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***** ***** ***** Rural Revenge 2 (History Lesson) by Dick Jacker
The public library was located in the basement of a multi purpose public works building. It was one large room with several tall bookshelves about twenty feet long. A few dingy windows along the top of the far wall let in dusty filtered daylight. Large hanging florescent fixtures cast harsh light over the room. 3 elderly men sat in large stuffed chairs reading local papers over in a corner. They looked up briefly to consider Brad's presence, then returned to their reading. The librarian sat behind a large oak desk, a green shaded lamp casting a warm glow on the inlay leather top. A sign on the desk indicated that this was the man Brad was looking for. The smartly dressed older gentleman looked at Brad expectantly, rising as Brad extended his hand in greeting.
"You're Nathan Porter?" Brad asked quietly. Porter acknowledged he was as they shook hands. Brad continued, " I was told you were the one I needed to talk to about the history of Pine Knot, and some of its long time residents."
Porter smiled broadly, giving his trimmed silver goatee a quick stroke. "I'd be thrilled to share some of the history of this area, Mr..." He paused waiting for Brad to introduce himself.
"McCurry...Brad McCurry."
Porter quickly recoiled and gasped, bumping against his desk, causing the three elderly people in the corner to glance up with concern. Porter waved them away and again their attention was focused on the newspapers.
Exasperated, Brad asked in a harsh whisper, "Ya see? That! Why does everyone do that when they hear my name?"
Porter straightened himself, then led Brad away from the main desk, leaning closer and speaking in a more conspiratorial tone. Brad caught a whiff of the man's cologne.
"Tell me Mr. McCurry. Do you know if any of your family came from this area?"
Brad thought about it for a moment while Nathan opened a metal cabinet and withdrew three large red leather binders.
"I didn't think so, but earlier I had this...image in my head. Like a memory of when I was very young...and an old stone cottage...and a woman..." He shook his head, confused. " I don't know...*
Porter hefted the binders in his arms and walked back across the room, motioning for Brad to follow. He spoke to one of the old men sitting at the
"Buckley, keep an eye out and let me know if anyone needs me, 'kay?" The man nodded, and Nathan led Brad to a small room near the back, with a table and chairs. He set the thick albums down heavily, and invited Brad to have a seat.
As he closed the room's door, Nathan Porter said, "I hope you don't have an aversion to the description of graphic sexual situations, sir..."
For the next hour, Brad got a crash course in the history of Pine Knot, and the many different families that made their mark on the land. McCreary County, where Pine Knot is located, was named for a Major Alvin McCreary, who served under Stonewall Jackson during the Civil War, and was born and raised in Pine Knot. However not everyone in the McCreary family was so delighted to hear this. Around 1875, one Milton McCreary pronounced that his family would not be associated with the beaten army of the South, and any kin who was a part of it. He had the family name legally changed to McCurry. And in Pine Knot, the McCurry clan was seen as lower than low. They were shunned, berated, and abused by all the families in the area.
Except for the Tiller clan.
They lent a helping hand to the McCurrys, because it was the right thing to do. They helped plow and plant their crops, repair their barn, get their crops and livestock to market. The McCurrys were very grateful. Then in the spring of 1885, the McCurrys asked if one of the Tiller's boys could come stay for a few months to help with the planting. The Tillers happily agreed, and sent young Morris Tiller to live with the McCurrys for a few months.
"That was Delmer's great grandfather, Morris." Porter said, as he showed Brad an ancient photograph of a large group of people standing in front of a ramshackle farmhouse. He pointed to a young blonde man off to the side in the picture next to a horse, smiling, holding the reins. He looked slender, but not malnourished. He was wearing only bib overalls. His arms, chest and shoulders were well muscled.
"He was just 15." Nathan said sadly, shaking his head. He then recounted to Brad (in great detail), the violation that started the feud between the Tillers and McCurrys...
Nathan Porter had gone to great lengths to get complete and accurate accounts of the milestone events in Pine Knot's history, including the sordid, seedy episodes. He had dozens of cassette tapes of different Pine Knot residents sharing their knowledge of the Tiller/McCurry feud.
According to all oral and written accounts, passed down from generation to generation, it was about six weeks after Morris went to the McCurry farm that his father Caleb, his uncle Ray, and his older brother Victor walked to the McCurry farm to check on the boy. They came to an old storage shed behind one of the barns on the McCurry farm and heard unusual noises. When Caleb quietly approached and peered through a space between some of the boards, he saw two McCurry men and one of their black field hands completely naked, stroking their hard glistening cocks. They stood surrounding Morris, who was also naked, his arms and legs bound, bent over a hay bale. His pale, round smooth ass on display. His mouth was gagged, tears streaming down his face. His young muscles strained against the ropes as Ben McCurry, the father, stepped up behind Morris, his impressive manhood rising, a thick strand of precum hanging from his shiny cock head. He growled as he pressed his meat between Morris's quivering butt cheeks.
