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TEXAS 1956 Vol. 1 – Chapter 9
"Whoa, nice car!" Ty exclaimed, running his hand over the shiny metal. "Don't see too many a-these babies. 1956 Riviera wagon. Plenty a-room fer a growin' family. Ya been doin' a good job keepin' her lookin' new, Kenny."
"Thank you, sir!" Ridgeton replied, proud of his car.
"Say Kenny, I think ya forgot somethin' back inside," Shane said, firmly, his brow furrowed.
"S-s-sir?" Ridgeton answered, worried.
"What do ya say after you've been given what Ty and me gave ya before?" Shane asked, his tone gently mocking. "Come on, little Kenny boy, ya know know better."
Ridgeton paused, wracking his brain. Then he realized that he'd not thanked them for ejaculating into his mouth, or for the piss-filled soft drink bottles.
"Officer Jordan, sir, I'm sorry for forgetting, sir," he said, downcast. "Thank you for what you gave me, sir. And Sergeant Jordan, I'm sorry for forgetting, sir. Thank you for what you gave me, sir. I am really sorry, sir."
Shane smiled and put his arm around Kenny's shoulder.
"Yer still learnin' yer lessons, little fella," he said, in a tone that maximized Ridgeton's humiliation. "I know ya want to leave yer Manhood behind, but sometimes ya forget. But don't keep lettin' it happen. Little fella's always got to remember his place and do as he's told, y'hear?"
"Yes sir," he answered. "I'm really sorry, sir. I'll do my best to remember, sir!"
"Okey doke, then," Shane said. "Ty, I opened the gate. Honk yer horn when ya go through so I can close it. See ya back here with Kenny tomorrow. If ya can get here early enough, say by 10, then Kenny can give yer new car a good scrub-down."
"Sure thing, Shane!" his brother said. "Kenny, hop in. Ya got the keys?"
"Yes sir!" Ridgeton answered, handing them over.
Ty turned the car onto the highway. He stepped on the gas, and the car growled and leaped forward.
"Whoa, Kenny!" he exclaimed. "This thing really goes!"
"Yes sir, it does," Ridgeton replied. "It's the top of the line, and there's a laborer at the lumber yard who's a good mechanic. This car was fast to begin with, but he worked on the engine and made it even faster. Suspension and tires have been beefed up, and I run it with a mixture of ethyl and aviation gas from the base. Hope you like it, sir."
"Well I do like it, Kenny," Ty said. "Ya done a real good job on this car. Yer gonna be pretty disappointed to see 'er go if I take it, I reckon."
"No sir, not at all," Ridgeton replied. "I'd be honored, sir!"
"Yer gonna be takin' a stripped down '54 Ford Mainliner in return," Ty said. "Ain't half the car this is."
"Sir, I'd be happy to trade, sir," Ridgeton said. "As long as Sergeant Jordan wants me to do it, that's enough for me, but I'd be especially happy for you to take it, sir. I bought this car when I thought I could be a family Man, sir. It's too much car for me, sir. It'll be much better in your hands, sir."
They drove in silence for a while, and then Ty spoke.
"Ya know, maybe I ain't been too fair to ya about callin' ya a queer," he said. "It ain't like ya have had a choice in the matter. Not now, and not back then neither. But ya don't seem to object none."
"Sir, I know how it sounds, but I never thought of myself as queer, sir," Ridgeton answered. "When you made me do all those things I would get hard, but it was because I was being told what to do by a Man, sir. Sergeant Jordan's right about all that, sir. I get erections when I'm mowing his lawn, sir. When we were kids, I got hard when I was washing your car, sir."
"If I'm rememberin' right, ya used to stare at my dick," Ty said.
"Yes sir, and I can see why you thought what you did, sir," Ridgeton answered. "But I only looked at your dick back then because it was so big, sir. These days, I'm not so sure, sir. I do like feeling a Man's big dick in my hands, and I often get erect when I'm around Sergeant Jordan, sir. So maybe I really am queer, sir. It just doesn't feel like it, sir. It still feels like wanting to do whatever a Man tells me to do, sir."
