Page 2
forearms were massive and the pecs great slabs of hard curved muscle. Black hair swirled over the chest and down over the ridged belly, thickening as it disappeared under the wide leather belt. And it was what Jose had seen below that belt that had made his guts twist with lust. Bradburn was hung like a donkey and the tight, damp denim left very little to the imagination.
It was sundown before they'd been through and they'd all sluiced off the sweat and dirt at the pump before trooping, bare-chested, into the house. Mamma had laid out dinner on the huge kitchen table, which they attacked with great gusto. Then afterwards, they had sat around the table, relaxed and laughing. It was getting late, when Bradburn had said to Jose's mother, "Will you please excuse me, Senora? I need to go out for a smoke."
"You are my guest Senor, please feel free to smoke here."
"That is kind, but I need a breath of air, Senora."
Jose's mother had smiled and nodded her head and Bradburn had gone outside. Jose had been so horny his balls were aching but he'd waited a while before excusing himself and going looking for the Marshal. He'd found him, with his elbows leaning on the newly repaired fence, gazing out at the moonlit prairie. Putting his arm around Bradburn's huge shoulders, he'd felt the hard muscles stir as the Marshal turned his head to look at him. Jose had gazed at the rugged bearded face for a long moment before he'd closed his mouth over the half-parted lips. For several minutes, Bradburn had returned the passionate kiss, then he'd gently pushed Jose away. "No, not now...its not right....I,"
the Marshal had said, his voice, deep and husky. Appalled by what he'd done, Jose blurted out,
"Oh My God, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that. Too much wine, I guess, on top of everything else.
But I'm grateful to you, we all are." There had been a tense moment before Bradburn had chuckled
and Jose had felt that tightening under his heart again ."I'll take that as a compliment. Smoke?" They'd smoked their cheroots in companionable silence, before returning slowly to the ranch.
Jose had thought often of Bradburn's words, remembering the feel of his muscles under his arm and the smell of his sweat and maleness. It had to be Corky, he'd reasoned. Two big virile men, shacked-
up in a couple of pokey rooms above the Jailhouse. Jose could'nt have been more wrong!
The thought of Abe, coming through the saloon doors any moment made Corky's cock stir and his irritation with Jose was forgotten. Since he'd first laid eyes on the big bastard some six months he'd wanted him up him. A score of times, he'd caught him naked and had openly eyed up the superb body and awesome cock, making no secret of what he wanted. He'd also taken every opportunity to show Bradburn his own tight rounded butt. Desire still burned in him fiercely but his frustration had gradually turned to festering reesentment. He even caught himself wondering if he even hated Bradburn. "A penny for them Cork," Jose said.
"Oh sure, gimme another shot," Corky replied with a grin. He looked at his handsome friend and felt his spirits lifting. He was about to get the fuck of his life.
The doors of the saloon opened and Bradburn strode in, nodding to guys who greeted him as he made his way to the bar. Corky's guts twisted as he saw the great bulge of cock, still hard from his ride, and turned his head to call the barman. Jose just stared. Bradburn knew what the Spanish guy was looking at and felt a surge of pleasure. Nobody out here in the territory, leastways not during the hot summer, wore any underwear and it was a common enough sight to see a guy hard in his levis and not caring a damn who saw. The good-looking Hispanic must have seen scores of bulging crutches and Bradburn realised that he cared. He flung an arm around the Deputy's shoulders and gave him a rough hug, before turning to Jose. "Your father saw the people he needed to see and had a talk with Captain White, in charge of the cavalry allotted to the territory. Seems there's been quite a few Injun raids lately and he'll be moving his troops up north soon.
"Thanks Abe, I guess I'll be getting along home to the ranch," Jose said, stretching out his hand.
Bradburn grasped it and felt a jolt of excitement. He held it a little longer than necessary , enjoying the feel of the strong fingers gripping his. Jose gave Corky a playful punch in the shoulder. "I'm going down to do some fishing about an hour before sundown, coming along?"
"Yeah sure, the usual place?" Corky replied, his spirits rising even higher. The big waterhole at Red Rock was where they swam, fished and fucked. His cock began to harden.
They watched Jose leave and, as they refilled their glasses, the saloon doors swung open again. Seeing Bradburn's eyes widen, Corky turned to look at the man who had just entered, and now it was his time to stare. He was the biggest man Corky had ever seen. His plaited flaxen hair and thick moustache reminded Corky of the pictures of Viking warriors he'd seen in books as a kid. Corky's mouth went dry when he saw the man's crutch. The man's glans was hidden by his chaps but Corky could see that he could give Bradburn a run for his money.
Viking stood, legs wide braced, his right close to his gun and stared at the two law men. Bradburn looked as mean and as dangerous as ever he thought and turned his attention to the Deputy. Very nice, he thought. very nice indeed as he noted the ginger man's muscular body. The guy's eyes were rivetted to his crutch and Viking smiled to himself. This could be very interesting. Bradburn's deep voice snapped like a whip, "What are you doing in town, Ohlson?"
"Came in to have a few beers. Free world ain't it?"
"Sure for people who behave and keep their fists to themselves."
"An' what if I don't Bradburn? Gonna try 'n give me another hidin?"
"Yeah if I have to."
"I said try, Bradburn. Cos when you do, I'm gonna beat you to pulp."
The Marshal took a step forward, his eyes blazing.
"Easy," Viking said, "I'll decide when. I want all your fuckin' lickspittles to see it."
"Why you arrogant..."
"Okay, Marshal, sir, I'm goin'. The guys who drink down at the bar by the Livery suit me a whole lot better." Viking winked at the still gawping Deputy and turned on his heel.
Viking climbed into the saddle and grinned to himself as he headed back to the bar where he'd left a couple of ranchhands drinking. If the Deputy was Bradburn's buddy that would be real handy. By the way the ginger dude had been looking at his pecker just now, he knew he'd come looking for it. Viking decided he'd come to Tyler again in a couple of days, on his own, and he'd make damn sure
that the Deputy got it.
Chapter 3
It was nearly a week beflore Viking got to Tyler again. The Boss had been fucking around preparing for his annual visit to Denver and had kept him pretty busy. But now the old bastard had gone, leaving Viking in charge of the ranch for two months. In a day or so, he'd send a couple of the men down to Tyler for a wagonload of booze. Then he'd let the guys off the rein for a night. They were as horny as hell and it'd be fun to see which ones got nailed. Anyway, there were a couple of asses that he'd earmarked for his own personal atrtention. Outside the Livery he climbed off his horse, even more fucking hard than usual, and tossed the reins to the bare-chested hostler. He dug his hand into the ass-pocket of his levis for some coins and noticed that the hairy bastard's eyes were glued to his groin. "You're a big guy, reckon you can take that? he said, expecting the man to back off. The hostler's cheeks flushed red but he didn't. Instead he surprised Viking by saying, "Yep, I ain't met a stallion yet that I couldn't accomodate."
"I'll bear that in mind," Viking replied with a grin.
"You do that mister, it'll be real pleasure fitting you in."
Both men roared with laughter. Viking paid the man and still laughing headed for the bar.
"Nope, he's out at the Rugero ranch. The Marshal's been up at the Hispanic place a few times since the Injun raid," the bartender replied to Viking's question. Then added, "But the Deputy's up at the Jailhouse if you want him." You bet your sweet ass I want him, Viking thought, and took a sip of rye.
Then picking his words carefully he asked, "How's he get on with the Marshal? He seems an arrogant son-of-a-bitch to me."
"Oh they're real buddies. Though sometimes Bradburn tries to 'big-brother' Corky. Pisses him to hell."
"Sure it does," Viking replied feeling very pleased with himself. He took another sip, it was just what he wanted to hear.
Saturday, 4 January 2014
The Marshal Page 1
Page 1
The showdown finally came. The foreman and the big blond cowboy, squared up to each other. Abe Bradburn a big man, with close-cropped black hair and beard, was half a head shorter than the huge swede, who, with his long blond hair pulled back into a thick plait and his huge walrus moustache, was known as Viking by the ranchhands. Bradburn was a hard uncompromising man, who expected his orders to be followed to the letter. Although not liked particularly by the men, he was respected for his toughness and fair-dealing. But Viking, in the short time he had been at the ranch, had earned little respect. The hands found him cocky and loud, and he intiminated them by his sheer size. They gathered round exitedly, eager to see which one of these tough sons-of-bitch would bite the dust.
Bradburn's deep voice held the unmistakable ring of authority as he said, "I'll forget what you said, if you get your ass back to the bunkhouse."
"Like the fuck I will asshole," Viking sneered in his heavily accented English and threw a wild haymaker at the foreman. Bradburn ducked and as the huge fist whistled over his head, stepped forward and delivered two hard blows to Viking's body. The cowboy staggered back and Bradburn came inside the bigger man's reach again to drive a right cross at his head. The blow rocked Viking on his feet and in desperation he drove his right fist hard up into the foreman's belly. The punch had all the bigger man's weight behind it and Bradburn, giving an explosive grunt as he was propelled backwards, stumbled over his feet and went down. One of ranchhands yipped and yelled, "C'mon Viking, stomp on the bastards's bollocks," his face flushed and his stiff cock tenting the front of his levis. But the foreman was on his feet in an instant and as he straightened up, slammed his fist into Viking's belly. Now it was the cowboy's turn to grunt and, as he bucked forward, Bradburn's right arm swept up, in a terrific uppercut. Viking's head snapped back, his body arched and he went down onto his back. There were howls of delight from the hands as Bradburn, reached down and yanked the dazed cowboy to his feet. "Ready to do what you're told mister?" Viking made no reply as he brushed sand from the arms of his torn shirt. "Yeah, blondie, say yes real nice to the man," a ranchhand yelled and all the men roared with laughter. Viking looked around at the jeering men before turning his face back to Bradburn. "My God, you'll pay for that," he hissed and drove his fist into the foreman's mouth. Bradburn rode the punch but felt the salty taste of blood on his tongue as he dodged aside.
The two men traded punches, but Bradburn's were harder, more telling and the hands began to cheer as the bigger man weakened. The foreman drove the bruised, bleeding cowboy around, grudgingly admiring the guy's capacity for taking punishment before he finally sank to the floor. The last thing Viking heard, before darkness closed over him, was the hand's whoops of delight. They'd pay.
Vengeance, of a kind, was soon forthcoming. Hearing of the fight, which the Boss termed a beating, he summoned Bradburn. They had heated words and the foreman was fired on the spot. Seeing Viking as a big tough man and feeling misplaced sympathy for him, the Boss made him the new foreman. Methodically, Viking picked on the guys who had mocked him giving them all a good hiding. He'd started with the softer targets, gaining experience att the time, until he had improved enough to take on the tougher men. When he had all the hands on the ranch under his domination, he began to take on the dudes that came in all the time on the drives. These were real mean bastards and several times he'd gotten the worst of the encounter. But he learnt how to fight with fist, boot, knee and any weapon he could lay his hands on. He loved to subjugate the really butch ones and would make them lick his boots until he was quietly told that these guys expected more it they got beaten.
They wanted total humiliation. They expected to be fucked in the ass. The first time he'd rammed home his thick eleven inches the dude had hollered and begged for mercy. It had been the best fuck of his life. For Viking everything seemed to be going just great until he heard that Bradburn had showed up in Tyler, the nearest town His skill with his fists and gun had gotten him the job of Deputy and very soon he was promoted to Marshal.
