The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts
Volume II

By: Nicholas Hall
(© 2021-2022 by the author)

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

nhall@tickiestories.us

Chapter 4
The War Years

 “Our first meeting with Paul Ramos and Tommy Tomayo was not encouraging. In fact, Gio and I were close to ending the meeting with a knife and a shotgun.”

(The Private Journals of Isaiah Watts) 

War was declared and the Unites States started gearing up, putting the nation on a war footing. Production in war materials and those other items needed to prosecute a war received a priority. Food and other essentials, such as cloth for uniforms and leather for boots, gas, and coal were just a few items Americans were asked to conserve. It became a way of life, as well as suffering defeat, in those early years, in the Pacific, even with some minor victories.

December, 1941 was not a good month in many ways. Not only was Hawaii attacked, but Luzon, Philippines, fell; Hong Kong was invaded, and Wake Island surrendered.

In February, under pressure from Congress and American Nationalist, President Roosevelt ordered the internment of all persons of Japanese Ancestry on the West Coast, U.S. citizens as well eventually, men, women, and children. It’d prove to be a gross disregard for human and civil rights as well, as thinly disguised racism!

The propaganda machine in the United States was at full speed, drumming up patriotic fervor and dispensing hate of the enemy. Caricatures appeared on posters and in film clips with grossly over-portrayed facial and other physical features demeaning the enemies and, in the case of Asians, insulted those who had nothing to do with the war. Racism was alive and well, almost to the point of encouraging discrimination and outright prejudice! Beatings, refusal of service, and other acts of violence and hostility happened now to Asians and was exacerbated with African-Americans.

David Watts, on behalf of himself and his brothers, approached Conley with the proposition of plowing up twenty acres of ground to plant potatoes in exchange for a share of the proceeds received above the cost of planting and harvest. The soil they decided on was relatively light, not heavy black loam like most of Iowa, so root crops, such as potatoes, carrots, and others would grow well.

“Potatoes keep well,” David mentioned, “and a few will feed a lot of people if need be.”

He also bargained with Conley to pasture a few more beef cattle in exchange for processed beef from one. Caring for them would be up to Isaiah and Gio since they’d be around taking care of their hogs and the additional hogs and steers Conley added to the farm. The two teens had no objections since they were planning, under advisement from Conley, to double the size of their swine herd. They also saw the opportunity to make some bucks, most of it in direct sales to customers who wanted to by-pass any government controls or rationing if it’d come to that. Conley told them there’d be no doubt it would since England was pretty well rationed before the American involvement in the war.

True to his prediction, rationing of gasoline, sugar, and other products began in the Spring. David and the others were happy they had their planning session the previous year. Armies need supplies and supplies come from the military/industrial complexes enhanced by domestic production of those items. Residents of Decker’s Corner believed in their own people and all stockpiled essentials they thought they might need. Plans were made to expand home gardens, referred to now as “Victory Gardens,” as well as keeping milk cows, chickens, ducks, geese, turkeys, and other small animals where they could, if they had the space. The adults lived through the Depression and were used to hard times. They younger generation soon grew to accept it as normal.

If you listened to the various hopeful “wags” and others who really should know better, the war wasn’t going to last very long. Hopes were high for an early end to the conflict with the accompanying reduction of losses. However, there were others who were more confident this conflict would go on for some time and loses on all sides was to be horrific!

In March of 1942, Roosevelt ordered all men between the ages of forty-five and sixty-five to register for non-military duty. All men ages twenty-one were required to register for the draft. It was also this month the United States moved those of Japanese ancestry to detention centers, uprooting lives, livelihoods, and families, in some cases, tearing those families apart. There were those who sought to seek safe havens for their young to protect them from the ravages of war or domestic policies of internment and discrimination.

Gio and Isaiah had less than two months to go before graduating from Logansport High School. The future was uncertain, tenuous at best, considering it was rumored the United States was considering lowering the draft age to eighteen. Gio was now nineteen and Isaiah eighteen. Both studied and did well in Accounting, Bookkeeping, and Economics , intending to make careers in some field of finance. Isaiah desired finding an accounting position somewhere close but also was interested in real estate sales and management. Geo held similar interests but also looked at investment brokerage.

Before the war began, entering their Senior year of high school, both young men were planning on attending a Junior College in their part of the state. It offered a chance at a two-year baccalaureate degree. Commuting back and forth would be a chore, but they could take additional work in accounting and other classes. Their plans were put on hold after December 7. They were good students and encouraged to continue their education by David, Agostino, and Conley.

The teens were hard workers, intelligent, streetwise, multi-talented, enjoyed life, and fucking! It should be qualified; fucking is what they did to others slacking their lust, satisfying their carnal desires, and giving pleasure to others while pleasing themselves.

