THE END OF THE LINE by Ganymede

Thanks to Bricamar for his thoughtful dedication of "Three Weeks to 
Heaven, A Boylove Romance." I am placing this story in the Nifty archive to 
continue his western theme and in appreciation of his wonderful story. 


WARNING:

This story contains graphic descriptions of consensual sexual acts among 
men and MINOR boys. I do not condone either incest or child abuse except in 
the imaginary form presented here. If the subject of man/boy sex offends 
you, if  this material is illegal in your place of residence, or if you are 
under the  legal age for such material, do not read further! You have been 
warned! Read  at your own risk!

The story is copyrighted under the pseudonym, Ganymede. A single copy  
has been placed in the Nifty archives. Feel free to post it to appropriate  
newsgroups or send it to your friends. If distributing my story for 
monetary  gain, please contribute $50 to the Nifty archive.

The story is fiction. Any resemblance to any individual, alive or 
dead, is unfortunate. Apologies are made in advance to any offended person 
or group.

FINAL WARNING:

If you are under the age of 18, if this material is illegal in your  
place of residence, or if man-boy relationships aren't your thing, then exit 
now and save yourself from a life of sin!


THE END OF THE LINE by Ganymede  


CHAPTER 1: BOYS IN THE CORRAL

The painted horse was over fifteen hands high, but the boy sitting 
astride its back controlled it with natural ease. He rode as if he was 
joined to the thousand pound beast beneath him, his sixty-five pounds little 
more than a minor inconvenience to the horse. From a distance, he could have 
been mistaken for a Navajo boy-warrior from a century earlier. Except for 
his clothes and haircut, only the western-style saddle with its dark, 
polished, hand-tooled leather suggested otherwise. But he was as comfortable 
bare-back as he was in the saddle for he had grown up riding, starting with 
his first pinto pony when he was just four years old. Now, six years later, he 
guided the horse's movements with little more than a firm squeeze of his lithe 
legs, their apparent strength contradicted by their slenderness. His 
appearance was deceiving, his wiry body perfectly adapted to the rugged 
mesas and canyons found on the Navajo reservation, where a few extra pounds of 
fat instead of lean muscle was the difference between a bad fall and some 
bruises, or a broken bone and worse. Shelby Cassidy was all sinew, muscle, and 
bone. Since he had mounted nearly an hour earlier, he had touched the reins 
that lay draped across the horse's withers no more than a dozen times. He rode 
effortlessly, yet the heat was enough to fleck his smooth brow with beads of 
sweat. Sweat formed on his slim chest, leaving streaks until it moistened 
the waist of his well-worn jeans clinging to his narrow hips several inches 
below his taut brown belly.

The horse wheeled and galloped towards the fence, veering away only at 
the last moment before stopping. The boy nudged the horse's flanks gently, 
guiding it back into the milling herd. The mares moved away to make a path for 
the intruder. He approached the foal cautiously, placing himself between the 
nervous foal and its mother as he guided it beside the fence. For a moment the 
foal trembled before it started quickly towards its mother. The boy's horse 
closed the gap and turned the foal away, running it parallel to the fence 
and towards the open gate. As they approached, another boy, several years 
younger than the rider but similarly slender, swung the gate open just 
enough to allow them to pass through. The gate closed behind them. It had 
taken only a matter of seconds and had occurred with such mechanical precision 
that it appeared very easy.

Instinctively the foal sensed danger and without the reassuring 
proximity of its mother, panicked. It bolted to the side that was suggested an 
opening back to the corral. The boy's horse lunged after it, responding to 
an instantaneous pressure of small heels jabbing into its flanks.

"Better git a rope on him, Shelby," Matt yelled. "Or you'll be chasin' 
the critter 'round the corral all day."

"Yeah, Shelby," the other boy piped up unnecessarily. "Rope him!"

Although appropriate, their instructions came late. The lasso was 
already off the saddle horn and a moment later it snaked through the air. 
Despite the foal's frenzied and erratic movement, the loop dropped neatly over 
its head and tightened close to its shoulders. Matt watched and grinned. He 
knew there would be no sickening thud as the foal was brought to the ground, 
not even a strangled neigh as it was throttled. The boy was very good at this. 
He was a natural cowboy, far better than any of the men who had worked for him 
in fifteen years. The foal stopped suddenly and the horse braked hard, 
stepping backwards to keep the tension on the rope. The boy moved fluidly, 
sliding from the horse's back and dropping smoothly and quickly to the ground.

He was bare from the waist up. He was ten years old in the Spring and 
his body, though firmly muscled and lithe like a mountain cat, was still 
that of a young boy. He was tanned from long exposure to the late-spring 
days and from many hours on horseback as they rounded up the herd. His 
tattered jeans had once been his best pair of blue jeans, but they still had 
another year of life left in them before they were passed down to his brother. 
Like the rest of the Bar-None ranch, his clothes were frayed on the edges--
well-worn and showing the signs of a hard life in northwestern New Mexico. 
With one hand on the rope Shelby walked slowly towards the foal. He spoke 
quietly, reassuring the horse in Navajo. It was his mother's tongue before she 
had abandoned her two sons and husband of five years and returned to the 
reservation.

"Good job, Shelby," Matt said as he approached. He assessed the animal 
expertly. "He's a fine animal. He's gotta be one of Drummer's foals I think. 
Still, he ain't close to bein' good enough to breed."

Matt Cassidy, was dressed in a ragged pair of Levis. He wore a tee shirt 
that was ripped across the shoulder and stained with oil and sweat. He carried 
two tools. One was a crimping tool that would insert the Bar-None tag into the 
foal's ear. It was a lot less painful for the animal than branding. The 
other tool was a strange device with three claws that opened outwards when the 
handles were pressed together.

"You going to geld him, Da?" Shelby asked as he stroked the frightened 
foal into submission. His fingers pressed through the mane as he massaged 
its withers with a firm pressure. The foal moved uncertainly, ready to break 
away.

His question was not antagonistic. Castration was simply a fact of 
life on a ranch. Only a few male animals, foals, lambs, or calves survived the 
Spring round-up with their testicles intact. Those animals were carefully 
culled and put aside. The rest were castrated. He felt no sympathy for the 
animal, that had disappeared several years ago when his father had been 
gored by an enraged bull. It was more than the fact that a gelding was 
docile compared to stallion, it was a matter of quality control. Shelby's 
outstretched hand reached to brush over the foal's forehead, slipping downward 
until he gently stroked the its nose. Still frightened, but not knowing the 
excruciating pain ahead, the animal nuzzled his fingers. Without knowing 
what lay would happen next, its irrational fear had already vanished. It was 
replaced with an immediate bond with the softly crooning boy.

"Yeah, I'm going to geld him, Shelby. He's not much use for anything 
like this. The last thing we need around here are more painted stallions, 
Son."

"I guess." The boy's hands shuddered as he rubbed the foal's cheek, 
scratching slowly under its head. "I s'pose it's better than the way you 
used to do it."

He sighed audibly. A year or two before his father had been gored, he 
used to feel an animal's agony as the razor-sharp knife sliced open its 
scrotal pouch. There was always some blood, but it was usually less than 
expected given that the animal's balls had been severed. For some reason, 
especially if one judged by the sounds of terror, he always thought there 
would be a lot of blood. It was a cruel ritual that at seven years old, left 
him wondering how bad it would feel if his own tiny balls were cut off. By the 
end of the day when the bucket was full of testicles, the ground in the corral 
would be spotted with blood. The dust near the fence would turn to thick 
mud, not from blood but from the urine of fear-stricken animals. That was 
where the castrations had been performed. He had grown up watching the 
annual event, heedless of the blood that splattered his clothes. The rite-of-
passage of wielding the knife himself was something that he would never 
know. Technology and eighty dollars for the pliers had seen to that, and he 
was grateful.

"You know, I never liked cuttin' 'em, off son. Too damned easy for 
them to get infected, and the pain must be horrendous for the poor critters."

Matt placed his hand holding the strange tool on the foal's rump. His 
other hand moved to the pocket of his jeans and he pulled out a cone-shaped 
rubber band. He centered it over the three claws in the closed position and 
squeezed the handles together. The rubber stretched and formed a triangular 
opening nearly three inches across. He squatted down by the foal's haunches. 
As he did so a dog barked and he jumped back as the foal lurched away. He 
looked up angrily and bellowed at the young boy now sitting back on the gate 
with his legs swinging aimlessly against the rails. A large dog, a mixed breed 
like the boy himself, was standing on its hind legs and trying to lick the 
boy's bare thigh as it moved back and forth temptingly. It was mostly german 
shepherd. although somewhere in a prior generation it had picked up the 
genes of a retriever. Like the boy, it benefited from the heritage of its 
parents.

"For God's sake! Get the dog outta here, Shane. Take him up to the 
barn will you if you want to play with him. Anyway, we're almost done down 
here for the day," Matt Cassidy added with relief.

He looked back at the bare-chested boy beside him. His eldest son was 
a very handsome boy. He was rugged like the mountains of New Mexico. His 
tousled dark hair glistened like obsidian in the dying sunlight. Half-
Navajo, half-white, Shelby was more like his mother in physical appearance 
than his father dared admit. For one thing he was equally beautiful. The 
similarity ended there, for in other ways that were more important than 
appearance, the boy favored his maternal grandfather. His big dark eyes were 
not only full of life and fun, but sensuous as well. They were magnetic 
eyes, liquid pools that absorbed a person's gaze until it seemed that his soul 
was looking into yours. He was also sexy in a way that a boy should not be, 
although other than occasional self-pleasuring, the boy was still 
inexperienced. Still, there was an aura about the child, the quickness of 
his smile, the flutter of dark long lashes, simple looks that lingered and 
hinted at another very different boy within him. Many times Matt had found 
cause to wonder at what lay still undisturbed within his son.

"Hold him steady, Shelby," Matt instructed as he squatted down again. 

This time the animal stayed still. Even as his strong fingers closed 
around the foal's soft scrotum, it was motionless. He heard the boy crooning 
to the foal's pointed ear, whispering soft Navajo words of endearment like a 
lover during post-coital bliss. He felt the animal's testicles. Already they 
felt as large as his own, although they were still seedless like those of 
his two sons. He guided the egg-shaped organs between the claws and wobbled 
the tool slightly to settle the scrotum evenly. The thick red band of rubber 
encircled the skin between the foal's testicles and the dark sheath of skin 
that protected its retracted penis.

"You can take the rope off him now, Shelby," Matt said softly. "Just 
hold him in case he bolts before it's on his balls.

The foal jerked abruptly as the handles snapped back into place and 
the band clamped its scrotum into a thin tube. It squeezed both testicles into 
a tightly stretched ball. It whinnied frantically in shock as much from the 
amount of pain and the speed at which it came. Matt Cassidy leaped back as the 
foal reared up and bellowed for its mother. It slammed into the boy and 
knocked him sprawling to the ground and onto his father before it bolted at 
break-neck gallop back to stand its mother on the other side of the fence. 
It was the last of a long day that had started two hours before sunrise.

"For God's sake, Shelby, I told you to hold him steady," Matt laughed.

His arms locked around the boy's bare chest and he hugged his son 
tightly before he started to tickle under his arms. His fingers dug between 
Shelby's ribs as he struggled valiantly. They laughed as they wrestled in 
the dust. For several minutes they writhed and tumbled on the ground, 
shamelessly oblivious to the grime that covered them. They stopped only when 
they were breathless and they lay still, panting from their playful 
exertions and a long hard day of work. Shelby settled back in his father's 
strong embrace. It felt good to be held close, even if he was getting too 
old for a hug. His father breathed out slowly, a long tired sigh.

"Da?" Shelby asked between gasps," Da, you don't think it hurts him real 
bad?"

He watched the foal as it shuddered against the fence, bruising its 
flank as it tried to terminate the searing pain that existed between its 
hind legs. Its penis was extended and urine formed a dark wet circle on the 
ground as it dribbled from the pain-impaired organ. Every animal did that it 
seemed. Shelby swallowed uncomfortably. At least there was no blood now.

"He'll get over it in a few minutes, Shel. I don't think it hurts real 
bad, son. It's over fast. There cain't be nothing as bad as cuttin' 'em off."

"How do you know, Da?" the boy persisted. "You know his balls will 
drop off 'cause it cuts into 'em. That's got to hurt somethin' awful!"

"Yeah son, but you see, it takes a week or two. I reckon his balls are 
numb after the first hour or two so it don't hurt too bad after that. Besides, 
I heard it doesn't hurt a lot when they're gelded at his age. A stallion might 
be a lot different, I s'pose. He's got a lot more to lose than that little guy 
over there has. That foal's a bit like you. You ain't got that much down there 
yet, and if you got kicked or somethin' it usually don't hurt all that much. 
You'd get over it pretty fast too, not like when you're older. Unless a 
horse kicked you of course, then you might have a bad time of it like poor old 
Shane did. I reckon it hurts real bad anytime, but when you're all growed up 
down there it hurts like hell."

"Yeah! But how do you know how much it hurts? Have you tried it?" The 
boy giggled as he tried to wriggle away from his father's strong embrace.

"Of course not! I'm no damn gelding. I fathered you and Shane didn't I?" 
Matt Cassidy laughed. "Maybe I oughta try one out on you, Shelby. You can tell 
me how bad it hurts."

"No way!" the boy retorted. "You're not putting one of them things on my 
balls. NO WAY!" he shrieked playfully, laughing as he added, "Put one of 'em 
on your own balls if you wanna find out how bad it feels, Da!"

Even though he grinned at his father there was a weird sensation he felt 
that electrified him with the thought of being like the foal. Unmanned. Almost 
sickening, it made him shiver with fear as he considered the prospect. His 
small hands moved protectively to his crotch, cupped over the noticeable bulge 
of his small treasure. The gesture was not unnoticed by his father. Its 
meaning was ambiguous, either the boy knew that he had gone too far, or he was 
offering himself to the man who lay half over him.