*Damm, I been waiting all week to get inside this sweet hole again."" he said, rocking his hips back and forth, letting his cock slide along Morris's crack. His hands held the firm buttocks, then slid down the strong thighs and back up the smooth young back.. The younger McCurry, thickly built and hairy from his neck to his knees, added, excitedly stroking his short thick cock, "Yeah, Daddy! I love watching you make this little piggy squeal! Fuck 'im! Fuck 'im!"
Caleb was shaking with anger, but also mesmerized by the scene unfolding in front of him. Ray and Victor had also stepped up and were peering through the warped boards. All three were silent as the younger Tiller was forced to take the thick cock of Ben McCurry up his tight backside. He then directed his son, Edgar to stuff his dick down Morris' throat, which the man did eagerly. They both took great pleasure in their front and back reaming of Morris Tiller for a while, then Ben extracted his hardon from the kid's raw used hole, and invited the field hand, Mackey, to take his place. The black man moved behind Morris, hunkered down, grabbing the teenager's firm buttocks, and slid his thick wet tongue along the boy's smooth trench, circling around his swollen pucker, then driving his pink tongue inside, eliciting a muffled moan of relief from Morris, who worked diligently to engulf Edgar's cock. Ben moved to Edgar's side, pushing him back. Edgar complained a bit, but shut his mouth when his father gave him a stern look. Ben leaned down, taking Morris' chin in his rough hand, looking at the young man.
"You're gettin' to like this, ain'tcha?" Morris nodded, then said, "It still hurts a little at first, but I sure do like it."
The Tiller men had seen enough. They stepped quietly away from the intense sexual violation. All three men had painfully hard erections pressing against their rough denim jeans. After they'd returned to their own land, Victor was the first to speak.
"What are we gonna do, Pa? We can't just let them McCurrys keep cornholing Mo like that!"
Caleb thought for a moment while he squeezed and stroked his throbbing dick through his jeans. He was distracted by his arousal at seeing Ben McCurry repeatedly slam his ample prick into his son's ass. He didn't realize how muscular anrepeatedly
"I don't know what to do, boy. The damage has already been done to our youngest boy. Hell, I can't hardly think straight 'cuz of this piledriver in my pants. Both Caleb's son Victor and his brother Ray agreed, massaging their own throbbing fuckpoles. Caleb opened his fly and released his erection, thick veins stretching its length, the foreskin still covering most of the flared head, dripping precum. He gave it a couple rough strokes when his brother Ray spoke up.
"Wait! I know what we do! They rape our kin, we gotta do the same! Tonight! With these three Tiller pricks!"
Caleb agreed, stuffing his cock back into his jeans. They returned to their farmhouse and planned their revenge.
At midnight, Caleb, Ray, Victor and Ray's son-in-law, Pietro, who was married to his daughter, Lilly, left the Tiller farmhouse, headed toward the McCurry farm. Pietro wasn't truly a Tiller, having immigrated from Poland. But when he learned what had happened, he was furious. And being Polish, he revealed to the other men his extraordinary endowment, even insisting they measure his erect cock. It was 11 inches from base to tip, and nearly eight inches around. They all admitted they really wanted to see Pietro impale one of the McCurry rapists on his sperm cannon.
They approached the house and heard one of the McCurry men snoring loudly as he slept on the front screened porch. They entered the open veranda, and quickly gagged and bound their victim, covering his head with a burlap sack. All four men carried the struggling man quickly back to the Tiller farm, taking him to an old shed with a sturdy wooden work table, and a large section of one wall torn open from storm damage. With kerosene lamps casting oily yellow light they pulled the hood off their captive, delighted to see Edgar McCurry looking terrified. They quickly secured his feet to the table, his body bent over and his arms pulled to the other side of the table. A Bowie knife was unsheathed, and his grimy long johns quickly shredded, revealing his hairy, thick, muscular buttocks and thighs. His broad back and shoulders, also coated in fur, flexed and bulged against the restraints, without any relief. The Tiller men all began to strip naked, save for their boots. They also shared a bottle of homemade whiskey, each man taking a healthy swallow. Edgar whined and cried as he saw the assortment of hardons preparing to tear his ass wide open. Victor yelled at Edgar "Shut up, ya bitch!" before backhanding him hard across his unshaven face. He lgrabbed the bottle of whisky, took a mouthful, and leaned down toward Edgar's face, his cheek a bright red, a small trickle of blood dripping fr one nostril. Victor sprayed the harsh liquor at Edgar, making him wince as it burned his eyes and nose. All four Tiller men howled with laughter.