As the car approached the city limits, Ty asked Ridgeton where he lived, and Kenny directed him to a large brick house on a prosperous side street.
"Nice place," Ty said. "Ya buy that when ya got married?"
"Yes sir," Ridgeton replied. "It's like this car in a way, sir. I don't think I belong here, to be honest, sir."
"I think I'll come on in and have a look around," Ty said, pulling into the driveway. "Ya can give me a tour."
They entered through a side door that let into the kitchen.
"Can I get you anything to drink, sir?" Ridgeton asked. "I have pretty much of anything, sir."
"Bourbon on the rocks would do it," he replied.
"Water with that, sir?" he asked.
"Nope, just the bourbon."
As Ridgeton went to get Ty's drink, the officer looked around. There was a large formal dining room, a parlor in front, a living room with a large fireplace, and a den paneled in wood. The house was in immaculate condition, with nice carpets on top of shined oak floors.
"Ya keep it in good shape, Kenny boy," Ty said, as Ridgeton returned with the drink.
"Thank you, sir!" he replied, happily. "Would you like like to see upstairs, sir?"
"Sure," Ty replied, walking toward the stairs and climbing.
"It's got three bedrooms, two bathrooms, and a dressing room, sir" Ridgeton said, leading Ty into the master bedroom. A large bed dominated the room, with some comfortable chairs and a lamp off to the side. "I don't sleep in here, sir. I use one of the other ones, sir. This here would be for the Man of the house and his wife, and when I got divorced I moved out, sir."
"Yeah, that'd make sense from everything ya been tellin' us," Ty said. "If ya don't consider yerself a Man, then ya wouldn't want ta be sleepin' in here."
They moved out into the hallway, and Ridgeton gestured toward another room and walked toward it.
"This is where I sleep, sir," he said. "This room and the other one was going to be for children, so I think it's a good place for me, sir."
The room was half the size of the other one and had a single-sized bed, a dresser, and a table with a lamp on top.
"I keep my home clothes in this closet, and my work suits in the closet in the other small bedroom, sir. I don't keep any Man stuff in here, sir," Ridgeton said.
At the foot of the bed there was a stool. Ridgeton noticed Ty looking at it.
"When Sergeant Jordan comes over, sometimes he'll have me sit there and take care of him, sir," he said.
Ty smiled thinly.
"Just like ya took care a-me way back, I suppose," he replied. "Does he give ya some a them Sprites straight from the faucet in here, then?"
"Yes sir!" Ridgeton said. "Thank you for letting me do that, sir."
"And ya drink it all down without spillin' a drop?" Ty said.
"Yes sir!" he replied. "I've learned how to do that, sir."
"Then ya sit right on down and show me what kinda job ya can do," Ty said, his voice firm.
"Yes sir! Thank you, sir!" he replied, sitting on the stool.
Ty took his place in front of Ridgeton. He feet were spread wide, his muscular legs tight against the gray fabric of his uniform, his hands on his hips.
"Unzip my fly. Reach inside, and take my dick out," he said. "Then put it in yer mouth and wait."
As Ridgeton reached for the officer's zipper, he noticed the smooth, starched fabric of the trousers, and how the straight line of of the uniform shirt continued along the straight line of the fly of his gray trousers. Ty's dick wasn't hard, yet there was still a noticeable bulge. Ridgeton unzipped the Man's pants, and carefully reached inside, snaking his hand into the fly of Ty's boxers, and bringing his flaccid member out. Even soft, it seemed enormous, easily twice the size of Ridgeton's own dick when it was hard.
"There ya are, little fella, now put it in yer mouth and let it rest," the officer said, his voice gentle yet determined.
Ridgeton did as he was told, and waited. The stream started, and then the Man was pissing hard into his throat. He swallowed furiously, taking it all as the officer stood over him.
"That a-boy, Kenny," Ty said, gently. "Ya take what a Man's got. Straight outta my dick, little fella."
The stream kept coming, and Ridgeton kept swallowing.
"That's right, buddy boy," Ty said softly. "That a-Kenny boy. Good little fella."