If anything happened it was only to be expected on the lonely mesa. Matt 
Cassidy and his two sons lived a hard life surrounded by ever-present 
nature, of animals courting, propagating, and bringing forth new life every 
spring. It was a hermit life, and while they were secluded from both women and 
society that finds a child's sexuality abhorrent, the boys' sexuality 
burgeoned. It was a frontier morality and they were raised with few 
inhibitions. It would not be the first time that Shelby Cassidy had indulged 
in sex play with his father, nor would it be the last time. Those times were 
frequent enough, but until recently they had never extended beyond grabbing 
his 'nuts' and yelling 'squirrel', flipping a towel at his groin when he 
stepped out of the shower, or dragging him out of bed in the mornings and 
playfully slapping his bare buttocks to 'wake' him up. Of course, the boy 
usually became erect if he was not already stiff beforehand. It occurred 
with such regularity and apparent innocence that a sexual connotation had 
not occurred to the virgin ten-year-old boy.

"You wanna bet, boy? One of these dang things would fit your balls 
even better than that poor pony," Matt challenged crudely. "If I did, a coupla 
hours from now you'd be no different to Shane."

For some reason he was excited. Matt Cassidy's heart jumped and his 
flagging energy rallied. There was no explanation for the thrill that 
possessed him. Perhaps it was the result of his own frustration. It had been a 
long day and the foals were fewer in number than in past years. That was 
because of the drought the previous year when a dozen horses had died on the 
range. His arousal could not happen at a worse time. Beyond the disappointment 
and lingering sense of defeat, there had always been a dark side to Matt 
Cassidy. It had been suppressed with increasing difficulty as his babies 
blossomed into very attractive boys. Now, like the wild flowers of Spring, 
it blossomed with his eldest son, and for the first time threatened his self-
control.

Although Matt Cassidy had seen his son naked every day of his young 
life, he wanted to see him bare-assed for the second time that day. He 
wanted to see his son's small penis and hairless groin, even to hold his 
immature testicles in his fingers the same way that he had done to the foal. 
The thought of unmanning the child was distant in his mind. It was no more 
than a barely realized possibility and yet he drew strength from it. It was 
the same sense of omnipotent power that came from using the knife or the claws 
on a foal or calf, of severing a beast's power before it had a chance to 
hurt him like the bull had done two years earlier. He had no desire to hurt 
Shelby. He loved his son earnestly, but there was something that aroused his 
interest. It was the same feeling he had when he slapped his son's bare ass 
and his hand lingered for as long as he dared on the boy's firm smooth cheeks. 
He recognized his desire and squelched it. It was a feeling not unlike when he 
copulated with the boys' mother, only it was much stronger for her son. He 
challenged it, denied it, but could not avoid the truth of it. He desired 
the boy in a sexual way.

For a moment he glanced down at the still breathless youngster. Shelby 
was so much more attractive than his ex-wife that it gave him cause for 
consternation. His was a fragile disconcerting beauty, a delicately sculpted 
face that was far less Navajo than European and countered the boy's visible 
maleness. His eyes travelled further down the lean brown torso as he looked 
for other femininities. Where his wife had small plump breasts, the boy was 
flat-chested with dime-sized, dark nipples. His sun tanned shoulders and chest 
were well-muscled and his body tapered to a narrow waist. Unlike his mother, 
Shelby's navel was extruded, a whorl of brown flesh set squarely in a firm, 
muscled belly. Ten years earlier his father had knotted his umbilical cord 
with clumsy fingers as the rain continued to pour down for the first time in a 
year. The boy's navel fascinated him, just as his wife's had once held his 
interest when he ejaculated over her belly. He swallowed as the next thought 
came to him. Unlike her, his semen would not form a small white puddle in 
Shelby's navel. It would run to the sides, even dribbling down around his 
small hairless sex. He shuddered instinctively as he recognized that the 
idea excited him, his son covered in his semen.

He breathed out, becoming more emboldened with every second. His heart 
was pounding and adrenaline boosted his desire to see the boy naked. His hands 
were strong and he easily brushed away the laughing boy's feeble attempts to 
prevent him from undoing the copper-covered button and brass zipper of his 
ragged jeans. Despite his scowling countenance and obvious displeasure at 
being stripped in the corral, Shelby wriggled and squirmed. With shock, Matt 
Cassidy realized that his son was not resisting. Shelby was encouraging him to 
drag his jeans down to his knees. He went so far as to even lift his 
buttocks upward and wriggle his legs helpfully as the faded denim was yanked 
downward. Although it had never happened in the corral before, being 
forcibly stripped by his father was not new to him.

Matt was silent as he saw the boy's sex organs appear. Even though he 
had watched Shelby dress that morning, for some strange reason he had expected 
to find underpants. But there were none as usual and Shelby was naked. And 
he was rapidly becoming hard. The small erection was both amusing and 
frightening, so disturbing that Matt Cassidy closed his eyes and tried to 
focus his confusion on a dim and much less desirable image of his ex-wife, 
on any woman who could supplant this remarkable boy. When he opened his eyes 
again Shelby's penis was rigid. It poked away from his body defying gravity 
like a small, tapered spike that was three inches long, perhaps less. It 
grew from a broad base that seemed to disappear into a fold of skin that 
became his fat little scrotum. It bulged slightly over a surprisingly small 
glans before ending in a pointed tip. Unlike Matt's own penis, Shelby's 
foreskin was still intact. However, underneath the thin membrane of skin, 
the rounded form of his glans was very discernible. His penis was shaped 
like those Navajo boys whose lineage included a measure of Spanish 
conquistador blood, a further indication of his genetic and cultural heritage. 
Shelby kicked his legs, bringing his slender thighs together, pulling his legs 
through the jeans until they were bunched at his ankles. He was almost 
naked. He lay quietly in the dry red dust, gazing up to meet his father's 
interest with his own dark somber eyes. His breathing slowed until his chest 
rose and fell slowly. Even without looking downward, he knew his penis was 
erect. It did not bother him. Erections were normal in the Cassidy home, and 
not just in the morning.

"Da, you really going to put one of those things on my balls?" the boy 
asked uncertainly. He swallowed uncomfortably, oblivious to his nudity, but 
becoming increasingly wary of his father's strange behavior. It was a weird 
game, but one that he was prepared to play, even enthusiastically.

Matt glanced back at his son's face, relieved momentarily that his 
attention had been diverted from between the boy's slender evenly tanned legs. 
The sight that inspired his desire was never far away. He glanced back again 
as if to reassure himself that Shelby's small penis was indeed erect, and he 
nodded.

"Hardly! If I did, and Shane being the way he is now, well it'd be the 
end of the Cassidy line, wouldn't it?"

"Why?" Shelby asked.

"'cause your balls are where you make sperm, 'n sperm's what makes 
babies. If you can't make babies then there there can't be any more 
Cassidy's can there?" Matt explained. "Why do you think we put the dang things 
on the colts for?"

"To geld them?"

Matt laughed. "Jesus, what do you think I do it for, Shel'? Sure a 
gelding's a whole lot quieter than a stallion, but the main reason I do it 
is so he cain't make sperm." 

"Oh!"

father and son shared a smile. Matt's eyes travelled slowly down 
Shelby's lean body. "You got yourself a real hard-on there, Shelby," he 
teased. "Just look at your little man standing up so proud and hard."

"It's stiff like that every mornin' when I get outta bed."

Again Matt laughed. "You must be gittin' off too much. 's okay to play 
with it, but you don't wanna wear the dang thing out 'fore you git married."

Only one time had he touched Shelby's erect penis in something more than 
a playful way. It occurred during the early spring and a day or two before his 
son's tenth birthday. Earlier that evening, Shelby had discovered his father 
masturbating in the barn. As the boy rushed off red-faced and upset, Matt 
Cassidy realized that it was time to talk to his eldest son. On a ranch, 
boys learned about sex from watching the animals. However there were some 
things that a boy would not discover by watching a stallion mount a mare. He 
came to the conclusion that it was time for his son to learn how to pleasure 
himself.

Late that night he sat beside his eldest son as he lay in his bed. 
Next to Shelby, Shane was sound asleep. He gently guided the boy's right 
hand onto his penis. There was no embarrassment from the curious youngster 
as he followed his father's quiet instructions. His penis hardened rapidly and 
as the pleasurable feelings became stronger, Shelby made the same discovery 
that all boys make. He was a fast learner with a good teacher. His little hand 
fluttered swiftly up and down the short shaft, fingers vibrating like the 
wings of a hummingbird. He extracted all the pleasure he could ever want, 
and then some. There was no orgasm, but Matt Cassidy knew that it would come 
eventually. All it would take was a few more times and the courage to continue 
past the point of losing control.

Matt picked up the claws and grinned coarsely. "Don't worry Shelby, I 
ain't going to geld you," he chortled. "I wouldn't do it, not unless you're 
real bad, of course."

The boy giggled and flexed his penis provocatively. "I bet you 
wouldn't put it on me even if I was real bad."

"Don't bet on it, Shelby." Matt laughed. "These little balls of yours 
are too precious. There's a good reason why some people call 'em the family 
jewels. You need 'em to make more Cassidy's. I'm depending on you after your 
brother's accident," Matt Cassidy grinned and  as he placed a finger against 
the boy's silky scrotum. He could barely feel the tiny testicles. They were 
barely the size of beans.

"When?"

"When what?"

"I mean how long before I can make babies, Da?"

"It seems like your balls ain't nearly big enough for that," Matt said 
as he fingered the two eggs. "Coupla years I guess. Most boys start shootin' 
'round twelve. First your balls have got to get bigger and drop."

"Drop?"

Matt nodded. "See right now you're like that foal we just done. Your 
balls are up close to your body. When you're ready to shoot sperm they get a 
whole lot bigger and drop down into your bag. You seen how Drummer's balls 
hang loose?"

"I ain't no foal," Shelby retorted.

"That's right, son. And you ain't no stallion either, least not for a 
few years. When you're a man, your balls will hang low like mine. Right now 
your little boy-balls are up close."

With a smile he lifted Shelby's testicles up. They were so small that 
they seemed to defy the possibility of future manhood. He could feel the 
delicate web of vessels under the silky scrotum as he pushed the skin and both 
tiny eggs with his fingertips. He sensed, as much as felt the uneasiness in 
the young body. A boy was right to be concerned about that part of his 
anatomy. Automatically the little scrotum began to contract. Within a matter 
of seconds Shelby's delicate flesh became taut and wrinkled and his 
testicles had formed a small lump as they were drawn upwards.

Matt grinned sheepishly as he gazed at his nude son. Like this, and 
avoiding the squat erect penis, Shelby was very much like a girl. His eyes 
came back to the boy's sex. The shaft flexed slightly, lifting away from his 
flat belly and pointing proudly towards his navel. Lovingly Matt caressed 
the shrivelled scrotum. With one finger on either side of Shelby's penis he 
pushed the tiny eggs upward into the inguinal canals. They disappeared, not 
even large enough to show a sign of where they were hidden.

"Owwww!" Shelby whimpered. "Da! Owww! It feels funny."

"It makes you look like a girl," Matt smirked. "See now you don't have 
your balls. You ain't going to be a man for a few years yet, that's for 
sure. Not with tiny balls like the ones you got," he said teasingly.

"Are they really that small?"

"I just teasin', Shel'."

"It feels funny, Da."

"Well your balls are a whole lot smaller than most boys, I reckon. But 
they'll get bigger sooner or later. Some say the more you play with it the 
bigger they get. So why ain't your's bigger?" Matt joked.

Shelby grinned back at him. "I reckon I don't know."

"Well, let me see that little man of yours," Matt chuckled. 

His work-roughened hand encircled Shelby's erection. he squeezed 
playfully, feeling the delicate organ within his grasp. The hot flesh seemed 
to melt under his fingers. Shelby winced and swallowed. It was a strange 
feeling, both slightly painful and incredible pleasurable at the same time. It 
felt like a part of his body was being squeezed off, like something under 
pressure and ready to explode. He tried to decide which it was. Shelby took 
a deep breath and shifted uncomfortably. His head tilted forward and he looked 
down. His father's hand covered his scrotum and the underside of his penis 
from the base to the rounded knob at the end. It was rapidly becoming a little 
plum-colored dome hidden under a veil of nearly translucent skin. The hand 
interrupted the flow of blood and the skin began to darken. Within a few 
seconds his usually dark-pink glans had become much darker and was quickly 
turning purple with only a hint peeking through the opening in his foreskin

"Your cock is really stiff, son."

"Yeah, I see it, Da."

"It feels like a poker. He's red hot and just as hard as iron."  "It 
feels funny." Shelby trembled and his teeth clenched.

"Is it hurting?" Matt Cassidy asked his son. "I'll stop if it is." He 
was both concerned and excited. He could not look away.

"It feels really funny, Da," the boy murmured. "It doesn't hurt at 
all. I'm gettin' this weird feelin' down there."

"It looks like it could break off it's so darn hard."

"It's okay. My dick feels really weird, Da. It feels like it's going 
to burst any second. It's kinda a nice feeling, like it's squeezin inside me 
too, see. I think it's gettin' it even harder."

"Yeah, I see. I ain't seen one that stiff, son. You got yourself a 
real little boner there."

The boy's penis had hardened to the peak of erection. In the minute that 
his father's hand had held him, his shaft had swollen significantly greater in 
size. Shelby's short, wedge-shaped penis was very unlike the long, thin 
penis of his father. Under other circumstances only the bluish vein on the 
underside would be visible on the boy's erection but now, the surface was 
furrowed with tiny twisting veins. His glans bulged into his foreskin and 
the flared corona formed a distinct ridge in the thin skin.

The penis of the young half-Navajo boy riveted his father's attention. 
It seemed to jerk slightly as Shelby's heart pounded. Blood pulsed through him 
and it danced alive and excited as if it was hungry for affection. Matt's 
penis stiffened in response, growing tighter under his faded jeans until he 
had to shift it to a more comfortable position.

"You're getting a stiffie too, ain't you Da," the boy breathed 
anxiously.

Matt Cassidy's hand seemed to move involuntarily. If he had any 
control over its movement he was unaware of it. His fingers relaxed on the 
boy's penis and began to caress gently. There was a small, barely audible sigh 
as his fingers brushed the hot silky flesh. This time his fingers closed and 
pushed downward firmly. Despite the engorgement of the organ, the foreskin 
retracted easily and the tiny scarlet-bulbed head of the boy's penis popped 
into the afternoon sun. Below the glans, traces of white excretion of juvenile 
smegma gathered in the inward fold of his foreskin. Still a young boy's penis, 
the swollen glans glistened with a thin film of moisture that evaporated in 
the dry air even as they watched. Then it was more like Matt's own 
uncircumcised organ, only much smaller and considerably more sensitive.

