Tool-Shed Memoires

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Author's note: I submit this chapter in memory of ben tover, aka h.s., aka Hank Snow. We were working on the remaining parts of this story when he took ill. He was also doing the editing which is why there has been such a long delay in posting the rest of this story. Unfortunately, he never recovered. I was able to recover these remaining chapters and am attempting to edit them. I hope that you continue to enjoy his humor which borders on zany and his brilliance shown in his method to learn how to spell. If this chapter brings a smile to your face please consider lighting a candle
http://www.gratefulness.org/candles/candles.cfm?l=eng&gi=HankS in memory of Hank and say a little prayer that the Saints in Heaven are now enjoying the Hank Snow show and laughing the halos off!

[Author's note: Readers may be interested in knowing that hank snow wrote every other line of this story. He was an exuberant writer and I tried helping him to learn to control his wild bronco-like mind. At the same time he was trying to teach me the elementary English grammar that I have yet to learn.]

The by-proxy impalement of Adam was not noticed by the recipient, who was far too interested in the proximate cause of his anal pleasure, Mark's Saturn-Five Thruster, although Mark, himself, was unable to ignore the insertion, and yelped out in pain-pleasure at the thoughtfulness of his new Boss, for thinking of him in that way ... Sandy just had a way of making a ranch-hand feel so ... well cum.

Adam was surprised, too, that he was enjoying this love-fest so intensely. Just yesterday, he'd seen a news report about a Gay-Pride Parade and thought how disgusting it would be to have sex with a man ... and now he found himself in a veritable orgy, not knowing which sensation was more pleasurable. While truly in love with the mother of his children, he was discovering that the forbidden fruit wasn't so bitter after all.

Flemming was delighted at Adam's innate abilities as A Man's Best Buddy, and continued guiding the hunky lad's head to assist him in learning technique and so forth.

Woody, however, knew that his turn at Adam would be some time in ... coming ... so he'd gone off to the pantry in search of a snack ... and James was there, looking very edible, indeed. Before James could speak the words which his tongue was already forming, the Woodster not-too-gently pressed his shoulders down, driving James to his knees ... as was proper. James let instinct take over, and extracted Woody's root-vegetable from the crisper-drawer of Woody's jeans, and proceeded to prepare it for the cream-sauce topping he had in mind.

While, Flemming and the his merry side kicks provided Jerry with continued education, and Woody woodpecked his pecker into James whole wheat soufflé, in rode deputy sheriff Henny Higgens on his hog motorcycle singing, "the rain in Spain."

James, as always, was extremely eager to prove his worth to Woody, and his Wood pecker ... why, Pinocchio could have been no prouder of his own wood pecker ... and Flemming was in the heights of glory attending to the former Officer Jerry ... Mark and Josh were having a precious and bittersweet reunion with an old high-school buddy, William Queene, who'd dropped out of their lives years ago and was now naked in the oubliette, awaiting his destiny, and Mark and Josh were not about to let ´auld lang syne´ stand in the way of the important lessons they needed to impart to him for his recent sins on the job.

Since no one was around to receive officer Higgens, seeing that the front door of the ranch house was open, he let himself in. What he saw next made his hairs stand on edge. Mr. Flemming, Senator Craig told me that his ranch is a good place for Republicans against same sex marriage, to meet with other's who think likewise, but I can see that he must have been mistaken.

The ex-officer Queene was looking at his former classmates, and he smiled, thinking that this was going to turn out well, after all, since the three all knew each other. But he was sadly and painfully mistaken, as was made apparent to him by the Taser to the balls that Mark administered, and the following nut-squeeze Josh reached down and gave him. It took less than a minute to wipe the smile from his face and replace it with a howling grimace of pain and new understanding.

"You are surprised that a Republican is wrong about something? Said Flemming mocking the officer. "Didn't you hear that that two faced hypocrite, speaking with a forked tongue, was just arrested for propositioning a undercover cop in the bathroom at the airport.?"

