This is a fictional story about the rough-hewn cowboy class of Central Texas. It is not copyrighted and may be used by others in any way they wish. It is written for my own pleasure and for that of any readers who may come across it.
Bobsa2005@yahoo.com
One for the Road Chapter 3
Chuck walked the mile and a half down the gravel road to the main highway. He could see the lights of Waterhole in the distance. No cars were in sight, but he would keep walking and try to catch a ride with the next car or truck that came along. That is, if one ever did come along. It was still early. He could easily walk the mile or so that would take him into Waterhole, but he would need a ride in order to go as far as his house in Mudhole.
Chuck stood at the end of the gravel road and, before stepping out onto the highway, looked back at the well-lit cattle pens and buildings on the Carson Ranch. His eyes were still blurred and he couldn't stop tearing up over what had happened. The last several weeks were the happiest and most satisfying of any time in his life. Why did Bubba get so angry, he thought. Chuck had never had a friend as kind and gentle as Bubba. Bubba had changed his life. He had come to love Bubba, the only person he had ever really loved. He had loved Clair. She was a good fuck when she wasn't whining about something. She was a good mother to Chip. And she was a good wife to Chuck. At least she did the best she could with very little.
But Chuck's love for Bubba was different. It was deeper, somehow, and more passionate. Bubba's strength and masculinity and his commanding power sent Chuck's body and mind into a sexual frenzy.
Bubba had now shown Chuck a whole new world. And it was to his liking. That new world was wide open to him now. He would never let anyone, not even Bubba, incarcerate him or imprison him from tasting the fruits of this new and exciting world.
Soon, Chuck found himself on the deserted main street of Waterhole. Still no cars or trucks came along. Looking across the street and down to the end of the block, he saw the flashing green neon sign in the window of the Sorry Ass Tavern. He smiled to himself. That's where it all started, he thought. He hadn't been back since that fateful night. He stood and stared back down the deserted road for a few minutes to see if any cars might be headed his way. There was nothing.
As he crossed the street to the Sorry Ass Tavern, he thought, "I might as well go on in and have one fer the fuckin' road. Standin' out here with my fuckin' thumb up my ass, lookin' like a mother-fuckin' asshole ain't doin' me no fuckin' good."
As Chuck walked in, he saw only three other customers, some rough looking cowboys huddled around a table in a dark corner. Sitting at the deserted bar, Chuck pushed his hat farther back on his head and wiped his forehead with the kerchief he'd removed from around his neck.
When Tony, the bartender, saw him, he said, "Jist lookee here. I ain't seen you since ya left here with old Bubba. I'm glad to see ya. Where the fuck's Bubba, anyways? Did he unhook yer chain?"
"What d'ya mean by that?" said Chuck. "I ain't on no fuckin' chain."
"Well, it jist seems kinda strange to see someone Bubba takes up with out on the loose without Bubba hangin' on to 'em. It either means ya escaped, or he kicked yer ass out."
Chuck took a long swig of his beer and said nothing.
Tony leaned over the bar close to Chuck. "Which is it? Huh? He kicked ya out, didn't he?"
"Naw. He didn't kick me out. We jist sorta had a misunderstandin'."
"I git it," said Tony. "Yer jist a young fella who jist smelled the joys of a good fuck in the ass. Right? And old Bubba don't want that big old cock of yers up anyone's asshole but his. Right?"
"Somethin' like that."
"I figured as much," Tony said. "Ya know, I'm not one who believes in marriage. I tried it a couple of times. And I say, fuck that shit. I made up my mind a long time ago that I'm gonna be free to sample every fuckin' thing the world has to offer."
Chuck smiled and ordered a third bottle of beer. "You got the right idea, Tony. I ain't lettin' no fuckin' little ass pass me by. Nope. No way. And I don't think I made no secret when I was here before that I wanted to git up yer sweet little ass."
Tony's lips curled into a half smile. "I'm sure we can arrange that. Jist as long as Bubba don't find out."
"I don't give a shit if he finds out or not."