Without knowing or caring why, but realizing that it was what Shelby 
needed, Matt Cassidy began to masturbate his eldest son. It took only a few 
strokes on the short, throbbing member before the boy gasped. It was his first 
orgasm and it came without any warning. Shelby yelped as if he had been stung. 
His body arched and became stiff like a curved wooden board. His heels dug 
into the dust and his face contorted in a grimace of unfamiliar euphoria. 
His hips jerked upward and then tried to pull away as his penis spasmed 
briefly and without ejaculation.

"Uhhhhhhh, uhhhhhhh," Shelby whimpered in fear as his body shuddered 
with the passing spasm. "Daaaa, uhhhhh hurts. Somethin's wrong. Somethin' 
broke inside'a me, Da!" 

"It's okay, boy. Just relax!" his father beamed. "All guys get the 
feeling. You're okay! You just came, that's all son. You'll feel better in a 
minute."

"Oh my God! Jesus! What happened, Da?"

"I told ya. You came, you little devil. I don't believe it! I barely 
started rubbing your cock. You must have been real close, Shelby."

"I,... don't understand, Da? What happened?"

"You'll understand in time, son. It didn't feel too bad did it?"

The boy grinned. The short-lived delight he had just experienced was 
beyond his wildest dreams. He felt as if every nerve was tingling, all of them 
focused on three short, very hard inches of his penis and the glowing heat 
that seemed to surround it. It had happened in the space of just a few 
seconds, almost too fast to remember.

"HELL NO! It felt wild. But what happened to me, Da?"

"You know when a stallion mounts one of the mares? You know when he 
shoots his stuff? That's what happened, Shelby, only like I said earlier 
you're young so you ain't got no stuff to shoot, that's all! It's a nice 
feeling ain't it?"

Shelby nodded slowly. His dark eyes flickered with growing interest 
now that the momentary terror had vanished. He remembered only the powerful 
surge from deep within him. 

"Do it again, Da," he asked. A smile started to form at the corners of 
his mouth.

"Do it again?" Matt repeated in surprise.

Shelby nodded eagerly and Matt's fingers again brushed over his tender 
shaft. Unabated from the dry release, it was still throbbing and flexing 
anxiously for greater stimulation, the memory of its previous orgasm providing 
the motivation for yet another climax. The boy's penis had become slightly 
less stiff, but it was a long way from being limp. Shelby smiled weakly and 
lifted his hips upward off the ground. It was an offering that Matt could 
not resist. Again his fingers enveloped his son's small penis. It would be 
easily concealed within three fingers. Two fingers and a thumb were all that 
he used. He began a slow rhythmic stroking, moving his fingers up and down 
so that Shelby's foreskin was drawn back and forth across his sensitive 
bulging glans. It provided more stimulation that the boy was used to. It 
also provided more stimulation than Matt was used to.

Shelby closed his eyes tightly and sighed. "Yeah! That's so good! 
Ohhhh mmmaaaannnn!"

Matt Cassidy felt his heart beat soar until it seemed to drum in his 
ears. His own penis was pulsating, unattended but finding stimulation in the 
constriction of his crotch. For five years since his wife had left him his 
only relief had been from masturbation. He was tired of self-pleasuring. He 
groaned as he felt the familiar sensation of an impending orgasm. His balls 
tightened and his hand began to move faster and faster as it vibrated up and 
down Shelby's penis. For the two of them, father and son, the world had 
stopped.

Shelby groaned loudly and his head dropped back into the dust as his 
legs parted. His knees were far apart, reaching almost to the ground as he 
submitted to the hand that confined his maleness and gave him pleasure that 
was unequaled. Less than a minute passed before the pressure within his 
young body became unbearable. His scuffed shoes dug into the ground again, 
kicking dust as he writhed and jerked. His face was distorted with juvenile 
ecstasy. He orgasmed again. It was dry like the first time and it brought 
little relief to the aroused boy. He groaned and arched upwards as if trying 
to eject something from deep inside his twitching, shuddering body.

This time Matt Cassidy stopped. His heart was thumping as he watched his 
eldest son climax again. The boy was naked except for the jeans bunched at his 
ankles. He was covered in a sheen of sweat and grime and he gasped for air. 
His eyes, wide open at the crescendo, had closed to slits as he blocked out 
the world around him and bathed in his own joy. He was shaking in a wild 
frenzy of confusing sensations, both pain and pleasure uniting to become 
euphoria.

Matt felt his own hot wetness in his underpants and he exhaled. He 
settled back on his haunches as he glanced downward to see whether his copious 
emission managed to leak through the denim. Only a single wet spot showed, a 
trace of the thick fluid that coated his belly and pubic area. He felt good 
albeit surprised that his ache had been satisfied by merely touching the penis 
of a ten-year-old boy, his own half-breed son at that

"You okay, Shelby?" he asked gently.

The boy nodded slightly and his legs lifted up, seeking to surround 
and protect his highly sensitive and very exposed genitals. He winced and 
immediately groaned as his thighs pushed against his hidden testicles. His 
scrotum had become crinkled with a furrow down the center.

"We better not do that again for a while," Matt Cassidy said guiltily.

"Why? Is it wrong?"

"Wrong? I don't reckon it's wrong though there's a lot who would say 
it was. It's yours to do what you want with." For a moment Matt thought 
about his ex-wife. "The smart thing is not to tell anyone. What you do with it 
is your business and no one else's."

"You want I should keep it a secret?" Shelby queried. "Okay! But why not 
for a while?" 

"We sure don't want to make you gay, now do we? Especially now that 
you know what it feels like to come. Even if your little friend cain't spurt 
like a man yet, we better take good care of him so you can make babies when 
the time comes."

He placed his fingers against Shelby's penis and pressed to release 
the captive testicles. Gently he massaged the boy's testicles. They felt pulpy 
and less like the firm eggs he had touched only a few minutes earlier. Perhaps 
that was a side effect of a back-to-back orgasm he mused.

"I still feel funny inside. You don't think I hurt myself, Da?" Shelby 
asked fearfully. 

"Does it hurt?"

"My thing is still tingling and it feels sort of hot, but man, do my 
balls feel sore."

Matt Cassidy shrugged, pulling uncomfortably at the wetness in his 
crotch. The hot joy disappeared quickly and he was left with an itchy 
sensation that was unpleasant to say the least. For a second he considered 
removing his jeans and cleaning himself up. Guiltily he turned back to his 
son.

"I don't reckon you did, Shel'. You'd be the first boy who got hurt 
jerkin' off," he smiled. "It takes a while to get used to the feelin'. 
You'll probably feel great in a while. You'll be fine. I guess it wouldn't 
hurt to leave yourself alone down there for a time, just in case your cock 
starts swelling up or something. I may have been a bit too rough with you. 
It's probably a bit tender, that's all."

"You reckon I could hurt it?" Shelby asked again worriedly.

Matt thought for a moment before he shook his head. "Don't reckon you 
could, son. It ain't goin' to drop off from being played with. Like I said, 
you ain't used to gettin' off and doin' it twice like that so fast probably 
took a lot out of you."

"It only took a few minutes," Shelby murmurred. "I feel really tired 
now."

"Do you know why, son? It drains your strength when it feels good." Matt 
grinned. "I think it takes a few years before you really get used to it. By 
then you'll be shootin' your seed all over the place."

"I still feel funny, Da. Like I want to do it again."

"You still feel a bit horny, I imagine." Matt breathed out. "It's like 
that for a boy. The feelin' doesn't go away quickly, not like it does for a 
man. Once he's shot his load, a man needs a long rest. You've seen Drummer 
after he's been with a mare."

Shelby nodded. "He's real quiet, ain't he. Da?"

"Yes son?"

"The geldings, they don't do it with the mares do they? They aren't even 
interested in tryin' to do it."

"That's right Shel'. They don't and they aren't."

"What,... then,... well what about Shane?"

Matt sighed inwardly. "You shouldn't say anything to him, but it'll 
probably be a lot like that for Shane. After an accident like he had, he won't 
be much interested in sex, I expect. You need to be nice to him Shel'. Don't 
tease him about it or anything."

Shelby nodded, vaguely recollecting the aftermath of his brother's 
injury. He winced, thinking of the implications. "Sometimes he plays with 
it, Da," he said.

"Maybe that's a good sign," Matt answered. "Hell, I don't know what will 
happen to him. I only know the poor little guy's not goin' to make babies 
and all."

Shelby started to pull his jeans up from his ankles. When he reached his 
thighs he stopped as his father's hand moved to rest on his forearm.

"It wouldn't hurt to leave 'em off, Shelby. Ain't no one going to see 
you goin' naked 'cept me and Shane, and we both know what you got there 
already, don't we? It ain't all that much yet, but what there is, is all boy."

The boy smiled slightly. He eased his jeans down his legs to his feet as 
his father came to his knees. Matt leaned over the slender boy and carefully 
tugged the clothing past his son's tattered sneakers. He stood up, carrying 
the pants in his left hand and offering his other hand to the naked boy. 
Shelby gulped as he was lifted up. He tottered for a second as he discovered 
his legs were strangely weakened. He felt as if the strength had been 
drained from his body, as if he had been sick.

His father chuckled. "Don't fall down, son. A cum always takes something 
out of you, especially when it's a good one like you just had. You really look 
droopy, like old Drummer when he's finished with the mares."

Shelby smiled wickedly. "Shoot, Da. I even feel like old Drummer."

"It'll be a few years before you're shootin' sperm instead of blanks. 
Right now you got yourself a dry pecker, but you sure can have yourself some 
fun tryin' to git it to come out." Matt chuckled. "It's a cute little thing, 
Shelby, but don't overdo it."

"You already told me, it ain't going to drop off," Shelby replied. "No 
matter how much I play with it. I reckon I like how it feels, Da."

His father laughed. "That's true. I don't know of no boy whose pecker 
dropped off from playin' with it too much, though I think I might'a come close 
when I was a boy. About your age is the time most boys find out it feels good. 
It's there for you to enjoy. You might as well give it a good workin' out 
whenever you want." He paused for a second or two and noticed the slight smile 
on his son's handsome face. He decided on the spot that Shelby was beyond 
being a very good looking boy. He was beautiful. "There sure ain't no girls up 
here for you to be chasin' with it, now is there? So 'til you git older, all 
you got for fun is your own fist and what's stickin' out between them skinny 
legs of yours. Just remember what I said before."

"I know, it's my business and no one else's," Shelby repeated.

Matt nodded. "It ain't no big secret for a boy to jerk off, but 
there's no point in talkin' about it."

"Some of the guys in the pueblo,... they talk about it,... you know like 
it's dirty to do stuff with it."

"Like I said, it's your dick, Shelby. You decide for yourself what you 
want to do with it. Just keep in mind that they all do it, those boys who 
get the need to anyways. But there's some folks, your mother for one, would 
try to make you stop if they knew 'bout it. Just remember, what they don't 
know about cain't hurt them or you. What you and Shane do up here on the 
mesa oughta stay up here."

"Sure Da! I ain't about to tell 'n neither will Shane. We both know 
how to keep a secret."

Shelby walked cautiously towards the gate, less perturbed by the 
continuing stiffness in his penis than by the weakness in his legs. At any 
moment he felt as if his knees would buckle and he would end up in a heap in 
the dust. As he walked, his confidence returned. There was a warm glow that 
flowed though his drained body. It was a warmth that made him feel good 
inside. It was the same kind of feeling that he had when he lay naked on the 
huge flat rock at Castle Point and basked in the energizing sun. Although 
similar, what he had just experienced was a considerably better than jerking 
off with his little brother. The intensity of his feelings had been 
overwhelming. For a few seconds his mind had known no bounds as the sensations 
coursing through his young groin elevated his pleasure to unrealized heights.

Shelby walked beside his father up to the house. Although the Cassidy 
home was considerably better than a Navajo hogan on the nearby reservation, or 
the iron-covered shacks on the outskirts of Gallup, it still evinced poverty 
because of the peeling paint and thick layer of dust. In that setting, the two 
very attractive brown-skinned boys seemed very much out of place despite the 
fact that it had been their home since the day they were born.

With each step his body seemed to become less tired. He also became more 
aware of the ache in his groin. His erection had not decreased. By the time he 
reached the verandah he was walking normally except for the fact that his 
knees were several inches apart. He often walked that way, bow-legged and 
bone-weary, after he had spent an entire day on the back of a horse. He 
eased carefully onto the bench beside the door and moved his legs apart as far 
as they could go. The stiffness began to fade as his thoughts shifted away 
from what had happened in the corral. In the shade, the glowing heat from 
his small sex organ diminished and it returned to a size that was almost 
normal again. Slowly Shelby began to relax. Although he had not voiced the 
fear, for several minutes he had been frightened that he had been 
permanently injured by an erection that just would not go away. The desire for 
pleasure abated to a dull, ever-present ache to repeat the sensations. It 
served to remind him of how wonderful he had felt only a few minutes earlier.

The screen door squeaked open as Shane came out of the house. Even 
though naked boys were a familiar sight on the Bar-None Ranch, he grinned as 
he saw his brother's lean brown body. Shelby wore only his dirt-covered 
sneakers. But Shane's amusement vanished as he realized that there was another 
reason for his brother's nudity beyond simply 'cooling off'.

"What happened to Shel?" he asked worriedly. "Did he get hurt or 
something, Da?"

Matt Cassidy shrugged, and lied without even thinking about it. "He's 
fine, Shane. He just feels a bit faint. He worked pretty hard today."

Shane's eyes travelled down his brother's familiar body. Although he was 
still to young to understand the full meaning of what had been taken from 
his body, he was still envious. The younger boy shuddered as he remembered the 
searing pain in his groin. It took more than two hours to drive to the 
hospital in Gallup. Two hours of frenzied driving along bumpy roads that had 
shaken his father's pick-up to the point of collapse and tormented him. The 
pain from his crushed testicles had been excruciating until the injection of 
morphine in his right buttock. It had taken several weeks after the stitches 
were out before he got on a horse again. Unlike Shelby, he had been also 
circumcised at no charge, courtesy of a pediatrician in Gallup. It was a 
clean, tight cut and it made a dark ring nearly half of the way down the small 
shaft as the skin was pulled taut and shiny from the stiffness underneath. 
There was very little flexibility between skin and erectile tissue, but 
according to the pediatrician, a tight cut promoted hygiene among seldom 
washed Navajo boys.