"So, can you tell how good a book is by its cover?" Sandy asked rhetorically. "Put you pecker inside the covers of this ass and then tell me if you like how the story works out or not.

Queene still didn't know why he, and the other officers he'd seen, were being held here in this place ... but it was clear that this was not Club Med and they had not won some deluxe prize-package ... unless pain was a highly-sought-after treasure. Mark gestured to him to stand up, and Josh released his balls so he could comply. He found himself suspended from the ceiling by his wrists, his legs spread apart by a metal rod about four feet long.

While Queene was still trying to sort out the difference between Sandals and Club Med, Higgens was trying to differentiate between so called disgust and wholesome curiosity as he looked into the black hole that Sandy just vacated.

"Go ahead officer Higgens, you may find your fair lady in there!" Flemming said sarcastically.

"Oh no, you can't fool me, my minister said that if I did anything so perverse as that, I would be changed into a pillar of salt, and I can feel a part of me turning into stone already!" Higgens said, "And besides if I did that I would want to see his face."

Higgins was on the very threshold of an epiphany which would rock his Republican sensibilities to their foundations ... but Queene was not being allowed such a Republican transition period. But rather, was having his legs raised, putting him into an elevated, sitting position, exposing his nether-regions very well for the use (and abuse) of both Mark and Josh, who wasted no time at all in driving the stool-sample extractor deep within his seemingly previously-virgin shit-chute, much to the roaring delight of the victim. Josh, of course, couldn't resist trying out a few swats at the suspended balls before him ... which seemed to be moaning, 'Hit us! Hit us!'

Back in the pantry, James was experimenting with a new recipe for love. Chuck had his wooden spoon already in James' Kitchen Aid mixing bowl of a rectum and was helping stir the concoction. "Oh yea, daddy, give it some more agitation and I teach you how to be a real prep chef." James whined. "You sure know how to make my cherries jubilee!"

Queene's wrists, shoulders and arms were getting mightily sore from the suspense, but Josh was having so much fun with his balls that he and Mark decided to let him hang there a while longer, and Mark proceeded to get the needed blood-sample from the dangling ex-guard. Josh persisted in his playful attack on those fascinatingly dangling orbs, trying so very hard to communicate with them using his hands.

"Flemming, the Captain always said that you are a twisted fuck." Higgens exclaimed as Sandy pulled him into the bed room and threw himself on the bed, face up.

"Come on, Officer, we all know you´re just dying to park in my no parking zone. Being a naughty boy, when you know that you can get away with it, is such fun." Sandy said seductively as he spread his legs for the long arm of the law.

Josh was still captivated ... Queene was still in hell ... Mark was trying to figure out the best way to extract a sperm-sample from the victim, and decided to let Josh suck his balls and insert a gloved finger into his fuck-chute, driving him right up to cumming, and then stop ... over and over ... so that when he was allowed to cum, he would do so with the power of a hydrogen bomb.

"Doesn't matter. Just don't stop, until it's completely creamed and swirls up all around,” James said, content that Woodrow was following his directives so closely, and attending to the finer details of the culinary arts.

Higgins (to get back to the house) was sorely tempted by the visage of Sandy's nubile and youthful ass-lips, and his now exposed schwanz was hardening to the task at hand. Sandy watched over his shoulder expectantly, wondering if the gendarme would actually step up to the plate and hit a home-run ... or strike out. [No parking Zone – reserved for mixed metaphors].

Higgins approached the plate somewhat anxiously, tried to find his balance while kneeling between Sandy's bent and raised legs, moved his bat, back and forth a few times and then set in for the tense pitcher vs. batter combat. Higgens yearned to hit his first ever home run. Sandy was determined to catch the pitch cleanly right over the base. Higgens thrust forward, his balls jerked forward and his bat flew deep into Sandy's first base.

Sandy was awestruck by the athleticism demonstrated by the rookie at bat ... and roared his encouragement ... until Flemming, who'd wandered in from the font room, straddled his face and put an end to such noise by ramming another bat into Sandy, this one flying deep into center field. Sandy was sandwiched between the two batters, effectively neutralized, as they each sought to demonstrate their swings to the lad. It was all he could do to stay conscious, he was so caught up in the sports jargon being bandied about by the two enthused authorial fans.