"Now you don't mean that. Bubba's given ya a good fuckin' job, and he's a hot mother-fucker. A guy can't git a better fuck from nobody like ya can git from him."
"I 'spose. Hey, Tony, yer a big guy. Why ain't you out workin' on some ranch with all them muscles?"
Tony shook his head. "Well, I used to work right there on the Carson Ranch with Bubba. But I had a fuckin' accident when a horse bucked and fell on my fuckin' leg. I got a gimpy leg and ain't worth much at doin' nothin' now 'cept tendin' bar. Ain't ya seen me limpin'?"
"Yeah, I'm sorry," said Chuck. "Gimme another beer. That guy over there at the table. Ain't he the fucker I beat the shit outta that night"
"Yup. That's Jack. He promised to behave hisself. So I let him back."
As Chuck stood up to go to the restroom, he was beginning to feel the alcohol. "Shit, man, I gotta go take a crap. I ain't taken a crap for three days. But I can feel a big old mother-fuckin' turd pushin' to come out. I love to feel a big turd slide outta my fuckin' asshole. Don't you?"
"Sure. It's second best to a good hard cock."
"I'll be right back." Chuck could feel himself staggering a bit as he walked. He got his pants down and sat on the toilet just in time. There was no door on the stall. He could feel the turd pushing to get out, but it didn't seem to move. Shit, he thought. That turd must be as big as a watermelon. As he strained, Jack walked in and stood in front of him.
Jack put his hands on his hips and said, "Well, if it ain't Bubba's new fuck buddy. I see ya strainin'. Got somethin' up yer ass that won't come out?"
"Shut up," said Chuck as he continued to strain.
"Aw, Chucky boy, what ya gonna do about it? Ya gonna git up and try to beat me up again? Ya know what? I'm gonna fergive ya fer what ya did. I'm gonna help ya git that turd out. Yer really hurtin', aren't ya? When that happens to me, I git my finger up there and loosen up that old shit so it can come out."
"Ohhh, God," moaned Chuck as he wiggled and squirmed on the toilet. "What d'ya mean? I can't git nothin' up there."
Jack took hold of Chuck's arms and said, "Stand up. I'll show ya."
Chuck was ready to try anything and stood up. Jack got on his knees behind Chuck. He said, "Ah, look at this pretty little ass. I'll stir up that old shit in there and it'll come slippin' right out."
Jack pushed three fingers up into Chuck's asshole. "Man, that's a fuckin' big hard turd. I'll jist mash it up good with my fingers, and it oughta pop right out."
As Jack moved his fingers rapidly inside Chuck's rectum, Chuck could feel his turd begin to move and slowly slide out. Jack pulled his fingers out as the turd slid out into his hands. Jack held it up and smelled it and touched his tongue to it.
"Mmmmm. Good and hot and nasty," purred Jack. "Want a taste?"
Chuck grabbed some toilet paper and wiped himself. "Shit, no."
Chuck pulled up his pants and washed his hands as Jack remained on his knees looking lovingly at the foot-long shit in his hands. Chuck was feeling really drunk and staggered back to his bar stool.
"Tony, that Jack is weird. He helped me git a fuckin' shit out my ass and . . . ."
"Don't tell me, Chuck. He ate yer shit."
"I think so."
"Jack loves to watch shit come out of a guy and then he eats it."
"Has he eaten yers?
"Yeah, a lotta times."
"Well, I guess I have to be grateful to him. I was really consterpated, and he pulled that shit right outta me. I spose I should thank him fer that."
Tony shook his head. "Whenever Jack sees someone go into the can, he follows 'em. Then after they the guy takes a shit, Jack tells 'em that the toilet is clogged and not to flush it. When the guy leaves, he digs down in that toilet and takes that old shit chews on it."
As the evening wore on, more customers came in, and Chuck was getting drunker and drunker. Soon, a person joined Tony behind the bar. He couldn't tell whether it was a man or a woman.