"You worked real hard, Shel'," Shane said meekly as he continued to 
stare at Shelby's groin.

"You done all your chores, Shane?" Matt said roughly. He sighed, 
repressing his frustrated anger. He could not change what had happened. "You 
were real unlucky, son. It's a pity what happened to your balls. Maybe if we 
got you to the hospital faster you wouldn't have lost them."

"It don't matter, Da. You tried."

Matt looked at his youngest son. The boy still did not grasp the 
fundamental importance of what he had lost as he lay, drugged and immobile 
in the emergency room. "You would have died, you know, if that dumb-ass doctor 
hadn't done it. He had to 'cause of how bad you were hurt. I didn't want him 
to geld you, but there was no choice."

Matt studied his two sons with affection. They had been through a lot 
together, not the least being Shane's injury, or the time when the bull 
gored him, or when their mother walked out and abandoned them for a Navajo man 
with pretensions of being an artist. And the worst was yet to come. Neither 
boy knew that they were about to loose the ranch in six weeks. That was how 
long he had to make a payment of $45,000 on his long-overdue overdraft.

Again he considered whether he should come right out and tell the boys 
about the problem that confronted him. However, there was nothing they could 
do. There was nothing that anyone could do to save the ranch. Bar-None had 
been in his family since 1836, when the region was first settled, well 
before the Indians were moved onto the reservation. There were even bullet 
holes in the adobe walls behind him from their raids. All told, there were 
twenty-one Cassidys buried in the rise behind the house and fully one-third of 
them had been killed by Navajo braves, a few dispatched and scalped by boys 
not much older than Shelby.

His voice cracked with pent-up emotion. "Come inside and help me get 
dinner, Shane. You stay here, Shel' and take it easy. I'll send your brother 
out with a cold somethin' to drink for you. We gotta get that machine fixed 
real soon. I don't know about you boys, but sometimes I'd even walk all the 
way to Gallup for some ice in my Coke."

"I feel a bit better already, Da," Shelby announced. "I'll go down and 
unsaddle my horse in a bit."

"No you won't, son. You sit here like I told ya' and take it easy. 
I'll do it after dinner. Anyway, tomorrow's Sunday so my two prize cowboys got 
the day off. Your pony'll be fine for a while."



Shelby Cassidy relaxed and relished the special treatment that was 
accorded to him. The drink helped soothe his anxiety and by dinner time he had 
nearly forgotten about the incident in the corral. Although it was 
unnecessary, Shelby stayed naked for the rest of the evening. With dinner 
finished, Matt washed the dishes. As he helped Shane dry, Shelby felt a 
curious excitement from being naked, of knowing that his father's hand had 
enclosed his penis and within a few minutes, had twice produced a sensation 
that had previously been unknown to him. It had been very different to the 
warm surge he had whenever he rubbed himself. Time and time again he caught 
himself thinking about what had occurred in the corral. Each time his penis 
seemed to glow with happiness and he would push the thought from his mind 
quickly before it started to harden. It became a game, thinking and then 
avoiding, then remembering again.

It happened as he lounged on the worn sofa next to his father and 
brother and watched television. That and the satellite dish were the only 
luxuries in the house, but it was the same in most Navajo homes. That night, 
as his father's fingers caressed the satin-smooth skin of his bare back, 
buttocks, and thighs, the boy continued to think about what happened in the 
corral and how nice it felt. Even though he felt the same kind of warm happy 
sensation as he always did when adult fingers stroked his supple, dark skin, 
this time was strangely different. His father avoided the parts of his body 
that were easily aroused, yet his young body still responded as it had never 
done before. No longer able or wanting to avoid being erect, Shelby 
concealed his penis in a gap in the worn cushions. He lay very still and 
enjoyed his father's touch on his bare skin and the hot hardness in his groin. 
More times than he realized, he willed his father's hand to travel further, to 
brush between his firm thighs and caress his plump scrotum and its still-
tender contents, or to dip down into the crevice between his buttocks and dare 
he imagine it, to touch his most private place. Each time he waited and 
hoped as the fingers came close, but never touched.

Afterwards, when the movie had finished and his erection had subsided, 
Shelby went to bed. He lay awake for more than an hour, thinking the same 
thoughts that had plagued him all evening. He listened to Shane's sonorous 
breathing, the small body only a few inches away from his own. It was warm and 
alive and yet unmoving, just as he had been while his father's hand massaged 
and fondled his body on the couch. But unlike Shelby, Shane's small penis 
lay innocently draped on his bare thigh under the sheet.

Again Shelby become erect. His thin fingers brushed against it, tickling 
the tender skin as he explored the length of his short member, encouraging and 
tantalizing the resilient stiffness. He was a fast learner. This time there 
was a pleasant tingling sensation as his fingers rubbed the tip, and he 
followed his father's procedure by easing the foreskin back to expose his 
moist, dark glans. The sensitivity of his penis quickly became almost more 
than he could stand, but the need to continue overwhelmed his need to stop and 
rest. There was no urgency in his deliberate caresses. His masturbation varied 
from gentle strokes to squeezing the bulbous head between one finger and his 
thumb. Before he fell asleep he tried to replicate the weird sensation he 
had experienced earlier by rubbing his penis quickly. He furiously rubbed it 
up and down between two fingers and his thumb until the sensitive organ became 
sore and his wrist ached. He did it exactly as his father had done it in the 
corral, but to no avail. This time there was no orgasm. He fell asleep 
frustrated, feeling more than just a little bit sore and very tired.


CHAPTER 2. BOYS ON CASTLE ROCK.

Matt Cassidy awoke after the boys had been up for almost an hour. A 
couple of beers at night always made him sleep longer and have dreams that 
were better left untold. He remembered masturbating after the boys were in bed 
and sound asleep. He smiled to himself. Shelby might be 'shootin' blanks'. but 
his father was not. His semen-stiffened handkerchief and a jar of vaseline 
without its lid were out of sight on the floor on the far side of the bed. 

He could hear them chattering in the kitchen, their voices barely 
audible over the radio. Judging from the sunlight that penetrated the dusty 
panes of glass in the window, it was an hour after sunrise and he knew that 
they were almost ready to leave for the day. Still sleepy, he pulled his 
underpants on and drew open the floral-patterned curtain that separated his 
domain from the rest of the house. He smiled as soon as he saw his sons. It 
was the same every Sunday. They were both stark naked. Shane was in the 
process of finishing an inexpert application of 'war paint' on his cheeks 
while his brother packed a saddle bag with food and drink. Shelby danced 
around the table, gyrating his hips and pretending to sing to the metallic 
sounds of the Charley Daniel's Band.

In New Mexico, the southern music was out of place, but no less so 
than the boy's antics. Shelby hovered between two cultures, an anomaly of 
country-western music and tribal lore. Matt Cassidy watched his son's small 
buttocks, seeing only the tip of his penis bouncing up and down as the boy 
whirled and pirouetted wildly and sang into an imitation microphone. He 
finished on a grand-nasal note, drawing air into his lungs for a rebel yell 
that echoed through the house.

"Looks like my Navajo braves are off to tame the wilderness, again," 
he observed. "I'm surprised you boys cain't live off the land by now."

"Yep!" Shelby chirped. 

He turned around and his father smiled. The boy's torso, from groin to 
neck was dotted with yellow and red designs and streaked with white paint. 
It contrasted sharply with a dark tan that enhanced his naturally brown 
skin. Like Shane, his face was daubed with paint. His only adornment was a 
carved fetish given to him by his maternal grandfather. The stone figurine, 
a hawk that had been delicately fabricated from red jasper, hung from his neck 
on an ancient leather cord with several downy feathers. This Shelby was a very 
different boy to the young ranch hand of the previous day. He smiled back, not 
the least bit embarrassed about his imitation of a singer.

"White man better be careful or Navajo boys scalp him," he added 
cheekily. 

He grimaced with mock ferocity. A hundred years earlier he would have 
attacked the white man, and with enough luck, killed him on the spot. Matt 
Cassidy laughed. It pleased him to see his sons proud of their Indian 
ancestors. Even in play it served them well as it enlivened their games and 
added a measure of reality. Their nudity was a special bonus for their 
father that morning, just as it was every morning. Side by side they were 
clearly brothers. They were both slender, lithe creatures and they exuded a 
primal naturalness that was entirely appropriate to the way the they lived 
their lives on the mesa. With the nearest civilization more than thirty 
miles away, and the nearest neighbor five miles as the 'crow' went, it was 
fitting that they were savages in play. Only one or two generations earlier, 
the boys would be hunting deer as they grew up. They were wild at times, but 
they were still a long way from being real savages. He teased them anyway. 
He loved the freedom the boys exuded in their primitive state.

"Well you guys take plenty to eat and drink. Where are you off to, Red 
Hawk?"

Matt Cassidy seldom used his son's Indian name, yet today it seemed 
appropriate. The name had been offered by his grandfather, and with his wife's 
insistence that her son be aware of the rich traditions of the Navajo, the 
boy's father had acquiesced. Shelby smiled at his father's concession and 
glanced quickly at his younger brother. He cautioned silence with his eyes.

"I don't know, Da. Maybe over to the bluff, I s'pose."

His father stifled a laugh. 'Like hell', he thought. Shelby and Shane 
would be at Castle Point unless they had yet to find the cave. However, five 
generations of Cassidy boys had found the cave sooner or later, and who 
knows how many hundreds of young Indian boys had been there before them. He 
looked at his eldest son as he patiently waited for the acknowledgment of 
his lie. He waited for only a few short seconds, no longer than normal for 
honesty to win out over deceit.

"Maybe me and Shane will go to Castle, Da. It's fun playing on the rocks 
'n stuff."

"Okay, but remember to watch out for rattlers, guys. It's going to be 
hot out there today and they'll come out early." Matt Cassidy winked at his 
eldest son. "Be careful. You two boys behave yourselves out there. Don't be 
gettin' into too much trouble."

Shelby smirked at he turned to his father and lifted his limp penis 
up, pretending it was stiff again. The gesture was both innocent and 
obscene. Without saying a word he pushed the last things into the bag and 
closed the flap. For the second time that morning Shelby thought about going 
to the barn. Even though the thought scared him, he could barely resist the 
idea of trying to repeat the feelings again. He thought about it again and 
again during the night. He knew that he would do anything to repeat the 
incredible feelings he had experienced the day before. If he had tried to find 
the words to describe the intense delight, he would have been lost for 
words. The sensation had been both terrifying and wonderful as he teetered 
on the brink of orgasm and then crossed the threshold into unknown 
territory. It was a particularly enticing proposition now that he knew there 
would be no permanent injury to his young body if he did try it again. It just 
took time for his erection to go down afterwards and the worst that could 
happen would be that his penis became sore from rubbing too hard. And he would 
try it again, soon. Perhaps even in the cave at Castle Point.

Matt watched the boys as they headed out the door. They had the cutest 
butts he had every seen--small, pinched, and deliciously firm. Twin cheeks 
that begged to be fondled by an adult hand, lovingly caressed by curious 
fingers until inhibition faded and they were able to squeeze into the narrow 
cleft and prepare a hidden orifice for something larger, much larger than a 
finger. He swallowed as he tried to empty his mind. He closed his eyes 
momentarily, but another image filled his mind. He tried to forget even as 
he knew that it could never be forgotten. It was a haunting memory of his 
own boyhood. He was not much older than Shelby, a year at most, when he lost 
his virginity. Matt turned to the kitchen cupboards and began to prepare his 
breakfast, still remembering that warm spring day at Castle Point more than 
twenty years earlier and again thinking about his naked sons. As they closed 
the distance to the barn, he watched Shane kicking dust into the air. It 
drifted slowly down. He remembered being carefree, being innocent and ignorant 
of what a man could do to a boy. It was not that long ago. He would never 
forget what Charro did to him at Castle Point. It was the sort of thing that a 
person always remembered.

Matt had not been there for years and he considered following the two 
boys. They were safe enough now, except for the rattlesnakes and the 
occasional bear that managed to find its way into the cave. And what if Charro 
was there? Was it so bad that his sons would lose their innocence the same way 
that their father had when he was a boy? Charro was a good teacher, patient, 
gentle and taking only what was offered freely. However, he dismissed the 
thought immediately. Charro was an old man now. He was probably too weak to 
climb the cliff up to the mesa, and even if he was able to, he would never 
take advantage of his own grandsons. The boys were safe for the present.

Nonetheless, if the events of the previous day were any indication, it 
would not be long until Shelby would want to have sex. With no other boys 
his own age in the vicinity, and considering the fact that his sons lived 
too far away from Gallup to go to school, it might prove to be an 
interesting situation. As the boys reached the corral, Matt Cassidy smiled 
Unless Shelby began to spend more time with the boys and girls from the 
reservation the most likely sex partner for him was his younger brother. It 
amused Matt to think that for now at least, and until sexual maturity had 
its effect, Shane's penis was nearly as big as his older brother's, a 
situation that might prevail for another two or three years. It would change 
quickly when Shelby started puberty. It was unlikely that Shane's penis 
would become much larger if he did not receive the expensive hormone shots the 
doctor described. He sighed. There was no point in worrying about something he 
could not change. Still, the next few years promised to be interesting, even 
if the boys' natural inclinations were but a temporary diversion before they 
found girls more exciting than each other. He realized then that even if 
they lost the ranch he still had a lot to look forward to.

He watched them through the window as they prepared their horses at 
the corral. Like any other Sunday, they would ride bareback. They cantered 
away from the house, Shelby on his painted horse and Shane on his pony. They 
were still very much like the proud Indian braves who once ruled the wild 
and rugged expanse, he decided. A man could not ask for anything more than 
sons like his own boys.



Shelby and Shane rode for nearly an hour, from one side of the mesa to 
the other. The southern side was very different to the region where their 
house had been built. It was inaccessible from below. It climbed out of the 
plateau abruptly, levelled off on a vast exposed stone ledge and merged into a 
thick scrub of dwarf juniper trees and pinyon pines. The boys left their 
horses near grass and shade and wandered through the scraggy water-starved 
trees. They picked their way carefully, ever aware of the likely hiding places 
of snakes. They walked quietly, carefully placing their feet so as to leave no 
trace of their presence. They were Navajo boys pretending to be warriors 
from a bygone era. At that moment, it did not seem to be all that long ago.