"Okay, brother, you're up first. Give this pig what he deserves." directed Caleb. He then left the other 3 to begin their vicious retaliation as Caleb trotted naked back to the McCurry farm to make sure they witnessed their family member's defilement.
Caleb Tiller stood outside, hollering and loudly banging on an old washtub he'd found with a stout branch from a nearby elm.
" Heeey you evil fucking child molesters! Y'all need to come and see how a REAL man gets some tail! We don't force young boys to be our sluts! C'mon out, ya sick fucks!" Oil lamps were lit, and when Ben McCurry stumbled outside, Caleb dropped the washtub and darted back through the woods, shouting, "Come see what we done with your boy Edgar! He won't be able to sit for a week!" Ben and two other McCurry kin followed Caleb, lumbering through the thick brush.
Caleb reached the shed, bounding over the wood fence that marked his property line. The shouts and angry threats of the McCurry clan were still a ways off, but getting closer. Caleb grabbed his rifle from behind an old cabinet, and set the hickory butt stock squarely against his shoulder. He stood with his feet slightly apart, his gaze on the dark fields. He felt a warm, wet, suction bringing his half hard manhood back to rigidity. He glanced down to see Edgar eagerly trying to swallow more of Caleb's 7 inch cock. He took a step closer, and his oldest son Victor pushed Edgar's head against Caleb's crotch roughly, making the bound man cough and gag. Victor released Edgar's head, and smacked his hairy ass hard, and slammed his cock into Edgar's ass repeatedly, making him grunt and huff. But Caleb could tell that Edgar was enjoying being relentlessly fucked by Victor, and, Caleb surmised, he gratefully sucked and swallowed any hard cock forced down his throat.
Caleb's brother Ray relieved him of his rifle, his hands free to hold Edgar's head while he forcefully pistoned his hips forward and back. And while Edgar was doing an A-number one job getting Caleb closer to a mind-blowing orgasm, Caleb and Victor both felt less than satisfied They looked at each other, a bit bewildered, and stopped their dual assault on Edgar McCurry, who whimpered and begged for their matching father/son ramrods. Victor raised his hand threateningly, making Edgar shrink back and remain silent.
The brush and tall grass on the other side of the property fence shook and bent aside, as five men hastily stumbled into the clearing, Ben McCurry and his uncle Logan, a surprisingly fit 87 year old former judge, held their kerosene lamps high, spreading a weak circle of light around the entire group. The McCurrys all reared back at the sight of the rifle aimed at them.
"Stay right there, fellas." Ray warned. Caleb and Victor turned to see the group, a couple of them dressed in only dingy boxers, two others wearing saggy long johns, and Ben McCurry in a threadbare bathrobe.
"What the hell is this all about?" Ben asked. He looked around and saw Edgar's naked body bound and bent over the work table.
"Edgar? Boy, what the fuck are you doin'?"
Edgar looked at his father and said, "Daddy, they snatched me up outta bed and took me here and they been rapin' me and making me do horrible things...,"
"Seems only fair," added Caleb Tiller. "Me and my kin seen what you and Edgar and that big black farm hand of yours was doin' to my son Morris." The McCurrys started to object, but Caleb raised his hand to silence them. "Don't deny it. We just decided this would be the best way to make us even."
Victor spoke up then, adding, "We didn't count on Edgar likin' it so much. Kinda disappointing, really."
One of the other McCurry men said, "This don't make us no ways even. You gave us little Morris freely. Edgar was stolen in the middle of the night."
Caleb said, "We just want our boy back before you do any more damage to him."
Ben McCurry considered this a moment, then turned to one of the other men.
"Go back and wake up Morris. Pack up all his clothes and bring him here." He turned back to Caleb Tiller and said, "We're done with him anyways."
Caleb's brother Ray spoke up then, asking, "What about Edgar here? And none of us got our rocks off yet."
Ben McCurry stepped over the fence, leaving his robe on the ground behind him. "Cousin Paul won't be back with your boy for a while. Might as well keep his holes filled while you can. He likes being used like a two bit whore."
The men all gathered around and took their turn dumping their seed in Edgar.
When Cousin Paul returned with young Morris Tiller, the boy was still groggy from being awakened so early, and confused to see his father, uncle and big brother all naked with their cocks hard and slick with grease and cum.