Meanwhile the boys in the pantry were still concocting their own love potion mixing their body fluids orally and anally while baking bread sticks with which to dip in their house undressing prepared especially for the novice guests that had unwittingly wandered onto the ranch-O-oubliette.

Woody was obviously consumed with passion for the fruit known as James, and his passion-fruit was ever erect at the mere thought of the chef. James was equally enamored of the ranch-hand stud, and his soufflé always managed to rise a few extra inches just thinking about him, and his approach to the art of finesse-free love-making.

Once James, the master chef, was completely subservient to his apprentice, Woody directed the iron hard chef to make a special pate as an appetizer so as to woo the prisoners into a jail house frenzy as they would begin to detect the aroma of the pork sausage a la cum hors d'oeuvres meant to work as a mild aphrodisiac that would be used to incite their interest in adapting themselves to their new functions as sex slaves trained to entertain any and all visitors to the Flemming ranch.

James was more than bursting with eagerness to please his new-found raison d'être and jumped into action, preparing the hors d'oeuvres as if his life depended on doing his very best. Supplying enough cum was a task the two could have done themselves, as aroused as they were in each other's company, but they wandered out into the living room and bedroom, to collect donations from the cast of thousands presently populating those venues, and soon had sufficient of the luxurious fluid to finish the piéce de resistánce.

Meanwhile in the living room, Adam was considering divorcing himself from his Eve, who although provided him with children had never even came close to make him want to renounce his fig leaf, much less shuck his GP innocence nor attend to his front drive and rear alignments as Mark was attending with remarkable aplomb as Josh was attempting to stimulate his Adam's apple.

Out in the oubliette, we find that the natives are getting restless ... and, sure enough, the alarm-klaxon went off, as a few intrepid souls tried to make an escape from their hellish imprisonment. The ruckus of the alarm caused Woody's own soufflé to flop, and Higgin's, surprised by the racket, nearly removed Sandy's tonsils with a most unexpected thrust up the young Man's happy-hole ... and in the living room, the noise had shocked Mark into a premature ejaculation up Adam's pleasure portal ... it was a most unwelcome coital interruption!

The whole gang, including the unexpected visitors, went running toward the barn when suddenly Sandy turned toward Josh and said, "You distract that cop, and make sure he doesn't follow us down into the tool shed shaft."

"Good thinking Sandy, but what about Adam?" Flemming asked between pants and he gulped air as he ran toward the oubliette.

"Oh, I don' t think he will be the first nor the last man to discover what a veritable paradise we have created down there." Sandy replied.

Reaching the barn, all hands waited for Sandy to arrive, to lead them in the quelling of this insurrection, and once he got there, he made short work of any confusion which might have been in their minds, quickly giving out well-choreographed orders, each man then knowing his assigned task and position in this potential melée.

"Damn twice in one day! We have really got to organize ourselves with regard to the internal security of this training camp. I want each of you to connect each prisoner's cock to one of them der cow milkers. That should settle them down!"

Is there an extra one of those gizmos for me and Mark to use in the kitchen?" James said shyly and Mark blushed a raspberry red!

Sandy had no time ... or patience ... for the apparently-soon-to-be-wed couple's silliness ... only for his own ... and said, “Ask Flemming after we quell this-here gol-durned insurrection! Damn, I wish I could just leave my freakin' dictionary back at the house!!!” making a non-veiled reference to the two writers making his life so miserable with their $64 words. He added, “You two better get used to using bag-balm, though ... them milking machines'll tear yer cocks off if yer not careful!” and then blushed, realizing the confession he'd just (accidentally) made.

Josh ran interference so that Officer Higgens didn't follow the others to check on the alarm. He grabbed the young cop and said, "I have never been with a man in uniform. Why don' t you come over to the bunk house and show me your pistol. I'LL bet its a real straight shooter."