Chapter 2
In The Last Chance Saloon, Deputy Marshal Corky Drew stood at the bar. At just under six feet, he was a good-looking dude. The small neat nose over the auburn moustache made him look younger than his 35 years. He was broad-shouldered and his tight muscular body was the inheritance of farming as a youngster and the many hard years railroading. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the bar and the denim pulled tight across his beautiful butt, round, hard and sassy. He turnd his head to look at the man propping up the bar beside him, "How's your Maw takin' all this Jose?"
"Oh she's okay, Cork, she feels safe enough with me and my brothers. Anyways, Paw will be back from Red Butte by now. Abe said he'd take him back to the ranch on his way here to Tyler."
As he looked at his friend, Corky felt a stab of jealousy. He'd been seeing too damn much of Abe recently. He was about the same height as Corky but leaner. He had a small, slightly aquiline nose, large deep brown eyes and high cheekbones. He wore a neatly trimmed black moustache over his full, sensual lips and his beard-shadowed jaw was firm and square. He was also, Corky knew, as horny as hell. And Corky had fucked him in barns, corrals, out on the prairie and even in the Jailhouse office.
He didn't seem to be able to get enough cock up his tight little Spanish ass. And by Christ, thought Corky, there was plenty in the nearly all male town. He pulled out his watch and, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice said to Jose, "The Marshal said that they'd leave Red Butte at sun-up. I guess he'll be here any minute now."
Jose had seen the look on Corky's face when he'd mentioned Abe by name and felt a tinge of guilt.
It had been two weeks now since the rustlers had attacked their ranch. The had smashed the fences of one corral, taken a dozen horses and fired the barn before Jose's father. brothers and hired hands drove them off. Abe Bradburn had telegraphed the brand details down to Red Butte but it looked more like an Injun raid and it was very unlikely they'd see their horses again. One of the hands had taken a bullet and had been hurt bad, and the Marshal had lifted the young Mexican into his huge arms and carried him to his horse. Then holding him as gently as if he'd been a babe, he rode down to the doctor in Tyler and Jose had felt a tightness under the heart. With the wounded boy in safe hands, Bradburn had returned to the ranch, stripped to the waist and laboured alongside his Paw and brothers, repairing the fences and partly-burnt barn. It was then that Jose had felt a tightness some-
where else. The Marshal's torso, wide-shouldered and deep chested, was awesome. The biceps and
The showdown finally came. The foreman and the big blond cowboy, squared up to each other. Abe Bradburn a big man, with close-cropped black hair and beard, was half a head shorter than the huge swede, who, with his long blond hair pulled back into a thick plait and his huge walrus moustache, was known as Viking by the ranchhands. Bradburn was a hard uncompromising man, who expected his orders to be followed to the letter. Although not liked particularly by the men, he was respected for his toughness and fair-dealing. But Viking, in the short time he had been at the ranch, had earned little respect. The hands found him cocky and loud, and he intiminated them by his sheer size. They gathered round exitedly, eager to see which one of these tough sons-of-bitch would bite the dust.
Bradburn's deep voice held the unmistakable ring of authority as he said, "I'll forget what you said, if you get your ass back to the bunkhouse."
"Like the fuck I will asshole," Viking sneered in his heavily accented English and threw a wild haymaker at the foreman. Bradburn ducked and as the huge fist whistled over his head, stepped forward and delivered two hard blows to Viking's body. The cowboy staggered back and Bradburn came inside the bigger man's reach again to drive a right cross at his head. The blow rocked Viking on his feet and in desperation he drove his right fist hard up into the foreman's belly. The punch had all the bigger man's weight behind it and Bradburn, giving an explosive grunt as he was propelled backwards, stumbled over his feet and went down. One of ranchhands yipped and yelled, "C'mon Viking, stomp on the bastards's bollocks," his face flushed and his stiff cock tenting the front of his levis. But the foreman was on his feet in an instant and as he straightened up, slammed his fist into Viking's belly. Now it was the cowboy's turn to grunt and, as he bucked forward, Bradburn's right arm swept up, in a terrific uppercut. Viking's head snapped back, his body arched and he went down onto his back. There were howls of delight from the hands as Bradburn, reached down and yanked the dazed cowboy to his feet. "Ready to do what you're told mister?" Viking made no reply as he brushed sand from the arms of his torn shirt. "Yeah, blondie, say yes real nice to the man," a ranchhand yelled and all the men roared with laughter. Viking looked around at the jeering men before turning his face back to Bradburn. "My God, you'll pay for that," he hissed and drove his fist into the foreman's mouth. Bradburn rode the punch but felt the salty taste of blood on his tongue as he dodged aside.
The two men traded punches, but Bradburn's were harder, more telling and the hands began to cheer as the bigger man weakened. The foreman drove the bruised, bleeding cowboy around, grudgingly admiring the guy's capacity for taking punishment before he finally sank to the floor. The last thing Viking heard, before darkness closed over him, was the hand's whoops of delight. They'd pay.
Vengeance, of a kind, was soon forthcoming. Hearing of the fight, which the Boss termed a beating, he summoned Bradburn. They had heated words and the foreman was fired on the spot. Seeing Viking as a big tough man and feeling misplaced sympathy for him, the Boss made him the new foreman. Methodically, Viking picked on the guys who had mocked him giving them all a good hiding. He'd started with the softer targets, gaining experience att the time, until he had improved enough to take on the tougher men. When he had all the hands on the ranch under his domination, he began to take on the dudes that came in all the time on the drives. These were real mean bastards and several times he'd gotten the worst of the encounter. But he learnt how to fight with fist, boot, knee and any weapon he could lay his hands on. He loved to subjugate the really butch ones and would make them lick his boots until he was quietly told that these guys expected more it they got beaten.
They wanted total humiliation. They expected to be fucked in the ass. The first time he'd rammed home his thick eleven inches the dude had hollered and begged for mercy. It had been the best fuck of his life. For Viking everything seemed to be going just great until he heard that Bradburn had showed up in Tyler, the nearest town His skill with his fists and gun had gotten him the job of Deputy and very soon he was promoted to Marshal.
Chapter 2
In The Last Chance Saloon, Deputy Marshal Corky Drew stood at the bar. At just under six feet, he was a good-looking dude. The small neat nose over the auburn moustache made him look younger than his 35 years. He was broad-shouldered and his tight muscular body was the inheritance of farming as a youngster and the many hard years railroading. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on the bar and the denim pulled tight across his beautiful butt, round, hard and sassy. He turnd his head to look at the man propping up the bar beside him, "How's your Maw takin' all this Jose?"
"Oh she's okay, Cork, she feels safe enough with me and my brothers. Anyways, Paw will be back from Red Butte by now. Abe said he'd take him back to the ranch on his way here to Tyler."
As he looked at his friend, Corky felt a stab of jealousy. He'd been seeing too damn much of Abe recently. He was about the same height as Corky but leaner. He had a small, slightly aquiline nose, large deep brown eyes and high cheekbones. He wore a neatly trimmed black moustache over his full, sensual lips and his beard-shadowed jaw was firm and square. He was also, Corky knew, as horny as hell. And Corky had fucked him in barns, corrals, out on the prairie and even in the Jailhouse office.
He didn't seem to be able to get enough cock up his tight little Spanish ass. And by Christ, thought Corky, there was plenty in the nearly all male town. He pulled out his watch and, trying to keep the annoyance out of his voice said to Jose, "The Marshal said that they'd leave Red Butte at sun-up. I guess he'll be here any minute now."
Jose had seen the look on Corky's face when he'd mentioned Abe by name and felt a tinge of guilt.
It had been two weeks now since the rustlers had attacked their ranch. The had smashed the fences of one corral, taken a dozen horses and fired the barn before Jose's father. brothers and hired hands drove them off. Abe Bradburn had telegraphed the brand details down to Red Butte but it looked more like an Injun raid and it was very unlikely they'd see their horses again. One of the hands had taken a bullet and had been hurt bad, and the Marshal had lifted the young Mexican into his huge arms and carried him to his horse. Then holding him as gently as if he'd been a babe, he rode down to the doctor in Tyler and Jose had felt a tightness under the heart. With the wounded boy in safe hands, Bradburn had returned to the ranch, stripped to the waist and laboured alongside his Paw and brothers, repairing the fences and partly-burnt barn. It was then that Jose had felt a tightness some-
where else. The Marshal's torso, wide-shouldered and deep chested, was awesome. The biceps and
Friday, 3 January 2014
A tale from the Wild West
We'll start the New Year with a tale from the Wild West for a change. For those who liked the Boer War stories, there are more to follow.
TAM
TAM
Wednesday, 18 December 2013
The Scout Page 11
Page 11
"Now I suggest that you go off and get to know each other really well. Your lives could one day depend on it. There are, I understand. several reputable taverns in the town. Are there any questions?"
"No sir," both men replied.
"Very well, that will be all."
Safely, well away from the De Wet headquarters, Reitz threw a beefy arm around Piet's bull neck and gave a loud guffaw. "My God, I thought we were really for it," Piet said, before he too roared with laughter. When their merriment subsided, both men were acutely aware that their faces were only inches apart and their hard muscular bodies tantalisingly close. Piet whispered, I've been beaten, fucked and tortured in the last couple of days. It tought me a lot."
"Taught you what, for example?"
"That I enjoyed it all, especially getting fucked rough and hard." Reitz made no reply but his dark eyes glittered with excitement and Piet added,
"I've got plenty to show you."
"Come on then let's find that beer," Reitz said, his voice low and husky.
"No," Piet said, "Let's find a bed."
The End
"Now I suggest that you go off and get to know each other really well. Your lives could one day depend on it. There are, I understand. several reputable taverns in the town. Are there any questions?"
"No sir," both men replied.
"Very well, that will be all."
Safely, well away from the De Wet headquarters, Reitz threw a beefy arm around Piet's bull neck and gave a loud guffaw. "My God, I thought we were really for it," Piet said, before he too roared with laughter. When their merriment subsided, both men were acutely aware that their faces were only inches apart and their hard muscular bodies tantalisingly close. Piet whispered, I've been beaten, fucked and tortured in the last couple of days. It tought me a lot."
"Taught you what, for example?"
"That I enjoyed it all, especially getting fucked rough and hard." Reitz made no reply but his dark eyes glittered with excitement and Piet added,
"I've got plenty to show you."
"Come on then let's find that beer," Reitz said, his voice low and husky.
"No," Piet said, "Let's find a bed."
The End
The Scout Page 10
Page 10
Chapter 12
As he approached the Boer stronghold, Piet pieced together the story he would tell. The truth, but not the whole truth would be best, he thought as he strode towards the two husky young guards. One of them recognised him and a broad grin split his young bearded face as he shouted, "Van Rieneeck, where the fuck have you been.? The old man's been waiting for you. Go on through, Otto will take you to him."
He followed Otto, the clump of their boots sounding very loud on the bare wooden floorboards, and halted before the closed door. Otto rapped smartly and a moment later Piet heard the familiar voice shout, "Come." Otto threw open the door and said,
"Van Riebeeck has arrived sir."
"Has he indeed, show him in then Prinsloo." Otto stepped briskly aside and Piet saw De Wet sitting at a desk. Feat gripped him and his legs seemed to turn to water. "Don't stand there like an idiot, come here, you've a lot of explaining to do." Piet shuffled forward and stood before the desk. "You were expected two days ago, where the hell have you been.?"
"I...." Piet began and dried up. The old man's fits of temper were legendary and when crossed he was known to make liberal use of his sjambok. Indeed the heavy rhino whip lay there now, curled on the desk beside the general. Piet began again, haltingly, but gained confidence as he got into his stride. De Wet did not interrupt but sat calmly listening. When he had finished, there was a long silence and Piet began to sweat. De Wet suddenly snapped, "Why didn't the farmers kill you right away?" Piet's heart sank, this was the question he was dreading.
