Chapter One: Of Blowjobs and Branding Irons
A thick drizzle floated through the fog, making Finn imagine that he was in some ancient rain forest, surrounded by ten-foot-high ferns and walking knee-deep in lush mosses. The fog hung in the air like rags ripped off cottony clouds, and Finn could see black shapes moving behind the tattered rags, shapes that emerged in the weak light of the park lamps
He squeezed Brian’s hand. “What’s that?”
“What’s what?” Brian replied, returning his squeeze with one of his own.
“I thought I saw something moving—there!” Finn pointed.
Brian squinted, frowning. “Tree trunks,” he said. “It’s the fog moving that makes it look like the tree trunks are moving.” He wrapped his big arm around him. “Don’t worry, Finn. There’s not another soul in this park on night like tonight. We’re the only ones here.” He pulled him closer.
Finn sighed, pillowing his head against Brian’s neck. He felt secure and warm next to his secret lover. But then, they were out here alone on this drizzly autumn night, with no light except the weak glow of the park lamps, and the fog causing the illusion of moving shapes behind it. He shivered, feeling trickles of ice shooting down his spine.
Brian stopped walking, wrapped both arms around him, and kissed Finn on the lips. “Cold?”
“Sort of. I’m just glad I’m not out here alone. What if that motorcycle gang came along?” He shivered again, this time so hard that his teeth clicked together. “What if I met the Riders?”
Brian shook his head. Drizzle-water dripped from his thick blond forelock. “Don’t even think about things like that. That’s like worrying about a volcano erupting under your feet. Don’t even think about that gang. They’re long gone. They wouldn’t dare come back to Hampton again, not with half the lawmen in the state out on their trail.”
Finn nuzzled his warm cheek. “OK,” he said. “I’ll stop thinking about it.”
Brian ran his fingers through Finn’s hair. “Good,” he said, then covered his mouth with his hot wet lips. His tongue slid between his lips, and Finn moaned.
Feeling a sudden ache in his cock, Finn pulled Brian down to the ground and pulled his hard body down on top of him. Even through their two raincoats and their clothing underneath the coats, he could still feel Brian’s heart thudding as he pressed down on top of him. And down below, he felt his boyfriend’s big hard cock throbbing with need.
Finn clamped his hand on Brian’s cock-bulge, wishing they were both naked, aching to feel the other boy’s smooth flesh against his own, dying to feel his big burning cock inside his hole.
“Oh God, Brian, I want you to fuck me!” Finn arched his back, driving his body up at his humping lover. His entire body throbbed.
“Finn!” Brian muttered. “Oh, baby, I wanna fuck you!” His fingers fumbled clumsily with the buttons of Finn’s raincoat.
As Brian undressed him, he began prying off his shoes with his feet, peeling off his wool sweat-socks with his toes.
Up above, Brian had got Finn’s raincoat and hiked his shirt up to feel the boy’s taught body.
Finn arched up, tight as a strung bow. “Ohhh, Brian! Ohhhh, God!”
“I really need to fuck you, Finn.”
The wind gusted, knocking a shower of chill water droplets out of the trees above them. Drops pelted them. Finn smiled, hot and giddy. The autumn drizzle might be cold, but he and Brian were so hot that it would sizzle up in steam the moment it touched their naked flesh. They finished undressing each other and piled their clothes on top of their raincoats, building a bed to lie on for their fucking.
Finn lay on the clothes, face up. Brian climbed onto him, straddling his midsection, rubbing his warm smooth ass against Finn’s flat belly.
Brian reached behind his ass and lightly rubbing Finn’s twitching prick. “You like that?” he asked.
Finn’s over-sensative cock throbbed almost-painfully.
“Yes,” he grunted. “Oh, God, oh, uh!”
“Good. I love to see you squirm,” Brian said, grinning. His eight-inch cock stood up vertically and twitched, tapping his flat, lean belly. He had the narrowest hips and the most beautiful set of squared-off abdominal muscles that Finn had ever seen.
