Dēda

My Naked Summer

Chapter I
My Last Days of Freedom

I was fourteen that summer in 1952 when my Dad was invited to a big pharmaceutical convention in a large southeastern city. Since it was early June and school was already out, he decided to take me with him to the convention. He knew that I could entertain myself while he was in the various meetings and, besides, he really had to go and had no one with whom to leave me while he was out of town.

The problem was that he 'fell off the wagon' the first day of the convention and never really got back on again. While I was enjoying the hotel pool and eating at all of the fast food places around the hotel, he kept getting more and more free alcohol. By the time the convention was over on the third day, he was in no position to navigate to the room much less get us to the train in order to go home.

There is some drug that you can give drunks that will help to sober them up. Something with sodium in its name, but after all of these years I forget what it was. Anyway, I decided that I needed help and got the hotel doctor to see him there in the room. After a brief talk with my woozy father, the doctor administered a shot and he drifted off to sleep. Since it was already evening, it wasn't long before I curled up on the other bed and drifted off to sleep myself.

The next morning, I got up early and seeing that my Dad seemed to be still asleep I dressed and went down for breakfast. Upon returning to the room, he was still asleep and I quietly got both of our bags packed so that we could catch the afternoon train home. I guess it was almost eleven in the morning when I figured that I had better wake him and try to get him ready to leave.

When I went to shake him, nothing happened. Then I noticed that his skin had a strange cast to it, that it was almost yellow in color with funny looking blotches. I reached out and touched his arm with the intention of shaking him. It was then that I realized that he was cold to the touch. I remember that a cold chill went up my spine. I had never seen a dead person before, but I was sure that he was dead.

Shaking slightly, I took the hotel elevator back down to the doctor's office on the second floor. I told his receptionist that I needed to see him, that it was an emergency. It wasn't long before I told the doctor my story and what seemed like only minutes before an assistant manager and the doctor went with me to our room. I waited in the hall while they confirmed what I already knew.

Within the hour, the police arrived and conferred with the doctor, examined the body, and decided that he had died of natural causes. (I remember the one time that later in life I saw the death certificate that it read 'acute alcoholism' as the cause of death.)

I was left on a straight chair in the assistant manager's office while the police were in the hotel room examining the body. When a police officer returned with the assistant manager, they stood over to one side of the room and conferred for a minute or two.

The assistant manager appeared to be in his mid forties. He was somewhat overweight with a brown 'comb-over' and a small moustache. I remember that his white shirt and maroon tie had seen better days. The officer was younger, probably around thirty with close cropped military style sandy blond hair. His uniform was sharply pressed with crisp creases in his shirt and pants. He looked fit and was most likely former military. They both shifted their weight uneasily before coming over to where I sat.

They looked at me and then the officer said: "Son, I'm Officer Brown. This is Mr. Moore, the assistant manager of the hotel. I'm sorry but we have to ask you some questions. The man who died, John Barton, he was your father?"

Dry eyed and with no emotion on my face, I looked up at him and said: "Yes, he was."

I guess they were surprised that as a kid I was taking the death of a parent so calmly, but I had seen too much of my father drunk to feel much at this point in my life. What had happened was something that I figured would eventually happen, only just not so soon. At fourteen, I had already mourned my lost childhood and had to be the adult before my time. This was my reality.

(That night when both Brown and Moore told their families about their day, they relayed their surprise that a kid who had just lost his dad, his only living relative, never shed a tear or showed any emotion over the sad events of the day. What that kid had experienced up until that day was something that they could not even imagine, unless they too had suffered through living with a drunk.)

"What's your name, son?" the officer inquired.

"I'm Kyle Barton," I answered.

"The hotel registry says that you are from the St. Louis area. Is that correct?"

"Yes, that's correct."

"Do you have family there that we can notify?"

"No, no one," I replied.

"How old are you anyway?" the officer continued.

"I just turned fourteen," I answered truthfully.

At that point the assistant manager interjected: "Son, do you have the cash or know how your father had planned to pay his bill?"

"No, I don't know how he was planning to pay the bill. I only have a few dollars left from what he gave me to buy meals while he was at the convention," I responded.

The assistant manager looked somewhat pale and turned to the officer and said: "I'm going to need to speak with the manager about this. We won't be able to write this off."

Officer Brown looked somewhat disgusted and said to him "I'm sure that we can work something out with Judge Thornton in order to settle this."

Chapter II
An Opportunity To Pay The Debt

Turning back to me, Officer Brown said: "Son, we need to meet with Judge Thornton about you as well as your father's debt and how we are going to handle things concerning you and his remains. Steve Thornton is the County Judge here in this county. Why don't you come with me? Have you eaten? We can get you something to eat on the way to the court house."

Only then did I realize that I was famished as it was by now after one in the afternoon and I had had nothing to eat since breakfast.

After a sandwich stop, I found myself at the county court house with Officer Brown.

We parked his '49 Ford squad car and entered the building through a side door that led into the basement floor. We then proceeded down a corridor to the elevator. Officer Brown motioned me into it and punched a button for the third floor.

When we exited the elevator, it was apparent that we on a floor where the upper echelon of county officials were located. The walls were paneled in dark wood part way up the wall with framed photographs of former county officials hanging in gilt frames at regular intervals on the beige plaster above the wood. We walked down the hall to a door that had 'Steve Thornton, County Judge' on it in gold letters.

Officer Brown motioned for me to go in ahead of him. As I entered the judge's waiting room, there was a large walnut desk with a middle-aged neatly dressed woman seated behind it. On the walls were more pictures, this time of what I guessed were former county judges. There was also a name plate on the desk that read 'Margaret Winston'. I remember thinking that the woman behind the desk looked more like a school teacher than a secretary.

Officer Brown greeted her warmly saying "Good afternoon, Margaret. This is Kyle Barton. The judge should be expecting us."

"Yes," she responded. "He got your call. He was planning to be in the office this afternoon anyway."

Brown walked over to the door at the side of the waiting room and knocked.

From within came a strong voice saying "Come in."

Brown opened the door and motioned me in first and then followed me into the judge's office.

Judge Thornton rose from behind a large walnut desk half covered with official looking documents. He was a tall man about 50 with gray short-cropped hair and a bearing that commanded your immediate respect. Even in early middle age, I did not see any fat on his 190 lb. [85 kg] frame. 'Tough' and 'macho' immediately crossed my mind on meeting him. I somehow knew that this was the guy in charge and not a man that you wanted for your enemy.

Looking at me with a straight, expressionless face he said "You must be Kyle Barton."

"Yes sir," I replied.

"From Officer Brown, I also understand that you have no family for us to contact. The county can arrange to have your father's remains buried in the county cemetery, if that is OK with you," he continued.

"Sir that would be good," I replied.

"OK then, that's settled. Brown, will you see to the arrangements?"

"Yes, judge," Officer Brown said.

"Now Kyle, we need to talk about settling the debt that your father owed the hotel as well as the costs associated with burying him. Are you up to talking about these at this time?"

"Yes, sir," I replied. "He was an alcoholic and I knew that it was only a matter of time until all of that drinking caught up with him. He brought this on himself."

Judge Thornton continued "I understand that you have little or no money and no knowledge of how your father planned to take care of his hotel bill. I have a solution that may work out the best for you and for the hotel and the county.

My brother, Jim Thornton, has a farm outside of the city where he often takes in kids to help with the farm chores until they have paid off a fine and/or a debt from their wages as a farm hand. How would you feel about working on the farm with him for the summer so that we can clear up these debts? In the meantime it would give us time to contact the authorities in Missouri about what will be the permanent disposition of you since you are legally a minor from that state with no immediate family."