"They said that they were going to amuse themselves before they slit my throat."
"Why would two run-away farmers want to torture another Boer? You are not telling me the truth, are you, Van Riebeeck?"
"Yes sir, I mean, I don't know sir."
"They had no intention of tortuing you, did they, so what did they mean by 'amuse themselves' eh Man?" Unable to reply, Piet could only shake his head.
"They intended to commit an unnatural act with you, didn't they? Piet felt himself trembling and he could only shake his head again.
"Don't lie to me Van Riebeeck, they were going to abuse you, weren't they? De Wet shouted.
Piet managed a nod and De Wet said, more calmly,
"Ah, so that was it, the filthy scum. And did they?" Piet was now visibly shaking and tears pricked his eyes as he stared at a point above De Wet's head.
"Answer me, Man, did they?" De Wet roared
"Y..Yes," Piet managed to whisper faintly. De Wet rose to his feet and yelled,
"What? Speak up, Did they? Piet took a steadying breath,
"Yes Sir" and lowered his head.
"Filthy abominations, you killed one and you say the leopard took the other?"
"Yes Sir." Not daring to look up, Piet heard the general give a deep sigh.
"Considering how unlucky, or shall we say careless, you'd been on this mission, that was a stroke of luck."
"Yes Sir."
"It was also fortunate, that you were able to free yourself afterwards. Though its not surprising really. Most farmers can't manage anything more advanced than a granny knot." Piet raised his head and the general said,
"This whole matter is most unsatisfactory and we'll deal with it later. Can you swear that you were not compromised by the Khakis?"
"Yes sir."
"Very well. Be so kind as to bring in my aide from the outer office." Piet opened the door and the young aide came bustling in, notebook and pencil in hand. He sat in the chair beside the desk and the general looked at Piet.
"Well have your report now, Mr Van Riebeeck."
De Wet listened intently and when Piet had finished, asked some very shrewd questions, which he answered, with growing confidence. But when the general finally sat back and stared balefully at him, he felt a stab of unease. "Thank you, that was excellent. Now we must deal with the matter of your capture and the consequences." Piet began to sweat again,when the general turned to his aide
"That will be all. See if you can find Reitz and have him come here immediately." The young man left and De Wet said,
"We will say no more about your treatment at the hands of the farmers but we cannot ignore the matter of your seizure and interrogation by the British. Piet was now really frightened. His eyes strayed to the sjambok and he guessed that Reitz must be some big thug who was going to string him up and flog him. De Wet reached into a drawer, drew out a document, and began to read, ignoring the big bearded man standing before him. The minutes ticked by inexoraby until at last there was a loud knock on the door. Piet started violently, then gaped in amazement as the door opened to reveal Reitz.
The big, broad-shouldered, bearded figure standing in the doorway, eyeing him warily, was the man he'd fucked back in the summer.
"Ah, come in Reitz and close the door," the general said. As the man complied and strode over to stand beside him, Piet ran his eyes over the muscular body, which he remembered so well. He was also pleased to see that, like himself, he wore no underdrawers. He got a fleeting glimpse of the clearly discernable half-hard cock in the tight trousers before he lifted his eyes to meet Reitz's gaze.
He opened his mouth to speak but something in the man's dark blue eyes warned him to silence.
De Wet looked at the two husky men standing before him with their arms behind their backs and their legs apart. Both the same height, dark, bearded and virile, they could have been brothers, he thought as he addressed Reitz,
"Van Reibeeck here fell into the hands of the enemy on his last mission but luckily, for all concerned, he was able to escape before he was made to divulge any information." De Wet paused, and looked each man squarely in the eye, before continuing,
"Although the bravery and loyalty of both of you were never in doubt, your behaviour has, for some time, given me grave misgivings." The scouts exchanged nervous glances and the general went on,
"Your devil-may-care attitude and insistence on riding alone on missions will no longer be tolerated. Is that understood?" Both men nodded.
"In future you will ride together. With your combined skills, you should hopefully, be able to keep each other out of trouble. Piet felt an enormous surge of relief and turned to look at Reitz. His eyes regarded the general gravely but from the way they puckered at the corners, Piet guessed that the neatly trimmed beard hid a small smile.
Chapter 12
As he approached the Boer stronghold, Piet pieced together the story he would tell. The truth, but not the whole truth would be best, he thought as he strode towards the two husky young guards. One of them recognised him and a broad grin split his young bearded face as he shouted, "Van Rieneeck, where the fuck have you been.? The old man's been waiting for you. Go on through, Otto will take you to him."
He followed Otto, the clump of their boots sounding very loud on the bare wooden floorboards, and halted before the closed door. Otto rapped smartly and a moment later Piet heard the familiar voice shout, "Come." Otto threw open the door and said,
"Van Riebeeck has arrived sir."
"Has he indeed, show him in then Prinsloo." Otto stepped briskly aside and Piet saw De Wet sitting at a desk. Feat gripped him and his legs seemed to turn to water. "Don't stand there like an idiot, come here, you've a lot of explaining to do." Piet shuffled forward and stood before the desk. "You were expected two days ago, where the hell have you been.?"
"I...." Piet began and dried up. The old man's fits of temper were legendary and when crossed he was known to make liberal use of his sjambok. Indeed the heavy rhino whip lay there now, curled on the desk beside the general. Piet began again, haltingly, but gained confidence as he got into his stride. De Wet did not interrupt but sat calmly listening. When he had finished, there was a long silence and Piet began to sweat. De Wet suddenly snapped, "Why didn't the farmers kill you right away?" Piet's heart sank, this was the question he was dreading.
"They said that they were going to amuse themselves before they slit my throat."
"Why would two run-away farmers want to torture another Boer? You are not telling me the truth, are you, Van Riebeeck?"
"Yes sir, I mean, I don't know sir."
"They had no intention of tortuing you, did they, so what did they mean by 'amuse themselves' eh Man?" Unable to reply, Piet could only shake his head.
"They intended to commit an unnatural act with you, didn't they? Piet felt himself trembling and he could only shake his head again.
"Don't lie to me Van Riebeeck, they were going to abuse you, weren't they? De Wet shouted.
Piet managed a nod and De Wet said, more calmly,
"Ah, so that was it, the filthy scum. And did they?" Piet was now visibly shaking and tears pricked his eyes as he stared at a point above De Wet's head.
"Answer me, Man, did they?" De Wet roared
"Y..Yes," Piet managed to whisper faintly. De Wet rose to his feet and yelled,
"What? Speak up, Did they? Piet took a steadying breath,
"Yes Sir" and lowered his head.
"Filthy abominations, you killed one and you say the leopard took the other?"
"Yes Sir." Not daring to look up, Piet heard the general give a deep sigh.
"Considering how unlucky, or shall we say careless, you'd been on this mission, that was a stroke of luck."
"Yes Sir."
"It was also fortunate, that you were able to free yourself afterwards. Though its not surprising really. Most farmers can't manage anything more advanced than a granny knot." Piet raised his head and the general said,
"This whole matter is most unsatisfactory and we'll deal with it later. Can you swear that you were not compromised by the Khakis?"
"Yes sir."
"Very well. Be so kind as to bring in my aide from the outer office." Piet opened the door and the young aide came bustling in, notebook and pencil in hand. He sat in the chair beside the desk and the general looked at Piet.
"Well have your report now, Mr Van Riebeeck."
De Wet listened intently and when Piet had finished, asked some very shrewd questions, which he answered, with growing confidence. But when the general finally sat back and stared balefully at him, he felt a stab of unease. "Thank you, that was excellent. Now we must deal with the matter of your capture and the consequences." Piet began to sweat again,when the general turned to his aide
"That will be all. See if you can find Reitz and have him come here immediately." The young man left and De Wet said,
"We will say no more about your treatment at the hands of the farmers but we cannot ignore the matter of your seizure and interrogation by the British. Piet was now really frightened. His eyes strayed to the sjambok and he guessed that Reitz must be some big thug who was going to string him up and flog him. De Wet reached into a drawer, drew out a document, and began to read, ignoring the big bearded man standing before him. The minutes ticked by inexoraby until at last there was a loud knock on the door. Piet started violently, then gaped in amazement as the door opened to reveal Reitz.
The big, broad-shouldered, bearded figure standing in the doorway, eyeing him warily, was the man he'd fucked back in the summer.
"Ah, come in Reitz and close the door," the general said. As the man complied and strode over to stand beside him, Piet ran his eyes over the muscular body, which he remembered so well. He was also pleased to see that, like himself, he wore no underdrawers. He got a fleeting glimpse of the clearly discernable half-hard cock in the tight trousers before he lifted his eyes to meet Reitz's gaze.
He opened his mouth to speak but something in the man's dark blue eyes warned him to silence.
De Wet looked at the two husky men standing before him with their arms behind their backs and their legs apart. Both the same height, dark, bearded and virile, they could have been brothers, he thought as he addressed Reitz,
"Van Reibeeck here fell into the hands of the enemy on his last mission but luckily, for all concerned, he was able to escape before he was made to divulge any information." De Wet paused, and looked each man squarely in the eye, before continuing,
"Although the bravery and loyalty of both of you were never in doubt, your behaviour has, for some time, given me grave misgivings." The scouts exchanged nervous glances and the general went on,
"Your devil-may-care attitude and insistence on riding alone on missions will no longer be tolerated. Is that understood?" Both men nodded.
"In future you will ride together. With your combined skills, you should hopefully, be able to keep each other out of trouble. Piet felt an enormous surge of relief and turned to look at Reitz. His eyes regarded the general gravely but from the way they puckered at the corners, Piet guessed that the neatly trimmed beard hid a small smile.
Tuesday, 17 December 2013
The Scout page 9
page 9
thrust heralded his climax and he held his cock fully buried in Gray's throat as he exploded. The soldier shoved up the convulsing thighs enough for the thick spunk to spew into his mouth, rather than down his throat and, although he swallowed fast, some of the viscous, salty fluid dribbled down his chin. Then Piet was pumping more slowly, discharging the last of his formidable pent-up load and groaning with pleasure.
When the eruption had finally ebbed away, Gray felt Piet's body go limp though it still quivered from the shock of his orgasm. He licked the last of the spunk from the softening cock and, as he swallowed it, Piet pushed away and said breathlessly, "Shit that we wonderful." Then looking at Gray's straining cock, he added, "But you look harder than ever. Do you want me to take care of it, er like that? I haven't done it since I was a youngster."
"No, I've something better in mind," Gray paused, then added, his bruised throat making his voice hoarse, "Ever had it up that beautiful arse of yours Dutchman?" Piet sat up, his face flushed with excitement and looked at Gray's huge drooling cock. He licked his lips then said with a grin, "Last night and I think I'm about to again."
"My Christ, you bet you are. Over on your belly," Gray said, his voice suddenly sounding aggressive. Piet complied and felt his buttocks roughly pulled apart, and to his surprise, a moment later, Gray's tongue in his crack. This new sensation was exquisite and he was soon moaning, squirming and, spreading his thighs as his small puckerhole was sucked and probed by the soldier's tongue. Gray sat back and pushed a finger into the tight moist sphincter. Piet winced but Gray felt the muscle relaxing and slid in a second finger. He gently worked the hole open and suddenly Piet shouted, "Don't," and pulled away. "But if I don't open you up its going to hurt like hell."
"That's how I want it."
"Are you sure, Dutchman, I'm big, there's over ten inches there?"
"That's nothing special, I'm bigger than that. Let's get on with it, if you're man enough."
"Very well then, over on your back."