Finn knew the cock was eight inches long because he’d measured it. He loved that beautiful fucker.
“Oh, Brian,” he said, reaching forward to cradle Brian’s cock and nuts in his hands. “Let me suck your cock!”
Brian didn’t have to be asked twice. He moved forward until his nuts hovered over Finn’s lips.
Finn nuzzled his lover’s nut sac, kissing all around it, smooching the very bottom of his body. Then he licked his balls, enjoying the silky touch of his hairless sac against his tongue.
“Ohhh, Finn!” Brian moaned. “I love you!”
Finn giggled. He nuzzled the underside of his beautiful cock, then began to lick it. From base to knob, his tongue moved, from knob to base. Brian humped his loins gently, sliding his cock back and forth over his lapping tongue.
Each time his tongue churned at the underside of the cockhead, Brian’s cock flexed upward, quivering like an arrow that had just struck its target.
Brian moaned, as he looked down and watched Finn lick the most sensitive part of his big cock. He loved the way Finn’s face looked, but he loved it even better with it was partially obscured by his cock.
Finn grinned. Then, wrapping his hands around the thick shaft of his lover’s cock, he bent hte hard rod of cockmeat down so he could get the head of it into his mouth. He felt the arteries in his cock flutter against his palms, felt the steel-like strength of his cock as he exerted pressure to draw it down to his lips.
A heavy drop of hot pre-cum oozed out of his gaping piss-slit, and Finn flicked it off with his darting tongue, rolling it in his mouth like a molten marble before he let it slide down his throat. It was the sweet, salty, sticky, slippery honey of his lover’s cock, and he savored the taste of it, savored its warmth.
Brian leaned forward onto his hands and gently shoved his cock between Finn’s lips.
Finn relaxed his jaws and throat and let Brian’s cock slide into his face to the hilt. He felt his glossy, hot cockhead slide against his tonsils, felt his hard cockshaft with its fluttering arteries massage his clinging lips. His lips, his mouth, his tongue, his entire face began to throb from the stimulation of Brian’s hot cock.
While gently churning his tongue against the underside of Brian’s cock, Finn began to manipulate his cock shaft with his lips, began to undulate the walls of his throat so as to stimulate the luscious big cock-knob.
Brian began to hump, sliding his slick smooth cock in and out of the sucking mouth and throat. All eight inches of his marvelous cockmeat slid backward, then all eight inches fucked forward, then back again, then in again, sliding, fucking. His bare ass rotated as he fucked his boyfriend’s mouth.
Finn watched all the beautiful muscles of Brian’s abdomen writhe and define themselves. He nuzzled Brian’s silky blond cock hair as the cock skewered the depths of his throat. His big spongy balls flapped against his chin. Finn tasted the hot fuck-lube that bubbled out of his cock and rolled down his throat. He sucked and sucked and sucked as Brian humped and wriggled and groaned.
Finn’s head became as pleasure-filled getting face-fucked as his ass did getting ass-fucked. His mouth throbbed and tingled inside like a fucked ass. He sucked furiously, hungry for the hot cum that bubbled in his lover’s balls.
“Awwwww! God! Finn! Ahhhhh!” Brian groaned loud and long as he shot his cum down his throat.
His cock quivered like an electric vibrator, sending zinging sensations through Finn’s mouth. Squirt, splat, spurt—Brian’s cum shot thick and hot into his mouth, down his throat.
Finn swallowed, gurgling and gulping. He loved the taste and scent of cum, and Brian had the sweetest, creamiest cum he’d ever tasted. He sucked rhythmically, teasing Brian’s enormous meaty dong to shoot again and again.
“Mmmmmm!” he sighed. “Mmmmmm! Delicious!”
Wiggling his hips a little, he made his own throbbing cock bounce from side to side. He was glad to put off his own orgasm, because he was ready to be fucked now. As soon as Brian recovered a little, he’d feel the other boy’s big hot cock throbbing inside his ass. He clenched his ass as he anticipated the fuck.