As always, they went to the side of the bluff. This was Flat Rock. It 
was the highest point of the mesa, a long stretch of unbroken stone exposed 
and smoothed by wind over the ages as it rose up the cliff. There was nearly a 
thousand foot drop to the tumbled boulders far below, and there appeared to be 
no way that they could go any further without risking life and limb. 
However, Shelby and his brother had often been to Castle Point. They 
followed the ledge until it was broken by a fissure. It was the only 
interruption to the smooth rock surface for two thousand feet. This was the 
place that Shelby had discovered by himself when he was the same age as his 
brother, the same place his father had discovered as a boy. It was the place 
where Shelby began to truly appreciate his origins. 

They climbed down cautiously, scrambling from one rock to the next and 
sometimes slithering ten feet at a time. Here, it was even more important to 
look before moving. The crevices concealed rattlesnakes, parched and angry 
in the dry, wind-blown heat. The fissure descended for a hundred feet before 
it terminated. In the shadow of the mesa, hidden from view by the huge 
'castle'-shaped rock that had once been part of the mesa, lay their 
destination. The Indian name had long since been forgotten although it had 
been named by each generation of Cassidy boys. For Shelby and Shane, the place 
was simply called 'Cassidy Cave'.

Although they did not understand its purpose they were entranced by 
the cave in the side of the mesa. It had been used by Anastazi Indians for 
initiation rites for over a thousand years. Had an archeologist discovered it, 
it would be carefully excavated, its treasures sent to the Smithsonian, and 
what was left, dedicated as a National Monument. Instead it was a playground 
for two excited and rambunctious boys who had no idea of the value of 
ancient objects and wall paintings. It provided a connection with a time 
long ago when Navajo braves roamed the Southwest and Columbus was still in the 
Old World. The boys entered the cave with caution, listening and smelling 
for the signs of bears. Only one time had the smell been strong and they had 
waited outside until dusk for an old male bear to amble off. However, once 
safely inside, in the cool air, the boys always relaxed, usually pretending 
they had just returned from a hunt or a battle with nearby tribes. Sometimes 
they pretended to be cowboys who lived on the mesa, but not today. Today 
they were Navajo braves, revelling in their naked freedom, dark skins 
painted with tribal markings, inventing rituals as they went that were both 
symbolically religious and naively sexual.

They studied the painted handprints on the smooth, dark walls and low 
ceilings. Barely discernible in the dim light, they found their own small 
prints amongst the outlines whose colors had not faded. These were the 
prints of a dozen unidentified Cassidy boys, their own father's among them. 
But unknown to Shelby and Shane, his was different. Four small fingers were 
intertwined with the larger fingers of a man's hand, both thumbs extended 
perpendicularly to the hands. The hand was Charro's, a shaman of the Navajo. 
The special significance of that unusual print was unknown to the boys as they 
played together. It was a mating print, like the barely visible prints of 
generations of Navajo boys.

They scrapped away the earth and found arrow heads and obsidian knife 
blades, pieces of pottery, and the remnants of tightly woven baskets still 
preserved in the dry air. They carefully placed their treasures on a rock 
ledge. Finally they came to the mouth of the cave and in the dust they began 
to wrestle. Wrestling served to make already strong, young bodies even 
stronger. While Shelby always won, his victory did not disgrace his younger 
brother. It was a game they played, a way of enjoying the touch of the other 
boy's naked flesh without openly embracing and admitting that they enjoyed the 
union. Until a month or two ago it had never been more than that. Then it 
had taken a distinctly erotic role for the older brother. Each time his 
penis quickly became erect and stayed that way until they stopped. For 
Shane, stiffness came slowly and faded quickly. Perhaps it was the result of 
the accident or merely his age. After nearly an hour, they parted breathless 
and exhausted. They collapsed on the dry sand, not touching, shimmering 
brown skin flecked with droplet of sweat and streaked with grime.

Several minutes later they stumbled into the bright sun and lay down 
on a large rock to sunbake. The fight had subdued both boys and Shane yawned 
sleepily as the heat warmed his slender brown back and bare bottom.

"Sure feels nice," Shelby sighed. He grinned as he saw his brother's 
small hand swipe over his buttocks, pausing a second to itch at the sand 
that had penetrated into his crack during the fight. "You got sand in there?"

"Yep, and it sure does itch," the younger boy murmured sleepily. "I 
think some got in my hole." He giggled as his finger wriggled past the taut 
pucker and about a half inch into his sensitive orifice. "Hey Shel', why 
were you actin' so strange yesterday when you came back to the house?"

Shelby's grin widened. "Da told a lie, Shane. I didn'tfaint. That 
ain't what happened to me."

His brother rolled onto his side and looked at him curiously. "But Da 
said,... well what did happen to you?"

"Well,..." Shelby hesitated. Suddenly he was reluctant to tell his 
brother what he had done in the corral. He wasn't ashamed, merely uncertain.

"So what happened, Shelby?" the younger boy demanded.

"Da played with my dick."

"That's dumb, Shelby. I don't believe you. Why would he do somethin' 
like that to you?"

Shelby shrugged nonchalantly. It was the same question that he had tried 
to answer himself. The reason at the time now seemed very inadequate. He was 
unable to explain why his father did it and why he had wanted to do it. It was 
the reason why he was reluctant to tell his brother what really happened.

"Well? I think you're makin' it up."

"I'm not. It felt like, like I was in Heaven. For a while I thought I 
was goin' to die it felt so good. I s'pose he wanted me to feel nice. Hell, 
I don't know, Shane."

"But why would Da do that to you?" Shane persisted.

"I told you already. I don't know. We were messin' around, wrestlin' and 
stuff, and he was ticklin' me, and,... and the next thing, well he done it 
to me."

"Did it feel nice?" Shane asked curiously.

Shelby thought for a moment. He could not honestly say that it felt nice 
even a little bit or a lot, or for that matter, that it did not feel nice. 
It felt  good. It felt unbelievably good. For the short period of two or three 
minutes he had felt more alive and wonderful than ever before.

"Kind of nice, I guess. It wasn't like you think. It felt really 
weird, Shane. At the end it felt like something being squeezed out of me. I 
felt like I was going to explode. It was funny. I didn't want it to stop 
once Da started rubbin' my cock."

"What?"

"You know, like I showed you before. Remember when I told you what Da 
said about jerkin' off?"

Shelby paused as Shane nodded. He smiled secretively as if he knew 
something that his younger brother had yet to learn. He had instructed Shane 
in the art and science of masturbation every Sunday for the last four weeks. 
Like his older sibling, he learned quickly. However, up till the previous 
afternoon, neither boys had progressed beyond the simple pleasure of self 
manipulation.

"You know how good it feels when you play with your dick, Shane?... Well 
it felt a zillion times better than that. I felt like I died and went to 
Heaven. It was like somethin' I never felt before. It was way better than 
jerkin' off by myself!"

"You're makin' it up, Shelby. You gotta be."

"I ain't, Shane. Honest! I never felt so nice down there. It hurt a 
bit afterwards 'cause his hand was rough, only it wasn't that bad. When I 
tried to stand up afterwards I nearly fell down."

"Did he really rub your dick?" Shane asked uncertainly.

His eyes were wide open in disbelief and amazement as Shelby nodded. 
Cassidy boys were raised not to tell lies and Shane already knew the answer to 
his next question before he asked it.

"Why did he lie to me about you fainting?" Shane demanded.

"I reckon he was embarrassed about touching me down there. You know 
playing with my dick and all got him real excited too. He got a boner as well, 
Shane. I could see it stickin' out in his pants. Maybe he thought you'd be 
upset or somethin' if he said what we done."

"But why, Shel'? That's weird!"

"It was sure weird lyin' there," the older boy answered. "It felt really 
cool too. For a while I thought I was really goin' to die, Shane. I thought 
nothin' could feel so good. I tell you, I felt like I was goin' to explode 
into a zillion pieces."

The look on Shane's face was one of confusion. It was the same for his 
brother. There had been a strange thrill as Shelby divulged his secret to 
his brother and for a moment he thought about masturbating again. The boys 
usually did it inside the cave after lunch. It was enjoyable in the silent 
depths of the dark cave. Inside, their excited bodies were obscured by the 
gloom. It always began with playful wrestling. Unlike earlier, after lunch 
it became increasingly intimate until they stopped to catch their breaths. 
Hidden from the rest of the world, they shared an ambiguous and guiltless 
joy that came without inhibition. They were still innocent and immune to the 
artificial morality of civilization. They did what felt good and very natural. 
In the pervading gloom and mystery of the cave they were surrounded by cool 
air and yet they quickly became hot, far hotter than when they wrestled. Now 
lying in the intense light and heat on the great flat rock, the older boy 
vaguely recognized the potential also existed for similar physical 
gratification elsewhere. They did not need to go to the cavern that lay a 
hundred feet above and behind them.

Without warning his memory returned. he was lying on his back in the 
dust, his body straddled, his father's strong hands holding, touching, rubbing 
along his hard, small penis, giving him a mind-shattering and previously 
unknown joy. Shelby sighed, thinking of the building pain and pleasure in 
his crotch. Like a powerful drug, he needed to feel the same way again. He 
tried to blot the insistent demand from his mind. but once it was there, he 
could not reject it. After five minutes of fruitless struggle, he submitted. 

"I've gotta go poop," he said softly to his half-asleep brother.

Shelby stood up and went back to the cave, to the saddle bag he had 
deposited just inside the entrance. In the shade, he rummaged through its 
contents until he found what he wanted. He pulled out a tin that had once held 
chewing tobacco. Inside was neatsfoot oil that was used for everything from 
saddles bridles to sharpening his buck knife. He smiled to himself as he 
realized that it would do what he wanted.

Shelby applied it liberally, beginning just below his penis and 
coating the entire shaft. He smeared some around his scrotum again and again 
as he massaged his small testicles. It was greasy enough to elimate any 
friction and his hand glided easily. Sometime during the last minute his penis 
had begun to stiffen and by the time he had finished he was fully erect. It 
had lengthened, thickened, and lifted up until the nearly three-inch wedge was 
perpendicular to his body. He winced as he forced his foreskin down.The 
rounded knob of his glans was shiny and dark purple in color. He groaned as 
his fingers brushed over the swollen dark tip. There was almost no immediate 
feeling to the gentle touch, yet it excited him incredibly. It felt as good as 
when his father had touched him there. His fingers eased onto his throbbing 
shaft. As he began to masturbate he also realized that it also felt every 
bit as good as the last time.

He groaned again, shaking as the joy expanded into his groin. His 
penis seemed to get even stiffer until it was an inflexible rod of pleasure. 
He felt tears on his cheeks and trembled in shock as he discovered he was 
crying, sobbing drawn out cries of ecstasy as the onset of his juvenile orgasm 
approached. Then suddenly it was upon him and it overwhelmed him as his legs 
buckled under him. He dropped to his knees into the fine red sand on the 
cave floor, still rubbing furiously. Without warning his pelvis bucked madly 
in a vain effort to expel the mystical fluid of manhood. His head bent 
backwards as he gasped for breath. He writhed in ecstasy, oblivious to 
everything except the intense joy that existed in his hand. He barely felt the 
hard rock bump against his head although it would leave a large bruise under 
his long black hair. He groaned again, wanting to keep the wonderful feelings, 
still rubbing on his painfully throbbing penis. His strength ebbed quickly 
until each breath became laborious. He had to stop, but he merely slowed down. 
Twitching spasms of unbearable pleasure now came in waves, ebbing and 
flowing as his body slowly eased down from his self-induced euphoria. Finally, 
he lay down on the dirt, shaking uncontrollably as he continued to fondle 
his still-hard penis. The orgasm faded, yet he was unable to conclude the 
undulating need to merge pain and pleasure into one glorious never-ending 
sensation.

More than ten minutes passed before he regained enough strength to stand 
up. He used a sweat-stained hand towel to wipe the beads of perspiration 
from his face before he wiped the shiny grease from his crotch. Standing 
unsteadily, he examined his now limp penis and dark scrotum. He fingered the 
crinkled skin absently and wondered why his small eggs felt strangely empty. 
It was as if they had been drained. His delicate testicles had been teased for 
more than ten minutes and he squeezed them gently hoping to find the 
familiar sensitivity. While he was not old enough to ejaculate, it was more 
than enough time to temporarily diminish his desire. With relief, Shelby 
observed that his stiffness had disappeared began to return immediately. He 
placed the tin on a ledge in the cave where he could find it the next time 
he needed it. He gently rubbed his aching testicles as he walked unsteadily 
into the light and heat of mid-day new Mexico.

"You took forever," Shane commented sleepily as Shelby's shadow 
covered him. "I thought maybe a rattler bit your butt."

Shelby smiled weakly as he lay down beside the younger boy. "Nah! It 
took one whiff and headed for Utah. I was just lookin' around in the cave," he 
added as an afterthought, as much to allay his brother's curiosity as to 
relieve his guilt. 

He twisted onto his back and closed his eyes tightly. He turned his face 
to the sun and his eyelids turned translucent red as he concentrated his 
thoughts. What he had done only minutes earlier was now forgotten. Like any 
pre-teen boy, sex was quickly forgotten once it was finished. Tiny droplets of 
perspiration formed on his forehead and chest. His breathing slowed as his 
mind drifted aimlessly into another place and time. He dreamed of two hawks, 
soaring in the sublime, cerulean-blue sky of the New Mexican wilderness. 
They plunged to earth, swiftly captured their prey, and returned to a nest 
in the cliff to feed it to their two young chicks. In his ears, the slow 
rhythmic pulsing of his heart became the beat of a drum. He was one with the 
Great Spirit as his penis started to become erect again. There was no need 
to touch himself. It felt hot, like it was on fire. And then the birds 
soared upward again, wheeling through rising thermals, going higher and higher 
into thinner air. For some reason, one of them plummeted to earth. It was dead 
before it struck the dust. Shelby fell into a tenuous sleep, wondering why the 
bird had died.


CHAPTER 3. BOYS FROM THE SKY.