The aggressive tone was back in Gray's voice and as Piet rolled onto his back, he saw the anger in the soldier's eyes. As his ankles were grasped and lifted onto Gray's beefy shoulders, he hoped he'd riled the soldier enough to get what he wanted.
Piet felt the big glans pressing against him for a moment before Gray shoved forward hard. He gave a gasp of pain as his willing but very tight ring of muscle was forced open and the huge cock slid into him. Gray's was no idle boast and he groaned as the big thick shaft bored slowly, inch by inch up into his guts. As he looked up at the flushed face and luste glazed eyes, Gray bared his teeth and snarled, "That man enough for you Dutchman?"
Pete's rape had not prepared him for the tremendous excitement he felt at being impaled on the handsome virile man's huge ram and he was speechless. But he managed a passable sneer, and Gray hissed,
"All right the, let's see how you like this,"
and withdrew almost to the tip of his glans. Then he slammed his cock back in up to the hilt savagely and Piet gave an explosive before saying gruffly,
"Not bad, I suppose, but can you fuck you khaki bastard, or are you just a bag of wind?"
Although he knew he was being goaded, Piet's words fanned Gray's anger and he began to fuck
furiously
Piet moaned and rolled his head from side to side, as the big cock was driven piston-like into him and he felt the soldier's balls slapping rhythmically against his arse. The exquisite sensation caused by the battering of his prostate, the sharp stabs of pain and the soldier's masculine brutality overwhelmed him. His eyes rolled back and he grunted like an animal as he was pounded nearly senseless. He had no idea how long he had been savagely fucked, before he felt his orgasm boiling up from his balls. He tried desperetely to hold back the explosion but Gray, sensing it, fucked even harder. This triggered Piet's searing gut-wrenching eruption. He fired as he had never fired before, great gobs splattering his chest and face. Piet tasted for the first time his own salty spunk and heard the soldier yell as he exploded into his guts. With a loud grunt, Gray, yanked his cock out and shoving Piet's ankles off his shoulders, continued to fire his spunk over his chest and face. Then as the spasms slowed and the flow ebbed, Gray lowered himself onto Piet's spunk-splashed body. The huge cock pressed against Piet's belly and he could feel it still throbbing as it pumped out the last of Gray's semen. He wrapped his muscular arms around Gray's body and they lay still, naked and plastered together with spunk, as their racing hearts and breathing steadied.
Piet dozed for a few minutes and was woken as he felt Gray begin to stir. He unlocked his arms and the soldier, lifting himself gently off him, began wiping away the drying spunk with a strip of his khaki shirt. Raising himself onto his elbows, Piet studied the muscular naked body and particularly the big turgid cock. Gray saw the direction of his gaze and said, with a grin, Stop ogling me like a dirty old man and clean yourself up, you've spunk all over you." Piet sat up and Gray tossed him the last remaining scrap of his spare shirt. Piet wiped the viscid stuff from his face and beginning to clean his body said, "What happens now Khaki, I suppose I'm your prisoner.?"
"No I don't think so. The corporal said to go after you, not to capture you."
"The corporal, I thought he was dead."
"No, he's got a nasty chest would, but I think he'll live."
"Good I..er like the corporal," Piet stammered. Gray grinned and said, "Lusted after him, more likely."
Then seeing the colour flare in Piet's face, he added, "Dont worry I have too."
"Do you think he is..er would....?"
"Fuck another man?" Gray finished for him. "Yes I've heard rumours."
Piet remembered the big cock tenting the khaki breeches and heard again the deep voice say,
"Another place and time, eh lad." Feeling himself hardening again, Piet said,
"You could perhaps let your feelings show a little."
"Easier said than done, Gray said as he hauled himself to his feet and picked up his shirt.
The men dressed in silence and Piet checked his horse and saddle-bags His papers, of course, were gone but his rifle and the rest of his gear were there. He turned as Gray said, "Well I'd better get after
the corporal and that little arselicker Fowler. The wound should be slowing them down and I should be able to catch up with them easily."
"I'd better bo on my way to Middleburg. Thanks for saving my life back there...and"
"And what?"
"Thanks for giving me the best fuck of my life." Gray chuckled and said,
"I don't think you've had enough fucks yet to judge. I'd guess that, with that beautiful arse yours , you'll have plenty more just as memorable." Piet blushed again and Gray said,
"Come here Dutchman." They hugged each other fiercely and Gray whispered,
"Here's something else to remember me by," and he clamped his over Piet's half open lips. Their tongues met and they kissed passionately, grinding their groins together. When they finally broke apart, both men were breathing heavily and sporting full erections. Resisting the desire to crush the
soldier in his arms again, Piet quickly mounted and watched Gray climb into his saddle. He smiled at Piet and without another word, pulled his horse around and kicked him into a brisk canter. Piet watched the broad-shouldered khaki figure until he was out of sight, then turned his own horse towards Middleburg.
thrust heralded his climax and he held his cock fully buried in Gray's throat as he exploded. The soldier shoved up the convulsing thighs enough for the thick spunk to spew into his mouth, rather than down his throat and, although he swallowed fast, some of the viscous, salty fluid dribbled down his chin. Then Piet was pumping more slowly, discharging the last of his formidable pent-up load and groaning with pleasure.
When the eruption had finally ebbed away, Gray felt Piet's body go limp though it still quivered from the shock of his orgasm. He licked the last of the spunk from the softening cock and, as he swallowed it, Piet pushed away and said breathlessly, "Shit that we wonderful." Then looking at Gray's straining cock, he added, "But you look harder than ever. Do you want me to take care of it, er like that? I haven't done it since I was a youngster."
"No, I've something better in mind," Gray paused, then added, his bruised throat making his voice hoarse, "Ever had it up that beautiful arse of yours Dutchman?" Piet sat up, his face flushed with excitement and looked at Gray's huge drooling cock. He licked his lips then said with a grin, "Last night and I think I'm about to again."
"My Christ, you bet you are. Over on your belly," Gray said, his voice suddenly sounding aggressive. Piet complied and felt his buttocks roughly pulled apart, and to his surprise, a moment later, Gray's tongue in his crack. This new sensation was exquisite and he was soon moaning, squirming and, spreading his thighs as his small puckerhole was sucked and probed by the soldier's tongue. Gray sat back and pushed a finger into the tight moist sphincter. Piet winced but Gray felt the muscle relaxing and slid in a second finger. He gently worked the hole open and suddenly Piet shouted, "Don't," and pulled away. "But if I don't open you up its going to hurt like hell."
"That's how I want it."
"Are you sure, Dutchman, I'm big, there's over ten inches there?"
"That's nothing special, I'm bigger than that. Let's get on with it, if you're man enough."
"Very well then, over on your back."
The aggressive tone was back in Gray's voice and as Piet rolled onto his back, he saw the anger in the soldier's eyes. As his ankles were grasped and lifted onto Gray's beefy shoulders, he hoped he'd riled the soldier enough to get what he wanted.
Piet felt the big glans pressing against him for a moment before Gray shoved forward hard. He gave a gasp of pain as his willing but very tight ring of muscle was forced open and the huge cock slid into him. Gray's was no idle boast and he groaned as the big thick shaft bored slowly, inch by inch up into his guts. As he looked up at the flushed face and luste glazed eyes, Gray bared his teeth and snarled, "That man enough for you Dutchman?"
Pete's rape had not prepared him for the tremendous excitement he felt at being impaled on the handsome virile man's huge ram and he was speechless. But he managed a passable sneer, and Gray hissed,
"All right the, let's see how you like this,"
and withdrew almost to the tip of his glans. Then he slammed his cock back in up to the hilt savagely and Piet gave an explosive before saying gruffly,
"Not bad, I suppose, but can you fuck you khaki bastard, or are you just a bag of wind?"
Although he knew he was being goaded, Piet's words fanned Gray's anger and he began to fuck
furiously
Piet moaned and rolled his head from side to side, as the big cock was driven piston-like into him and he felt the soldier's balls slapping rhythmically against his arse. The exquisite sensation caused by the battering of his prostate, the sharp stabs of pain and the soldier's masculine brutality overwhelmed him. His eyes rolled back and he grunted like an animal as he was pounded nearly senseless. He had no idea how long he had been savagely fucked, before he felt his orgasm boiling up from his balls. He tried desperetely to hold back the explosion but Gray, sensing it, fucked even harder. This triggered Piet's searing gut-wrenching eruption. He fired as he had never fired before, great gobs splattering his chest and face. Piet tasted for the first time his own salty spunk and heard the soldier yell as he exploded into his guts. With a loud grunt, Gray, yanked his cock out and shoving Piet's ankles off his shoulders, continued to fire his spunk over his chest and face. Then as the spasms slowed and the flow ebbed, Gray lowered himself onto Piet's spunk-splashed body. The huge cock pressed against Piet's belly and he could feel it still throbbing as it pumped out the last of Gray's semen. He wrapped his muscular arms around Gray's body and they lay still, naked and plastered together with spunk, as their racing hearts and breathing steadied.
Piet dozed for a few minutes and was woken as he felt Gray begin to stir. He unlocked his arms and the soldier, lifting himself gently off him, began wiping away the drying spunk with a strip of his khaki shirt. Raising himself onto his elbows, Piet studied the muscular naked body and particularly the big turgid cock. Gray saw the direction of his gaze and said, with a grin, Stop ogling me like a dirty old man and clean yourself up, you've spunk all over you." Piet sat up and Gray tossed him the last remaining scrap of his spare shirt. Piet wiped the viscid stuff from his face and beginning to clean his body said, "What happens now Khaki, I suppose I'm your prisoner.?"
"No I don't think so. The corporal said to go after you, not to capture you."
"The corporal, I thought he was dead."
"No, he's got a nasty chest would, but I think he'll live."
"Good I..er like the corporal," Piet stammered. Gray grinned and said, "Lusted after him, more likely."
Then seeing the colour flare in Piet's face, he added, "Dont worry I have too."
"Do you think he is..er would....?"
"Fuck another man?" Gray finished for him. "Yes I've heard rumours."
Piet remembered the big cock tenting the khaki breeches and heard again the deep voice say,
"Another place and time, eh lad." Feeling himself hardening again, Piet said,
"You could perhaps let your feelings show a little."
"Easier said than done, Gray said as he hauled himself to his feet and picked up his shirt.
The men dressed in silence and Piet checked his horse and saddle-bags His papers, of course, were gone but his rifle and the rest of his gear were there. He turned as Gray said, "Well I'd better get after
the corporal and that little arselicker Fowler. The wound should be slowing them down and I should be able to catch up with them easily."
"I'd better bo on my way to Middleburg. Thanks for saving my life back there...and"
"And what?"
"Thanks for giving me the best fuck of my life." Gray chuckled and said,
"I don't think you've had enough fucks yet to judge. I'd guess that, with that beautiful arse yours , you'll have plenty more just as memorable." Piet blushed again and Gray said,
"Come here Dutchman." They hugged each other fiercely and Gray whispered,
"Here's something else to remember me by," and he clamped his over Piet's half open lips. Their tongues met and they kissed passionately, grinding their groins together. When they finally broke apart, both men were breathing heavily and sporting full erections. Resisting the desire to crush the
soldier in his arms again, Piet quickly mounted and watched Gray climb into his saddle. He smiled at Piet and without another word, pulled his horse around and kicked him into a brisk canter. Piet watched the broad-shouldered khaki figure until he was out of sight, then turned his own horse towards Middleburg.
