Tool-Shed Memoires
By: Dick Eberhard & ben tover
(© 2007 by the authors)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

 

Once in the shower, Sandy felt it was his responsibility to maintain his new, and somewhat tentative, hold on Flemming, so he said, “Get on your knees, Flemming, and serve from there ... you've no business standing as an equal with free Men!” and he gave the old Man's balls a lightning-fast and vicious backhand to make his point crystal-clear, gratified immediately by the resulting shriek and collapse of the former Master of this dungeon, as he fell to his knees before Sandy and, once the waves of agonized nausea passed, begged for forgiveness.

Both younger men, backed their asses into Flemming's face and he rotated, licking each clean and exploring their love-chutes moving his tongue as far into each as he could manage. He was probably the most surprised, at his age, to find himself erect again so soon, but as fate would have it, he wasn't going to be allowed to satisfy his new urge, not that night anyway.

 Chapter 6

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Sandy woke with a smile, the sunlight warming his bare ass as it shone through the window, heralding a beautiful day and giving him pause for reflection on last night's life-changing events. He, of course, began making plans for the 'disposition' of a certain Mr Flemming.

The clanging of the triangle woke all the ranch-hands with a start. Mark rolled over, after a fitful, sleepless night. He couldn't figure out where Sandy and Josh had disappeared to ... it made him feel like a third wheel, and he resented not being included ... being left, feeling abandoned, unappreciated ... and feeling considerably jealous of the other two.

Sandy opened his own eyes, shocked and tired. He thought he'd woken earlier and was already up, but now, having heard the clang of the bell, he realized he'd been dreaming, and how short a sleep he'd had after the previous night's games.

Fleming awoke with a crick in his neck, finding himself lying uncomfortably, with his torso on an old, worn easy-chair and his legs on a bench, down below the tool-shed.

He was feeling extremely confused ... he'd been Topped by a mere stripling-kid, and he'd actually liked it ... he worried about how he'd handle his first encounter with the boy later in the day, and whether or not he could bluster his way through it ... or would succumb, once again, to the boy's amazing charisma and power.

Sandy had no intention of taking over the running of the ranch ... he'd be far too occupied, planting his seed in each and every cowboy that Flemming employed. However, he'd been thinking, for some time, of opening the place up, into a sort of gay-bondage dude-ranch. His plan was to not ask Flemming's permission, but rather, to just go ahead, and if the old geezer had any objections ... well, he'd just stuff his schlong down the old man's nagging esophagus.

But, at the moment, he had a most urgent need to attend to, and headed to the shower to get busy and “get 'er done” ... he hoped he'd run into James, Flemming's cook and man-servant, because he would rather be served than to have to jack off ... but he found the bathroom (without seeing James) right down the hall from Flemming's bedroom, where he'd had a great night's sleep, and he was rather surprised at the size of the bathroom, and the size of the shower-stall ... it could easily hold twelve sweaty Men ... something he'd not be forgetting.

It occurred to him that the shower-room could easily be transformed into an in-house 'wet-dungeon' of sorts, or perhaps a sauna. He was just about ready to rinse the soap off his finely-tuned bod, when James appeared in the doorway and, surprised to see Sandy, told him that breakfast was served.

"James, come in here and do my back!" Sandy ordered.

Not knowing what to make of the young cow-hand in his Master's shower, James, fully dressed, walked into the shower-room and, without flinching, began soaping up Sandy's back, feeling his taut, smooth skin.

Sandy was immensely gratified that this event had been pulled off with no attitude problems or unnecessary chit-chat from this servant, and reveled at the strength and knowledge the servant possessed, as he not only soaped up Sandy's back, but somehow managed to make it a deep, penetrating massage as well, causing the young Master to sigh repeatedly in bliss.

"James, I want your cream with my coffee, so strip off those wet clothes and be quick about it!" imperiously ordered the young whippersnapper of a Master.

"Cumming right up,Sir!" James delightedly replied.

James wasted not a second more than was necessary to comply with this fascinating young Man's order, and in a trice was butt-naked and smilingly awaiting the young stud's next command, with a hard-on (of epic proportions) bobbling betwixt his legs to demonstrate his eagerness to serve.

Sandy pulled James, a man whom he'd admired (or rather, lusted after) for years, into his arms, and they both began to French-kiss, while their hot cocks were pressed between them, exuding more heat than there was in the shower-water.

James did know that something big was happening, both in his new Master's crotch and in his own life, but was content, as would a Man of service be, to simply let events unfold ... he lost himself in the spit-swapping frenzy with the stud, reveling in the flood of exciting and stimulating feelings he was being treated to under the steady downpour of hot shower-water.

Just as they began to loose themselves in a deep state of passionate kissing, Mark came in, looking for Flemming. He was not prepared for what he saw in the shower, and after staring for a moment in utter awe, turned and ran out of the Ranch-house, totally confused. Sandy called after his former fellow-cowboy, but Mark never heard him.