The piss stream tapered off and stopped, but the officer did not withdraw from Ridgeton's mouth. Instead, the seated boy felt it lengthen and become hard. Kenny tightened his mouth, and swirled his tongue, and sucked, and soon Ty's hips began to sway in and out, and he was fucking Kenny's mouth. He reached in his shirt pocket, withdrew the inhaler, took a sniff, and felt his mind race. He reveled in the power of it all. The blowjob in the afternoon, the gift of the car, the swallowing his piss, now the sucking and licking. From Kenny, who'd given up his manhood, who was submissive and eager. Who did it all because it was his place in life to serve Men. His power was absolute, the contrast complete.
"Mmmmmm," he said, pushing deep into Ridgeton's throat and holding still while Kenny looked upward. Their eyes locked, and Ty smiled downward. "That a-good little ol' dicksuckin' little fella. Little boy take what a Man give him. That's a good Kenny boy. Ya do a good ol' job fer me there, little guy. Just a little fella."
The Man's pace quickened, and Ridgeton's eyes fixed on the officer's belt buckle as Ty raped his throat. He could feel everything – the Man's hands moving on his head, alternately rubbing his scalp with his knucles, or playing with one or both of his ears, then cupping the back of his head. And the smooth, stiff starched fabric of the officer's trousers, and the backs of his muscular thighs that he had begun to massage as he felt the Man's dick grow harder and tasted the slick precum on his tongue.
Ty's satisfaction with what he was doing, combined with Ridgeton's humiliation, was intoxicating. As usual when he wasn't with Shane, he had no erection, but it thrilled him to please the Man whose stiff dick was pumping his mouth.
"There ya go, Kenny boy," Ty said, his voice deep and husky. "Time fer a Man to squirt in yer mouth. Ya swallow what I give ya now, little fella. Ya do what yer told, little guy. Oh yeah."
Ridgeton felt a splash against the back of his throat, followed by his mouth filling with thick liquid. He swallowed fast as the Man's dick spasmed and pumped. Still hard, Ty withdrew from Ridgeton's mouth and aimed a final squirt on top of Kenny's head, rubbing the liquid on his scalp and adding some spit.
"Now suck out the rest, buddy boy," he said. "Then put my dick back in where ya found it and zip up my fly."
"Yes sir!" he answered. "Thank you, sir!"
Kenny put the Man's dick back into his mouth and sucked hard, getting the last of the thick liquid. Then he carefully put the softening hose back into the officer's pants and zipped them up.
"Okey doke, little fella," Ty said, brightly, walking out of the room toward the stairs. "Time fer me to get movin'. I'll be back tomorrow, 8:30 or so. Ya can make me breakfast before we got back out to Shane's place."
"Yes sir, I will be waiting, sir!" Kenny replied enthusiastically. "Thanks again, sir."
The order had changed at the plant. Shane was general manager and wore a suit. Kenny was the company accountant and worked in an office near the warehouse, and wore slacks, a white shirt, and a tie. He spent most of his time tracking inventory. He wore his harness with the bump, and Shane would visit his office at least once a day, usually handing him a Sprite. He now called Shane "sir" at work.
He had exchanged his big, beautiful house in town for a bungalow on Shane's acreage out in the country. Shane sold the place, and used the money to have a big house built. Kenny now lived in the bungalow, and spent his free time taking care of both places, doing other chores, and satisfying any other of Shane's needs or wants.
After dinner, Shane walked Ridgeton back into his new house, and led him to the bathroom.
"Ya go take a shower and clean yerself out inside," he said, before opening a drawer and withdrawing a plug and a tube of lotion. "Then spread that on the plug and put it up inside. Then put on yer undershorts and yer t-shirt and wait for me in the living room. And don't ya let that little squirt gun a-yers get stiff until I tell ya."
"Yes sir," Ridgeton replied.
While Ridgeton was inside, Shane did pushups and pullups in the backyard, working up a sweat. He returned ahead of Kenny and sat down. His odor filled the living room, and the armpits of his dark blue work shirt were still damp. He was sitting on the couch in the living room in from of the television. There was only one station, and on Saturday and Sunday nights it showed a steady diet of Westerns.