Tony said, "I want ya to meet the HD. She comes in to help me when the customers start pouring in."
"HD? What's that."
"The Head Dyke. Come over here Marni. I want ya to meet someone. This is Marni. She's our resident diesel dyke."
"Glad to meet ya, Chuck. Tony's told me about ya. Yer jist as gorgeous as he said. And yer real young, too. Tony, I'll take over here if the two of ya wanna get more acquainted, if ya know what I mean."
Tony walked out from around the bar and took hold of Chuck's arm. "Come on, Chuck, I'll join ya with another beer back in my room."
Chuck stood up and everything was whirling around. His knees felt as though they were about to buckle. Tony put his arm around Chuck's waist and held him up as they walked back into Tony's room. The bed was all unmade and rumpled.
"Well, Chuck, this is where I sleep. Home sweet home."
Chuck collapsed like a bag full of tire irons onto the bed. He felt as though he was flying in circles. Everything in the room was spinning around him. Tony removed Chuck's boots and socks, and slowly undid Chuck's pants and pulled them off. As soon as Chuck was completely naked, Tony removed his own clothes and lay down beside him. Chuck's penis stood up as hard as a steel rod. Tony leaned over and ran his tongue over the head of it.
"Mmmmm. Tastes good. I think ya got a little piss runnin' out of it."
Chuck could feel himself losing consciousness and was only slightly aware of his legs being lifted and something tickling his asshole.
Tony pushed his face into Chuck's hairy crack. "Mmmmm. I love a good mother-fuckin' asshole. Yer's tastes so hot and sweaty and dirty. Ya love a good fuckin' asshole, Chuck?"
Chuck was so drunk he heard someone talking, but he couldn't understand the words.
Tony said, "Here, lemme sit on yer face. You can git a good taste of my raunchy asshole."
As Tony lowered his ass onto Chuck's face, Chuck felt as though he was getting smothered, but loved the taste of the wet and salty hair in Tony's ass. Once again, he felt himself drifting away. He was soon vaguely aware that his legs were being lifted up again and Tony's hard penis pushing its way into his hole. As it entered, Chuck let out a long juicy fart. Then all went dark.
When Chuck finally awoke, sunlight was pouring in on him from the window. He felt almost paralyzed. He didn't know where he was. His asshole was burning and his mouth was dry as sand. He tried to raise his head, but it felt as though rocks were bouncing around inside of it. He felt his face, and flakes of dried cum came off on his fingers. He had no memory of what happened or how he got into this strange room. The bed was soaked and he could smell is was piss. Had he emptied his bladder while he was asleep? He soon lost consciousness again.
Chuck awoke again in mid-afternoon to find Tony lying next to him running his tongue over the hair on Chuck's legs.
"What happened? Where am I?"
"Don't you remember?" said Tony. "You were our fuck pig last night? You are the hottest nineteen year old I ever fucked."
"What do ya mean I was 'our' fuck pig?"
"Well, ya didn't seem to mind. Me and some of the guys gave ya a good fuck last night."
"Some of the guys? Who?"
"Jist some of the guys."
"Ohhh. My fuckin' head is killin' me. And my asshole feels like it's full of hot fuckin' coals."
Tony ran his tongue up over the soft hair on Chuck's inner thighs. "You taste so fuckin' good. I never knew any mother-fucker could have as beautiful a body as yers. All these gorgeous muscles and all."
"Aw, shit," said Chuck. "I'm afraid I peed all over the bed when I conked out."
Tony laughed. "No ya didn't. A couple of guys got their kicks and peed on ya last night."
"I feel terrible. I got to git goin'."
"No ya don't, Chuck. What you need is another beer. That'll fix ya up."
Tony helped Chuck get back into his clothes and led him out into the bar where Chuck collapsed at a table. "Now you sit here and I'll git ya somethin' cold to drink."
Tony brought over two bottles of beer and several packages of cheese crackers. Chuck drank without stopping until he'd drained half a bottle.
"Shit, that tastes good," said Chuck. I feel like my mouth is full of shit."