Sunday, 15 December 2013
The Scout Page 8
page 8
his head about and yelled at the vulture which withdrew a short distance. It stood and stared at him with it's expressionless yellow eyes for a few moments before it came forwaerd again. This time it did not retreat when Piet yelled but merely halted in it's tracks. It had decided that Piet's feeble movements were in fact his death throes and that he posed no danger. But even so, the vulture's natural caution held it back until two more birds arrived Then spurred on by greed it hopped forward and jabbed at Piet's thigh. Other birds moved in and Piet tried to scream but he was paralysed with terror.
Chapter 10
Gray went down on one knee and scanned the grass and broken rock carefully. This was the fifth time that he had dismounted and searched in vain for the trail. His fear for the bearded scout had driven him on long beyond the point when he should have admitted to himself that the trail had gone cold. Again there was nothing and he felt tears of despair prick his eyes as he now accepted that the trail was irretrievably lost. He rose to his feet and, as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, heard, very faintly, the whinny of horses. Turning his head, trying to locate the direction of the sound, he saw the circling birds. He scrambled back into the saddle and cantered across the veldt. As he drew nearer, he saw that they were vultures and fear began to squirm in his guts. He threaded his way as quickly as he could through the dense patches of thorny scrub, then rein-in and stared in horror.
There were three groups of feeding birds, Gray noted, as he reached for his rifle. Reisting the temptation to aim into the repulsive things, he fired and they rose clumsily into the air.The scout was spread out naked and Gray whispered, "Oh Please God no," as he saw that his thighs were splashed with blood. The smell of blood and gore was making his horse very nervous and glancing around, he saw that the other animals had been tethered some distance away in a clump of trees. He rode his horse over to join them and spent a moment calming the frightened beast, before tethering him. Then, as he hurried back towards the scout, he paused to look at the bloody remains of Sarel and was violently sick. Wiping his streaming eyes and the gore from his mouth and moustache he turned back to look at the scout and felt his spirits lift as he saw the big hairy balls hanging between the wide spread bloody thighs.
Piet lay very still, his eyes closed and Gray pressed his fingers to the side of his neck. The pulse was strong and steady and as he transferred his hand to gently lift Piet's head, the eyes opened and he muttered something in Afrikaans. "My God Dutchman, you gave me a fright, I thought I was too late," Gray said and the scout's dark eyes gazed up at him and a faint smile hovered under his moustache. Gray grinned back in an attempt to hide his growing excitement and busied himself untying Piet's arms. But when he knelt to free the scout's wide spread thighs, he could not resist staring at the man's beautiful, thick, cut cock laying across his hairy belly, with an expression reminiscent of a dog looking at a bone.
Sitting up with a groan, Piet massaged his sore wrists and Gray noticed that he was trembling violently. Realising that the scout was in a state of shock, Gray tried to put his lustful thoughts aside and said, "We've got to get out of this charnel-house. Can you stand?" Piet stretched his stiff limbs and, as he struggled to his feet, Gray bent forward with the intention of helping him but finished up clasping the naked trembling man tightly in his arms. As they clung to each other, Gray ran a hand down the scout's broad back, revelling in the feel of the hard muscles rippling under the smooth skin. Over Piet's shoulder he saw that the vultures were returning to their interrupted feast and said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper, "We'll get you cleaned up and dressed later, can you make it to the horses?" Gray felt Piet nod against his shoulder and half-carried him towards the tethered animals. Piet was recovering fast and didn't need any assistance but he said nothing, enjoying the feel of the big soldier's hands on his naked body. He let Gray lift him effortlessly into the saddle and they rode slowly away from the blood and gore.
Chapter 11
When they were well out of sight of the circling vultures, Gray halted and gently helped Peit from his horse. He sat the scout down and rummaged in his saddle bags for iodine and his spare khaki shirt, which he tore into strips. Ordering Piet to lay back, he began cleaning the wounds on his thighs made by the vultures' filthy beaks. As he worked, Gray tried to keep his eyes averted from Piet's cock, which had, despite the stinging pain of his wonds, pounded to full erection. Gray bound the deeper cuts and then sat back on his haunches between Piet's thighs and gazed down at the man's awesome endowment. The balls hung big and heavy in their sac and the thick rigid cock jutted out at a slight angle from the hairy belly. Piet raised his head and looked up as the big soldier rose, stripped off his shirt and bent to tug off his riding boots. Gray peeled off his breeches, flung them aside and stood, legs wide apart and knuckles on hips, looking down at the scout. His thick uncut cock thrust out and the fully exposed glans, like a big pink plumb, gleamed with pre-cum. Piet sucked in air noisily between parted lips and felt lust twist like as knife in his guts. Seeing the scout's reaction, Gray grinned broadly and dropped again to his haunches between Piet's thighs.
Gray, leaned forward and licked Piet's balls, inhaling the pungent scent of sweat and maleness, then sucked them in and rolled them on his tongue. He let them drop, slippery with spit, from his mouth and licked his way up the thick veined shaft. He heard Piet whimper as he tongued around the flange of his glans, relishing the exquisite taste and the strong male odour. "Please khaki, for God's sake," Piet whispered and Gray smiled inwardly. He continued licking around the delicious glans until Piet began to squirm before he finally took the big helmet into his mouth. Piet locked his strong fingers behind Gray's head and jammed it down hard until he felt his cock meet the soldier's throat. He gave a snarl and roughly shoved the cropped head even further down, feeling the throat close around his glans and Gray's bushy moustache brush his balls. He felt Gray gagging but he held him down, relishing the moment, "Take it you fucking khaki scum," then began to pump furiously, until the soldier's big muscular arms wrapped around his thighs. He was rolled up until Gray was beneath him and he resumed his ruthless assault on the soldier's throat, now fucking harder and deeper. A mighty
his head about and yelled at the vulture which withdrew a short distance. It stood and stared at him with it's expressionless yellow eyes for a few moments before it came forwaerd again. This time it did not retreat when Piet yelled but merely halted in it's tracks. It had decided that Piet's feeble movements were in fact his death throes and that he posed no danger. But even so, the vulture's natural caution held it back until two more birds arrived Then spurred on by greed it hopped forward and jabbed at Piet's thigh. Other birds moved in and Piet tried to scream but he was paralysed with terror.
Chapter 10
Gray went down on one knee and scanned the grass and broken rock carefully. This was the fifth time that he had dismounted and searched in vain for the trail. His fear for the bearded scout had driven him on long beyond the point when he should have admitted to himself that the trail had gone cold. Again there was nothing and he felt tears of despair prick his eyes as he now accepted that the trail was irretrievably lost. He rose to his feet and, as he wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, heard, very faintly, the whinny of horses. Turning his head, trying to locate the direction of the sound, he saw the circling birds. He scrambled back into the saddle and cantered across the veldt. As he drew nearer, he saw that they were vultures and fear began to squirm in his guts. He threaded his way as quickly as he could through the dense patches of thorny scrub, then rein-in and stared in horror.
There were three groups of feeding birds, Gray noted, as he reached for his rifle. Reisting the temptation to aim into the repulsive things, he fired and they rose clumsily into the air.The scout was spread out naked and Gray whispered, "Oh Please God no," as he saw that his thighs were splashed with blood. The smell of blood and gore was making his horse very nervous and glancing around, he saw that the other animals had been tethered some distance away in a clump of trees. He rode his horse over to join them and spent a moment calming the frightened beast, before tethering him. Then, as he hurried back towards the scout, he paused to look at the bloody remains of Sarel and was violently sick. Wiping his streaming eyes and the gore from his mouth and moustache he turned back to look at the scout and felt his spirits lift as he saw the big hairy balls hanging between the wide spread bloody thighs.
Piet lay very still, his eyes closed and Gray pressed his fingers to the side of his neck. The pulse was strong and steady and as he transferred his hand to gently lift Piet's head, the eyes opened and he muttered something in Afrikaans. "My God Dutchman, you gave me a fright, I thought I was too late," Gray said and the scout's dark eyes gazed up at him and a faint smile hovered under his moustache. Gray grinned back in an attempt to hide his growing excitement and busied himself untying Piet's arms. But when he knelt to free the scout's wide spread thighs, he could not resist staring at the man's beautiful, thick, cut cock laying across his hairy belly, with an expression reminiscent of a dog looking at a bone.
Sitting up with a groan, Piet massaged his sore wrists and Gray noticed that he was trembling violently. Realising that the scout was in a state of shock, Gray tried to put his lustful thoughts aside and said, "We've got to get out of this charnel-house. Can you stand?" Piet stretched his stiff limbs and, as he struggled to his feet, Gray bent forward with the intention of helping him but finished up clasping the naked trembling man tightly in his arms. As they clung to each other, Gray ran a hand down the scout's broad back, revelling in the feel of the hard muscles rippling under the smooth skin. Over Piet's shoulder he saw that the vultures were returning to their interrupted feast and said, his voice little more than a hoarse whisper, "We'll get you cleaned up and dressed later, can you make it to the horses?" Gray felt Piet nod against his shoulder and half-carried him towards the tethered animals. Piet was recovering fast and didn't need any assistance but he said nothing, enjoying the feel of the big soldier's hands on his naked body. He let Gray lift him effortlessly into the saddle and they rode slowly away from the blood and gore.
Chapter 11
When they were well out of sight of the circling vultures, Gray halted and gently helped Peit from his horse. He sat the scout down and rummaged in his saddle bags for iodine and his spare khaki shirt, which he tore into strips. Ordering Piet to lay back, he began cleaning the wounds on his thighs made by the vultures' filthy beaks. As he worked, Gray tried to keep his eyes averted from Piet's cock, which had, despite the stinging pain of his wonds, pounded to full erection. Gray bound the deeper cuts and then sat back on his haunches between Piet's thighs and gazed down at the man's awesome endowment. The balls hung big and heavy in their sac and the thick rigid cock jutted out at a slight angle from the hairy belly. Piet raised his head and looked up as the big soldier rose, stripped off his shirt and bent to tug off his riding boots. Gray peeled off his breeches, flung them aside and stood, legs wide apart and knuckles on hips, looking down at the scout. His thick uncut cock thrust out and the fully exposed glans, like a big pink plumb, gleamed with pre-cum. Piet sucked in air noisily between parted lips and felt lust twist like as knife in his guts. Seeing the scout's reaction, Gray grinned broadly and dropped again to his haunches between Piet's thighs.
Gray, leaned forward and licked Piet's balls, inhaling the pungent scent of sweat and maleness, then sucked them in and rolled them on his tongue. He let them drop, slippery with spit, from his mouth and licked his way up the thick veined shaft. He heard Piet whimper as he tongued around the flange of his glans, relishing the exquisite taste and the strong male odour. "Please khaki, for God's sake," Piet whispered and Gray smiled inwardly. He continued licking around the delicious glans until Piet began to squirm before he finally took the big helmet into his mouth. Piet locked his strong fingers behind Gray's head and jammed it down hard until he felt his cock meet the soldier's throat. He gave a snarl and roughly shoved the cropped head even further down, feeling the throat close around his glans and Gray's bushy moustache brush his balls. He felt Gray gagging but he held him down, relishing the moment, "Take it you fucking khaki scum," then began to pump furiously, until the soldier's big muscular arms wrapped around his thighs. He was rolled up until Gray was beneath him and he resumed his ruthless assault on the soldier's throat, now fucking harder and deeper. A mighty
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didn't budge and Gray swore as he realised that it opened inwards. They would have to pick the lock he thought, as he rubbed his sore shoulder. Dropping to his knees and peering into the large old- fashioned lock, Gray reached back to get his clasp-knife from the arse pocket of his breeches. The blade was too wide and he called to Fowler, "You've got a pen-knife haven't you?" The younger trooper handed it to him and he inserted the narrower blade into the lock. "Do you know what you're doing Gray?"