Reverend Jimmy Trummel shook hands with the last of the night’s worshippers, then spun on his heels and left the church vestibule for his office in a side wing of the First Baptist Church of Hampton. As he strode down the hallway, the smile he’d engraved on his face for saying goodnight to the congregation melted into a relaxed scowl.
“Lock up and go home, Marvin,” he told the old janitor as he passed the man in the hallway. “I’ll be working late in my office, and I don’t want any interruptions.”
Marvin saluted him, said goodnight, and marched off jingling his keys. Reverend Jimmy watched him disappear around the corner, then waited until he’d heard the old man lock up. Satisfied that he’d attained privacy, he continued on to his office, a new smile tightening his slack jowls. This smile, unlike the forced smile he used to charm the members of his congregation, took shape effortlessly. It was his private smile.
However, as he barged into his office and slammed and locked the door behind him, his new smile dissolved into a scowl, a new scowl, a scowl of excitement and righteous anger.
The young boy who had been waiting for him seemed to shrink as he glanced at him sitting in the upright wooden chair next to the door.
Reverend Jimmy winced for a moment, looking at him, because the boy reminded him so much of his own son, Finn. This boy and Finn were in the same class at Hampton High School. They were even on the gymnastics team together. The thought of that made him fume. He’d never been agreeable to Finn’s joining the gymnastics team and parading around in that scanty outfit. He’d only let him join after Finn and his mother had nagged him for weeks. It was one of the few times in his life that he’d weakened and failed to stand by his intuitive sense of righteousness. He often cursed himself now for having given in.
He walked deliberately across his office and snatched up the riding crop that he always kept on his desk. He whacked it hard on the oak desk top, then spun and faced the boy.
“All right, Mister Caspen—up and over here—now!”
He whacked the crop on the desk again and watched with satisfaction as the boy half-stumbled across the hardwood floor to stand before him, eyes downcast, hands cupped over his groin. Reverend Jimmy looked him up and down, disgusted by the outfit he wore.
“Next time you step into God’s house, Mister Caspen, you will not wear shorts and a t-shirt like a boy, but pants and shirt like a man.”
“Yes, sir,” he said, still looking down. “But I came here right from school. My father drove me. We had a late practice. I’m on the gymnastics team.”
Reverend Jimmy felt heat rush into his face. “I know all about you, Mister Caspen,” he snapped. “Your father has informed me of your recent shameful history. Why do you think you’re here? Place your hands on my desk and lean forward.”
The moment the boy took his place, Reverend Jimmy cracked him three times across his shorts-clad ass. He shuddered and began to whimper.
“Silence!” he shouted. “I’ll have no sniveling!”
Reverend Jimmy paced back and forth behind him, taking his time, letting the boy’s fear grow. He loved the tense way the boy held himself, as if waiting at any moment to feel the kiss of his riding crop once more. His asscheeks were clenching together. Reverend Jimmy caught himself admiring the narrow mellons of the boy’s ass.
“Now!” he shouted suddenly, causing the boy to jump. “We will begin your confession. How far did you go with the young man? Your father didn’t inform me.”
“All the way, sir,” he said weakly. “He—he—he forced me to do it. I really didn’t want to do it.”
Reverend Jimmy shook his head. How many times had he heard that story before? And how many times had parents sent their teenagers to him to confess sins of the flesh? It was permissiveness that was causing the moral corruption of today’s youth, and he was one of the few people with enough backbone to fight for the old and godly values. That’s why he held these confessions—to strike fear of the Lord once more into the godless hearts of spoiled and decadent young people. The boy had forced him? Bah! He was as guilty as the other boy. But Reverend Jimmy would get the true story out of him—every wretched detail of it—and as he pulled the story out of him, he would punish him as he deserved—as he deserved!
Ripper dipped the branding iron into the glowing coals, then pulled it out, watching the letter R glow as if the iron itself had turned to glowing coals. He watched the red-orange metal pulsate, watched a clean smoke rise, then saw the brand begin to lose color and to fade out. At last, when all the glow had gone out of the brand, he pressed it against the dark leather of a motorcycle saddlebag that lay nearby, next to the fireplace. The leather hissed. A dark smoke rose from the meeting of hot iron and leather. When he pulled the brand away, the letter R smoked on the saddlebag, permanently burned into the tough leather.