"That sounds good to me. How long would I have to work for your brother to pay off the debt?" I asked.

"That's a fair question. I would say that you would be there through Labor Day," answered the judge. "Of course you will have to pass a physical to be sure that you are physically fit and that it's medically OK for you to work on a farm."

"Sir, I think that I'm fit. I was on the swimming and wrestling teams back at school."

"Well, you look fit to me. However, to satisfy the law I will have to have you examined. We have a doctor on staff that normally takes care of pre-employment physicals for our staff and also tends to the prisoners in the country jail. Brown can escort you to Dr. Sims office on the second floor. This is one of his days to be here in the court house. If he says that you are fit, it will just take his signature on this form to make you the ward of the county for the next three months. I have already signed the form anticipating that you would want to do this. I just need to have you sign it indicating that you agree to participate in the program and acknowledge that this is of your own freewill," explained the judge. Then he reached over and took an official looking document from the top of his desk and handed it to me along with a pen.

I knew that I really didn't have much of a choice in the matter. I signed the document without reading much of it. If I had known then what I know now, I never would have signed the d**n thing. In effect, as I would soon find out, I had voluntarily signed myself into a modern form of slavery.

Chapter III
Grade "A" Beef and Boys

"Yes sir. I'll see to it," The officer responded.

Turning to me he then said "Come on with me, Kyle. Dr. Sims should be in his office and we can get you checked out and on out to the farm in time for dinner. I have your bag in my squad car."

With that he escorted me out of the judge's office and back down the hall to the same elevator on which we had come up earlier. When we got off on the second floor, it appeared much the same as the third floor only with fewer photos on the walls. Officer Brown walked me quickly down the hall to a door marked 'Medical Inspector'. Again, I was motioned to go in ahead of the officer. This time there was no secretary, just another man in his forties in a white lab coat sitting behind a desk on which was a nameplate with the words: 'Dr. Charles Sims, M.D'.

I remember that Dr. Sims had pale skin and thinning gray hair. He was somewhat on the heavy side at roughly 200 lbs. [90 kg]. Since he was only about 5' 9" [1.75 m], his weight made him look even heavier than he actually was.

As we came through the door, he looked up from some paper work on his desk and said "You must be Kyle Barton. I had a call from the judge's secretary just now to expect the two of you. I understand that you will be joining the crew out at the judge's brother's farm. Assuming, of course, you are physically fit."

"Yes sir," I answered. "That's me."

"Have you had a physical examination before?" he asked quizzically.

"Yes sir, I have. I had to have them to participate on the swimming and wrestling teams back at my school," I responded truthfully.

"OK, Kyle. Go through that door and you'll be in my examination room. Take off your clothes and sit on the examination table. I'll be there in a minute," he said as he pointed to the door on his right.

As instructed, I turned and went through the door on his right. Like he said, once I had gone through the door, I found myself in a medical examination room with an exam table in its center. There was a wash basin and towel rack in one corner of the room. What appeared to be a supply cabinet, a clothes tree, a basket for medical waste, and a couple of straight metal chairs completed the sparse furnishings in the small, antiseptically clean, white room.

I walked over to one of the straight chairs and unbuttoned my shirt. I took it off and put it over the back of the chair followed by my tee shirt. I then sat down on the chair and took off my low-cut tennis shoes and socks. Then I unzipped my jeans and stepped out of them. Still in my underpants (what today you would probably call 'tighty-whities'), I went over and sat on the end of the exam table and waited for the doctor.

I didn't have long to wait before the he entered the room with a clipboard in his hand that contained some sort of form. Officer Brown was still with him.

"Kyle, you look like you're in good physical shape. You said that you were on both the swimming and wrestling teams back at your school in Missouri. I also understood you to say that you have had physicals before for those sports. Do I have that correct?" asked Dr. Sims.

"Yes sir, that's true. I was examined twice, once for each sport. I participated in both sports this past school year. In fact, our last swim meet was about a month ago just before school was out for the summer."

"Well then, based on your history, I believe we can cut this short and skip some of the normal things like the lab work. Let's take a look at you."

Dr. Sims produced his stethoscope and proceeded to check out my heart and lungs and then my ears and eyes. He tapped on my chest a couple of times and then he got the cuff from the supply cabinet and took my pulse and blood pressure. Then he read off a list of illnesses wanting to know if I had ever had any of them.

"Now, how about you stand up for me," said the doctor. "Oh, and please take off your shorts."

I remember thinking that this wasn't the way that my physicals had gone at school, but he was the doctor and I was stuck with doing whatever he said. Having been seen naked by the whole team and the coaches back at school, I was probably less upset about the idea of being seen naked by two strange men than a lot of kids my age might have been. So, I just stood there in front of the doctor and the policeman and slipped my underwear down and stepped out of them. I blushed as I stood there on full display and unconsciously started to put one hand over my boy parts but somehow resisted the temptation. Honestly, even having been seen naked before by a whole group of men and boys in the team locker room, I still felt like a piece of meat ready for inspection. I remember wondering at the time if they were going to stamp me 'Grade A' at the end of the examination.

Looking back after all of these years, at fourteen years of age I was what you would have called a fine specimen of boyhood. I was tall for my age and stood 5' 10" [1.78 m] and weighed 160 lbs. [72 kg] Participation in swimming and wrestling had tightened and toned my naturally muscular young body. My arms, chest, and legs were particularly well defined. In addition, I had firm, chiseled abs that today would be called 'a six-pack'. My flaccid three and a half inch [9 cm] penis and hanging ball-sac were as large and well-developed as those of many men years older than me.

The thing was, I had just finished the last of my team's swim meets less than a month before coming on this ill-fated trip. Under normal circumstances my pubic bush would have been thick and dense. I would have also had a happy trail that ran up from my pubic area to my navel. There would have been noticeable hair on my legs and under my arms. However, as part of being on the swim team every hair on my body below my neck had been shaved off in order to increase speed in the water during swim meets. (Remember, this was the era when we practiced nude and even swam some meets nude when the other team was from an all boys' school.) While I had stopped shaving my body after the last swim meet, very little hair had thus far grown back. After almost a month, all I had that was visible below the neck was less than an inch of hair above my penis and a little under my arms.

"Well Kyle," said the doctor. "We don't see many young men who have shaved off all of their body hair. I assume that you have been shaving your body for your swim meets, is that correct?"

"Yes sir," I stammered. "We practice nude and swim some of the meets nude. Our last meet was with Jefferson Military Academy. Both teams competed nude."

"I thought that was probably the case," he said and then instructed "Ok Kyle, let me see you do ten 'jumping jacks' and then I want you to do twenty push-ups."

"Here in the exam room, naked?" I asked quizzically.

"Yes" replied the doctor. "That will give me an opportunity to make sure that your muscles are working properly."

With that, I figured 'What the Hell' and proceeded to do the required exercise. Of course, all of that jumping with my unrestrained penis flopping around caused me to start to get an erection. By the time that I had done the ten, the doctor looked at me with half a smile on his face and said "Why don't you do ten more? I want to be sure that I have checked out everything."

So, I did ten more. By the time that I finished the second ten, my penis was definitely hard. Erect, it was more than 5 in. [12½ cm] long and stood out at an angle to my body. Now, I didn't mind so much being naked with the two strange men watching me exercise, but watching me do it with an erection was an entirely different matter. I was turning red in the face from embarrassment and exertion and really wanted to cover up. However, it seemed that there no way that Dr. Sims was going to let that happen.

Without waiting for the doctor to remind me, I dropped to the floor and started doing the push-ups. Dr. Sims counted the reps until I was done and stood back up. However, the push-ups had not caused my erection to go down, if anything they just seemed to solidify the erect state.