What Gio and Isaiah did to each other was loving, unconditional love, the love that binds two kindred souls together for a lifetime; love which is gentle, caring, deeply emotional, erotically satisfying with special intention of each satisfying the other. No selfishness, just a total giving!

Lying in bed together, nakedness against nakedness, needing the other person as an intricate half of the whole, sharing warmth, heart beat and breath, attached by lips, limps, or their penises plugged in an orifice as if they were one. Knowing each other’s strengths and weaknesses, admitting both could hardly pass up a desirable young lad to fuck or suck or be sucked by him didn’t diminish their intense, true relationship. My fault, your fault, nobody’s fault, their love was unconditional and open; time or distance, life or death, bonded Gio and Isaiah to each other for eternity

Savoring each other’s nearness, warmth, and comfort, Isaiah ran a hand lightly down the small of Gio’s back, reaching his smooth, firm butt cheek, gently, softly, continued his exploration of very familiar territory.

“You’re so smooth,” Isaiah commented, “nary a hair it seems here,” leaning over to caress the place his hand now left with his lips.

“You love my butt, don’t you?” Gio murmured with satisfaction at Isaiah’s ministrations, feeling his own cock stiffen in anticipation of what was to come.

“I love all of you, Gio,” Isaiah responded while reaching under his boyfriend to clasp Gio’s very stiff, hot cock, now throbbing as his hand circled and enclosed it.

“I know you do,” smiled Gio. “Do me on my stomach, please?”

Isaiah moved to settle himself onto Gio’s out-stretched body, belly down, rump slightly elevated, legs slightly spread open to receive the smaller teen. Both had grown, maturing from childhood to teen, but Gio still was an inch to two inches taller than Isaiah and ten pounds heavier. Never-the-less, Isaiah’s body fit perfectly with his, Isaiah’s stomach resting in the small of Gio’s back once Isaiah was mounted and well entrenched. Gio loved to fuck Isaiah, but really someone else, preferably younger, but how he did love to have Isaiah make love to him, burying his long, thick shaft balls deep in his ass, thrusting until cum flooded his insides.

A gob of saliva placed strategically on Gio’s winking, twitching portal and another to his own thick plum-shaped knob, Isaiah held his cock with one hand, carefully spread open the anus, and guided his cock toward home port. He pushed carefully with moderate pressure, not only to lessen any pain there might be when he entered the tight sheath, but to increase the pleasure Gio looked forward to having each time they copulated. He felt the large head of his penis pop through the anal ring and the associated muscle tightening around his shaft, rested a moment, giving Gio an opportunity to adjust or wiggle or flex, anything he wished to do to enhance the experience.

Feeling Gio relax, bowel and intestinal muscles adjusting to the intrusion accepting the very familiar pleasure-stick, he continued with his easy push forward, allowing the hot, moist, flexing sheath to continue to adjust and receive his throbbing eight plus inches until he was secured deeply, his crotch tight against Gio’s butt cheeks, balls rubbing on balls.

“You’re so big!” Gio sighed contentedly.

“Not much more than you,” Isaiah responded with a slight grunt as he started the forward and back motion into his lover’s chute. “Mabey an inch or two is all.”

“Yeah, but you’re thicker with a larger cock-head.”

“All the better to pleasure and love you with.”

The teens began the familiar rhythmic sexual dance they’d had so many times before; Gio pushing back as Isaiah pushed forward, each trying to seek maximum depth and pleasure, as the thick, long cock brushed Gio’s prostate with each pass, sending electric jolts to his cock and balls, as well as stimulating the glans, the crown, and especially, the frenulum, a primary source of orgasmic release stimulation!

 The action continued, picking up pace, intensity, and pleasure until Isaiah felt Gio’s butt-hole and insides began to tense, knowing Gio was getting ready to cum.

“I’m cumin!” groaned Gio.

Isaiah pushed forward, his own ass tightening, his cock swelling as he too began to ejaculate his semen into the depths of Gio’s body. He pushed forward, slipping his arms under Gio’s shoulders to lock the two of them as closely together as possible, and made several short thrusts, firing spurts of white, thick ejaculate each time. He could feel Gio spurt as well, knowing his cock was wrapped in an old sock to keep from soiling the sheets too badly.

******* 

Outside of Decker’s Corner, in the real world of lunacy, if one were to accept Conley’s description as accurate, the war was making a huge impact and exacting a devasting toll on military forces and civilians. The order to move those of Japanese ancestry to detention centers had a ripple effect as well continuing to disrupt lives and separate families.

“Pure hysteria!” Conley snorted in disgust when commenting on the Executive Order.

