleton.

"You realize, Boy, all I gotta’ do is put in a call to my drill instructor buddy, and tell him when I’m arriving for inspection. I give him orders to have a hot recruit waiting for me in his office for me to fuck. He knows I only fuck virgin, jar-head butt. It’s his job to make damn sure he picks a choice one, a ripe one, a really tight one, what ain’t never had no man’s cock up his poop-chute before. He calls for volunteers for a special assignment. My D.I. oversees him cleaning himself out and makes sure he’s squeaky clean. There’ll be Hell to pay if Colonel Dunbar pulls his fine prick out of a recruit’s ass and there’s grunt shit on it.

"The D.I. is personally responsible for greasing up the chosen recruit’s shit chute. He instructs him how to bend over his desk with his hands on his butt spreading his pretty cheeks to expose his pink little rosebud for Colonel Dunbar’s inspection. The D.I. don’t lie to the recruit. He tells him how fortunate he is to be chosen for this assignment, to be fucked by Colonel Dunbar, and he’s ordered to spread his cheeks and put his ass up for as long as the Colonel wishes to butt fuck him. The D.I. tells him to make sure his asshole is just a’ wink’n at the Colonel when he walks in the room. After I walk into the room, I bark at the recruit to make his little hole wink faster to let me know how bad he wants to feel Colonel Dunbar’s big dick shoved into him, and how much of the Colonel’s cock the recruit hopes I will give him to chow down on. The faster and harder he winks his hole, the more of Colonel Dunbar’s sweet dick he’s gonna’ get to feel inside him.

"I take my dick out, walk over to him and shove it home; no introductions, no small talk, no foreplay, nothing. He volunteered for the assignment, he’s nothing more than a piece of jar-head flesh to be used for Colonel Dunbar’s pleasure. It’s an honor for him to give his ass up for a fellow Marine of higher rank. I don’t ask him if he wants it or how he wants it. I don’t give a shit how he wants it or how it feels to him. I take his ass the way I want. He gets it how I wanna’ give it to him. If he likes the way I take him, fine. If he don’t, that’s fine, too. If I feel like fuck’n him nice an easy-like, he gets a sweet, gentle fuck’n. If I fuck him hard and rough, he grits his teeth and takes it like a man.

"In fact, I’d rather he didn’t like it. That kind always makes the best fucks after you first hurt ‘em a little. Just like you, Boy, they become so surprised how good the Colonel starts to feel up there root’n around in their lower forty. They open up to me like a bloom’n fly’er. Just like you do, Boy, after riding my dick for a few minutes. You remember how good my big fuck-stick feels deep inside your faggot hole, don’t cha,’ Boy? Yeah, Cocksucker, I know you do. Can’t get enough of the Colonel’s big dick, can ya’ boy? That’s when I know I’ve got ‘em, when they start fuck’n me back, Boy; just like you start fuck’n back and ride’n my horse dick with your tight little ass. Feels good to ya,’ don’t it Boy? Ain’t nobody ever gonna’ make you feel as good as the Colonel. He knows how to take care of a faggot boy’s ass; makes you feel like you’s caught sight of them pearly gates when he’s take’n it away from you, don’t he, Boy? Yeah, you bet your queer ass, I do.

"They start try’n to get as much of my big cock in ‘em as quickly as they can. They suddenly find out, as much as they may have hated it in the beginning, they can’t get enough of Colonel Dunbar’s big fuck stick. That’s when they realize something a drill instructor can’t teach ‘em, Boy. They learn to give themselves up to a man what knows how to take it from them. They learn the meaning of the word ‘sacrifice’ and ‘duty.’ They learn the meaning of the Corps. After I finish with ‘em and wipe my dick off, he’ll beg me for more. He be just like you, Boy, he’ll fall to my feet and kiss my boots sobbing for the Colonel to take more of his ass. You know why, Boy? YOU KNOW WHY, BOY? ‘Cause he’s a Marine. ‘Cause he’s a man. He knows in his heart the meaning of ‘Semper fi.’ He ain’t some whining, sissy-ass, cocksuck’n faggot, who cries when a man butt fucks him good and proper.