Dr. Sims then had me sit down on the end of the exam table so that he could again take my blood pressure and check my heart. "You're doing well and seem to be in excellent shape," said the doctor. "Let me check you out to make sure that you don't have any hernias. Stand up and turn your head to the right and cough," He then instructed. After he checked that side, he then checked the other. Then he examined my rock hard penis. By this time, I was sure that I would cum on his hand if he didn't take it away soon. Somehow, I didn't cum but I knew that it had been a close call.

He then proceeded to put a rubber glove on his right hand. "Now bend over the table and spread your butt cheeks. I need to check out your rear to make sure that you don't have any hemorrhoids." I had never had my anus probed before and didn't know what to expect. Dr. Sims smeared some sort of cool salve on my butt hole and then inserted his finger, slowly at first. I winced at this strange new sensation. However, once he passed the sphincter muscle, he wasted no time shoving his finger all the way into my virgin butt. I inhaled sharply at this invasion of my body and was totally surprised at the sensations that I felt when he reached my prostate and slowly probed the area.

This was too much for me. There was nothing that I could do, I shuddered and arched my back as trembling I reacted with an involuntary orgasm. My penis erupted in a stream of cum that shot two feet [60 cm] in front of me followed by three lesser eruptions. Fortunately, Officer Brown was to one side of me and the doctor was behind me so neither was hit with my boy juice.

At that point, I wished that the floor had just opened up and swallowed me. I had never been so embarrassed or humiliated in all of my young life. I was still trembling slightly, near tears, and must have been beet red with shame because the doctor said "You haven't had a prostate exam before have you, Kyle?"

I felt like saying 'Hell, no!' but instead I somehow managed to stutter "No sir, I haven't."

Dr. Sims then extracted his finger from my butt and turned to a box of issues in the supply cabinet and handed me some of them. "Use these to clean yourself up and to wipe up your ejaculate." Quickly I wiped off the end of my penis and got down on the floor and wiped up my boy seed.

"Well that's about it. Why don't you get up on the exam table and lie down face up. Put your hands behind your head. We might as well get the last of that body hair while you're here," said the doctor.

"Why do I need to get rid of my body hair?" I asked surprised at his request.

"It's county health code. We had an outbreak of body lice last year. All prisoners and wards of the county are now kept hairless below the neck for hygienic purposes. Having been shaved for the swim team, you have very little anyway. I might as well go ahead and shave off what you do have and save Jim Thornton the trouble."

"What if I don't want to shave it off?" I asked.

"Sorry son, you really don't have any say in the matter," Replied the doctor looking somewhat vexed at me as he reached into the supply cabinet to produce a razor and some shaving soap.

Figuring that resistance was futile, I lay down on the exam table and put my hands behind my head. Lying there, everything about my body that up until now had been private was on full display. I was mortified to think that a strange man, even if he was a doctor, was going to shave my body. Even at home, I had done most of the shaving myself with only a little help from another kid on my team at a shaving party for the swim team.

Dr. Sims came back to the exam table with a razor and a shaving mug with a wet mixture of shaving soap (this was in the days before aerosol cans of shaving cream were common.) He then proceeded to soap my armpits and pubic area. Once he had those areas covered in lather, he took the razor and carefully shaved both parts of my anatomy. He then took a warm, damp washcloth and wiped away the remaining lather.

"Ok, Kyle" the doctor said. "You can stand up now."

I stood up and ran my hand over my pubic area. I was as smooth and hairless as it had been at our last swim meet. I could see myself in a mirror on the wall of the examination room. It crossed my mind that I looked like one of those Greek statues that we had seen on our school field trip to the art museum back home.

Then I noticed that both the doctor and Officer Brown were looking at me in a funny sort of way. I got the impression that they wanted to do or say something but the presence of one held back the other from whatever it was that they wanted to do or say. Looking back, I would guess that I was just naïve at the time. After all, I had never up until then experienced a man finding a boy attractive as a sex object. This was something that was about to change.

Chapter IV
Off to the Farm

"Since you're not a prisoner, you can ride up here with me. It will take us the better part of an hour to get out to the Thornton farm this time of the day," He informed me.

We drove out of the central part of the city on one of the main streets that soon became one of the highways out of town. After about twenty minutes, the homes and shopping areas began to thin out and it was not long before we were in the country. When we came to a sign that said 'County Road 12,' we turned off the main highway and drove several miles further into the countryside. Finally, there was a sign beside the road that said 'Thornton Farm - 2 mi'. and pointed off to the left of the county road. Officer Brown turned down the narrow road that ran to the farm. We passed only a few vehicles as we drove along the way. After a few minutes, we turned into the gate for the Thornton Farm where I would evidently be spending the summer.

There were a lot of trees and underbrush near the road so that the house and barn were not visible from the county road when we drove up. When we cleared the dense growth along the road, there was a large building off to the left that I assumed was the barn. The farm house was something that appeared to date from the end of the nineteenth century. It was a two-storied frame building with a large one-story front porch with wooden spindles for columns. The house itself was distinguished by those tall windows with the two vertical panes of glass in each section of the window that had been a popular feature when the house was built. The place was painted a light yellow trimmed in white with a dark, almost black, hipped roof. The barn also seemed to be in good repair, only unlike the house, it was painted in a light brown. I couldn't see anyone outside as Officer Brown drove up in front of the farm house, stopped the car, and honked the horn as we got out.

Moments later, the door to the house opened and a tall, well-built man about forty years of age came out onto the porch. He was wearing a tight yellow tee shirt and jeans, both of which were well worn. A pair of well-used work boots of the type that I would later learn are called 'Half Wellingtons' completed his outfit. With his tight-fitting clothing, you could see that he was in good shape for his age. The parts of his skin that were exposed were well tanned from what must have been a lot of time spent out of doors. In fact only his graying hair betrayed his true age. From his features, I could tell that this must be Jim Thornton, the judge's brother.

(Later I would learn that Jim Thornton was in fact 41. He had been a Marine in World War II, then only seven years in the past. He weighed a trim 185 lbs. [84 kg] and stood an even 6ft. [1.80 m] tall. He had played college football for the state university and had also been a Division I wrestler in both high school and college. At fourteen, I also remember that his well developed biceps and pecs had impressed me.)

Farmer Thornton came down the porch steps and shook hands with Officer Brown saying "Good to see you Sean. I understand that you have another boy that my brother wants me to keep for him." Then, turning to look at me he added "This the boy?"

"Good to see you, Jim. Yes, this is Kyle Barton. I imagine that the judge briefed you on his situation. Doc Sims has certified that he's in good physical shape. He should be a good worker. He's just coming off the wrestling and swimming teams back at his school in Missouri," replied the officer.

Jim Thornton extended his hand and we shook hands. His grip was strong but not uncomfortably so. "Call me 'Uncle Jim'. that's what all of the boys call me" he said. "Of course we only have two other boys staying here right now but expect more soon. The two that are here are about your age. They're still out in the south field pulling weeds, but they'll be coming in soon and you can meet them then."

"Sign the form putting him in your care and I'll be on my way. I'd like to get back to town in time for supper," said the officer.

Thornton signed the form on the officer's clipboard and took a copy for his records and said "Sorry that you can't stay and eat with us, Sean."

"Maybe next time, Jim," said the officer as he got back into the squad car leaving me with Jim Thornton and the bag with my few articles of clothing. He waived from the car as he drove down the driveway and out of sight.