Caleb called to him, "C'mon, boy. You're comin' back home with us."
Morris looked sad and bewildered. "Why, Pa? Did I do something wrong?"
Caleb shook his head and waved his arm beckoning his son to his side. "No, son. You did everything you were told to, and you learned some very special skills. And you can use those talents at home with your own kin."
The Tiller men closed ranks and surrounded Morris as they walked away from the old shed. Caleb turned his head to the side, speaking to the McCurrys as they gathered themselves and began to leave the area also.
"McCurry! Y'all better learn to sleep with one eye open and your butthole closed!"
Nathan Porter wiped the sweat from his brow and around his neck. He was breathing heavily, and saw Brad was pretty much in the same condition.
"That...was..." Brad said, his voice husky with lust.
"...Intense." Porter said as he stood up. Without a moment's pause, he grabbed his obvious erection and slid it into a better position. Then he added, as he gathered up his binders and photos, "Ya know, I can certainly understand how angry those men must have felt, the violation. But there's also a part of me that wishes I was there, naked, horny and sweaty with all those backwoods boys." He groped his hardon again, checking Brad's basket, which was displaying his own stiff member, which he squeezed and shifted for his comfort, nodding in agreement.
Nathan Porter stepped up close to Brad, rubbing their bulging baskets together.
"Tell ya what. I'm gonna need to get my balls drained, and it looks like you could use a good experienced throat to pump your load down, too. I usually close the library for an hour for lunch. I think I'll invite Buckley Henderson to join me. He's the older fella I spoke with earlier, remember?" Brad nodded dumbly, still feeling bewildered and in a thick sexual fog.
"I know he'd be more than happy to swallow both our loads. He's quite an enthusiastic cum guzzler." The horny librarian took hold of Brad's throbbing dick, feeling the heat of the iron hard tube of meat through his jeans. Brad moaned, closing his eyes and instinctively grabbed Porter's equally rigid cock, running his hand back and forth along its length. He considered accepting the invitation, but his remaining bit of rational thinking brought him back to his more immediate issue.
Brad released his grip, stepping back a few paces and shaking his head to clear his thoughts. "Believe me, I'd love to get my rocks off with you, and any horny locals you know. But I think I need to get back over to the Tiller's garage, and try to get back on the road without stirring up old grudges." He shook Nathan's hand, and as their eyes met, Brad gave in to an impulse, pulling the librarian to him in a hot embrace, and kissing him passionately, their tongues sliding together. Moaning deeply, they ground their hard, heated, engorged baskets together. The kiss only lasted ten seconds or so, but when they released each other, they were both out of breath.
Nathan quickly turned Brad around, pushing him toward the door.
"Go. Quick. Take care of your business with Delmer and his boys. Don't turn your back on 'em, and if you were to stop here on your way out of town, I'd like to give you a more 'personal' farewell gift."
Brad smiled and said, "A hot load of your cum is always a thoughtful gift." They both laughed as Brad left the office, moving briskly through the library to the outside. He smiled when he saw Nathan's blow buddy Buckley. The elderly man nodded toward Brad, but his eyes widened when he saw Brad's bulging erection.
Brad took a moment to readjust his package now that he was out in public. He began walking toward Tiller's Garage, when he saw the Tiller's blue tow truck rumbling toward him, with Dewey behind the wheel. He honked the horn, waved excitedly and swerved to the curb, screeching to a stop beside Brad.
Dewey waved Brad over and shouted over the country music on the radio through the open window. "Hey buddy, I'm glad I saw you! Get in and I'll take you to your car!" Brad sat on the worn, cracked vinyl truck seat. He looked over at Dewey, still wearing the bib overalls. His sizeable dick still bulged down his right thigh, and Brad could easily make out the thick ridge of the boy's cockhead. The overall's zipper was unzipped, giving Brad a clear view of Dewey's dark pubes, and the thick base of
his meat. Driving down the main Street, Brad became concerned when they drove past the garage, heading north out of town.
"Hey...um, Dewey, isn't it? Where are we going? The garage is back that way!" Now that he was privy to more of the history between the Tillers and McCurrys, a feeling of dread gripped his chest.
Dewey smiled, but his eyes looked cold.
"Oh, don't worry none. We needed kinda special equipment to fix your car, and it was back at the farm. We towed the car there and got 'er runnin' just fine. We'll just settle up the bill there, and you'll be on your way." Dewey reached over, patting Brad's left leg.
Brad swallowed hard, trying to keep from showing any fear. Nodding, Brad replied, "Sounds good." He tried to relax, looking out the passenger window at the deep wooded hills as they drove to the Tiller homestead.
End of Part Two