"Only a weak, come drink’n faggot would ask another man for sex. A real man takes what he wants when he wants it. He allows no questions nor grants any requests. The maggot he’s fuck’n is there for only one purpose, his pleasure. You’re lucky, Boy. Since you ain’t man enough to ever join the Corps, I intend to train you to be the best cocksucker you can become. I’m also gonna’ train you to give your butt up to a good man like a three dollar whore. You’ll learn when I snap my fingers you drop to your knees for further instructions. If I snap my fingers again and point to yore’ ass you bend over, take your hands and spread yore’ butt cheeks until your little rosebud is a' wink’n at the man who’s about to mount you. You keep your little hole just a’ wink’n at him until you feel him drive his big prick home, deep into your faggot gut. Then you give him the best ride you possibly can. You never think about how it feels to you or your pleasure; your only purpose is to please him and make damn sure you satisfy him.

"If I snap my fingers and point to a man’s crotch. You better damn well have his penis out within one minute flat, and making serious love to it until he gives you permission to take him. You ram the man’s penis down your throat until your lips contact his pubic hairs. Then you look up at him and wait for him to give you permission to suck him or he grabs your ears and face fucks you. I’ll teach you to get yore’ face fucked as hard as yore’ ass. A good marketable faggot should be able to take a good hard face fuck’n as well as a hard ass pounding.

"In a couple more years you’ll be about ripe for sell’n. I may keep you around for a year or so after high school for further training and my personal use. After I break your spirit completely and re-mold you, get chu’ really trained never to complain or question a command, I can name my price for you, Boy. You’ll be so well trained I can sell you to a man to be his personal servant, sex slave, and you won’t never protest. I’ll be doing your worthless faggot-ass a favor, Boy. You’ll lick my boots in gratitude and thank me for training you so well. By the time I get ready to sell you, you’ll be so well trained your greatest pleasure, your only purpose, will be pleasing your new owner. You’ll lie awake at night thanking me for turning you into a useful tool for some good man. You’ll be so happy with your new life you won’t never consider trying to get away. You’ll resign yourself to spending the rest of your life being owned my another man.

"Of course, I’ll come visit you once in a while to make sure you’re being cooperative and earning the money your owner paid for you. ‘At’s all part of customer service, Boy. I wanna’ make damn sure the man what buys you is satisfied. I may even sell you with an option for further training if your owner wishes you to learn a new trick or two. He can return you to me for further, more in depth, perhaps more exotic training to suit his personal whims. You’ll be a joy to work with then; because, after some time being devoted to your owner, you’ll be eager to learn any new tricks he wants me to teach you so’s I can return you to him and please him.”

“He went on and on, Case, talking crazy shit like that. I can’t tell if it’s a fantasy of his or if he really means it. I’ll tell ya’ one damn thing, if’n he’s doing it to scare me, it worked.”

“My God. That’s unbelievable. Surely he’s jive talk’n you. He’s gotta’ be blow’n smoke up yore’ ass, Honcho. Ain’t no way in this day and age a man can sell another into slavery, servitude, or whatever he wants to call it. There are severe laws against that sort of thing. He could easily end up in the pen if he tried anything that stupid. Damn, man, I think he’s lost it. He’s probably just getting his rocks off and try’n to scare you to death at the same time. His type thrive on fear and self-loathing of young men who are unsure of themselves and their sexual identity. Now here’s the big question, Bubba, how do you feel about what he told you?”

“I don’t really know. I’m so confused. I guess I really am a mess, ‘cause as much as he scares the Hell out a’ me the more his talk turns me on. Just look at me, Case.” Dwayne looked down at his crotch. He was roaring hard from his relating to me what his step-dad told him. He looked down at mine, and I was also hard as a rock. I couldn’t help it. While I thought what his dad told him was sick and twisted, I couldn’t help be aroused by his words. Dwayne continued. “I’m so damn frustrated, Case, I’m about ready to say, ‘Oh, fuck it. Just give into him completely.’ Let him do with me as he will, become what he wants me to be. If he really means it, let him sell me to some man. Maybe he knows what he’s talking about and after he trains me I won’t care about who uses me. I won’t have to care about anything anymore except pleasing the man who owns me.”

“Dwayne, you can see my old longhorn is just as hard as yours. The fantasy of what he told you is hot. It’s sexually stimulating. It’s highly erotic to imagine yourself reduced to a sexual object. Ah, but when the sun comes up in the morning and sheds its harsh light of reality on such a fantasy, it’s like what my daddy done told me about drinking: a sleazy slut can be sit’n at the end of a bar who, by bar-light and with too many drinks, becomes the most beautiful sight you think you ever did see, an oasis, a cool drink of clear water in your sexual desert; however, by morning’s light, when you roll over in bed to look at her, she sits up, begs, barks at you, then starts scratch’n fleas, you realize you probably weren’t drinking in a bar but the local animal shelter.”