“Complete idiocy and veiled prejudice,” announced David to his brothers, remembering well the discrimination, prejudice, and attacks against their people, comparing those events to what was happening. The attacks and discriminatory actions against the Romany hadn’t really ceased, but was overshadowed by the actions against Asians.

“Someday,” Zoe Lovell pronounced, “we’re going to pay for all of this!”

 *******

Isaiah and Gio were helping Conley around the house and on the farm several times a week after they finished their chores. He was teaching them to use their newly learned accounting and bookkeeping skills to work on his own financial accounts before sending the documents to his CPA firm which managed his accounts and taxes.

In the first part of May, less than two weeks before the boys were to graduate from high school, Conley approached Dave and Agostino proposing a job offer for Gio and Isaiah.

“I’ll pay them well, take care of room and board, and provide clothing and other expenses. I’m getting older and I’ll be needing some help since I’ll be having some company staying for short and extended visits. This war has displaced people and some will be staying with me.”

The proposition was agreeable to both David and Agostino and with Gio and Isaiah. They moved in with Conley a week before graduation. It didn’t take much to put everything in the back of their pickup truck and move it in to one of the upstairs bedrooms. Conley had a list of things needing done, other than cooking, including repainting the bedrooms upstairs and the extra bedroom down stairs. He gathered together extra blankets and beds and had them make up the rooms for occupancy after painting. The lady who did his laundry and did light housekeeping for him was asked to plan on two days per week before long.

Gio and Isaiah, although concerned but not upset if they had to do more cooking, asked Conley about it.

“Not to worry my pretty ones,” he smiled in answer. “We’ll be having a cook and a full-time housekeeper coming in a few days.”

On the Tuesday after their graduation, Gio and Isaiah were just finishing chores, caring for the chickens Conley added, milking the two cows he decided they needed, and the two pigs in addition to their own small herd, walking toward the house, when a panel truck drove up and stopped in front of the house.

Curiosity slowed their pace, moving slowly toward the house, wondering why a strange vehicle, a panel truck with out-of-state license plates was now parked in front of the house, who might be in the truck, and wondering if they should be concerned with its presence and the occupant or occupants. Gio transferred the empty milk bucket, having divested its contents, mixed with cracked corn and oats, into a hog trough, reached behind his back with his right hand checking to make certain the .410ga sawed off shotgun, equipped with a pistol grip, was secure in its holster. Isaiah made a similar check to see if his knife was resting securely in its sheath attached to his belt and located in the small of his back.

The panel van sat strangely quiet; no one emerged or did any window or door open. The teens became quickly concerned and on heightened alert.

“Porch!” Isaiah announced in a low voice only Gio could hear.

They picked up their pace, not running, not appearing to be hurried or alarmed, but at a well-paced, determined speed. Both kept their eyes focused on the vehicle, ready, if need be, to stop any misdeeds coming from those inside it. Quickly ascending the steps leading to the porch, they took up position on the top one, turned, and faced the vehicle.

A man in his mid-thirties, apparently the driver, stepped out of the driver’s side door, stretched, looked around, and spotted Gio and Isaiah standing on the porch step watching him. Strapped to his right side was a holstered pistol.

“Gun!” whispered Gio.

“Got-cha’!” Isaiah responded as he maneuvered the knife in his belt so he could either throw it or use it in close contact action. As he did, he heard the distinct “click” of the hammer on the .410 being drawn back, cocking it, making it ready to fire. The gun had a barrel length of twelve inches and was effective at close range. Gio started carrying it in April when he spotted a rattlesnake near the hog pen. High spring water flooded the lower timber lands and drove the critters to higher ground and he wasn’t about taking a chance on being bitten, if he saw the snake first.

The vehicle door on the passenger side slammed shut and after a moment or so, an older, overweight by perhaps fifty pounds and with a belly hang-over problem, man in his fifties or sixties stepped around the back of the truck, joining the other man. He said something to the driver tipping his head toward the house, turned slightly, and eyed Gio and Isaiah.

“Another gun!” Gio said to Isaiah, switching to Romany.

Both looked the man over carefully. Granted he was overweight, not particularly a “lard-ass” as Gio might refer to some, but definitely could shed a few pounds.

“Wonder if he can see his dick without standing in front of a mirror?” smirked Gio.

“Well fed, it appears!” Isaiah snickered in response.

Another person emerged from behind the van, zipping up his pants, and spotted Gio and Isaiah standing on the porch step. He quickly scooted up behind the heavy guy.

“Our age?” questioned Gio.

“Younger!” answered Isaiah.