"Keep quiet," Gray replied, and a second later they heard the big key fall onto the stone floor. "Now let's have you my beauty," Gray murmered as he began to dig around in the lock. Suddenly he heard a faint sound on the other side of the door and froze. A moment later the key was slipped back into the lock and Gray leapt to his feet. The key turned with a loud click and both troopers stepped back, bodies tensed, as the door swung open.
The corporal stood swaying in the doorway. His rugged face looked gray under his tan and blood oozed between the fingers of the hand he held over his wound. Fowler pushed past Gray and putting his arms around the corporal, half carried him across the kitchen and lowered him gently onto a chair by the table. "I'll get something to clean that wound corp, shan't be a minute," Fowler said and hurried from the kitchen. The dark blue eyes looked up at Gray and the corporal said, "At least I wasn't wearing my shirt. That bullet would have really fucked it up," he said, managing a weak smile.
"How bad is it corporal?"
"Missed my heart and lungs I think, but it hurts like fucking hell."
Fowler returned, ripping a clean sheet to pieces and the corporal said, "I want you to go after him, Gray. I heard what the dutch bastard said I don't want that to happen to that young scout. He deserves
better." Fowler brought cloth and a bowl of tepid water and knelt to tend to the corporal's wound.
"Get moving Gray, Fowler here can patch me up and get me back to camp."
"Yes corporal," Gray replied and donning his damp shirt and retrieving his rifle, he hurried to the paddock. He quickly checked his horse and hauled himself into the saddle. He moved off and soon found the trail of the two horses in the grass. He hurried after them, knowing that the trail would quickly disappear. Indeed it grew gradually fainter and when he reached an area of broken rock and and shrub it disappeared all together. Fighting down his rising fear for the scout, he climbed down and slowly and carefully cast around. Then he saw the clean new scratch on the rock and ahead the leaf freshly broken from a low growing bush.
Sarel at last slowed down and Piet was able to loosen the grip of his knees around the horse's sides. His wrists had been tied to the pommel of his saddle, giving him little control over his galloping mount. They now moved on slowly until they reached an area of flat grass, surrounded by thorny waist-high scrub. Sarel reined-in and dismounted. "This will do fine. When I've finished with you, the scavengers will be able to feed here undisturbed." He released Piet's bound wrists from the pommel and, reaching up, yanked the scout from the saddle. Piet fell to the ground and the toe of Sarel's boot thudded into his balls. He doubled up and Sarel rolled him onto his back. His boots and belt were tugged off. Sarel then ripped down Piet's trousers and tore them free before straightening up and looking down at his naked prisoner, a sneer twisting his thin lips. Naked, Piet sat up and dropped his bound hands to protect his bruised balls. Without warning, Sarel aimed a savage kick at Piet's head. The heavy boot caught Piet under the chin, flinging him back and down into blackness.
A stabbing pain in his wrists, drew Piet back to consciousness. He was spreadeagled and staked out on the coarse grass his legs spread wide apart. Sarel knelt to straddle him and fear wormed in Piet's belly as he looked up at the farmer's sneering face. "Now you murdering bastard, let's give you a bit more of what the fucking khakis gave you," Sarel snarled and punched Piet in the mouth. Blood spurted again from Piet's split lips and soaked into his beard.
Chapter 8
The scent of humans was very strong in her nostrils and fear welled up in her again. But this time she detected the smell of fresh blood and the lust to kill and feed became irrestistible. She moved forward, her belly low to the ground.
Chapter 9
Sarel look down at Piet's battered face. Blood flowed from his nose and mouth and oozed from the
grazes left by Sarel's split knuckles. Tears welled up from Piet's closed eyes and trickled down his bloody cheeks. "Wake up," Sarel snarled, I want you awake when I fix you." Piet groaned and, opening his eyes, saw Sarel reach back for his knife. His blood turned to ice as his balls were roughly grasped and his scrotum stretched. Then he screamed in terror as he felt the cold blade against his skin.
The leopard bounded forward and leapt. Although she struck Sarel with enough force to fling him, bouncing and rolling away from Piet, her wound made her clumsy and she failed to grasp her prey. Hissing with fury, she cartwheeled over Sarel and landed on her back. Sarel was quickly on his feet and he turned knife extended to meet the cat's charge. His blade sank into the side of the animal's neck. He lunged again, missed and was borne backwards. He managed to keep his footing for a moment before the leopard's claws raked his ribs and he fell with a scream, the big cat on top of him.
Raising his head, Piet watched the leopard rip and slash her victim before the two locked bodies rolled away out of his field of vision. He listened in horror to the sounds of the struggle, the harsh rasping hisses of the leopard and Sarel's shrill screams. Then suddenly it stopped and there was an awful deathly silence. Was the leopard feeding, Piet thought, and would it come for him? He listened intently, his fear mounting by the second. Then he heard something move. Straining against the ropes binding him, he craned his neck and saw Sarel standing, still clutching the bloody knife. His body looked like newly butchered meat and what skin could be seen, hung in tattered ribbons. His light blue eyes, blazing with hatred, stared at him from a face that was a mask of blood. He took one faltering step towards Piet and stopped, swaying, before lurching forward again. Then the dreadful eyes rolled up into his head and Sarel pitched forward onto his face. Piet felt relief flood through him and he lowered his head to the ground. Nothing moved and there was utter silence.
Realising that both the leopard and Sarel were dead, Piet now had to face the awful prospect of either,
slowly dying of thirst, or of being torn to pieces by scavengers. Although his naked body was bathed in warm sunshine, he felt his blood run cold as he heard the arrival of the first vulture. The ugly bird immediately attacked the body of the leopard and was quickly joined by more. Another pair arrived and as they began to tear at Sarel's bloody body Piet felt his gorge rise. Then the moment that Piet has been dreading arrived. A large vulture settled beside him and waddled forward cautiously. Piet tossed
I
didn't budge and Gray swore as he realised that it opened inwards. They would have to pick the lock he thought, as he rubbed his sore shoulder. Dropping to his knees and peering into the large old- fashioned lock, Gray reached back to get his clasp-knife from the arse pocket of his breeches. The blade was too wide and he called to Fowler, "You've got a pen-knife haven't you?" The younger trooper handed it to him and he inserted the narrower blade into the lock. "Do you know what you're doing Gray?"
"Keep quiet," Gray replied, and a second later they heard the big key fall onto the stone floor. "Now let's have you my beauty," Gray murmered as he began to dig around in the lock. Suddenly he heard a faint sound on the other side of the door and froze. A moment later the key was slipped back into the lock and Gray leapt to his feet. The key turned with a loud click and both troopers stepped back, bodies tensed, as the door swung open.
The corporal stood swaying in the doorway. His rugged face looked gray under his tan and blood oozed between the fingers of the hand he held over his wound. Fowler pushed past Gray and putting his arms around the corporal, half carried him across the kitchen and lowered him gently onto a chair by the table. "I'll get something to clean that wound corp, shan't be a minute," Fowler said and hurried from the kitchen. The dark blue eyes looked up at Gray and the corporal said, "At least I wasn't wearing my shirt. That bullet would have really fucked it up," he said, managing a weak smile.
"How bad is it corporal?"
"Missed my heart and lungs I think, but it hurts like fucking hell."
Fowler returned, ripping a clean sheet to pieces and the corporal said, "I want you to go after him, Gray. I heard what the dutch bastard said I don't want that to happen to that young scout. He deserves
better." Fowler brought cloth and a bowl of tepid water and knelt to tend to the corporal's wound.
"Get moving Gray, Fowler here can patch me up and get me back to camp."
"Yes corporal," Gray replied and donning his damp shirt and retrieving his rifle, he hurried to the paddock. He quickly checked his horse and hauled himself into the saddle. He moved off and soon found the trail of the two horses in the grass. He hurried after them, knowing that the trail would quickly disappear. Indeed it grew gradually fainter and when he reached an area of broken rock and and shrub it disappeared all together. Fighting down his rising fear for the scout, he climbed down and slowly and carefully cast around. Then he saw the clean new scratch on the rock and ahead the leaf freshly broken from a low growing bush.
Sarel at last slowed down and Piet was able to loosen the grip of his knees around the horse's sides. His wrists had been tied to the pommel of his saddle, giving him little control over his galloping mount. They now moved on slowly until they reached an area of flat grass, surrounded by thorny waist-high scrub. Sarel reined-in and dismounted. "This will do fine. When I've finished with you, the scavengers will be able to feed here undisturbed." He released Piet's bound wrists from the pommel and, reaching up, yanked the scout from the saddle. Piet fell to the ground and the toe of Sarel's boot thudded into his balls. He doubled up and Sarel rolled him onto his back. His boots and belt were tugged off. Sarel then ripped down Piet's trousers and tore them free before straightening up and looking down at his naked prisoner, a sneer twisting his thin lips. Naked, Piet sat up and dropped his bound hands to protect his bruised balls. Without warning, Sarel aimed a savage kick at Piet's head. The heavy boot caught Piet under the chin, flinging him back and down into blackness.
A stabbing pain in his wrists, drew Piet back to consciousness. He was spreadeagled and staked out on the coarse grass his legs spread wide apart. Sarel knelt to straddle him and fear wormed in Piet's belly as he looked up at the farmer's sneering face. "Now you murdering bastard, let's give you a bit more of what the fucking khakis gave you," Sarel snarled and punched Piet in the mouth. Blood spurted again from Piet's split lips and soaked into his beard.
Chapter 8
The scent of humans was very strong in her nostrils and fear welled up in her again. But this time she detected the smell of fresh blood and the lust to kill and feed became irrestistible. She moved forward, her belly low to the ground.
Chapter 9
Sarel look down at Piet's battered face. Blood flowed from his nose and mouth and oozed from the
grazes left by Sarel's split knuckles. Tears welled up from Piet's closed eyes and trickled down his bloody cheeks. "Wake up," Sarel snarled, I want you awake when I fix you." Piet groaned and, opening his eyes, saw Sarel reach back for his knife. His blood turned to ice as his balls were roughly grasped and his scrotum stretched. Then he screamed in terror as he felt the cold blade against his skin.
The leopard bounded forward and leapt. Although she struck Sarel with enough force to fling him, bouncing and rolling away from Piet, her wound made her clumsy and she failed to grasp her prey. Hissing with fury, she cartwheeled over Sarel and landed on her back. Sarel was quickly on his feet and he turned knife extended to meet the cat's charge. His blade sank into the side of the animal's neck. He lunged again, missed and was borne backwards. He managed to keep his footing for a moment before the leopard's claws raked his ribs and he fell with a scream, the big cat on top of him.
Raising his head, Piet watched the leopard rip and slash her victim before the two locked bodies rolled away out of his field of vision. He listened in horror to the sounds of the struggle, the harsh rasping hisses of the leopard and Sarel's shrill screams. Then suddenly it stopped and there was an awful deathly silence. Was the leopard feeding, Piet thought, and would it come for him? He listened intently, his fear mounting by the second. Then he heard something move. Straining against the ropes binding him, he craned his neck and saw Sarel standing, still clutching the bloody knife. His body looked like newly butchered meat and what skin could be seen, hung in tattered ribbons. His light blue eyes, blazing with hatred, stared at him from a face that was a mask of blood. He took one faltering step towards Piet and stopped, swaying, before lurching forward again. Then the dreadful eyes rolled up into his head and Sarel pitched forward onto his face. Piet felt relief flood through him and he lowered his head to the ground. Nothing moved and there was utter silence.