On the couch, Jordan put his feet up on the coffee table in front of him. Kenny walked in and sat down next to him. Shane wrapped his arm around Kenny's shoulder, and guided his head into his armpit, while fishing his hand down toward his butt. As he gently moved the plug back and forth, he felt and heard Kenny sniffing his armpit while the boy's legs tightened around the Man.
The lotion he'd given Ridgeton was impregnated with a muscle relaxer and erection stimulator, and a version of Correctol known as "cement." It was designed to be used rarely. It worked through the most acute human senses, those of sound, smell and taste, and secondarily through the others. If used correctly, it would create an addiction for the things that happened after it took effect. The simpler the better, the Men were told. A one-to-one setting. The more knowledge of a subservient's makeup, the more effective the drug would be.
Jordan reached in his pocket to withdraw a cigar. He lit it and smoked, while Ridgeton drank in the smell of his armpit, merging with the aroma of the tobacco smoke that he blew downward. Shane had taken his own dose of the supervision formula, and his erection was stiff and large. He moved Kenny's hand there, and guided it around his balls, and onto his hard rod.
Once he had Kenny arranged in the position he wanted him, Shane relaxed and watched TV. He liked Westerns, and this one held his interest. While he watched, he cupped his hand around Ridgeton's rear end, making sure he was tight around his leg and his head was up near his armpit. From time to time he'd press his hand over Kenny's and move it around over his own balls and erection, and at other times he'd manipulate the plug in Kenny's ass, or press his head into his arm pit, saying things like "there ya go," or "that's right, little guy."
"Little Kenny boy, ya been behavin' like ya ought to," Shane said, his tender voice soothing, humiliating to the core. "Okey-doke, little fella, now ya can get yerself all stiff."
Kenny shuddered, and almost instantly he became as erect as he'd ever been. His head filled with overwhelming joy, his senses on fire. He felt the Man's broad chest beneath the slick fabric of the sweaty, starched dark blue work shirt. Drunk on lust and humiliation, he was intoxicated by everything, the feeling heightened by the contrast between his boyish near nakedness and the Man in his clothes.
"Ya been keepin' everything all shaved down for me, little fella?" the Man asked.
"Yes sir!" Kenny answered. "I check every day, sir."
"Ya know why that is, don't ya?"
"Yes sir, it's because hair is for Men and I am not a Man, sir," he said. "You're the Man, sir, and I do as I'm told, sir."
"That a boy, Kenny," he said. "Why don't ya see what a Man's got for ya then."
His hand wandered down to Shane's erection that pressed up against the slick fabric of his starched, dark blue work pants. He felt its length and width, and the heat warming his hand, and he tightened his body around the Man's thick, hard legs, and breathed his scent deeply into his lungs. It mixed with the aroma of the Man's cigar, and Kenny was mesmerized by the Man's masculinity. On his own, he moved his body lower on Shane's leg until his mouth was in the Man's crotch.
He blew on the Man's balls through the work pants and ran his hand over the hard log in the Man's pants. Shane's enormous erection never failed to amaze, intrigue, and intimidate him. Somewhere in a place he couldn't understand, he connected it directly to a Man's authority and masculinity. The mere sight of a large erection was both humiliating and fascinating in any circumstance. Now, it was as if he was in another world, under a spell.
Shane waited until Kenny had withdrawn his hand from his erection, then chuckled softly and playfully patted his own hardon.
"Ya been getting' friendlier with that ol' thing, haven't ya, little guy?" he said, his voice tender, playful, mocking. "Don't matter what anyone calls what ya been doin' with my stiff ol' dick. Ya know that everything is right for ya. Now don't ya, little Kenny boy?"
"Yes sir," he said softly, barely able to breathe. "Thank you, sir."
The Man guided him back up to where he'd been, and now one gigantic hand was on the plug while the other swept casually across Kenny's tight t-shirt. It brushed against one of his erect nipples, and then squeezed. A jolt of electricity coursed through the boy. He shuddered and tightened hard around the Man's leg.
"Thank you, sir!" he whispered. The Man chuckled again, his tone condescending and humiliating. He reached into his pocket and withdrew the inhaler, and pressed it against one of Kenny's nostrils.