Earlier, a Beechcraft Victor, a twin-engined turbo-prop taxied beside 
the runway of the public airport at El Paso, Texas. Only three of the six 
seats were filled. The pilot and owner was Max Benson, a Mormon businessman on 
his way back to Salt Lake City. The flight path would take the plane twenty 
miles to the east of Gallup on its route north-north-west.

For Max Benson, the trip had been well worthwhile. Not only did he 
have a two hundred thousand dollar contract from Fort Bliss, but the 
evenings spent in the hotel were worth leaving Utah for. His two boys were 
in the seats at the rear of the cabin. The things they had done together, 
and sometimes with him, were more than enough to justify the trip. He adjusted 
the fuel mixture ready for takeoff and turned onto the runway. For the tenth 
time since breakfast he farted loudly and again he cursed his decision to have 
the ranchos hueveras instead of a couple of muffins and coffee.

He heard one of the boys snicker and he burped heavily. His belly 
ached with gas and again he wished he had taken something to settle his 
stomach. He tried to remember the time of his last bowel movement. It had been 
two days ago, before they left Utah and headed south. With radio clearance for 
takeoff, Max Benson opened the throttle and the plane began to move forward. 
It seemed to take a long while to lift off. Perhaps it was due to Max's 
weight. It took a lot to lift two hundred and ninety pounds, but the two 
boys were more than light enough to compensate. Tyler, the youngest, was 
barely thirteen, and Juan was ten months older. Stripped naked and on the 
scales together, they weighed a total of one hundred and eighty-five pounds 
and one hundred of that was Juan. At 2,000 feet (above ground) and 220 
knots, the plane banked and turned northward. There was six hundred miles of 
desert and rugged mountains before they reached Salt Lake City.

After an hour Max Benson began to feel worse, not much worse but 
enough to suggest that he should be on solid ground. He changed course, 
shifting his heading to the north west and towards Gallup. His body seemed hot 
and he sweated, despite the fact that the temperature in the plane was 65 
degrees. He farted again. This time both boys snickered loudly.

"I think something must have crawled in and died in here."

Benson was not sure which boy spoke although from the deeper tone of 
voice he suspected it was Juan. He turned in his seat and looked over his 
shoulder. It came as no surprise to him that the boys were naked. He liked his 
boys naked. There were four rules for his boys--young, skinny, hairless, and 
gay. It did not matter whether they liked to have sex with him. What was far 
more important was that they had sex together. He liked to watch young 
bodies moving together even more than he liked to join in the fun. Nor did 
it did not matter that most boys were usually reluctant to let him watch at 
first. With the right rewards young boys quickly overcame their inhibitions. 
Max was a voyeur and these boys had quickly become exhibitionists. And they 
were shamelessly naked now, just as naked as they had been a few minutes after 
takeoff when he suggested that they 'strip off and have some fun' during the 
trip home. He loosened his tie and fumbled with his belt at his broad midriff.

 His attention returned to his role as pilot. Several minutes passed 
before one of the boys groaned. Max Benson knew that sound in his sleep. He 
turned around again. The boys were now lying on the seat, curled up like two 
spoons with the center armrest lifted out of the way. The boy in front was 
Tyler, but then it was always Tyler. The kid really liked it in his ass, 
Benson had decided two years earlier. Some boys were like that. The sounds 
they made were hard to hear over the steady drone of the engines, but if there 
was any doubt the boys were fucking, the ecstatic smile on Tyler's face 
convinced him otherwise. More than anything, Max loved to watch his two boys 
fuck. For now he would have to settle for hearing the occasional sounds of sex 
and use his imagination to fill in the gaps.

Tyler groaned again as the other boy's thick penis bottomed out in his 
rectum, then quickly pulled back past his barely ripened prostate. Another 
groan followed a wet slurping sound of lubricated flesh as the penis slid home 
again.

"You got some KY back there with you, Juan?" Benson asked curiously. 
He was certain the boys had finished the tube off earlier that morning. He had 
seen it lying in the waste bin beside the bed when the boys went to shower. 
Always cautious, he had wrapped it in newspaper and discarded it outside the 
room.

"No way! Ty don't need any 'cause he's still juiced up from this 
morning, Mr. B. Anyway, he likes some friction. It makes his ass hot."

"What's it matter? His dick sure ain't big enough to hurt me," Tyler 
added cheekily. "And its not like we haven't had some practice at this."

For a moment Max Benson wished that he was thirteen years old again. 
Then, as he remembered his early teenage years, the desire to be young again 
vanished. At thirteen he weighed two hundred and twenty five pounds and he was 
five feet four inches tall. He was as lonely as any grossly overweight boy 
is lonely. Between the ages of thirteen and nineteen he had sex only one 
time and it occurred when he was thirteen. Hal Brant was the boy's name and he 
was as skinny as either of the two boys in the back of the cabin.

At thirteen, Hal Brant was handsome, smooth-skinned, and barely starting 
puberty. He was, however, quite old enough to indulge the fat boy's obscene 
desire in return for help on his homework. The absurdity of sex between them 
was quickly realized as the thin boy clambered onto the soft whale-like body 
and inserted his almost hairless penis between Max's plump cheeks. He 
awkwardly prodded for an opening, eventually found what he was looking for, 
and quickly slid into the welcoming heat within. However, despite the pleasure 
that Hal Brant experienced, his distaste prevented a further occurrence. Fat 
and fun were mutually exclusive, it seemed. With the exception of infrequent 
masturbation sessions, Max Benson's pleas for a repeat performance fell on 
deaf ears. For the next two years after that, Max's fantasies generally were 
of watching Hal with other boys who were as skinny and hairless as his one-
time lover. He watched Hal with his friends at school and often wondered who 
was currently the lucky recipient of his affections--John, Aaron, or even 
Peter who was younger by three years.

Now, Benson heard the two boys slowing down. The muffled sounds of two 
young bodies engaged in mutually satisfying motion became quieter. The outward 
movement of Juan's penis as it withdrew from Tyler's body resulted in wet 
sounds of suction breaking. Max knew that sound well. It happened when Juan 
pulled back so far that his penis was completely outside Tyler's anus. It 
happened when the animalistic fervor faded and the boys became intent on 
delaying the moment of climax. Their goal was to extract the maximum delight 
from their union. Then Juan would use long slow strokes, going all the way 
from outside until he was fully inside, in a single powerful stroke. 
Alternatively, he would concentrate on Tyler's anus, popping the glans of 
his penis in and out until the boy's sphincter muscle was fully relaxed and 
his opening was stretched wide open. It was a game in which he teased the 
sensitive orifice until it ached and the slightest touch provoked an intense 
response from the young recipient. Max loved to watch them do it that way.

If they were careful, the boys could last for an hour or more. Usually 
they did it at night, postponing the inevitability of release until they 
were tired enough to sleep without becoming sexually aroused again until the 
morning. However, if they did it in the morning, they were seldom out of bed 
before midday. Benson smiled to himself. Perhaps the boys could last all the 
way to Salt Lake City. That would make the trip considerably more 
interesting that the rugged terrain they were flying over.

"When you boys finish, I want ya'all to clean up back there. I don't 
want the seats messed up. I'm flying up to Wyomin' next week with a customer," 
he said plaintively, "so don't get no cum or crap on my seat.

There was no answer and Benson shrugged, knowing that he would have to 
sponge the seats himself or get the mechanic to do it. He glanced back at 
the two boys. Tyler's face was the same way it always was when he was 'getting 
it off' with Juan. The kid obviously loved it, Benson acknowledged again to 
himself. He knew the pleasures to be obtained from deep inside Tyler's 
tight, young bottom, even though he had only experienced them himself two or 
three times during the three years that the boy had been living with him in 
Salt Lake City. Tyler had a 'hot' ass and all three of them knew it.

It was a different story with Juan. There were a dozen or more times 
that he had partnered the Mexican boy during the last year. They had sex a few 
times when Tyler was sick with strep-throat, but mostly they did it when 
Juan had the urge to be fucked and Tyler was uninterested. Juan was a good 
fuck, but he paled beside Tyler, Benton mused silently. Tyler had a really hot 
ass.

Benson was appreciative that Juan was not the purely passive partner 
that Tyler was. For one thing, Juan had a much larger penis. It would have 
been wasted had he preferred to be on the receiving end. And Juan was also 
more aggressive, a macho Mexican who took what he wanted. He dominated Tyler 
whenever they were sexually excited and accepted the man's role as his 
birthright, the privilege of discharging his semen inside the other boy's 
rectum. Tyler never complained.

Max Benson heard Tyler's muffled moan of delight and again recognized 
its source immediately even before he looked back. The two boys were 
motionless, but Tyler's face was contorted with untrammeled ecstasy. Juan's 
penis was poking hard into the other boy's prostate, and Tyler was squeezing 
down on it to intensify his own feelings to the point of losing control. 
Sometimes, like that, Tyler would orgasm and his semen would dribble out of 
his penis in a spontaneous release. Sometimes he merely pissed.

Benson waited with bated breath as he stared at the younger boy's limp 
penis partially hidden between his lithe legs. He watched Tyler's body quiver, 
the muscles straining as if trying desperately to excrete something from 
deep within him. The sinews in his slender neck became prominent. His teeth 
were clenched as the pressure for release increased. And then Tyler's mouth 
opened as he gasped for air. Now, unable to control his own depraved 
desires, Max Benson clumsily fumbled with his zipper. It was difficult to open 
even when he was standing. With the fullness of his paunch straining the front 
of his trousers, it was next to impossible.

He struggled with it as he peeked back at the two boys. They were moving 
slowly again, their naked bodies undulating and making soft slapping sounds as 
their flesh came together. He wondered whether Tyler had orgasmed. There was 
no sign of it on the seat. but then Tyler had only been producing seminal 
fluid in any quantity for a matter of several months. So far there was not 
very much, and what there was, had a consistency more like skim milk than 
anything else.

Finally Benson extricated his penis by dragging it through the slit in 
the front of his fifty-six-inch waist boxer shorts. He wrapped his pudgy 
fist around his puny penis and began to masturbate as he gazed back at the two 
naked boys longingly. His penis was slightly bigger than Juan's slowly 
maturing organ, yet it appeared inconsequential below his overhanging belly. 
He was reluctant to ask the boys to come closer. Under normal circumstances, 
he would want them to do it on the seat behind him, or better still resume 
their positions on the co-pilot seat beside him. Usually he wanted them 
close enough to touch, so close that he could caress Tyler's slender arms 
and legs, so close that he could see Juan's penis sliding back and forth in 
Tyler's anus.

When the boys were in bed, he would lie beside them. They had long 
become accustomed to his presence, sometimes they even waited for him to 
join them. Two years ago when Juan's older brother serviced both of them, 
Max Benson was in the same bed. He had watched Tyler lose his virginity. 
Juan's brother was fourteen and he stayed with them until he was almost 
fifteen, until his body was no longer smooth enough to satisfy Benson's 
criteria. By then, his younger brother was big enough to take on the 
responsibility of the man's role and keep Tyler happy.

Now, the two boys were totally uninhibited before Benson. They were 
not perturbed by his closeness, not even when he placed his fingers against 
Tyler's anus and monitored the movement of Juan's penis as it plunged back and 
forth into the tight confines of his rectum, not even when he ejaculated 
over their bodies as they copulated, not even when he peered down into Tyler's 
fully dilated anus and wiped away the over flow of the other boy's semen.

However, even masturbating was difficult for Max Benson. Not because 
of any psychological or philosophical restraint, but because it was physically 
difficult when his arm encountered his massive girth and sought his relatively 
small penis. Still, it was considerably easier than copulating with either 
of the boys. Then, inserting his penis in a small tight rump became an 
almost impossible task, and maintaining a pace sufficient to procure an orgasm 
for himself let alone one of the boys was enough to give him a heart attack. 
Watching made far more sense, Max reasoned, even though the relief he obtained 
by masturbating was minimal at best.

At that moment Max Benson needed relief as much as he had ever needed to 
climax in his entire life. He had forgone his pleasure that morning when the 
boys were in bed. They fucked lustily, romping on the bed like dogs in heat 
while he consumed his breakfast and watched the national news. They had cummed 
twice before they went to shower. Right on cue, he farted again. Again, 
there were more sniggers from the rear of the cabin.

"He's jerking off, man," Tyler whispered.

"'course he's jerkin' himself, Ty. We're fuckin' ain't we?" the other 
boy replied. "He always jerks his dick when I got mine up your ass."

"He ought to be flying the plane instead of pulling on his dick," 
Tyler giggled.

"It's on autopilot, you dope. You want me to do your dick now, Ty?" Juan 
asked. "I'm gittin' close to losin' it in here. I'm goin' to fill you up any 
moment now. My balls are bustin' to get off."

There was no answer and Benson looked over his shoulder again as he 
continued to masturbate. In the last few seconds, Tyler's upper leg had lifted 
up and was perpendicular to his body. In that position, his genitals were 
fully exposed and accessible. It served to accentuate the narrowness of his 
hips and waist and it gave Benson cause to wonder how the lean body could 
accept another male's penis with such apparent ease. Like every other time 
that Juan's penis plundered the young, willing body, Tyler's penis was limp 
and slightly retracted. It looked slightly less than three inches long as it 
dangled down, as big as Hal Brant had been at the same age.

It was a normal-sized penis for a thirteen year old boy who was just far 
enough into puberty to ejaculate, but on Tyler's slender body, it appeared 
disproportionately large. From its outward appearance it seemed ideally suited 
to the task of anal intercourse. However, only in the matter of size was Tyler 
similar to Hal Brant, for Tyler's uncircumcised penis had yet to penetrate 
another boy's bowels. Beginning from the time he had come to Salt Lake City to 
live with Max Benson, Tyler had always been the passive recipient. Even as 
he grew older and stronger, he continued to accept Juan's affection and juices 
without complaint. Now, Juan's hand grasped his smaller sex and began to 
squeeze. Tyler groaned and arched, pulling forward, then slowly pushing back.