“Yeah, I see what chu’ mean. Yore’ dad’s a funny man. I like the way he talks. It’s always...”

“Colorful?” I asked.

“Yeah, that’s it. Damned if he can’t say some, funny, off-the-wall shit,” Dwayne replied. I agreed with him, and we shared a laugh.

“You know what, Bubba? Sounds like you need two things come this evening. First, we need to go by Mr. Winchester’s, call my dad to come over, and tell them what chu' jes' done told me.”

“I’d be ashamed to, Case. They probably already think I’m a nut job.”

“No they don’t. They would never think that about my brother, besides I don’t think you’re thinking too clearly about the possible greater ramifications of his little talk with you. For sake of argument, what if what he says is true? What if he really has plans to sell you into some form of slavery? Stranger things have happened. Not to worry, Mr. Winchester and my dad can clarify some things and give you a better picture of the shit he’s throwing at you. I think he’s damn near about to push you over the edge, past the point of no return with his brainwashing. He’s had years of experience training Marine recruits. They build men, you know? How do you think they do it? By the same techniques he’s using to fuck with your head. He’s been fuck’n with young men’s heads and very probably their bodies for years. You won’t even present a challenge to him. He’ll have you sucked into whatever demented plan he has in mind for you within another week, a month at the most, I guaran-damn-tee ya,’” I said with disgust.

“What’s the second thing you said I be need’n this evening, Case?” Dwayne asked.

“Without a doubt, you need the strongest, best possible defense against a seductive evil such as his,” I said seriously.

“What’d that be, Brother?” he asked.

“Some good, strong, powerful hot, old fashion, down-home, cowboy love’n, Bubba,” I allowed and grinned at him, “H’it’s the only defense against the evils of this world.”

“Know where I can get me some, Case?” Dwayne asked shyly smiling at Casey like a cat who swallowed the mouse who just fucked the canary.

“I jes’ might,” I mused scratching my chin as if deep in thought, “but I have ta’ warn ya,’ Hoss, it be some awesome shit. You’re probably only gonna’ be able to take it in small doses until you build up a tolerance to it; kinda let your body and soul adjust to it some. It can be powerfully addictive. You may find yourself wanting a lot more.”

“When can I take my first dose, Case?” Dwayne asked and grinned.

“Later, at my place, after we talk to my dad and Mr. Winchester, and we do our chores and homework. I’ll ask yore’ mom to let you stay over. She always says ‘yes’ when I ask her right-nice,” I bragged.

“I love you, Case,” Dwayne said.

“No more’n I love you, Bubba,” I replied. Dwayne looked like he wanted to kiss me in the worse way, but I put up my hand. “I know what chore’ think’n, and I would like nothing better myself at the moment, but we better lay down some ground rules for both our sakes. No expressions of affection in public, ever. A look from you is all I need to know how you feel. The same goes for you. You’ll know exactly what I’m feeling at any given moment; you just can’t help it when two men bond with each other.”

“I understand, Case, and I agree. I won’t never give into that temptation.”

“Good. C’moan, Brother, I’ll walk ya’ back. We got study hall together next, anyway.”

* * * * * * *
That evening after we went by Dwayne’s and did his chores, I asked his mother if Dwayne could stay over and go to school with me the next day.

“Well, I don’t know, Casey, he stayed over to your place Friday night,” she said.

“Beggin’ your pardon, Mrs. Dunbar, Dwayne didn’t get to stay the night. His step-dad called and made him come home to fix his dinner. Mr. and Mrs. Winchester dropped him off on their way home. I ain’t seen Dwayne all weekend,” I told her.

“Is that true, Dwayne?” she asked.

“Yes, ma’am,” Dwayne replied looking down at his boots.

“Why didn’t you tell me you didn’t stay at Casey’s Friday night?” she asked.

“I just forgot, Mom. Besides, I didn’t wanna’ cause no trouble. I done what he told me to do, I obeyed him. I’m try’n to do what he wants. I didn’t give him any trouble, Mom. I didn’t talk back to him or nothing. I come home and fixed dinner for him like he ordered me to. I didn’t want him getting mad at me.”

Mrs. Dunbar stood there not moving for several seconds looking at me, then Dwayne with a blank look on her face, like she was puzzled about something, like thoughts were running through her head she didn’t want us to know about. I hoped she was wondering why her husband didn’t say anything to her about calling Dwayne home when she gave him permission to stay the night at our place. I had a feeling Colonel Dunbar would have to answer some questions about rescinding her decision. Good. The self-important, pompous bastard needed a shot fired across his bow.