Mark got himself out of the house as fast as he could, not sure exactly what he was feeling ... it might have been any one of several emotions, but at the top of the list were jealousy, disgust and abandonment ... but he'd not gotten as far as the white-picket fence surrounding Flemming's small ranch-house when his heart told him to return and to confront his own demons ... and Sandy.

On the way, he ran into Josh. "Josh, you won't believe what I just saw happening in Flemming's house! Sandy and James were stark-naked in his shower and kissing!"

"Holy shit, that boy moves fast! Just last night he porked ol' man Flemming, and now it looks like he's working his way down the line... I reckon he won't be happy till he fucks everyone who ever teased him about being the youngest cowboy on the spread!"

Mark was now stunned again ... his buddy, Josh, had only occasionally made thinly-veiled references to his hanky-panky with Flemming, and Mark had never once spoken to him about his own dealings with the ranch owner ... he said, “Shit! Are you serious? Where the fuck's Flemming now??? Sandy didn't...” and he stopped, horrified at what he'd been about to ask.

Meanwhile, Sandy continued his plunder of James' hidden treasures. Using liquid-soap for lubrication, Sandy entered the sanctuary which, up till now, had been reserved only for the high-priest, Flemming. James, who was a virgin to young erect cock, howled in various languages, none of which was sufficient to describe the unutterable pleasure he was now experiencing, as Sandy stole his cherry ... kinda.

(Truth be told, liquid-soap was a wretched excuse for a lubricant, but James was not about to kvetch about something that trivial while receiving such a fucking from this Man.)

As the two of them were melding in unbounded passion, Mark had panicked ... again ... and, having headed at a full-out run for the bunk-house to get his things, was now bound, on foot, into the far recesses of the ranch. He needed time to formulate a plan, a plan which would put Flemming and his sick perversions far behind him forever. His mind was in an absolute uproar ... fearful ... but of what, he didn't quite know.

As Mark pushed his jeans and extra shirts into his too-small valise, Sandy crammed his swollen cock deep into James' love-canal. James threw his head back each time Sandy's straight-as-an-arrow-cock rammed into his prostate, sending pangs of joy into the farthest recesses of his body.

Mark was determined to preserve his dignity ... staying, and letting his former and younger friend, Sandy, pillage his body, was simply not an option for him ... and as he walked, his fury and sense of outraged and self-righteous indignation grew, making him oblivious to the damage the new, not-yet-broken-in boots he'd changed into were doing to his feet.

Flemming finally finished his quick, solitary shower, and was now coming out of the tool-shed, when he passed Mark walking by, carrying his valise. "Ẃhere the hell ya think you're going?" asked Flemming, now beginning to feel that his life's work was crumbling down around him.

"As far as my feet can take me! This place is turning into Sodom and Gomorrah, and I'm getting out ... before we all turn into pillars of salt!" Matt yelled at his boss.

While Sandy was filling James' fuck-chute with red-hot seed, Flemming was trying to come up with some kind of response to what Mark had just spewed out at him, and Mark, for his part, had no earthly interest in hanging around long enough to hear the old Man's tainted and perverted opinions about anything.

Sandy's man-juice was emptying into James' receptive butt-hole, making the servant flail about (due to his own anal-orgasm), as Mark passed through the main gate, feeling sorry for himself ... feeling abused and not appreciated by the others ...he felt as if no one cared whether he were alive or dead, and as far as he was concerned, 'They can all go to hell!'

Flemming had almost reached his house as James was finishing the wash-down of his new Master, Sandy ... Mark was headed towards the wooded hills to the south of the house ... and Josh had just entered Flemming's house, looking for something interesting (he was hoping to find Sandy and James doing the nasty, and his cock was hard just thinking about it).

"I see you've made yourself right at home in my house," Flemming said to Sandy, as he followed Josh into the Ranch house.

"Yeah ... I find it a lot more appropriate that I should be in here, now that I'm the alpha-male," Sandy replied, pleasantly. "Come on and have some coffee with me ... I want to discuss some ideas that I have for the place," Sandy said invitingly to Flemming.

"That'd be fine, but one of your ranch hands just went through the main gate. Just thought you might not want to let Mark get away so easily."

The words were no sooner out of Flemming's cock-sucking mouth than Sandy ran out the door toward the barn, to saddle-up one of Flemming' s horses.

Flemming laughed and sat down and began to enjoy Sandy's breakfast.

To be continued...

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Posted: 11/02/07

Dear Readers: Please cut and paste and send to the authors, so that they may better serve you all in the future!

(  ) I enjoy the deep philosophical underpinnings of this parable.

(  ) I was moved by the metaphysical analogy between Flemming representing the status quo of a complacent government and the growing unity of third-world nations in their global concern over the warming of the planet.

(  ) Forget the political critique and get back to the pure sex for which you are both are famous. Love your other stories on Nifty.

(  ) I prefer to read more about cowboys out on the range where the buffalo roam.

(  ) I can't answer this poll because my hands are covered with Vaseline and I don't want to mess up the keyboard.

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