Jim Thornton waved back at the departing car. Then he turned to me and said "OK Kyle, the rules are simple. You do what I say and do it quickly and without question and everything will go well. You will be respectful at all times and say 'yes sir' and 'no sir' if you know what's good for you. You're a ward of the county and have been entrusted to my care. I call the shots. What we do here and how we do it may not be like it was back at home, but this is not intended to be a 'bed and breakfast' but a place for you to stay and earn your keep until your debt to the county is paid. Until that time, get used to the idea that you are in effect my slave in every way but name. I don't consider myself a bad person, but, for now, your ass belongs to me. Understand? Any questions?"

"No sir. That sounds pretty clear to me," I answered apprehensively.

About then I heard some rustling of the bushes around the side of the house and footsteps on the gravel of the drive. Then I just stood there wide-eyed as the other two boys in Uncle Jim's care came into view. Both were completely naked and covered with dirt and mud from the field where they had been working. I remember thinking 'What the Hell have I gotten myself into?'

Chapter V
Farm Life Is Not What I Expected

"I'm Sam Thomas and this is Jerry O'Brien," said the taller of the two naked boys.

"Err, hi," I managed to stammer. "I'm Kyle Barton."

Sam, the taller of the two, stood about 5' 11" [1.80 m] and probably outweighed me by five pounds [2¼ kg]. He had sandy blonde hair that was curly although cut short. He was well muscled and tanned all over from what I figured was a lot of outdoor work on the farm. Hairless below the neck, his flaccid 3 in. [7½ cm] penis looked larger with its total lack of pubic hair.

Jerry, on the other hand, was one of those freckled kids who tanned only in spite of his Irish heritage. His auburn brown hair made me imagine that he would have had a 'fire' crotch, if he had been allowed to have pubic hair. As it was, his almost 4 in. [10 cm] penis seemed huge without any hair in which to hide. Still at 5' 9" [1.75 m] and 170 lbs. [77 kg] his muscled frame was solid from hard work.

I picked up my small suitcase and proceeded to follow Sam and Jerry in the direction of the barn. We walked around its side and immediately I saw a one-story cinder block building behind the barn.

"That's the bunk house. All of the boys assigned to 'Uncle Jim' live in the bunk house," volunteered Jerry.

"What are you in for?" asked Sam.

"My father and I were attending a convention in the city. He died suddenly and left me unable to pay his hotel bills and now his burial. Judge Thornton didn't really give me much choice but to come here. I don't have any other family to step in and settle things," I answered truthfully.

"You sound like a Yankee. Where're you from?" asked Jerry.

"I'm from Missouri. I take it you guys are local. Why are you here?" I asked.

"I was caught stealing from a five and dime. It was either this or end up in the county jail. At the time, I thought this would be a better deal," responded Sam

"I got into mischief that the law saw as vandalism," said Jerry. "Like Sam, I was given a choice; either go to the farm or take my chances in court and probably end up in the county jail. You see, they don't really have a very good juvenile system in this county."

"Why the Hell are you guys naked?" I asked.

"It's just the way that 'Uncle Jim' runs the place. It's warm enough so that you're not uncomfortable. After all, most days it has been hitting 100 [38°C] out there in the fields, and he feels that it strengthens and toughens you. Of course it also saves him money on laundry, but don't ever let him hear you say that," responded Sam.

"Yeah," said Jerry. "I was foolish enough to say that one day where he could hear me. After he tanned my butt, I had to eat supper standing up."

"Let's hurry up and get in the showers. We need to get ready for supper. Uncle Jim is a stickler for us being on time," urged Sam.

Sam and Jerry entered the bunk house ahead of me. I followed them inside to find a large plain gray room that held ten single military-style beds in two rows of five. The soft whir of an attic fan was pulling in fresh air that cooled the concrete block building somewhat but, like most places in that era, there was no air conditioning like we would expect today. At the far end of the room was a door through which I could see wash basins. I guessed correctly that the showers and toilets were there too somewhere out of sight.

The two naked boys continued in the direction of the 'head' as they would later tell me the bathroom was called there on the farm. Leaving my suitcase beside the door, I followed them toward the showers. By the time I caught up with them both were under the showers and lathering their tanned bodies.

"You might as well peel off those clothes and join us. We have to be clean for supper. We'll fill you in on the details of life on the farm after supper," instructed Sam.

With that I unbuttoned my shirt and took it off and hung it on a peg on the wall by the shower. I peeled off my tee shirt and added it to the shirt on the peg. The rest of my clothes followed quickly.

Now as naked as my new-found roommates, I walked into the shower room and turned on the water. It felt good after the day that I had just been through.

As much as I enjoyed the shower, I couldn't help but notice that both Sam and Jerry seemed to be sizing me up. While they lathered and washed and talked about the day's events, they also eyed my naked body just like Dr. Sims and Officer Brown had done earlier in the day.

As they lathered their tanned bodies, it was soon obvious that they were spending more time soaping their penises than was necessary. Both soon had full erections. Sam's was about 5" [13 cm] while Jerry's was an impressive 6" [15 cm] Now and then, I had seen erections in the shower before, but their next action was what totally surprised me. They laughingly challenged each other to a 'sword fight'. What followed the challenge was an exchange of slaps and blows with their respective rock hard penises while holding their arms behind their backs. Since neither one of the boys had gigantic penises, this mock combat involved a lot of close contact with their wet bodies slapping against one another. I just stood there in the shower wide-eyed and thinking that now I had seen everything.

For a few minutes there were parries and thrusts with these hard boyish living swords that were coupled with a series of quick circling moves much as you might see in an actual fencing match. However, no fencing match ever involved two wet, naked teens with this type of 'weapon'.

Then, suddenly, a shrill voice rang out: "What the Hell are you two doing?" It was Uncle Jim who stood there at the door to the shower with a totally upset look on his hard face. "You know that this is Thursday and you need to be saving yourselves for Saturday. I ought to tan your butts. If it weren't for the fact that I want you looking good for my buddies, I would. I have half a mind to tan you anyway. Finish up and get out of the shower," he responded angrily.

Then, turning to me, Jim Thornton said "Kyle, I have a stack of farm clothes and other things for you. These ought to fit you. Dry off and let's see if they do. I'll put them on your bunk. Leave your towel in the dirty towel bin when you are through in here."

I quickly exited the shower and dried off. Then I walked naked back into the bunk room. It was a good thing that I wasn't very modest. Here I was naked with three strangers looking me over like a piece of fresh meat.

True to his word, Uncle Jim has placed a stack of what appeared to be well-worm work clothes on one of the bunks. He also had a pair of used work boots in his hand. I examined the pile and found two pair of dark blue gym shorts, a jock, and two white tee shirts along with a new toothbrush, a washrag, and a razor.

"You won't need these very much and you won't need the things that you brought with you at all. Most of the time you'll work naked in the fields," advised Uncle Jim. "Unless there is a need to dress, you'll also be spending the whole day naked. I just expect you to be clean for meals. You can wear your boots to meals but that's it," instructed Thornton.

Looking at the puzzled expression on my face, he continued "I will be having you do a lot of hard work and physical exercise designed to get you into and keep you in top physical shape. Clothes just get in the way when you are doing that. I'll let you know if and when I want you to wear any."

With those words, I remember thinking 'This guy's some kind of nut case'.

Sam and Jerry were both still naked. Each sat on his bunk and put on low-cut tennis shoes of the kind that are sometimes called 'deck shoes'. When they had them laced up and tied they both sprang up and headed toward the bunk house door.

"Come on, Kyle! Supper around here isn't half bad, even if Uncle Jim does the cooking himself," laughed Sam. Jim Thornton smiled and made an obscene gesture with his middle index finger at the tall teen and headed toward the door himself.

Quickly, I got on my shoes and stood up figuring correctly that naked was the uniform for supper. 'Go along to get along' crossed my mind as I followed them out the door..