“Well, all right then,” she said sort of resigned, “you can stay the night at Casey’s.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Dunbar.”

* * * * * * *
I called dad to come pick us up when we finished Dwayne’s chores, and he was just pulling in the drive of the Dunbar’s ranch as we came out of the house. He stopped just long enough to wave to Mrs. Dunbar, for us to jump in the Bronco, and we were off down the long gravel road from their ranch. He got to the blacktop and stopped before he pulled onto the main ranch road. “You men feel like stop’n by the Winchester’s on the way home?” Dad casually asked us.

“I think we need to, Mr. Longhorn. After talking with my brother this afternoon I think I need help, sir,” Dwayne surprised me by speaking up. I was proud of him.

“We done told ju’, Son, all ya’ gotta’ do is ask. Spense and me meant it. So, we’re off to see the wizard,” Dad said as he stepped on the gas. We laughed at dad’s joke, but there was a lot of truth in his humor. We greatly admired Dr. Spencer Winchester. He wasn’t only a doctor, he was a rancher, a devoted husband, a loyal friend, a mentor, and one Hell of a good man.

“Glad you men wanted to stop by the Winchester’s. They called and invited us to dinner, anyway," Dad said.

“Great,” Dwayne and I agreed in unison.

* * * * * * *
We arrived at the Winchester’s, and as always, Mr. Winchester came clomping down the front steps of their house in his big cowboy boots. He had hugs and kisses for everyone. His joy and enthusiasm was infectious. He was like a giant St. Bernard dog without the slobbering. However, I suspected his mouth watered heavily every time his eyes landed on my dad. After dad and I received our hug and kiss, Mr. Winchester opened his arms for Dwayne. Dwayne went to him and started crying in his arms. Dad and I could see, for once, Spencer Winchester was unable to respond. He was overwhelmed and touched by Dwayne’s tears. He just held him all the more tightly. He stole a couple of kisses and petted Dwayne to comfort him.

“Dwayne, I’m so glad you could come with these gentleman this evening. I think we have much to discuss. Am I right, Son?” he asked.

“I need help, Mr. Winchester.”

“We’ll see what we can do, Son. Come. Come inside, Gentlemen, and we’ll talk,” Spence said as he took my dad’s hat and laid it on the hall table.

Donna Winchester came from the kitchen looking lovely and radiant as ever. She was bubbling with affection for us all. She particularly lingered with Dwayne to make him feel as comfortable as we did with the Winchesters. I could see it was taking its toll on Dwayne. He loved being with people who appreciated him and loved him for who he was. Mr. Winchester invited us into his study, but before we turned to go I spoke to Mrs. Winchester.

“Mrs. Winchester, is there anything in the kitchen I can give you a hand with?” I asked.

“Lord, I love ya’ for asking, Casey, but no, I got everything under control. I think you need to be with the men folk this evening,” she replied and waved me on with her dishtowel. We went into Mr. Winchester’s study, he motioned for us to sit down, and told us to make ourselves comfortable. Dad took one of his large leather chairs. Dwayne and I took the couch. Spence poured himself a couple of fingers of Scotch.

“So, Young Man,” Spence addressed Dwayne as he returned the top to the Scotch bottle, “I know you been talking to Casey, but we don’t know how or why you came to your decision you need help. Can you give us some idea?”

“Yes, sir, Mr. Winchester, I...” Dwayne looked at me for help.

“Tell them what chu' done told me this afternoon about chore’ weekend, Bubba. Don’t leave nothing out, ‘cause if you do I’m here to remind you. I got a memory like an elephant,” I said and smiled at Dwayne. He lowered his head like he was about to be led to the gallows.

“I promise, Son, anything you tell us won't leave this room,” my dad said.

“Thanks, Mr. Longhorn. Well...”

Dwayne started in about his weekend being kept tied in the barn the whole time only to be taken to the house to fix his step-dad and himself food. From there he went on to describe the lurid sex scenes his step-dad made him participate in. He related the whole rant his step-dad told him. As he went on I could see my dad and Spence glancing at each other once in a while to gauge the others reaction. At one point my dad couldn’t listen anymore, got up and started pacing the room muttering to himself. “Easy, Vince,” Mr. Winchester spoke to my dad. “Let’s don’t scare the kid to death.”