It was now late afternoon and Chuck had finished off three bottles of beer. He began to feel much better. Soon, Jack and two of his friends came in and sat down with him.
"Well, lookee here," said Jack. If it ain't our cute little fuck pig. All recovered."
"What're ya talkin' about."
Jack reached over and took Chuck's hand and laid it on his own bulge. "Ya feel that? That rod was up yer ass last night. Twice. And so were my friends here."
Although Chuck felt confused, he rather enjoyed feeling the hard cock pressing against Jack's jeans. "Twice?" he said. "And you other guys, too?"
"Yeah. And ya licked up some of our ball juice when we shot it in yer fuckin' face. Remember?"
"No."
"And we flushed ya down with our piss. There's nothing too good fer a friend of Bubba's."
Bubba? Chuck had forgotten about Bubba. "Is Bubba here?"
"Shit no. He's probably back at his place fuckin' some other poor pathetic sucker like you."
Chuck thought Jack was probably right. He finished off another beer and started rubbing Jack's bulge a little harder. Jack was wearing only a strap undershirt and Chuck could hardly take his eyes off of his greatly developed pecs and hard nipples showing through.
"Ya like this?" said Jack as he pulled off his undershirt and unzipped his pants, allowing his hard cock to spring free. Come on, fuck pig, take a little of these nine inches in yer fuckin' mouth."
Without hesitation, Chuck leaned over and took most of Jack's gorged penis into his mouth. "Ya like it, fuck pig? Suck it harder. Take it all."
Chuck began to gag and pulled off suddenly. He sat up as they all grinned at him. He finished off another beer and he was once again feeling really good---and really horny. After another couple of hours, he could feel himself being lifted from the chair and, with Jack's arm around him, being guided outside. He was lifted into the bed of an oversized pick-up truck and lay there, still feeling good, as the three men ripped off his clothes. He was drunk again, but could see through blurry eyes that they had all stripped down themselves. He could feel his legs being lifted and a hard cock plunging into his asshole with no lubricant. He grimaced as the burning was now worse than ever. Before he could hardly catch his breath, another hard penis was forced into his mouth, gagging him. He wanted to fight back, but he had no strength. His muscles felt as though they were paralyzed and totally unresponsive. There was gravel on the truck bed and it was digging painfully into his back. He tried to push Jack off of him, but his arms were like jelly. The pain in his rectum was so severe that it sapped all his strength.
As chuck felt a flood of bitter sperm pouring into his mouth, he began to chock and cough. He felt as though he was going to vomit. As soon as Jack shot his load into Chuck's rectum, another hard cock plunged into it. The pain had become almost unbearable. He was drunk and felt sick and began to lose consciousness.
He didn't know how long he'd been out, but when he awoke, Jack was fucking him again. And then the other two fucked him. When they were through, he lay there unable to see. He though he was blind. Then suddenly, he felt a terrible wallop across the face, then another, and another. The three men then stood over him and pissed out their bladders over his face and body.
Again, he passed out, but awoke lying alone in the gravel of the parking lot. The truck was gone, together with his clothes and his watch. He struggled to sit up and suddenly felt terribly sick. He began to vomit all over his chest and legs. He lay back down, hardly able to move. Turning his head, he could see the back door of the Sorry Ass Tavern. Crawling toward it, he hardly felt his knees and hands turning bloody in the gravel.
Just inside the door was the restroom. He crawled in and collapsed on the piss covered floor. As he rolled over, he saw that he had been bleeding. Blood had been running down the backs of his legs. He began to sob uncontrollably. He still felt sick and suddenly began the dry heaves.
Out in the bar, Bubba had come in for a beer. As he sat talking to Tony, neither one mentioned Chuck's name. Bubba wondered why Tony hadn't asked about Chuck. About where he was. Tony had always been insatiably curious about everything, and Bubba thought it strange that Tony wasn't curious about Chuck.
"Tony, I spose yer wonderin' where the fuck Chuck is. I might as well tell ya, he decided to leave. I don't know where the fuck he is."