We then hurried back up the trail to the porch of the farmhouse where dinner would be served. Three naked teenagers and their farmer 'master' ambled along together. What a summer this was going to be.

Chapter VI
Work Day on the Farm

Morning comes early on a farm. At six, Uncle Jim unlocked the door to the bunk house, came in, and flipped on the overhead lights shouting "Reveille, reveille, everybody up." Three groggy naked teenaged boys reluctantly drug themselves out of their bunks.

Hurriedly Sam and Jerry sprinted to the head to get rid of the morning 'wood' resulting from their need to urinate. I followed them into the head and washed my face before also finding my way after them to the toilets.

"Come on. You guys get your butts outside, it's time for calisthenics," yelled Jim Thornton.

Once outside the bunkhouse, we lined up in a straight, naked line facing Thornton. As we stood there stretching and limbering up, he peeled off his tee shirt and pulled down his blue gym shorts and stepped out of them. Standing there naked before us, he looked good for a guy in his early forties. His muscular frame was well tanned from working outdoors. Across one well-developed upper arm was a Marine Corps tattoo. However, his most impressive feature was his hairy body. It was plain to all that Jim Thornton was one of those guys who had a lot of thick, kinky body hair. His pubic bush was thick, dense, and curly. His four inch [10 cm] flaccid penis seemed almost hidden amongst all of the hair growing around it. More than a happy trail, his whole hard abdomen was covered in hair which ran up from his even thicker pubic bush to his naval and beyond. His well-developed chest was very hairy although there was some gray among the hair growing there. His legs were quite hairy and hair protruded from under his arms. His hairy condition was all the more noticeable since all three of us were completely hairless below the neck per the county policy for prisoners and wards of the county.

It was warm and humid with the temperature already about 80 degrees [27°C] when Uncle Jim announced "Let's start with jumping jacks." He counted cadence as we did twenty to start us off. Then we proceeded to do half a dozen other exercises before he decided that we had had enough to start the day on the farm. By the time that we had finished, we were all fully awake and breathing hard, but not really winded from our efforts. However, we were already sweating from our exertions.

Everyone then ambled over to the porch at the front of the farmhouse. There all four of us sat naked at the same table on the porch where we had eaten supper the night before. Breakfast consisted of oatmeal, toast, and coffee. At least there was plenty of this simple food. However, as I was soon to learn, Uncle Jim was not a very original cook. To this day, I can't look a bowl of oatmeal in the face since that is all we had for days at a time for our morning meal on the farm.

After breakfast we were given time to brush our teeth, shave as needed, use the toilet, and make our beds before being issued hoes and work gloves with which to weed the field on the north side of the farmhouse beyond the trees and underbrush that surrounded that building. Before we headed for the field, we took turns smearing some sort of suntan lotion all over each other. (Today you would probably call it 'sun block'.) I followed Sam and Jerry out to the field where they quickly showed me the proper way to weed the acres of soy beans that were planted there. After all, I was a city boy and this was a new experience for me. In fact, I don't think that I had ever even seen a soy bean before then.

Today, you would use a 'cultivator' to weed soy beans, but when you have free slave labor like Uncle Jim had, why bother? I was later to learn that Jim Thornton had another brother who worked for the state Department of Agriculture who supplied him with the latest in crop ideas for his farm. That's how he happened to be experimenting with soy beans at a time when they were still not all that common in the South.

"Uncle Jim expects us each to do twenty rows today," said Sam. "You'll get your butt licked or worse if you don't make your quota. He'll be out here working with us at least part of the time, so he'll know quickly enough if you're getting the job done or not."

My first day in the fields, I was more than ready to stop for a rest when our morning break rolled around. I sat under a tree naked and dripping wet with sweat as I drank from my water bottle. Then I happened to notice that there was a fence around the adjacent field with brush and small trees growing along the fence line. A number of large privet hedge plants among the trees completely obscured the field from view. There was also a gate into it that was padlocked. As we drank our water and rested for a few minutes, I turned to the other two boys and asked "What's that over there beyond the fence?"

"That's where Uncle Jim grows some kind of hemp" answered Jerry. "We don't get to go in there. He normally tends that field himself. He says that it doesn't need any care from us. It's something that the government got farmers around here to plant during the war (i.e. World War II) as a substitute for hemp from Latin America. They used it to make rope. He says that there's still a market for it around here locally."

"I was just curious" I responded as we finished our break and started back to work.

Working hard in the hot, humid weather had us all sweating profusely. My back and arm muscles were soon aching from the unaccustomed work. By the time that the day was over, I felt like my arms were on fire. At least part of the day, we were in the shade, but I could feel that, due to the suntan oil, I was only lightly sunburned over much of my naked body from being in the field all day. Exhausted was the only word that described how I and the other two boys felt at the end of the strenuous work day.

The daily routine was really quite simple. Around what must have been 10am, we had a ten to fifteen minute water and rest break. Then we worked until noon when we stopped for 30 minutes for a 'plowmen's lunch' that usually consisted of a piece of bread, a piece of cheese, and a bottle of water that we had each been given in a sack when we left for the field. Another break around 3pm was our only other stop for the afternoon before we left the field about 5pm.

Most days, Uncle Jim would join us in helping to care for his crop. He either worked naked like we did or sometimes left on his gym shorts. Either way, he wore a lot less than the ordinary farmer of his day. Being well shielded from the lightly traveled road, it really didn't matter. No one except someone actually coming into the field could see us.

I don't remember how many acres that he had under cultivation. I only remember that it seemed huge to me at the time and that I worked my butt off helping with whatever jobs he wanted us to do. However, as Sam and Jerry said, only he tended the crop behind the locked gate.

Chapter VI
Saturday Night Is Party Time

I had been on the farm almost a month when the first 'party night' of my stay was held. It seems that two of Uncle Jim's war buddies were still in the Marine reserve and had been out of town for their two weeks of active duty training. This had caused Jim to forgo having his weekly get together until they got back.

Jim Thornton's three Saturday night friends consisted of Dan Brown, Kurt Schneider, and Larry Jones. All four of them had attended the same high school and played on the same football team while there. They had served in the same Marine Corps unit in the South Pacific during World War II. That and the fact that they had somehow managed to survive more than one of those Hell holes where the Marines lost a lot of good men had made them even closer than they had been in high school.

These old friends liked to get together on Saturday evenings for burgers on the grill, beer, potato salad, and whatever else they could get in the way of snacks. If there was a ball game on the radio, they might listen to that, otherwise they might have a game of poker, but after a few beers they turned to us for the real 'fun and games'.

The biggest of the three was Dan Brown. He stood 6' 2" [1.88 m] and tipped the scales at 220 lbs. [100 kg]. His arms were as big as some men's legs and his chest was equally impressive. His light brown hair was still worn in what in those days was called a 'crew cut' with 'white sidewalls' just like when he had been on active duty. He also had a long scar on his left upper arm that I later learned was from a Japanese bayonet wound that he had received on Guadalcanal. He always arrived wearing a tight tee shirt, tight jeans with a big belt, and a ball cap in the colors of the state university. However, in the summer heat the tee shirt didn't last long. His heavily tanned upper body was evidence that he spent much of his day working shirtless outside at construction sites.

Kurt Schneider was from a German immigrant family that had come to this country before the First World War. His name alone had gotten him into more than one fight during the war years when anything 'kraut' was suspect. Kurt worked in a home and auto store and thus had little in the way of a tan. However, his blonde Germanic almost hairless body did not tan that well anyway, but he took pride in staying in shape. He had what you might call a nice, tight 'swimmer's body'. He weighed 180 lbs. [82 kg] and stood 5'11" [1.80 m] tall.