Realising that both the leopard and Sarel were dead, Piet now had to face the awful prospect of either,
slowly dying of thirst, or of being torn to pieces by scavengers. Although his naked body was bathed in warm sunshine, he felt his blood run cold as he heard the arrival of the first vulture. The ugly bird immediately attacked the body of the leopard and was quickly joined by more. Another pair arrived and as they began to tear at Sarel's bloody body Piet felt his gorge rise. Then the moment that Piet has been dreading arrived. A large vulture settled beside him and waddled forward cautiously. Piet tossed
I
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and had began to sag against the post before the beating stopped. The corporal dropped the belt and stepped in close to Piet. He lowered his head and ran his nose down the deep channel between the whipped pecs, inhaling the aroma of fresh male sweat. Resisting the temptation to nuzzle further down the hairy belly. he tongued his way instead across Piet's left left pec, savouring the sharp salty taste of the belt-warmed muscle. The corporal heard the scout gasp and felt his body stiffen as he sucked the big erect nipple into his mouth. Piet whimpered as the corporal licked and nipped and his hard cock jabbed the soldier in the groin. Suddenly the corporal bit down hard and Piet gave a yell of pain.
Chapter 5
She heard the faint cry and, lifting her head, sniffed the air. She could smell horses, cattle and humans. A growl rumbled deep in her throat and she felt a flush of rage. But fear lanced through her
like a spear of ice, even though it was many days since the farmer had shot her. Since she had been wounded she had not eaten. Even the smallest prey seemed to evade her easily. Hunger gnawed at her belly and the pain of her shattered shoulder gave her no peace. She seethed with rage but finally it was her fear of humans that outweighed her lust to kill and she turned her back and limped away.
Chapter 6
The corporal released Piet's well-chewed right nipple and the scout groaned as he straightened up and glanced around at his two companions. "Warm him up a bit, while I see what food there is in the pantry." The two soldiers eyed each other for a moment before the younger, Fowler, pulled his shirt out of his breeches and said, "With the greatest pleasure corporal." Watching the trooper shrug off his shirt, the corporal said, "I'd like a full stomach before I get down to the business of making this fucking Dutchman talk."
"That's right corporal," the big trooper Gray said, and added as the corporal turned to face him, "We
wouldn't want to rush things, would we?" His face was flushed and his eyes glittered with excitement.
Looking at his sodden groin, the corporal wondered if that was all pre-cum or if the big soldier had fired a load into his breeches. Fowler took up position in front of Piet and began to backhand and slap him hard. The corporal saw Piet's head rocked from side to side and the first beads of blood drip from his beard onto his chest before he turned and headed for the pantry.
The pantry was well stocked. The corporal gathered up ham, butter and a large loaf of bread and brought them to the kitchen table. He paused a moment to watch the beating before he went back to the pantry to get milk and beer. When he returned the big trooper Gray had taken Fowler's place and was pummelling Piet's body. The corporal put the things on the table and turned to watch, hands on hips. Gray was concentrating on Piet's muscular midriff and hairy lower belly. There was a limit to what the big hard muscles could take and the corporal judged that it had been reached when Gray drove his fist yet again into Piet's lower belly and the scout gave a loud grunt and sagged against the post. Gray struck again and again and Piet's grunts grew louder as he slipped down the post. Finally his wide spread legs gave way and he dropped to his knees.
Gray looked down at the scout. Although he had been beaten to his knees, his upper body, bound as it was to the post, was still upright. Piet lifted his battered bloody face and looked up at the trooper towering over him. He held the man's gaze for a long moment, then lowered his eyes to stare as the sodden bulging groin only an inch from his face. Gray thrust his hips forward and his jutting cock brushed his lips. The smell of the trooper's sweat and spunk assailed Piet's nostrils as he licked the big glans through the spunk-sodden khaki.
The corporal strode forward and put a big hand on Gray's shoulder, "All right lad, that will be enough for now. Let's eat." Gray paused, savouring the feel of Piet's lips on his cock, then he turned away abruptly and strode over to the table. He flung himself down on a chair facing Fowler and noted, with irritation, the look of disdain on the younger trooper's face. The corporal strolled over to join them and Gray watched Fowler's eyes fasten hungrily on his bulging groin. If the corporal sees him looking at him like that, Gray thought, Fowler will, more than likely, get a lot more than he bargained for. But, appearing not to have noticed, the corporal said, "After we have eaten, I want one of you to stand watch."
"But we are miles from anywhere corp, surely that won't be necessary," Fowler said, with his mouth full. "Ah but it will lad. I know the next hour or so will be very er...diverting, but I need someone on watch. You'll have to toss a coin." They continued to eat in silence and when Gray turned to look at the battered half-naked scout, their eyes locked and he felt a hot jolt of excitement in his guts.
Suddenly the door was flung open and a muscular bare-chested man appeared, with a levelled rifle. The corporal made a grab for his gun and the man fired. The bullet smacked into the soldier's chest with enough force to flip him back over the chair. He crashed to the floor and lay, spreadeagled on his back, unmoving. The other two troopers sat stock-still, their mouths gaping with shock as the man moved into the room. "Hands on your heads and stand up slowly," he said in heavily accented English. "Do as I say and you won't be harmed. That is what I came for," he continued, nodding in Piet's direction. "He killed my brother and I have vowed I'd stake him out on the veldt, castrate him, and leave him for the animals to finish off." Gray felt his blood chill and he glanced at Fowler. The young trooper's face was very pale and his eyes were still glazed with shock. "Anyway, what's it got to do with you fucking khakis, get over there and into the pantry, come on move." Walking towards the pantry door, Gray stole a glance at the corporal. He lay deathly still and his huge erection still tented the front of his breeches. Could he be dead and in that state, he thought? A moment later the pantry door was slammed to behind them and they heard the key turn in the lock.
Chapter 7
"Oh God, What has he done to the corporal? Is he dead?" Fowler stammered. "I'm afraid it looks like it," Gray replied and turned to examine the door. "But we won't know until we get out of here." A moment later they heard, through the small barred pantry window, the sound of two horses galloping away. "Now Fowler, let's get out of here," Gray shouted and drove his shoulder against the door. It
and had began to sag against the post before the beating stopped. The corporal dropped the belt and stepped in close to Piet. He lowered his head and ran his nose down the deep channel between the whipped pecs, inhaling the aroma of fresh male sweat. Resisting the temptation to nuzzle further down the hairy belly. he tongued his way instead across Piet's left left pec, savouring the sharp salty taste of the belt-warmed muscle. The corporal heard the scout gasp and felt his body stiffen as he sucked the big erect nipple into his mouth. Piet whimpered as the corporal licked and nipped and his hard cock jabbed the soldier in the groin. Suddenly the corporal bit down hard and Piet gave a yell of pain.
Chapter 5
She heard the faint cry and, lifting her head, sniffed the air. She could smell horses, cattle and humans. A growl rumbled deep in her throat and she felt a flush of rage. But fear lanced through her
like a spear of ice, even though it was many days since the farmer had shot her. Since she had been wounded she had not eaten. Even the smallest prey seemed to evade her easily. Hunger gnawed at her belly and the pain of her shattered shoulder gave her no peace. She seethed with rage but finally it was her fear of humans that outweighed her lust to kill and she turned her back and limped away.
Chapter 6
The corporal released Piet's well-chewed right nipple and the scout groaned as he straightened up and glanced around at his two companions. "Warm him up a bit, while I see what food there is in the pantry." The two soldiers eyed each other for a moment before the younger, Fowler, pulled his shirt out of his breeches and said, "With the greatest pleasure corporal." Watching the trooper shrug off his shirt, the corporal said, "I'd like a full stomach before I get down to the business of making this fucking Dutchman talk."
"That's right corporal," the big trooper Gray said, and added as the corporal turned to face him, "We
wouldn't want to rush things, would we?" His face was flushed and his eyes glittered with excitement.
Looking at his sodden groin, the corporal wondered if that was all pre-cum or if the big soldier had fired a load into his breeches. Fowler took up position in front of Piet and began to backhand and slap him hard. The corporal saw Piet's head rocked from side to side and the first beads of blood drip from his beard onto his chest before he turned and headed for the pantry.
The pantry was well stocked. The corporal gathered up ham, butter and a large loaf of bread and brought them to the kitchen table. He paused a moment to watch the beating before he went back to the pantry to get milk and beer. When he returned the big trooper Gray had taken Fowler's place and was pummelling Piet's body. The corporal put the things on the table and turned to watch, hands on hips. Gray was concentrating on Piet's muscular midriff and hairy lower belly. There was a limit to what the big hard muscles could take and the corporal judged that it had been reached when Gray drove his fist yet again into Piet's lower belly and the scout gave a loud grunt and sagged against the post. Gray struck again and again and Piet's grunts grew louder as he slipped down the post. Finally his wide spread legs gave way and he dropped to his knees.
Gray looked down at the scout. Although he had been beaten to his knees, his upper body, bound as it was to the post, was still upright. Piet lifted his battered bloody face and looked up at the trooper towering over him. He held the man's gaze for a long moment, then lowered his eyes to stare as the sodden bulging groin only an inch from his face. Gray thrust his hips forward and his jutting cock brushed his lips. The smell of the trooper's sweat and spunk assailed Piet's nostrils as he licked the big glans through the spunk-sodden khaki.
The corporal strode forward and put a big hand on Gray's shoulder, "All right lad, that will be enough for now. Let's eat." Gray paused, savouring the feel of Piet's lips on his cock, then he turned away abruptly and strode over to the table. He flung himself down on a chair facing Fowler and noted, with irritation, the look of disdain on the younger trooper's face. The corporal strolled over to join them and Gray watched Fowler's eyes fasten hungrily on his bulging groin. If the corporal sees him looking at him like that, Gray thought, Fowler will, more than likely, get a lot more than he bargained for. But, appearing not to have noticed, the corporal said, "After we have eaten, I want one of you to stand watch."
"But we are miles from anywhere corp, surely that won't be necessary," Fowler said, with his mouth full. "Ah but it will lad. I know the next hour or so will be very er...diverting, but I need someone on watch. You'll have to toss a coin." They continued to eat in silence and when Gray turned to look at the battered half-naked scout, their eyes locked and he felt a hot jolt of excitement in his guts.
Suddenly the door was flung open and a muscular bare-chested man appeared, with a levelled rifle. The corporal made a grab for his gun and the man fired. The bullet smacked into the soldier's chest with enough force to flip him back over the chair. He crashed to the floor and lay, spreadeagled on his back, unmoving. The other two troopers sat stock-still, their mouths gaping with shock as the man moved into the room. "Hands on your heads and stand up slowly," he said in heavily accented English. "Do as I say and you won't be harmed. That is what I came for," he continued, nodding in Piet's direction. "He killed my brother and I have vowed I'd stake him out on the veldt, castrate him, and leave him for the animals to finish off." Gray felt his blood chill and he glanced at Fowler. The young trooper's face was very pale and his eyes were still glazed with shock. "Anyway, what's it got to do with you fucking khakis, get over there and into the pantry, come on move." Walking towards the pantry door, Gray stole a glance at the corporal. He lay deathly still and his huge erection still tented the front of his breeches. Could he be dead and in that state, he thought? A moment later the pantry door was slammed to behind them and they heard the key turn in the lock.