Tony hesitated and then said, "Well, Bubba, he came in here last night and had a few beers."
"He did? Where was he headin'?"
"Don't know. But as long as you two ain't with each other anymore, I might as well tell ya that he stayed with me last night."
"He did? Where the fuck is he now?"
"Don't know, Bubba. He was in here tonight, too. But he left with some other mother-fuckers."
"Which mother-fuckers is that?"
"Well, it was Jack and . . . ."
"Jack? That son-of-a-bitch. He's the one that Chuck flattened that night. What the fuck did he go off with him fer?"
Tony thought he'd better not mention that Jack and his buddies, along with himself, had all fucked Chuck last night.
Just then, one of the patrons came hurrying out of the restroom and said to Tony, "Hey Tony, there's some fucker lyin' on the floor in the can. He's completely naked and I think he's sick and hurt real bad."
Bubba said, "You stay here, Tony. Let me go in and see what I can do."
When Bubba walked in, he didn't recognize Chuck at first. There was a gash on the side of his face and both eyes were practically swollen shut. There was blood smeared on the floor around him. His body was wet and covered with sand and dirt and vomit. Bubba knelt down and, when he realized it was Chuck, he shouted, "Chuck, oh Chuck! Jesus Christ! Can ya hear me?"
Chuck said nothing. He showed no recognition of Bubba. Bubba lifted Chuck's head slightly, but it was like a dead weight. He jumped up and went to the door and called to Tony to a get him a blanket or a sheet. In a few moments, Tony brought in a blanket.
"Now git hold of his fuckin' feet," said Bubba, "And I'll git his shoulders, and let's lift him onto the blanket."
Tony stared in shock at Chuck. He knew what had happened. If he hadn't invited Jack and his friends to fuck the boy in the first place, this never would have happened.
"Okay, Tony, go back to yer fuckin' customers. I'll take it from here."
Bubba wrapped the blanket around Chuck. With some wet paper towels, he gently wiped the dirt off his face. Chuck began to move his lips and head. Bubba leaned over and kissed him on the forehead.
Bubba suddenly choked up and tears ran down his cheeks. "Oh, Chuck, my dear sweet boy. I didn't mean fer ya to leave. I didn't mean to hurt ya. Yer only nineteen. I don't know what the fuck happened. But I shoulda been here to protect ya. Chuck? Chuck? Can ya hear me. Can ya say somethin'?"
Bubba brought Chuck up to a sitting position and pressed the boy's head against his chest. Chuck said nothing and sat limply in Bubba's arms.
"Oh, Chuck. I'm gonna take care of ya. We're gonna go home now and yer gonna be alright." As the tears continued to roll down Bubba's face, he whispered, "I love ya, boy. I didn't mean what I said to ya. I didn't mean fer ya to leave. Come on. Let's go home."
Bubba picked Chuck up in his arms and walked out the back door to his truck. He put him in the passenger seat. When Bubba got in, he could see Chuck looking at him through swollen eyes. There was no expression there. It was as though Chuck was unaware of anything. It was almost as though he were dead.
Bubba carried Chuck into the house and laid him on the bed. He carefully sponge-bathed his body. He cleaned and bandaged the cut on Chuck's face, as well as his bloodied knees and hands and back. Chuck's asshole looked raw and swollen, but was no longer bleeding. Bubba packed a clean soft towel in Chuck's crack. Chuck continued to be unresponsive and had obviously fallen asleep. Bubba turned off the light, leaving only a faint glow from the yard lights outside. He covered Chuck with a sheet and a blanket, and pulled a chair up close to the bed and sat down, still fully dressed. This is where he would remain for the night. He sat for a long time there, looking into Chuck's sad and tortured face, and gently brushing back Chuck's hair from his forehead.
After a long time, Bubba could feel sleep overtaking him. He stood up and kissed Chuck once more on the forehead. "My sweet boy. I didn't have no right to do what I did. I love ya. Will ya forgive me?
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