The third friend, Larry Jones, was what in the South they called 'a good ol' country boy'. He had grown up on a farm and still worked on his father's place only a few miles from Thornton's farm. Like Uncle Jim, Larry's body was lean and reddish brown from long exposure to the elements while working on the land. He was about 5' 10" [1.78 m] and weighed about 175 lbs. [79 kg]. From his well-worn ball cap to his tattered jeans with the snuff can in the hip pocket, everything thing about him said 'country'.

Sam and Jerry had briefed me on what to expect at these Saturday evening affairs. I really didn't like what they were planning one bit, but in my status as a ward of the county I was the next best thing to being a slave. Uncle Jim could have had me do almost anything while I had no say in the matter whatsoever. Then too, his brother, the judge, would have backed him up and I would have found myself in the county jail.

So this is what my first Saturday night looked like. When the 'war buddies' arrived we were expected to be clean and naked while doing the cooking and serving. (The only exception was whichever one of us was doing the actual cooking got to wear an apron to avoid getting splatter burns from the grill.) We were also supposed to take turns circulating and providing Uncle Jim and his buddies with snacks and beers as they listened to the ball game and re-told their 'war stories'. As the 'new kid' at my first Saturday party, Uncle Jim had assigned me to stay close to him and be responsive to the needs of his 'guests'. At the time, I did not realize that meant that I was there to give them something to fondle while they drank, ate, and visited with each other.

The first to arrive that Saturday was Dan Brown. Jim Thornton and he exchanged warm greetings including not only a handshake but a big bear hug as well. Then Uncle Jim turned and motioned me over. I was still not comfortable with all of the nudity that was expected of me and must have been blushing as the big man looked me over like he could gobble me up on the spot. Worse yet, like most teenagers, I had no control over when my penis might decide to get hard. Of course it started to do so with big, muscular Dan Brown looking at me. The more that I tried to will it to go down, the more it got hard.

The big guy smiled at me and glancing down at my penis said "I take it that you're glad to see me. Maybe we can get to know each other better during the evening." Then he reached out with a callused hand and slowly ran it over my chest and belly before coming to rest on my left nipple. Now, I have always had nipples that stood out from my chest and ended in firm, little nubs sort of like small erasers. Evidently, the big guy found these fascinating. Once his fingers were there, he massaged the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. With his other hand he reached down and fondled my now fully erect penis. I was too stunned to move. I knew from Jim Thornton's instructions before the party that I had to do whatever his guests wanted me to do and that any part of me was fair game for their entertainment and amusement. Still, when it actually happens to you, you are not fully ready for it, particularly when you have never experienced being felt up by another man before in your life.

I knew that there was nothing that I could do except stand there and let the big guy fondle me. I couldn't look him in the face. So blushing, I stared at something on the opposite wall while he continued to enjoy feeling me up. Then taking his hand from my nipple his big arm slowly circled my shoulders and pulled my face close to his big body. I could feel the warmth of his skin and the beating of his heart beneath his tee shirt as my naked flesh rested on his chest.

What followed was a big sloppy kiss on my lips. The smell of beer on his breath told me that he had started drinking before he got to the farm. I remember that he must have needed a shave because it felt like I was being rubbed by a piece of sandpaper. With that, there was a sigh as the big guy released me and turning to Uncle Jim said: "How about one of those cold bottles of Bud?"

As each of Thornton's buddies arrived they exchanged warm greetings and then helped themselves to their first beer. While both Kurt and Larry looked me over carefully, neither 'explored' my body like Dan Brown had done upon his arrival.

The four buddies sat in easy chairs and on the sofa in the old farmhouse living room listening to the ballgame, drinking beer, and eating the burgers and snacks that Sam, Jerry, and I served them. They were Brooklyn Dodgers fans and so particularly liked to get together when the Dodgers games were being broadcast on the radio. Aside from the buddies slapping us boys on the butt a few times and Jerry getting his rather large penis felt-up more than once, the ball game passed relatively uneventfully.

Once the game was over and the guys had each consumed several beers apiece, Jim Thornton announced that it was time for 'the fun' part of the evening.

Larry Jones pulled Jim Thornton to one side and made a request of him that was out of earshot. I could tell that at first Thornton didn't want to do whatever it was that Jones wanted him to do. However, after some additional exchange between the two men, Jim agreed to Larry's request and the smaller man walked none to steadily over to the phone on an end table and made a call. From what I could hear of the call, Jones was calling his son and telling him to come on over to the Thornton farm.

From watching my father drink, I knew that some guys got drunk on only a few beers. On feet that were by now not all that sure of themselves, the four men and we three boys walked from the house to the barn. If the beer had had an effect on Uncle Jim and Dan Brown, it didn't show. Kurt was just a little pie-eyed, but Larry Jones gave every indication that he was already drunk.

We had laid out a large mat on the barn floor so that it was prepared for wrestling. Uncle Jim looked from one to the other of his teenaged wards and then announced "Let's see what we can do. Sam and Jerry, you're up tonight. Kyle, you can take and hold the bets."

The two naked boys faced each other and began limbering up. Jim Thornton went over to a supply cabinet on one wall and produced a large bottle of some kind of oil. Then he motioned the two boys over to him where he proceeded to oil their naked bodies in order to make them more difficult to hold in the coming match. Additionally, the oil added to their sex appeal for the by now drunken veterans that were Uncle Jim's friends. If they were not hard before, they were when he finished applying the oil. Next, Jim tied a red piece of cloth on the left ankle of Sam and a blue piece on the left ankle of Jerry.

Jim Thornton's buddies wrote bets on small pieces of paper that were on the tray that I was given to carry and dropped them into a bowl on the tray. It seemed that no money actually changed hands at these matches. The men just bet on the outcome of the match.

As I was soon to learn, unlike wrestling back at school, the only rules for this match were no biting, kicking in the balls, or poking in the eyes. Otherwise, pretty much anything was fair game in these matches, even sex and points were awarded for some really strange things.

Both boys took their positions at opposite corners of the mat and assumed a crouching stance. Then Uncle Jim blew a whistle that he had produced from somewhere signaling the start of the match. Sam and Jerry slowly circled each other on the mat sizing each other up. Both of the naked, shinny teens glared at each other as though they could will the other into submission. Suddenly, Sam was the first to act. With his left arm raised and his right lowered like he was going to grab him by the balls, Sam rushed at Jerry trying to throw him off balance and take him down. Jerry, trying to avoid being grabbed, was just a second too slow to sidestep the attack. Sam managed to get him in an arm lock and quickly used one leg to throw Jerry off balance. The resulting takedown found both of the naked, slippery boys on the mat with Sam on top of Jerry.

Jim Thornton, acting as the referee, called out "Ten points red, takedown."

Although this left Sam in the better position, the oil on their bodies made it difficult for him to exploit his advantage. Somehow, Jerry's struggling threw Sam off-balance just enough to roll him over and onto his side. In a flash the tables were turned and Jerry was on top of Sam.

"Five points blue, reverse," ruled Jim.

Both boys were excited by the match and by now had fully erect penises. This new position left Jerry with his hard penis up against Sam's lower back. The sweat and oil that covered both of the struggling boys added to the erotic effect this was having on each of them. Jerry worked until he had Sam in an arm bar. Once he had the taller teen's well-oiled upper body spread-eagled in the hold. Jerry then freed one hand and felt for his opponent's hard cock that was standing straight up and presenting an inviting target.

"Five points blue, hand on cock," again ruled Jim.