Paul Ramos stood stoically, arms at his side, eyes scanning the porch for others, and then focused on the two slim teens standing on the porch step in an obvious warning posture, deterring anyone from coming into the house. Tommy Tomayo, age fifteen and house-boy for Ramos, stood directly behind Ramos, wondering what and why the two teens, somewhat older and taller, than himself, stood apparently baring the way into the house.

Ramos, assessing the situation, knew he was at the right house, the directions from Conley were quite clear. Conley made no mention, however, of any other occupants or guests in residence.

“Perhaps,” he thought, “they are just neighbors visiting or hired hands, or Conley’s fuck toys. Or,” as an afterthought, “something has happened and the situation has changed.”

The two young men, perhaps in their late teens, weren’t really striking aggressive poses, were slim and not overly muscular, yet physically well developed with narrow hips and slightly wider shoulders; not an ounce of fat on their bodies and well-trimmed through hard work and exercise. They were, in his estimation, damned good looking, especially the smaller of the two, and fuckable!

Ramos decided to call their bluff and see if they were determined or had the balls to continue standing in his way. Moving forward, he said to Tommy in Tagalog, “Let’s find out what’s going on around here.”

“He’s going to make his move!” cautioned Gio.

“I can handle him,” advised Isaiah, “if you can drop the guy near the truck if he moves to help.”

“No problem!” Gio answered.

After hearing the “click” of the hammer on the .410 being pulled back, cocking the weapon, Isaiah knew it was ready for firing and Gio could make short work of the man standing by the van with the gun.

Ramos was close enough to know the young men were talking to each other, but couldn’t understand the language. He spoke Tagalog, Spanish, some Japanese, a smattering of Chinese, and English, but not this strange tongue. He stepped forward toward the house, but was stopped by the smaller of the two teens, not by force but by a well-mannered question.

“May we help you?” Isaiah asked pleasantly.

“You can help me by moving your skinny little asses out of my way,” authoritatively growled Ramos, in an attempt to bluff the lad and to establish his own dominance.

“I’m afraid we are reluctant,” responded Isaiah congenially, “to do so until we know the nature of your business.”

This time Ramos snarled angrily, “Listen you little smart-ass farm hick, it’s none of your fucking business why I’m here so move your asses or I’ll move them for you. So, go entertain yourself fucking your buddy. One way or another, I’m coming through.”

Unseen and unheard until this moment, from behind Isaiah, Conley warned, “I wouldn’t advise it, Paul!”

Paul Ramos halted his advance, raised his eyebrows as if in speculation, as Conley continued,

“You see, Paul, before you could get your hand on that pistol strapped to your waist, the young man on my right, your left, would have you skewered in your gullet by his knife. You’ll never even see it leave his hand; he’s that damned good! Now the young man on my left, your right, should your driver decide to enter into the fray, will have either his head blown apart by the sawed-off shotgun the young man has behind his back, or his balls shattered, depending on how quickly or slowly the young man decides he should live or suffer.”

“You’re bluffin’!” growled Ramos with a slight tremor in his voice, marking his uncertainty.

The driver carefully, both hands raised in surrender, stepped back into his truck while Tommy slowly walked backward toward the truck, placing distance between Ramos and himself! Tommy figured he’d seen and been through enough shit in the past few years and wasn’t eager to be involved in this fracas, especially if it meant shooting, knifing, raping, and who knows what else manner of violence. Fight he would if he had to, but he was a house boy, a companion, someone who loved to be loved by another male, as well as being quite good at housekeeping and other necessary chores around the house.

“Maybe,” responded Conley, ‘but, maybe not. You need to know, Paul, a little more about the two young men you so foolishly are challenging. Don’t let the appearances deceive you. The young man on my right, your left, bashed a man’s head in with a shovel before his tenth birthday. His companion, the one on my left and your right, using a slingshot, drove a steel ball-bearing into a man’s brain while the other one slit the man’s throat. Bloody fuckin’ mess as I understand it. All in all, four grown men met death that night, three of them by these two and one by the little brother of Mr. Slice and Dice.”

Ramos’ gulp, as he swallowed back his fear, was audible even to Isaiah and Gio. The sweat on the pudgy man’s brow glistened in the setting sun. Ramos sort of shuffled his feet, swallowed, and finally admitted,

“You know I was just buffin’, don’t you Conley? I couldn’t hurt anyone as pretty as these two boys. Besides, I’m a cook, not a fucking killer!”

“I know, Paul, you’re really just a softie at heart and have been since you were a teenager. Now apologize to the boys and come on up. Oh, and bring Tommy and your passengers with you.”

Tommy picked up on the invitation and gave a couple of bangs on the side of the panel truck. The back door opened and four young boys clambered out.

To be continued...

Posted: 04/22/2022