 Without turning back to the instruments, Benson continued to watch 
the boys. Their timing had been perfected over the last two years although the 
recently departed ability to continue having sex after orgasm had necessitated 
some slight adjustments for them. Now, when Juan masturbated Tyler, it could 
only be interpreted as meaning that the end was approaching for both of 
them. They quickly lost interest once they ejaculated. With regret, Benson 
realized that the floor show was about to end. He watched as Tyler's penis 
stiffened. If it had ever happened without direct stimulation of its own 
when the boys were having anal sex, he had yet to see it. As usual, Tyler's 
erection occurred slowly. It took several minutes until the nearly four-inch 
penis was rigid because the boy's attention was focused on an infinitely 
more enjoyable pursuit. Juan continued to buck his hips into the resilient 
flesh of Tyler's buttocks as he patiently rubbed the flexible skin along the 
shaft.

Without needing to ascertain the fact directly, Benson knew that Tyler's 
anus was fully dilated. It would be stretched wide open as Juan's penis slid 
back and forth on the slime of lubricant and prior semen deposits that 
seeped down from his rectum. That was the sucking sound that he could hear 
as the boys grunted out their pleasure.

"Something's wrong with your ass, Ty," Juan laughed as his fat cock-head 
pulled free. "You got a great big hole back here."

'There was nothing wrong with Tyler's ass,' Benson thought to himself. 
'Nothing at least that a good hard cock can't fix in a few minutes.'

Tyler groaned and clenched his teeth as his body came dangerously 
close to its peak. Again Benson smirked as he masturbated awkwardly. He had 
seen Tyler stay there for minutes at a time when Juan was in the mood to 
make it last. He hovered at the moment of orgasm, sometimes shrieking in 
ecstasy as the penis pumped directly against his prostate. That was when it 
got messy. The fluids from deep inside Tyler's body would leak out of his 
anus, escaping through the imperfect O-ring seal around Juan's penis.

"Don't make a mess, back there," Max warned.

He knew that his warning would be unheeded. The boys were too far gone 
to worry about a few stains on the cloth seats. He should have insisted that 
they use a towel under Tyler's buttocks, but it was too late for that now. 
This trip, like the last few months in Salt Lake City, was nothing less than a 
rebellion. They were almost too old to be interesting, Benson decided as he 
jerked frantically at his swollen sex. The mutiny, the way the boys openly 
defied him, the nauseating delight that they took in fucking in front him 
while they excluded him from participating, were obvious signs that they 
were turning against him. It was time Juan moved on while Tyler still had 
another year before he needed to be replaced.

"Jesus, you're loose back here," Juan gasped. "Squeeze it in your 
ass," he demanded. "Yeah! That's better. I like a tight fuck-hole! Tighter!"

Benson's breathing suddenly became more difficult and he had to 
concentrate on pulling air into his lungs. Still he did not look away as the 
boys' passion began to accelerate. With the immediacy of orgasm before them, 
Tyler's half-closed eyes opened and he smirked at the fat man with obscene 
lust. The other boy pumped him savagely, rapidly driving his rigid spike in to 
the hilt before jerking back until only the head remained just inside his 
anus. At the same time, he rubbed Tyler's rigid penis mercilessly. Tyler 
moaned again and again, louder and louder as Juan increased his tempo. His 
rectum was very loose and it sucked loudly on the engorged penis as it 
pumped relentlessly. Only a minute or less remained before Juan reached his 
climax, before Tyler's delight was brought to a sudden termination by orgasm.

He would have to make plans for them. They were growing up too fast. 
That was the trouble with boys. Almost as soon as they became interested in 
sex and were old enough to really enjoy it, they started to rebel. They were 
barely teenagers and already there was hair where once they had been smooth 
and sleek. And while the size and capability of pubescent genitals amused him, 
the fact was that pubic hair and pimples repulsed him. Sooner or later they 
would have to leave his house. At most there was six months for Juan, and even 
then he would have to convince him to shave between his legs. Perhaps that 
would not be too difficult given that the boys had already observed Juan's 
brother performing the task every morning until he moved out.

Max Benson twisted back in his seat and breathed out. His breathing 
was increasingly labored as his flatulence became worse. He glanced at the GPS 
monitor and then tried to look at the map of New Mexico. His eyes watered 
and he strained to read the numbers of latitude and longitude. He wondered 
whether he had missed I-40, the freeway that he would follow to Gallup. He had 
not seen the road from Albuquerque. He had not been looking as hard as he 
should have been. In fact, he had not been looking at all for the last few 
minutes. He rubbed his eyes again and his belly cramped. More gas, more 
snickering from behind him. It interrupted their loud moans of joy and the 
noise of wet flesh slapping hard and fast as their young bodies came together.

"FASTER!" Tyler squeaked between gritted teeth. "Do it faster man!"

"I'm goin' as fast as I can, damn it," Juan grunted.

Max Benson heard the smack of naked flesh, a hot and very hard penis 
sloshing in the succulent juiciness of Tyler's rectum as they moved in 
unison towards the peak. He did not need to look back now to know that Tyler's 
hips were jerking back in synchronized response to Juan's desperate lunges. It 
was always the same at the end. The two boys did it so hard that it seemed 
as if one them, Tyler, might be killed from the sheer force of what was 
stabbing into his lower abdomen. The younger boy moaned loudly, shaking wildly 
as he began the rapid buildup to an inevitable climax.

Benson's hands began to shake as his pallor became increasingly pale. He 
wanted to turn around and watch them finish. He wanted to see Tyler's 
expression as Juan's penis exploded and his semen emptied into the boy's tight 
bowels. That wonderful sight, no matter how many thousand times he saw it 
and how old the boys were, still held him enthralled. This time, a hand 
grasped Max Benson's heart and squeezed. The arteries in his neck bulged and 
for one terrible moment, Benton was very frightened.

The ripe flatulence roared out of his bowel. The blast of madid wind 
passed through his trousers and saturated the seat cloth. The foul mess was as 
bad as one the under Tyler's heaving body. The attack passed quickly but his 
body felt even hotter and sweat trickled down his forehead. He turned back 
to the instruments and his eyes could not focus. He heard the boys grunting 
loudly, rutting like two wild animals in orgiastic fervor as their orgasms 
happened. Both ramrod-stiff penises quaked and spasmed at the same time.

"FUCK! I'M DOING IT!" Tyler yelled triumphantly. "OH GOD! Man, I can 
feel you shooting your sperms inside me. Give it to me, Juan!"

"Squeeze it! Ohhhhh! FUUUCK!" Juan groaned. "Squeeze it, Ty! F-U-C-K!"

Now feeling his panic growing stronger as he sensed the fragility of his 
life, Max Benson began to search for a place to land. In his frenzy, he 
ignored the boys' groans and gasps as they basked in the afterglow of 
intercourse. He did not hear the sound of wet flesh pulled apart as Juan's 
limp penis finally came free of its human sheath. He did not hear Tyler's 
quiet moan as the soft organ deep within his body was removed for the third, 
or was it the fourth time that morning.

In the desolate landscape there were few places to land an aeroplane. 
The terrain below was harsh, full of stone and tree-covered mountains. As he 
saw the mesa off the right wing, Benton recognized it as his only chance for 
survival. A part of the mesa was not as uneven as the jagged rocks and trees 
that would tear the plane apart at the moment of impact. He pushed the 
rudder down, banking the plane in a slow turn past the bluff that loomed up 
from the canyon floor. There was a chance they might survive.





 The aeroplane veered away from Castle Point. As the two half-Navajo 
boys looked up, they were momentarily dazzled by the sun. Shane came to his 
feet and pointed at the plane as it completed its turn.

"Look!" he announced. "It's goin' to land, Shel'."

Shelby laughed, as he sat up and gazed around him with exaggerated 
confusion. "Where, Shane?" he taunted.

The plane's sound changed, becoming louder and then backing off as the 
pilot struggled to reduce airspeed. It banked again, increasing its altitude 
in a slow turn that brought it directly over the two boys. Shane waved, 
oblivious to his nudity.

"It's goin' to land, Shel," he repeated excitedly. "See! I told ya'."

The younger boy pointed as the sound of the plane changed again, the 
turbo-props feathering as the plane ran parallel to the edge of the bluff.

"There's no way!" Shelby said with conviction. "Jesus! But you're right, 
Shane. I reckon it's goin' to land up on Flat Rock."

The boys ran across the rock to the chasm that led up to the top of 
the mesa. They scrambled into the narrow cleft, sending a hail of small stones 
slithering after them as they scrambled up. This time there was no caution, no 
careful placement of hands and feet into crevices that might hide a 
rattlesnake as it shielded itself from the hot afternoon sun.

They reached the ledge only moments before the plane touched down. It 
tilted wildly as the breeze lifted over the edge of the bluff. It seemed 
that only inches existed between the tip of the wing and the unyielding 
rock. It straightened out as the engines roared. It bounced as the wheels 
struck, then bounced again, sliding closer to the edge of the bluff and the 
abrupt ending of the ledge. The plane hurtled towards the two naked boys. They 
dropped to the rock and continued to watch with sadistic fascination as the 
plane shuddered violently in the shimmering, hot air. It lurched ever closer 
to the brink and certain death.

One wheel dropped in the fissure and the plane lifted to the side, 
pivoting around the tip of a wing with a terrible screech as a propeller 
disintegrated. For several long seconds it seemed as if the plane would turn 
over completely and side over the edge. The plane dropped down again. It 
stopped, three wheels safely on the ground, its left-hand propeller still 
spinning before it too came to an sudden halt. The noise died and silence 
descended on the mesa. It stopped twenty feet from the two Navajo boys.

Cautiously Shelby approached. He trembled as he climbed on to the wing 
and peered in the window. He jumped back to the ground, tested the door 
handle, and trotted back to his waiting brother.

"There's some people inside, Shane," he said excitedly. "It looks like 
an older guy and two boys, I think. One kid is lyin' up front and there's 
blood all over his face and the guy looks really sick. It's weird, Shane. 
The boys don't have no clothes on."

"Neither do we, Shel'," Shane pointed out.

"Yeah, only we're Indian braves," Shelby stated. "Anyway Shane, you 
better come help me get the door open. It's jammed I reckon."

The cabin door opened as the two boys neared the wing. It swung back 
on its hinges and a boy appeared in the opening. He gazed at the hostile 
landscape and blinked. For several seconds he was unaware of the two naked 
boys standing below him.

"See Shane, I told you both kids was naked," Shelby said pointedly.

His younger brother giggled. His small pink tongue momentarily licked at 
his lips as he observed the boy framed in the doorway. He was crouched with 
his knees apart, and Shane's eyes were riveted to the youth's genitals. 
Strangely, the thick penis glistened as if it was wet or oily, or both.

"He's not a kid," Shane pointed out. "Well he's a lot older than us."

Juan's head shook as if clearing the dullness that persisted to fog 
his brain. He was lucky to be alive and he knew it. While his penis was 
still inside Tyler's rectum, he had been completely unaware of what was 
happening. Then he sensed the urgency of Benson's movements, a garbled sound 
yelled back to them. During the last few seconds as the plane careened 
across the ledge he confronted the prospect of death. At the end, as the plane 
had spun around, he had prayed not to die. It seemed as if the plane was going 
over the cliff.

"Where am I?" Juan demanded.

"What are you guys doing here?" Shelby demanded. "This is the Bar 
None. It's my dad's ranch. You aren't allowed to land here."

"Fuck you!" Juan said groggily. Irrationally and increasingly angry as 
he realized how close to death he had come, he added, "Where the fuck is 
this place?"

"He said a bad word, Shelby," Shane announced.

"I said it's the Bar-None ranch and it's owned by us Cassidys. So you're 
trespassing on PRIVATE property!" Shelby answered proudly.

"That's nice, fuck-head!" Juan groaned as he rubbed his forehead. "Jesus 
my head hurts somethin' awful! Fuck, I'm bleeding too. We could have fuckin' 
died."

"Are you okay?" Shane asked. His eyes had not departed from the 
youth's half-erect penis. It held him entranced. It was almost as big as his 
father's.

"I guess I am.... I hit my head on something.... I reckon Tyler's hurt 
real bad. I think Max is dead."

Slowly Juan moved to lean against the door sill, breathing heavily 
with each deliberate action. Finally he eased himself off, and he stood 
swaying slightly as if the ground was moving underneath his feet. He sagged 
back and rested against the wing.

"Jesus, it hurts," he whimpered as he rubbed his head.

"Why don't you have clothes on?" Shane asked curiously.

"Maybe I was fuckin' before Max crashed the god damn plane," Juan 
snarled. "Why don't you? You're bare-assed too, kid."

Shane shrugged, both unable to comprehend the youth's answer and to find 
a believable explanation for his own nudity. The truth, that they were playing 
'Indians,' suddenly became embarrassing in front of this older boy. The tribal 
markings were boldly visible and he stepped back abashed.

 Shelby clambered up through the door and looked inside. He swallowed as 
he saw the blood that appeared to cover the other boy's face. There was a 
lot more than there had been a few moments earlier when he had looked 
through the window. There was strange smell in the cabin. It was a dank, musty 
smell that was unfamiliar to him. It was not unpleasant, and even though he 
had never been in an aeroplane before, he knew that it did not belong there. 
Had he noticed the dark stain in the middle of the rear seat he might have 
realized more, even if he could not identify its source. However, in the 
heat of the moment it went unnoticed by the usually very observant boy.

He climbed through the disarray of the cabin until he reached the 
front of the plane. Tyler had been thrown forward onto the instrument panel so 
that the lower half of his body was wedged under the controls. Shelby 
touched the naked boy's shoulder. Although the skin was pale and clammy, it 
was not lifeless. It was also very smooth--almost as smooth as his own bronzed 
skin. From head to toe Shelby was dark, not only because of his Indian 
blood, but also because he had been baked, like the rocks on the mesa, by 
the dry, New Mexican sun. He retained the oiled lustre with which he had 
been born. Tyler moaned softly and his head rolled back. His eyelids 
flickered, opening slightly before closing to block out the light. Shelby 
gasped. He had seen blood before and still the sight of the young, bloodied 
face frightened him. The naked boy groaned. Again the eyes flickered open.

"Are you okay?" Shelby asked quickly. "You're bleedin' everywhere."

His laconic drawl had vanished in the immediacy of the moment. Beyond 
the wide, bleeding cut on the boy's forehead there did not appear to be 
other damage. However, the youth was in pain and from his contorted 
position, other injuries, internal and invisible damage to vital organs were 
possible.

"It hurts," Tyler groaned. His fingers absently moved to touch the 
side of his head on the opposite side to the gash.

"Your head? I guess it hurt somethin' awful. It's bleeding pretty bad. 
It's all over you."