Jerry grunted and struggling quickly broke the hold and pulled away from Sam. Both boys got to their feet and each rushed toward the other grabbing one another around the neck. Then, facing each other they pressed against each other with only the grunts of their struggle and the cheers and taunts of the leering, drunken men breaking the silence. Their wet muscular bodies glistened in the overhead lights of the barn. Their faces were only inches apart. Then their lips met and they started kissing.

"Lip lock, five points, red and blue," chortled Uncle Jim.

Both boys held their wet, passionate kiss and slowly moved their hands down to each others cocks. Then Sam suddenly dropped to his knees and slid Jerry's hard cock into his mouth. Jerry struggled to free himself, but Sam was holding him tightly around his legs at the knees and was unable to break the old.

"Mouth on Cock, ten points, red," announced Jim. Then he separated the two boys and the circling started again.

This give and take went on for what must have been another fifteen minutes until Jerry threw Sam off balance and in a surprise move, pinned the taller boy to the mat with Jerry receiving 20 points for the final pin.

As Sam and Jerry's 'wrestling' match ended, an old beat-up Chevy pickup came up the driveway and stopped near the barn. A well-built young man got out of the truck and made his way over to where the group was standing. All four of the men greeted him warmly. It seems that this was Larry's son by some Mexican girl that he had gotten pregnant while he was stationed in San Diego before the war broke out. (How Carlos (called 'Carl') had ended up living with his Dad and grandfather without his Mother was something that I never learned.) Evidently Larry had told him that the boys in Jim Thornton's care engaged in wrestling matches during these Saturday night parties and he was interested in seeing what they were doing and maybe in participating.

Carl had just turned sixteen and was on his high school wrestling team. He was a good looking muscular kid with the straight black hair and olive complexion of his mother's people. He stood about 5'10" [1.78 m] and weighed about 165 lbs. [75 kg]. His black tee shirt with its rolled-up sleeves emphasized his well-built upper body. Jeans and low-cut tennis shoes with no socks completed the tough guy look that was popular with the rougher boys in that era. Unfortunately, Larry had failed to inform him that the 'wrestling' that went on at the party was conducted in the nude and involved a lot of male on male sex.

The young Mexican-American stood there wide-eyed looking at the two oil and sweat covered naked teens who had obviously just finished a match on the mat in the barn.

"What the Hell kind of wrestling is this?" asked Carl in an incredulous tone of voice.

His dad drunkenly replied "It's just nude wrestling with very few rules. You can't bite, kick the other guy in the balls, or poke him in the eyes. Other than that, most anything else is fair game. Hell, you even get points for feeling the other guy up. Just pull off your clothes and we'll have you wrestle one of these three. How about Kyle there, he's new on the farm and hasn't wrestled for us before? That should be fair since you haven't either."

Carl was not really buying all this nude wrestling stuff, but he had evidently been begging his dad to come over and try his stuff with the boys on the Thornton farm.

"I don't know about this. I've never wrestled naked before," stammered Carl.

"Aw, come on. Don't be a pussy. After all, you're the one who asked to come over. Don't disappoint me now, you hear me?" replied Larry in what for him was a stern voice.

Carl evidently decided that he didn't have any choice and we had no idea what might await him back home on the Jones place if he persisted in his refusal to wrestle. Slowly, he pulled his black tee shirt over his head exposing his well-developed upper body with its clearly defined six-pack. Then he kicked off his shoes and started to unbutton his belt-less jeans. As he slowly lowered his jeans, it was apparent that he wore no underwear. Even in the half light of the barn, it was obvious that Carl was blushing as he stepped out of his jeans. His four and a half inches [11 cm] of flaccid penis was a light brown that contrasted with the light olive of his skin. However, unlike the hairless boys of the Thornton Farm, his pubic bush was thick and black.

We three boys looked at Carl and then at each other. Sam was the one who asked what was the obvious question for us: "If we are going to wrestle with Carl here, in order for things to be equal, he needs a shave down there."

Carl's hands went to his groin as it registered that the other boys were hairless where it counted. The four men laughed and took another swig from their beers as Larry said: "What the Hell, I'm sure that Jim has some scissors around here some place. We can just cut that down to next to nothing. That ought to make things about equal. What do you all say?" Nods of affirmation from the grinning, leering men and even from us boys indicated agreement with his idea.

"If you're serious, I have some barber clippers that will work better than scissors. I just need to set them to 'shave'," volunteered Jim Thornton.

"Sounds good to me!" shouted Larry. Only Carl, still covering his package, was mechanically shaking his head in the other direction.

Moments later, Jim produced his barber clippers. However, Carl was having none of it and decided to make a break for his truck. Grabbing his clothes and shoes from the ground, he started to run toward the old Chevy. Even half drunk, Dan Brown was too quick and too big for him. The 220 lb. [100 kg] Marine veteran blocked Carl's path to the truck and easily intercepted him. Then, he hoisted the struggling 165 lb. [75 kg] teen off the ground and easily tossed him over his shoulder and held him there..

"Looks like someone needs a lesson in behavior," said Larry wiping beer drool from his mouth. Then turning back to Jim he asked "You still got those ropes and pulleys in the barn ceiling? I think stringing Carl up to those while we shave him would be a good idea, particularly if he's gonna try to run off on us."

"Well, yes, they're still up there. You sure you want to do this?" questioned Jim.

"D**n straight," replied Larry. "He's the one who's been wanting to come over here. Now that there's some part of it that he doesn't like is no reason to back out."

With that, Jim Thornton went over to the side of the barn and untied a couple of ropes that were secured to one of the uprights. From the dark above the barn lights two pulleys could barely be seen as two ropes were slowly lowered into the light. Each rope ended in padded cuffs that were obviously intended for holding a man or a boy's arms over his head. When these were about six feet [1.80 m] off the ground, Dan Brown walked over and deposited the naked, squirming boy on the ground below the ropes. Larry joined him and together they secured Carl's hands in the cuffs. Then Larry himself went over to the upright where the ropes were tied and pulled them up and secured them in such a way that they left Carl with his arms over his head and his feet barely touching the ground.

Larry then reached over on a rack on the wall and picked up a spacer made of wood that was about 30 inches [80 cm] long with padded cuffs on each end. He then brought this back to where Carl was gently swinging back and forth while dangling in the middle of the barn. Dan and he dropped the spacer at Carl's feet and then got down and secured the boy's ankles in the cuffs. Dan Brown completed securing Carl by placing a piece of tape over the boy's mouth. This left Carl completely exposed and unable to move or speak in his restraints. From where I stood, it looked like a tear had run down the Mexican boy's face, but somehow he managed not to breakdown completely in his humiliating situation.

Larry walked around his spread-eagled son looking at him with obvious lust in his drunken eyes. When he was directly behind the boy, he stopped. Then, he slowly ran his left hand over the boy's back and bubble butt.

"I told you not to come over here unless you were ready to participate in the fun. You need to learn to mind me," barked Larry in a tone of voice that did nothing to hide his displeasure with his teen-aged son.

Suddenly, Larry inserted the middle index finger of his right hand up the boy's rectum. In one swift motion his middle digit went all the way into the boy's butt up to the knuckle. Even with the tape on his mouth, Carl could be heard gasping and then there was a muffled scream as he was violated by his own father. 'Was this he first time that this had happened to Carl?' I silently wondered.

Larry turned to Dan Brown and said "Hey Dan, How about you giving Carl here a few good ones with my belt to let him know who's boss? I want to see his face as he gets his butt whipped or I would do it myself."

The low buzzing sound caught Larry's attention as Jim Thornton produced the clippers from the workbench at the side of the barn.

"What do you say if you're going to shave him, we do that first?" suggested Jim.

Carl squirmed in his bonds and somehow managed to get the tape half off his mouth. "No! Please don't shave my pubic hair off! What about school? What about the other guys on my team? Nobody shaves their pubes! Nobody! They'll think I'm queer."