“Riders,” he drawled, glancing with a grin over at the naked blond boy who sat huddled up in a corner of the log cabin. Around his ankle was a sexy iron band. A heavy chain ran from the band to the wall. He was a shackled, chained bitch.
The boy hugged his knees to his chest, trying to hide his body from Ripper, but the biker could still see the boy’s well-fucked ass glistening near his heels. Cum leaked out of his ass-hole—the mingled cum of several men, and it pooled on the floor near the ass.
He liked the way the boy shuddered. He was even cuter when he looked scared. Ripper wondered what he’d do when they branded him. He wondered if he’d kick and squirm and cuss like he’d done when they’d chained him up and started fucking his cute little ass. He’d known he was gonna to get fucked. But he’d fought like a wildcat anyway, and Rider had enjoyed that. He’d always enjoyed boys more when they put up a fuss. It made them tighter inside, made them fucking mean inside, made their hot little asses nearly skin the hide off his prick. Yeah, it sure felt good, fucking a chained-up wildcat! Tonight he’d be the one to fuck the boy when they branded him!
He thrust the brand back into the hissing coals and worked it around, twirling it, screwing it, jamming it back and forth. That was the way his prick was going to fuck him while Gib and Bear burned the letter R into his pretty young ass.
Ripper reached down between his legs and pulled on his large sweating cock. His cock-knob felt like it was a beating heart. Damn! He hadn’t fucked that boy more than a half hour ago, and now his cock was jumping as if he hadn’t fucked in a week. He could crawl over there by him and fuck him again right now. Ripper was as naked as the kid and his cock was up, and the boy’s tight little ass was all greased and waiting. But Ripper knew he should save his cum for the hot fuck later. When he came into the boy while he was getting R for Riders branded on his ass, his cock would feel that much better if he hadn’t squirted his jizz in awhile.
He yanked the branding iron out of the fire and plunged it into the coffee can full of water nearby. As the steam hissed up, he grabbed a tin cup full of water off the small table behind him and shoved his cock into it. No steam rose up, but the water cooled his cock and softened it enough to keep his loins from aching.
Ripper pulled his cock out of the tin cup and walked over to the boy. The boy peered up at him, his eyes half-hid by the shaggy yellow hair that had fallen forward over his face. Ripper squatted, knocked his hair aside, and pressed the tin cup against his lips.
“Have a snort, kid. Cock tea. Bet you ain’t never had no cock tea before.”
The boy opened his mouth, and Ripper dumped the cock-flavored water down his throat. Some of the water dribbled off his chin and ran down his body. He licked his lips.
“There now,” Ripper said. “Bet you ain’t never tasted water that good.” He licked the spilled drops off the boy’s chin, then lapped the trickles off his hot firm body. He licked one of his nipples and nipped it.
The boy shivered.
“Don’t,” the boy said, his voice a whimper.
Ripper sat up. “What’s the matter? You getting hot and bothered? You don’t like it when big mean old Ripper with knife scars on his cheeks makes your cock rise, do you? You don’t like it, knowing that a dirty old pig like old Ripper can turn you on.”
Ripper laughed, holding the boy’s chin with his thick fingertips. Then he leaned forward and kissed him, letting his tongue dig right down into his sweet mouth.
The boy grunted into his mouth. His blue eyes blazed. He hammered at Ripper’s sweaty chest with his small fists, then fell over backward, trying to escape him.
Ripper crunched down on top of him, biting his face and neck, slobbering on his cheeks.
“Please!” the boy whimpered. “Oh, please, leave me alone!”