Higgins was up for anything even remotely related to the second amendment, and said, “That sounds real good, there, sport! Maybe I could show you my weapon AND my gun!” and here he waggled his eye-brows, Groucho Marx-style. Josh was very happy that the distraction had worked ... and very happy the young cop was 'on-board' ... so far ... and he looked forward to having a great time in the bunk-house with Higgins!

It turned out that it was just a faulty switch in the alarm system and all the neo slaves were secured and accounted for. However, no one rescinded Sandy' s orders and so the hapless ex guards were soon mooing contentedly as their man milk was extracted from them.

It only took two men, at most, to Man the milking machine. Adam volunteered, much to the total shock of those who'd been looking forward to getting to know the new addition better. But cooler heads prevailed, and Woody and Mark were left behind, as Sandy felt that the 'Woody-James Nuptials' were moving along just a bit too briskly. He knew that Josh could have a great time helping (and soothing) James in the kitchen, and felt that Woody and Mark would discover kindred spirits within each other, given this (relatively) private time together.

Back at the bunkhouse, Officer Henry Higgins was giving josh a demonstration on how effective his handcuffs were for demobilizing unwilling suspects. He had the boy cuffed to the legs of a wooden table with his butt exposed as he was getting ready to show him the art of loading a weapon.

Once back in the pantry, James began to pine away at the loss of his belovéd Woody, his eyes tearing up, but Josh simply and efficiently pushed him to his knees ... which was proper ... and took command of the chef's throat, with lightning speed and military precision, utterly erasing the dark cloud which had been forming over the his heart. James sprang into action as only a devoted sub can do, and Josh was rewarded with oral action the likes of which have seldom been recorded in this story.

In Sandy's (formerly Flemming's) bedroom, both Adam and Flemming were on their knees on the bed, asses up, and both rose-buds facing Sandy's rosebud-starved eyes, and he quickly rose to the buds, plunging into Adam forcefully, and fucking him for a while, and then switching over to Flemming, and doing the same. He figured, 'Variety is the spice of life!' and although two does not really constitute much variety, it beats the heck out of what most of the readers of this epic are doing right now.

Milking machines churning, men pumping asses, others in cuffs and being introduced to the finer subtleties of bdsm lite, authors pounding away at keys, readers trying to wank and read at the same time, all saw Officer Higgin' s cloud of dust as he rode his hog back towards town and contented that if anything funny was going on out at Flemming's it was all happening in the Kitchen with James' outlandish recipes for cream custard.

Mark was glad to be able to spend some quality time with the always-studly Woody, and this stint manning the milking-machine was a perfect opportunity for it. Woody was already rubbing his cock and giving him that special, mind-boggling grin which could melt any Man's heart, and Mark, who liked to think of himself as a Top, was succumbing to the siren-song-like allure of this cowboy. Woody was so utterly confident that his charms would bend Mark to his way of thinking that it never once occurred to him that things might actually turn out differently. Mark was still vacillating, but was close to begging for permission to come aboard. The two powerfully-willed Men just tried to postpone talking, as this battle of wills took its course, in silence.

James turned his attention to the main course for dinner and kept eyeing Josh's crotch and wondering what it would be like to bring his meat up to a boil.

"Ummmm, maybe the boys would go for some nice Italian sausage and fried peppers." He said and waited for Josh's reaction.

"That would be great! I love stuffing my mouth with sausage! But how about some German style kraut to accompany it?" Josh answered.

“I'll have to make homemade-sausage ... can you help me stuff my intestines?" James asked, hurling a not-so-indirect indiscretion in Josh's direction.

In the oubliette, Mark was starting to wonder how good it might feel, stuffing this muscular ranch-hand's ass for him, and he liked the way it made his cock feel, just thinking about it. Woody, on the other hand, was biding his time, waiting for Mark to come to the inevitable decision to service him ... as he wished ... but it was puzzling to Woody that Mark was taking so long to ask him for permission to suck his cock, and his confidence was starting to ebb, just a bit. So the wordless combat continued, unresolved for the moment.

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.