"Only a little," the Man said, gently but firmly. He sniffed, and the room caught fire. He felt the Man's thumb against his lips, and he opened to let it in.
"That a-little Kenny boy," the Man said. "That a little fella. Ya suck on yer Big Man's thumb like it's his dick, little Kenny boy. Just a little boy, now. Ain't it good fer a little Kenny boy to be doin' what he's told? That's what a little boy does when he ain't wantin' to be a Man. Suck on what's in yer mouth, now."
Kenny sucked and licked the Man's thumb, holding tight onto his thick, hairy arm with both hands. The humiliation of the moment was electrifying, the Man's syrupy sweetness mocking him every second of the way.
"Little 'ol Kenny boy," he repeated, tender and seductive, blowing some more of his cigar smoke. "Just a little Kenny boy, learnin' how to treat a Man. Little ol' Kenny boy likes keepin' a Man happy 'n satisfied, now don't he?"
"Mmm, hmm," Kenny moaned, squeezing and stroking Shane's muscular arm while sucking even harder on the Man's thumb. Shane sniffed from the inhaler, and gave Kenny a sniff, and reached around with his free hand and kept brushing and squeezing the boy's nipple through his t-shirt. Kenny moaned and his body was quivering, squeezing tight around Shane's leg.
While holding Kenny tightly against his body, his one hand pressing against the plug, he stood up and carried him out of the living room to the bedroom. He laid the boy, now panting heavily, on his back on the bedspread. Jordan stood at the end of the bed, his erection pressing sideways in his tight blue work pants. He removed his boots, then his pants. He took off his shirt and his undershirt, revealing a thick carpet of hair on his wide torso. He withdrew another cigar from his shirt pocket and lit it, and put it in his mouth. He removed his boxer shorts, freeing his member, which sprang free, the head purple and slick with precum.
He moved onto the bed, placing his cigar into an ashtray on the nightstand after aiming a puff of smoke downward. He reached for a bottle of lotion and the inhaler, and removed the boy's shorts and t-shirt. Smiling and looking into Kenny's eyes, he carefully removed the plug. Then he handed the lotion to Kenny.
"Grease yer hole up then grease up my stiff dick, little guy," Jordan said. The boy complied, and soon the Man was slicked up and ready.
"Now spread yer legs nice 'n wide, and grab the back of yer knees with yer hands," he said.
Kenny complied, and the Man ran his hands along the smooth, thin legs, and arranged Kenny's ankles atop his shoulders. He grabbed Kenny's wrists and moved his arms above his head, then gently ran his thumbs inside the man-boy's smooth armpits, and then his hands across his boyish, hairless chest and bare nipples, and back along his legs. "There ya are, little guy," the Man said, his tender voice and his touch emphasizing their contrast. "Kenny do as Kenny's told, little fella. That's right, little guy."
He gently eased his stiff pole into the boy's hole, then pulled back. Then he returned, and repeated the invasion over and over, going in a bit farther each time. Eventually he was all the way in, and he slowly picked up the pace.
"That a-boy, good little Kenny boy," he said, his voice hypnotic, seductive, and tender, yet also firm and authoritative. Now the Man was rocking in and out, making sure to plunge all the way in with each thrust. Kenny gazed into the Man's eyes, as Shane pumped in and out, making sure to penetrate his inner ring with each thrust.
"That a-little Kenny boy," he said, his voice as sweet and slippery as molasses. "Little fella ain't ever been a Man, and ain't never wanted it. Kenny boy do as he's told. Ain't that right, little fella? Just a little ol' Kenny boy, do as he's told. "
"Yes sir!" he replied, breathless. "Yes sir! Yes sir!"
"I'm gonna run ya from now on, little fella," he said, staring into Kenny's eyes while he drove his iron rod home. The rocked steady in and out, his rhythm causing Kenny's insides to throb with excitement. "I'll be yer law. Ain't never gonna be but one Man, little ol' Kenny boy. Kenny boy gonna do as he's told."
"Yes sir!" Kenny replied. "Thank you, sir! Yes sir!"