“Of course, you’re right, Spence. Sorry, Son. Telling us about your step-dad just reminded me of another cold, heartless tyrannical bastard I knew once when I was about your age. Please, go on," he said. Dad regained his composure and was attentive to the rest of what Dwayne was telling us. I swear Spencer Winchester’s face changed like a chameleon from minute to minute. One moment he would be white as a sheet and the next his face would be so red I looked for steam to spout out of his ears. He would look at my dad, shake his head, and a couple of times he would simply turn his chair away from us altogether like he was listening, but he wanted something to shield him from Dwayne’s words.

Finally, Dwayne stopped and just sat there. We looked at him in stunned silence. He looked up at us and asked a simple question. “For all of this I’ve told you, Mr. Winchester, Mr. Longhorn, why don’t I feel more anger?” he asked like a plea.

“You wanna’ take this one, or you want me to, Spence?” Dad asked Mr. Winchester. Spence half smiled, nodded, and with a wave of his hand indicated for my dad to go for it. “Dwayne, Son, you’re only sixteen years old; same’s your brother sitting there next to you. You’re too damn young to have problems and shit like this to handle in your life. I know the two of you are growing up fast, but damn it, you still got a lot of growing up to do yet. This should be the best time of your life for you, and you shouldn’t have to have crap in your life like this right now. You shouldn’t even have to be forced to make a decision about whether to be angry or not. You don’t know whether to be angry? Let Spence and me answer that question for you, Son. Yes, Dwayne, be very angry. Be very, very angry. You got every right to be angry, Son. He’s breaking every goddamn law on the books what protect minors from predatory monsters like him. Angry? Damn straight you should be angry. If you can’t find it in your heart to be angry, let Spence and me be angry for you. Let us be your ombudsmen. I’m glad you came to us with this. We were really worried about you after the other night. The very idea of selling you into sexual slavery. Jesus H. Christ! What is that mental midget think’n about telling you something like that. Whether he’s kidding or not ain’t the point, Son. It’s reprehensible; no, it's unconscionable he even had the gall to tell you such a thing in the first place, and being of a mature age to be a responsible adult, unless he’s a fuck’n madman, which he well may be, I have to take him seriously. To do otherwise, Dwayne, would be inviting disaster. Am I right, Spence?” Dad deferred to Mr. Winchester.

“Listen to him, Dwayne. He comes off as being a good ole boy, a cowboy, a hayseed, a country bumpkin, but the man is far from that. His sense of right and wrong is as good and many times better than any man I’ve ever known. You’re doing fine, Brother,” Spence Winchester said, chuckled, and winked at my dad, “go on, Vince, and when you’re through, I’ve got a few choice words for the boy, myself.”

Dad smiled and continued. “Son, you hear about kids disappearing all the damn time, and they’re never seen or heard from again. So, it ain’t inconceivable he has exactly that in mind for you. To chalk his comments off to scaring you just to manipulate you is utter hogwash. Furthermore, his threat of hurting yore’ mom is pure, unadulterated bullshit. Are you kidding me? Hurt yore’ momma? He’s bluffing to control you. What would it accomplish? He ain’t no fool. He may have a terminal case of the ‘dumbs,’ but I doubt right seriously the man’s stupid. Listen, Son, I’ve know'd your momma and yore’ daddy, Rance, for years. I was your dad’s best man at their wedding. Betcha’ didn’t know that, did ja’? There’s a few other things you don’t know either. I know yore’ momma, oy. The first hand Colonel Jar-head laid on her she’d have his jarhead-ass in jail so goddamn fast he wouldn’t have time to yell, ‘Semper fi,’ and he wouldn’t get out until his walk’n papers was served to him, I guaran-damn-tee ya.’ Slap yore’ momma around and take a chance on kill’n the golden goose what got ‘em that ranch? Ya’ think? I think not.”

I’d never seen my dad worked up into such a fevered pitch. God, was I proud of my old man. He was telling Dwayne exactly the things he needed to hear, how the proverbial old cow ate the cabbage. I think at that moment I began to appreciate my dad for the complete man he was. My boyhood fascination and my adolescent crush on my dad suddenly morphed into a more mature respect, admiration, and love for the man who was my father. He was no longer just my silly ideal of him as a sex machine. All those trappings, fascinations, and major crushes, were stripped away, but fully clothed, he stood there before me, more naked than I ever saw him. I saw him for who he really was, a good man. Mr. Winchester's description nailed my old man to the barn door. Vincent Longhorn, my father, aspired to be nothing more than a brown dirt cowboy, but his sense of right and wrong was faultless.

End Chapter 5 ~ Texas Longhorns
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01/09/2005
09/29/2016