Larry looked at Jim and said "What the Hell, do it. When you're finished we'll have him wrestle Kyle. That ought to be a good match."

Jim, unlike his friends was still steady on his feet. He walked over to the dangling, naked Mexican boy and re-attached the tape on his mouth. Then he started to work on Carl's armpits. In short order the hair in the boy's pits was gone. Then he turned his attention to the boy's pubes. From where I stood, I could see Carl's belly quiver with a few last spasms as the shaver slowly plowed through his pubic hair. Carl could do nothing as he watched helpless as he was slowly but surely denuded of his body hair.

When Jim had shaved off the last of the boy's pubic hair, he turned to Larry and asked "Want me to shave his butt as well? He's got a lot of hair there as well."

"Yeah, get it too," answered the drunken man.

Jim continued shaving concentrating on Carl's well-rounded butt. When he had finished, he ran his hand over the freshly shaved areas to make sure that he had gotten everything. Then he produced an old fashioned shaving mug and coated Carl's armpits, butt, and pubic area with lather. Using a safety razor, in only a couple of minutes more, he had removed all traces of the boy's body hair.

Carl's penis looked huge, once there was no longer any hair in which it could hide. He dangled from the ropes swaying back and forth with sweat glistening on his olive-hued muscular young body. All of this touching and feeling of his body plus holding his penis while he was being shaved had had its effect on Carl. His organ had swollen to its full almost 6 inch [15 cm] erect length. From his reaction to having his penis touched, my guess was that whatever molesting of his son that Larry might have been doing was confined to his butt. I also remember thinking at the time that his penis looked like one of those brown bananas that they call 'plantains'.

Dan Brown walked over to the young Latino boy and ran his hand over his naked chest and belly much as he had done to me on his arrival. Then his other hand clasped the boy's erect penis and began a slow, stroking motion. I could see Carl wince as he was slowly being masturbated by the older man.

"Hey, Larry. Ok if I play with Carl for a few minutes?" asked Dan.

"Sure Dan. What the Hell, why not?" stammered a drunken Larry.

At one side of the barn was a large wooden frame constructed of four by fours. It looked like the square frame for a gazebo with the uprights about six feet [1.80 m] high and six feet [1.80 m] apart. It might also have been the framework for a child's swing set were it not for the ropes that descended from pulleys at the top of the frame that ended in padded leather cuffs.

"How about we put Carl on 'The Machine' and give him a real thrill? We can break him in right. What do you say, Larry? You can even be first," said the big guy.

Larry thought for a minute. You could see that it was an effort as the alcohol was taking affect on his mind. "Why not?" stammered Larry as he wiped more beer drool from his wickedly grinning mouth.

With that, Dan Brown lowered Carl to the ground and unfastened the cuffs around his ankles and wrists. Then, he grabbed Carl around the waist and easily lifted him off the barn floor. Kurt Schneider followed the two over to the wooden framework where Dan put the boy down on his naked butt in the middle of the space at the bottom of the contraption. Then the two of them took the padded cuffs and wrapped them around his wrists and ankles.

Even though I wasn't sure what was happening, I knew it probably involved Carl providing sex to someone against his will. I shuddered to think that if he had not showed up and reacted the way that he had, I would probably be the one trying out 'The Machine' this particular evening.

As I continued to watch both fascinated and yet repelled by the scene, once the cuffs were in place, the ropes were pulled taught lifting Carl off the ground so that he hung there in mid-air with his arms and legs supporting his weight. Dan adjusted the four ropes so that Carl's butt was at just the right height for them to look right at the Latino boy's hole. As he swung there, the pulleys were pushed apart on the supporting bar much like you would adjust the rungs on a shower curtain. When they had finished, Carl's legs were far apart and his butt was a waiting target. Just to make sure that he didn't make too much noise, they forced a rag into the boy's mouth and taped it in place.

"Since Carl is new at this, I think that we had better start on the boy with the guy with the smallest pecker and work up," laughed Jim almost spilling his beer. "Larry, I think that ought to be you. That is, unless you don't want to do it to kin."

Larry Jones put down his beer and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Then, he stumbled as he tossed his ball cap over on one of the shelves along the barn wall. As he approached 'The Machine' where his son's butt was waiting, he stripped off his sweat-streaked tee shirt and started to unfasten his jeans. When he got directly in front of the suspended boy, he dropped his pants to his knees and felt his hardening penis. Pre-cum dripped from his manhood as he anticipated thrusting it into the boy. I could see that his eyes were glazed and some drool dripped down the left side of his mouth. Carl struggled in his rope constraints, but it was of no use and the gag effectively stifled any pleading that he might have done to escape being raped by the drunken man.

I remember thinking 'I've got to get out of this place or that will be me the next time these drunks get together'.

Chapter VII
Surprise

"We're Federal agents. Jim Thornton, you're under arrest for violating the Marijuana Tax Act of 1937," barked the older of the two plainclothes men. "That big field of marijuana out there is an illegal substance and besides, you haven't paid any taxes on your harvest from that weed."

So that was what was in the field of 'hemp' that we boys didn't need to weed! Now it all made sense. No wonder Uncle Jim didn't want us in there.

"What the Hell is this?" one of the uniformed policemen said, gesturing at the naked boy trussed up on the machine. "Last time I looked, screwing a kid in the butt was also illegal. The rest of you men are also under arrest on suspicion of sodomizing a minor."

Two of the policemen rushed over to the machine and lowered Carl to the ground and unfastened his restraints. Carl broke down and sobbed convulsively in the arms of one of the policemen as the other one handed him his clothes from the barn floor.

Before it was all over, all four of the men were in hand-cuffs and loaded onto a police transport van that had gotten almost to the clearing in front of the farm house without being noticed by Uncle Jim or any of his 'guests'. We three boys were escorted back to the bunk house and instructed to get dressed. Then, along with Carl, we were loaded into a squad car and taken back to the county court house and jail.

The fact that Jim Thornton's brother was the county judge did him no good that night. In fact, it probably hurt him since the reporter for the local newspaper who was on duty that night immediately made the connection. He then called in the story of how the county judge's brother had been arrested in a drugs and sex raid on his farm.

Three of the men were booked and released on bail by the night court, but Jim Thornton was not among them. As a Federal prisoner, the Federal agents asked that he be held over for the regular court the next day. All four of us boys were sent in temporary custody to the juvenile facility located there in the city. It seems that Judge Thornton had been bypassing that in favor of sending boys out to his brother's farm for slave labor and God knows what else. His story about going to the farm or to jail had been a ruse to get us to go along willingly with the idea of spending time on the farm.

Chapter VIII
Epilogue

As for us boys, we all went our separate ways. From what I heard, Carl was re-united with his mother in San Diego while Sam and Jerry went home to their parents there in the city. As for me, it seems that I really did have relatives after all. My father had a brother who lived in Butler County, Missouri outside of Poplar Bluff. He only learned about me because of all of the publicity in the news about the scandal and trial. He and his wife had no children of their own and took me in and gave me a home. Of course this was all sixty years ago and this is just what I remember of that naked summer on the farm all those years ago.

The End

The Marihuana Tax Act of 1937, Pub. 238, 75th Congress, 50 Stat. 551 (Aug. 2, 1937) was a United States Act that placed a tax on the sale of cannabis. The act was drafted by Harry Anslinger and introduced by Rep. Robert L. Doughton of North Carolina, on April 14, 1937. The Act is now commonly referred to using the modern spelling as the 1937 Marijuana Tax Act. This act was overturned in 1969 in Leary v. United States, and was repealed by Congress the next year.