Chapter 7
"Oh God, What has he done to the corporal? Is he dead?" Fowler stammered. "I'm afraid it looks like it," Gray replied and turned to examine the door. "But we won't know until we get out of here." A moment later they heard, through the small barred pantry window, the sound of two horses galloping away. "Now Fowler, let's get out of here," Gray shouted and drove his shoulder against the door. It
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Piet watched with growing concern as the corporal searched the contents of his pouches and felt a shiver of fear when, at last, he pulled out the maps and documents. Without giving them more that a cursory glance, he tossed them onto the table and looked up at Piet. "I don't read Afrikaans but that doesn't matter, they're bogus anyway, aren't they?" Piet said nothing. "You're a scout aren't you?" the corporal snapped. Not trusting himself to speak, Piet shook his head. "Oh come on lad, we are scouts too, we know your're one of DeWet's boys." Piet still said and the corporal continued, "We were passing this farmstead early yesterday evening and the cattle were making a hell of a racket. Gray, here, a country boy, said there was something very wrong and we came to investigate. We found the farmer shot dead on the kitchen floor and the upstairs rooms had been ransacked. While Gray saw to the animals, we buried the old boy in the backyard." He paused and his shrewd dark blue eyes studied Piet's face, before he continued again in his deep voice, "Why did the farmer die, we wondered? Was it plain robbery or was there some double-dealing?" Again the dark eyes bored into Piet's.
We know you scouts use remote farms as places for gathering information along with your victuals."
The corporal's voice held a hint of mence as he said, "It would be wise for you to tell us what inform-
ation you are taking to Middleburg and what you know about this little imbroglio. If not lad, I'm afraid it will go badly for you." Piet was sweating and he could feel his heart pounding. He wet his lips and said, "Fuck you, khaki scum." It was meant to sound tough and defiant, but it came out as little more than a croak. "That's what I expected you to say though not in those precise words," the corporal said as he stroked his stubbled chin and eyed the rough wooden posts that supported the kitchen's massive central rafter. "Will one of those be strong enough for our purposes, Gray?" The big soldier frowned in puzzlement for a moment, then his brow cleared and he strode over and pushed and yanked one of the supports. Piet watched the trooper's rippling muscles and bulging biceps, trying not to think about the damage they could do. "Rock solid corporal," Gray said, grinning broadly. The corporal stood up and Piet saw they were the same height and build. "I don't want to do this lad, why not cooperate." Piet spat in his face.
Calmly the corporal wiped away the saliva running down his cheeks and dripping from his moustache, with the back of his hand, but when his gaze met Piet's, the dark blue eyes were blazing.
He brought his knee up hard into Piet's balls. Piet yelled and, as the pain lanced up into his guts, dropped top his knees. "Well he's asked for it lads, let's rig im," the corporal snarled. Piet was hauled up and pushed back against one of the posts. Gray slung a length of rope around his neck and tugged his head back against the rough wood. "Keep still, or I'll choke you Dutchman," Gray hissed in his ear as the corporal stepped forward and began to bind Piet to the post. The rope was passed around the back of Piet's neck, under his armpits and knotted between his shoulder-blades. Brought back over his shoulders, the rope was then knotted over his breastbone. It was pulled down between his pecs, where it was knotted yet again and the ends tugged back and tied tightly behind him. The corporal stood back to admire his work. The rough rope divided Piet's pecs and bit up under them, emphasising and lifting the big firm muscles. Satisfied, he then roped Piet's upper body firmly to the post and said, "All right Gray, you can let go now, he's rigged." The rope was removed from his throat and Piet tugged and twisted his bonds. Although he would be able to move up and down, he could not bend forward as his torso was held rigidly against the post.
Chapter 4
The corporal pulled the khaki shirt out of his breeches, shrugged it off, and strutted over to hung it neatly over the back of a kitchen chair. Then he turned and, fists on hips, surveyed the half-naked prisoner. He saw the the boer had the broad shoulders and hard muscles of a man who works out of doors. The roped pectoral muscles were magnificent and almost hairless though hair spread thickly over the hard-ridged belly and disappeared invitingly under the wide buckled belt. Lowering his eyes further, the corporal noted the huge bulge between the man's widespread legs and felt himself hardening as he strode towards him. Looking the scout in the face, he thrust his hand between the spread thighs and brought it up to cradle Piet's balls. He saw Piet's lips part in surprise and colour flood his stubbled cheeks as he gently rubbed the thick shaft with his thumb. Piet made no sound but groaned inwardly at he felt his cock responding to the soldier's touch. He heard the corporal say, his voice little more than a whisper, "Still want to play this the hard way, lad?" Not trusting himself to speak, Piet glared defiantly at the soldier. The men's eyes locked and the corporal's fingers grasped the glans of Piet's fully erect cock and rubbed and kneaded it through the rough material of his trousers, which quickly became damp and sticky. "Another place, another time, eh lad?" The corporal said huskily and, still holding Piet's gaze brought up his hand and licked the salty lube from his fingers. Piet still made no reply but the corporal could see the excitement in the boer's eyes as he placed his hands on the hard roped pecs and flicked the jutting nipples roughly with his thumbs. Then he gripped them and began to twist and maul them savagely. Piet moaned and twisted in his restraints as the corporal's rough, jagged thumb-nails sawed his tortured paps.
Gray watched as the corporal tortured the husky boer. He had always admired the tough taciturn corporal and relished the brief, rare glimpse he had of his hard muscular body and impressive endowment. Now the big cock tented the front of the corporal's breeches and thrust against the boer's jutting manhood. Gray saw the corporal give the nipples a last vicious twist before releasing them and stepping back a pace. He could see that both men were sweating and breathing heavily and watched with growing excitement as the corporal unbuckled the boer's belt and yanked it free. He grasped it by the buckle and wrapped it once around his fist before stepping back a further pace or two. For a long moment the two men held each other's gaze, before the corporal swung back his arm and brought the wide belt down hard across Piet's sore mangled nipples.
Piet moaned and his head dropped back against the post, his teeth bared in a grimace of pain. The belt lashed his pecs hard and relentlessly and the pain in his nipples increased until it felt as if they were
being pierced by red-hot needles, each time the belt struck them. His chest turned pink, then fiery red
Piet watched with growing concern as the corporal searched the contents of his pouches and felt a shiver of fear when, at last, he pulled out the maps and documents. Without giving them more that a cursory glance, he tossed them onto the table and looked up at Piet. "I don't read Afrikaans but that doesn't matter, they're bogus anyway, aren't they?" Piet said nothing. "You're a scout aren't you?" the corporal snapped. Not trusting himself to speak, Piet shook his head. "Oh come on lad, we are scouts too, we know your're one of DeWet's boys." Piet still said and the corporal continued, "We were passing this farmstead early yesterday evening and the cattle were making a hell of a racket. Gray, here, a country boy, said there was something very wrong and we came to investigate. We found the farmer shot dead on the kitchen floor and the upstairs rooms had been ransacked. While Gray saw to the animals, we buried the old boy in the backyard." He paused and his shrewd dark blue eyes studied Piet's face, before he continued again in his deep voice, "Why did the farmer die, we wondered? Was it plain robbery or was there some double-dealing?" Again the dark eyes bored into Piet's.
We know you scouts use remote farms as places for gathering information along with your victuals."
The corporal's voice held a hint of mence as he said, "It would be wise for you to tell us what inform-
ation you are taking to Middleburg and what you know about this little imbroglio. If not lad, I'm afraid it will go badly for you." Piet was sweating and he could feel his heart pounding. He wet his lips and said, "Fuck you, khaki scum." It was meant to sound tough and defiant, but it came out as little more than a croak. "That's what I expected you to say though not in those precise words," the corporal said as he stroked his stubbled chin and eyed the rough wooden posts that supported the kitchen's massive central rafter. "Will one of those be strong enough for our purposes, Gray?" The big soldier frowned in puzzlement for a moment, then his brow cleared and he strode over and pushed and yanked one of the supports. Piet watched the trooper's rippling muscles and bulging biceps, trying not to think about the damage they could do. "Rock solid corporal," Gray said, grinning broadly. The corporal stood up and Piet saw they were the same height and build. "I don't want to do this lad, why not cooperate." Piet spat in his face.
Calmly the corporal wiped away the saliva running down his cheeks and dripping from his moustache, with the back of his hand, but when his gaze met Piet's, the dark blue eyes were blazing.
He brought his knee up hard into Piet's balls. Piet yelled and, as the pain lanced up into his guts, dropped top his knees. "Well he's asked for it lads, let's rig im," the corporal snarled. Piet was hauled up and pushed back against one of the posts. Gray slung a length of rope around his neck and tugged his head back against the rough wood. "Keep still, or I'll choke you Dutchman," Gray hissed in his ear as the corporal stepped forward and began to bind Piet to the post. The rope was passed around the back of Piet's neck, under his armpits and knotted between his shoulder-blades. Brought back over his shoulders, the rope was then knotted over his breastbone. It was pulled down between his pecs, where it was knotted yet again and the ends tugged back and tied tightly behind him. The corporal stood back to admire his work. The rough rope divided Piet's pecs and bit up under them, emphasising and lifting the big firm muscles. Satisfied, he then roped Piet's upper body firmly to the post and said, "All right Gray, you can let go now, he's rigged." The rope was removed from his throat and Piet tugged and twisted his bonds. Although he would be able to move up and down, he could not bend forward as his torso was held rigidly against the post.
Chapter 4
The corporal pulled the khaki shirt out of his breeches, shrugged it off, and strutted over to hung it neatly over the back of a kitchen chair. Then he turned and, fists on hips, surveyed the half-naked prisoner. He saw the the boer had the broad shoulders and hard muscles of a man who works out of doors. The roped pectoral muscles were magnificent and almost hairless though hair spread thickly over the hard-ridged belly and disappeared invitingly under the wide buckled belt. Lowering his eyes further, the corporal noted the huge bulge between the man's widespread legs and felt himself hardening as he strode towards him. Looking the scout in the face, he thrust his hand between the spread thighs and brought it up to cradle Piet's balls. He saw Piet's lips part in surprise and colour flood his stubbled cheeks as he gently rubbed the thick shaft with his thumb. Piet made no sound but groaned inwardly at he felt his cock responding to the soldier's touch. He heard the corporal say, his voice little more than a whisper, "Still want to play this the hard way, lad?" Not trusting himself to speak, Piet glared defiantly at the soldier. The men's eyes locked and the corporal's fingers grasped the glans of Piet's fully erect cock and rubbed and kneaded it through the rough material of his trousers, which quickly became damp and sticky. "Another place, another time, eh lad?" The corporal said huskily and, still holding Piet's gaze brought up his hand and licked the salty lube from his fingers. Piet still made no reply but the corporal could see the excitement in the boer's eyes as he placed his hands on the hard roped pecs and flicked the jutting nipples roughly with his thumbs. Then he gripped them and began to twist and maul them savagely. Piet moaned and twisted in his restraints as the corporal's rough, jagged thumb-nails sawed his tortured paps.
Gray watched as the corporal tortured the husky boer. He had always admired the tough taciturn corporal and relished the brief, rare glimpse he had of his hard muscular body and impressive endowment. Now the big cock tented the front of the corporal's breeches and thrust against the boer's jutting manhood. Gray saw the corporal give the nipples a last vicious twist before releasing them and stepping back a pace. He could see that both men were sweating and breathing heavily and watched with growing excitement as the corporal unbuckled the boer's belt and yanked it free. He grasped it by the buckle and wrapped it once around his fist before stepping back a further pace or two. For a long moment the two men held each other's gaze, before the corporal swung back his arm and brought the wide belt down hard across Piet's sore mangled nipples.
Piet moaned and his head dropped back against the post, his teeth bared in a grimace of pain. The belt lashed his pecs hard and relentlessly and the pain in his nipples increased until it felt as if they were
being pierced by red-hot needles, each time the belt struck them. His chest turned pink, then fiery red
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