Ripper’s cock shot through with hot thrills, throbbing at the entrance to the boy’s ass. He could easily slide his cock right up into his hole. Christ, how he’d love to do that! There was nothing he liked better than fucking a frantically pleading guy. He rammed his cock up into the boy’s ass, fucked it in and out a half-dozen times, then remembered his plans for later on, and yanked his cock out. It dripped with old cum.
The boy, whose entire body had gone tense during his quick fucking, melted back onto the rough cabin floor and sighed, panting. His ribcage rose and fell, rose and fell. His watery eyes glinted in the light of the fire and the various kerosene lanterns placed around the one-room cabin. A vague smile turned up the corners of his mouth, as if he were relieved that he had decided to spare him.
Ripper, sitting on the floor between his spread legs, reached down and fondled the boy’s cock with his grease-soiled index finger. “Don’t count your chickens before they’re hatched, pretty boy. I ain’t done with you. I surely ain’t. You’re gonna get another feel of Ripper’s old cock later on, once Bear and Gib get back.” He chuckled. “And, let me tell you, you’re gonna go crazy when you feel my cock ploughing up in your sexy little asshole, especially when Bear and Gib are administering the rite of the brand to your little ass. Wheee! You’re gonna love that!”
The boy let out a squeaking sob. He turned his head to the side and chewed on his fist. He gazed at the wall.
Ripper liked what he saw—the boy shivering as if lying naked in a blizzard. “Yes sir, me and Bear and Gib are gonna brand you ours forever. You’re gonna wear the sign R on your pretty ass from tonight on. You know what R stands for, baby?”
The boy just lay there, shaking and whimpering.
“Well,” Ripper said, “it stands for Riders. That ain’t so hard to figure out. But then it stands for something else, too. And this is just between you and me—hear? It stands for Ripper. Riders and Ripper. Got that? Oh, I don’t suppose that after tonight you’ll ever forget it.”
The boy shuddered hard.
Ripper liked that. He eased himself down onto the floor, sliding down on his belly between the boy’s spread legs, taking care not to scrape any skin off his belly or nuts as he positioned himself to suck at the boy’s prick. It never hurt to have a struggling boy be horny too. Pressing his greasy hands to the boy’s inner thighs and forcing him so wide that he became all ass and prick to his eyes, he shoved his face against the boy’s prick and took the hanging nuts into his mouth, twisting his face from side to side.
Ripper liked fucking with the boy and getting him hot. His own cock flexed underneath him, trapped between the floor and his belly. He also loved the musky, sweaty smell of a well-fucked ass. And this little guy had one well-fucked ass!
Ripper, and Gib and Bear, and the rest of the gang had each fucked his little ass at least once. He was so full of Riders’ cum that it was a wonder his belly hadn’t bloated up.
Ripper pulled the boy’s prick into his mouth and began to suck.
He lay there a long while, enjoying the prick in his mouth. Then he licked it up and down, up and down. He worked his way down and shoved his tongue way up inside the boy’s ass, enjoying the feel of his hot ass ring sucking at it.
The boy might have been fucked a dozen, even two dozen times since that afternoon when a few of the guys had picked him up down on the state highway where he’d been hitchhiking, but his horny ass never stopped sizzling, never stopped throbbing. The kid had probably had seven orgasms since they’d dragged him up here that afternoon, but his ass still wanted more. He’d go on having orgasms forever, just as long as his ass kept being stimulated.
Some guys were like that, Ripper knew. Some guys just came and came and came. He’d run into quite a few in his time. That was the kind of guy the Riders needed to join the gang—a guy who could fuck all the guys, any time, anywhere. He moved back up and sank his teeth into the young boy’s cock, then filed his trapped cock with his rough wet tongue.
The boy arched his back and groaned. His cute little ass began to dance on the rough wood floor. His horny prick inflated in Ripper’s mouth.
Ripper pulled the kid’s balls and pushed his face all the way down on the ready prick, burying his nose in the pubic hair until the kid’s hot juices roared down his throat.
Ripper couldn’t think of many things more exciting—except maybe fucking the boy hard while Bear and Gib glued a red-hot branding iron to his smooth white ass. Ahhhh! That too!