Blood streamed steadily down Tyler's face, dripping onto his shoulder 
before trickling across his bare chest. Slowly Tyler's fingers moved towards 
the source of his pain. They touched the vermilion, tangled hair, which only 
minutes earlier had been glistening gold-blond.

"I'm bleeding," Tyler murmured softly. "My head hurts."

"Yeah, I guess so. Your head's a mess. Do you think you can get up if 
I help you?"

Tyler struggled up, gasping for air as his eyes began to water. He 
flopped back in the front seat and breathed heavily. He was unaware that 
Shelby was panting, not as much from the effort of helping to lift him from 
the instrument panel, but what he had seen. For an instant as Shelby had 
glimpsed the other boy's anus. What he saw was unlike anything he had seen 
before. There was nothing in his experience that could account for the dilated 
opening, the wetness that surrounded it, and the weak dribble of milky fluid 
than trickled out onto his scrotum. He swallowed nervously as the obvious 
question arose in his mind.

Tyler slumped back into the seat. The pain in his head was exhausting. 
Then Shelby saw more wetness. Several milky smears streaked the older boy's 
lower belly and groin. His eyes locked onto Tyler's penis, intuitively 
understanding that it was the source of the wetness, while at the same time, 
not understanding how it came to be there. Was this the semen that his 
father had told him about? It was definitely the wrong color and consistency 
to be urine.

He stared with growing fascination. Tyler's limp organ was 
considerably larger than his own diminutive and still-immature member. His 
father had explained that his penis would get larger as he grew up. Older boys 
had bigger dicks, as did those boys his own age who he had seen undressed. 
He knew from the Indian boys on the reservation, that it was important to have 
a big one and he instinctively realized that he did not. For the second time 
in his life, he sensed a strange attraction to the maleness displayed before 
him and he felt envious.

"What happened to your butt?" Shelby asked curiously. Though his view 
was obscured, he saw enough. Between the boy's outstretched legs was a sight 
that both disturbed him and fascinated him. "Your butt-hole looks really 
weird." Although Tyler ignored the comment, Shelby was not distracted. "Wet 
stuff that looks kinda like milk or somethin' like that is comin' out of you."

"It's cum, you dope. Jesus! Don't you know anything?" Tyler grunted.

"Huh?"

But Shelby's instinctive curiosity was terminated as the man in the 
other seat suddenly quaked and gave a low groan. He twisted back and watched 
in disgust as the man vomited over his exposed, hair-covered sex organs. 
Instantly, the foul sickly-sweet odor filled the cabin. Benton continued to 
cough, choking on his own bile as he continued to retch. He disgorged over the 
cockpit instruments, spraying his spew onto the two naked boys as they 
shrank away. Shelby felt his stomach turn as yellow droplets splattered his 
thighs and groin. He gagged and quickly brought his hand to his mouth as he 
squirmed against the boy beside him to get out of the way. Finally Benton 
pitched forward and sagged against the joy-stick. His face was deathly grey.

"What's happening in there?" Shane called loudly through the open door.

"The old guy, he's barfing. It's gross! There's upchuck all over."

Shelby stumbled to his feet, nauseated at the revolting smell and the 
spots that flecked his brown skin. He gripped the youth's arms and dragged him 
up. With difficulty, with his arm around the bare shoulders, they staggered 
towards the cabin door before they sickened.

"Shit! Tyler, are you okay?" Juan asked fearfully as he observed the 
bloodied, once handsome face of the boy who was his best friend and, only 
minutes earlier, his thirteen-year-old lover.

Juan was repulsed as Tyler, naked and distraught, slipped to the 
ground and sprawled in a bewildered army of blood-bedaubed limbs. Only minutes 
earlier his penis had been contained in the beautiful young body, plunging 
into the tight tube of his rectum as they humped ecstatically to mutual 
orgasms. And now, Tyler was injured and in terrible pain, perhaps near 
death. Juan was unprepared for Tyler's slurring vilification.

"Of course I'm not okay. My head is killing me. Why did you have to take 
my fucking seat belt off, ass-hole!"

"I'm sorry, Ty! God, I'm sorry!" Juan begged. "I didn't want you to 
get hurt. We couldn't do it with your belt on, you know that. Why did he 
have to go and crash the god-damned plane?"

Shelby shook his head in disbelief and glared down at his own besmirched 
body. There were smears of blood all over him, as well as the stains of the 
man's vomit that soiled him. All in all, it was not turning out to be a good 
day!

"I better go get my dad," he said uncertainly. "He'll know what to do." 

He twisted around to face his younger brother. Shane shivered, 
instinctively realizing that he would be left alone with the two strangers 
if Shelby went for help. His brother would be gone for much more than an 
hour and the prospect was frightening. Unlike Shelby who had slowly become 
diffident to meeting people, Shane had responded to the lonely life on the 
mesa by becoming shy with strangers, often to the point of running away and 
hiding whenever a visit to Gallup was scheduled.

"I won't be gone all that long," Shelby said gently to Shane. 

His brother shook his head quickly and shuffled his feet skittishly. For 
some reason Shelby was reminded of the nervous colt of the previous afternoon. 
He remembered how it tried to bolt just before his father put the rubber 
band over its scrotum. He stepped toward Shane and spoke rapidly to him in 
their mother's tongue. Shane trembled visibly, but nodded his understanding 
unhappily. A minute later Shelby was on his painted horse and riding hard. 
He was motivated less by the need to secure assistance for the strangers 
than he was by his desire to get back to Shane as quickly as possible.

As it was, he need not have panicked. Tyler and Shane had established 
a tentative friendship by the time he returned. He was gone not much more than 
thirty minutes, meeting his father along the way. He heard the roar of the 
eight cylinder engine as he descended into the gorge that divided the mesa 
into two. As he approached the side of a large boulder Shelby heard the loud 
clash of gears and quickly moved his horse to the side as his father's pick-up 
careened along the track. 

Leaning down from his horse, Shelby explained the situation rapidly. 
He shifted between English and Navajo as he often did when he was excited. 
Matt's response was immediate. Although the story seemed farfetched, a plane 
landing on the rock ledge at Castle Point, he had no doubts of Shelby's 
veracity. The number of times that the boy had lied to him could be counted on 
the fingers of one hand. They turned Shelby's gelding loose to find its own 
way home and climbed aboard the truck. The route back to the plane crash was 
circuitous compared to the way that Shelby had come on horseback. Even four-
wheel drive trucks and Matt's experienced driving could not go where horse and 
Navajo boy had traversed.

By the time they arrived at Castle Point, Shane had almost managed to 
staunch the flow of blood from the deep gash in Tyler's head. He had moved the 
weakened youth into the shade of a pinyon pine, climbed down to the cave and 
recovered the backpack, bandaged the wound, and even given the older boy water 
to drink. In return, Tyler treated the younger boy as his savior, ignoring 
Juan. Matt took control and organized the boys to assist him in getting the 
corpulent body out of the plane. He suspected the worst at first, a heart 
attack or a stroke, however as the minutes passed and the deathly grey 
pallor faded he began to think that the fat man might survive.

The heat increased in the late afternoon. It was a long drive back to 
the house and they crawled along as each bump elicited a painful groan from 
the man in the back of the pickup. Again and again foul air burst from his 
bowels and the boys turned away in disgust and sought fresh breaths. The 
stench of Benson's soiled clothes was enough to make the boys sick. Finally 
they pulled up in a cloud of dust outside the house.


CHAPTER 4. BOYS IN THE BARN.

They entered the ramshackle abode with two boys abreast at each of the 
porcine legs, with Matt lifting the flabby arms. They barely managed to fit 
through the doorway. Benson's obesity became soft, almost unmanageable bulk. 
Having never seen a whale, not even cognizant of the meaning, Juan's jokes 
about 'old blubber belly' bypassed the lean Navajo boys. Bed springs and metal 
frame creaked in protest as they deposited the heavy load on Matt's ancient 
bed. They returned to the main room that served as kitchen, dining and 
living room, with the boys' alcove to the side. Shelby's father was 
querulous as he carefully bathed and dressed Tyler's cuts, snapping at his 
son's offer to help. Shelby felt distanced. The attention his father paid to 
the youth was depressing. The room was filled with oppressive moods, as much 
from a despondent Shelby, as from two other boys who wanted to be far away 
from the desolate dwelling with its dreary ancient furnishings.

Dinner started as a joyless meal. Two Navajo boys who were normally 
bubbling with hunger and happiness, were melancholy. Both Shelby and Shane 
resented the intrusion into their lives. However, the somber air faded 
gradually as night approached. Tyler and Juan began to relax and accept 
their temporary predicament with unexpected grace. One story followed another, 
each funnier than the preceding one as they talked about life in the 'big 
city' of Salt Lake. While Shelby and Shane had never met a Mormon, the 
perverse details of Mormon life quickly had them in hysterics. Indeed, 
Shelby and Shane had travelled no further than Albuquerque, had never been 
in an aeroplane, had never swum in a lake that was so salty a person could not 
drink the water. Boy-laughter filled the room and echoed off the pitted 
adobe walls. They devoured spicy fried chicken, thick brown beans, slabs of 
rich tomatoes, washed down with orange pop. All but the orange pop had come 
from the ranch.

Three chairs and two wooden boxes that served as makeshift chairs 
scraped loudly on the pine boards as the meal was concluded. Washing up, a 
thankless and difficult task with only Tyler warm water, fell to Shane. It was 
his turn to clean up. With relief, Shelby went outside. He was followed by 
Juan. The anger that he had felt earlier towards Tyler and Juan had 
vanished. Suddenly the bigger, older boys were friends and with the affected 
envy of any younger child, raised in stature. For Shelby, deprived for so long 
from the company of other boys, the visitors were subjected to juvenile 
idolatry. He worshipped Juan. Juan was everything that he was not.

On the high elevations, the temperature always fell quickly as the sun 
set. The final golden rays still touched the crown of the mesa and left long 
shadows from the wizened, black trees. A cool wind filtered across the sandy 
ground, carrying with it the scent of manure from the farm animals, the 
aroma of pinyon pine, and the acrid smell of dry dust. Shelby scuffed his bare 
feet in the sand. Fine particles of grit flowed between his toes. It had not 
been this dry for several years, and while the parched earth gave little 
nourishment to plants and animals, it produced spectacular sunsets. 

Not for the first time since they had returned from Castle Point, Shelby 
felt both irritable and awkward in the company of older boys. Their presence 
on his turf was enough to make him openly antagonistic. Had he tried, or 
been able to describe the feeling, he may have accounted for his reaction 
merely as the result of youth and inexperience and a natural instinct to 
protect what little he possessed. He trembled at every moment when he was 
close to either boy, but his feelings verged on nervous anticipation when he 
was near Juan. While he sensed something was happening, the space between them 
charged with tension. He was at a loss either to explain it or to understand 
its significance. Suffice it to say, the normally effervescent boy was high-
strung that evening. The change did not go unnoticed by his father. He quickly 
realized that despite his laconic speech, this was very a different Shelby 
Cassidy. The presence of the other boys, and in particular the oldest boy 
Juan, clearly agitated his son. Unlike Shelby, Matt could explain why. It 
was the same effect that Tyler had on him.

Beginning from the time the five of them struggled into the house with 
the limp, corpulent body of Max Benson, Shelby was alarmed. Few people had 
been into his domain, and the only boys had been Navajo children like himself. 
These two older boys disturbed him. They glanced around as if dismissing the 
squalid existence of the Cassidy family as something that was below their 
dignity. However, it was more than mere looks of deprecation. The 
trespassers in Shelby's home were sleek, sexually mature youths, and they 
had invaded his territory. At Castle Point, Shelby had immediately observed 
that they were more like his father that boys like himself. In fact, Juan's 
sexual development was so advanced that to Shelby's eyes, he was already a 
man. He was fascinated with their groin hair, though one boy had 
considerably more than the other. More than that, both had long penises and 
fat pouches, again one boy being much better endowed than his friend. Shelby 
experienced the first pangs of inadequacy and jealousy as he risked sideways 
glances with frightening regularity. His own small appendage seemed to be 
diminished in importance beside the bigger boys. They were not men like his 
father, but they certainly were not prepubescent boys like Shelby and his 
brother. There was a stark contrast between Juan's thick penis and his 
brother's thin finger of manhood, and Shelby did not need to examine himself 
to know that he was only slightly larger than his younger sibling. And even 
latter on, when the two strangers finally covered up their nakedness, he was 
disturbed. Then he was exposed to their examination and their casual 
disinterest in his young body was both distressing and threatening. At the 
same time, he could not explain why he so badly wanted to further his study of 
the older boys. His curiosity made his small heart beat rapidly and he began 
to feel a pleasant warmth in his crotch as he studied them until he had to 
move away for fear of them seeing the small penis that began to stiffen 
between his legs. 

 As soon as he was away from his father and younger brother, Shelby 
breathed a long sigh of relief. Without reason, he wanted Juan to like him. 
They walked down to the barn silently. Constantly throughout the evening 
meal the boys had glanced at each other, silently discovering that they shared 
something in common. Neither boy realized exactly what it was. Juan first 
sensed the attraction, for there was an attraction between them. A magnetism 
seemed to draw them together until it ignited a friendship that became 
stronger as they talked. While under other circumstances a nearly fourteen-
year-old youth and a ten-year-old boy would have little in common, the 
unique differences between them now became common ground.

As Shelby found the older boy's maturity and worldly experience of vital 
interest, so Juan was very appreciative of the younger boy's physical 
prowess and deeply rooted knowledge of the desert wilderness that he had 
suddenly become a part of. However, the attraction between them was based less 
on differences in background and experiences than it was on physical and 
emotional factors. Simply, their attraction was sexual. Had Shelby been 
older he would have realized that his interest in Juan, and the fact that 
the older boy also liked him stemmed from the one of the vagaries of nature--
they were boys who were naturally attracted to their own sex. But such 
peculiarities of human sexuality required an innate understanding that the 
younger boy did not possess, at least not yet. And while Juan had known that 
he was gay since the age of eleven, it was irrational to him that a boy of 
Shelby's tender years was similarly so inclined. That Shelby was physically 
desirable was something that he did understand, although how he could broach 
the subject of sex with an obviously inexperienced young boy was something 
he was uncertain of.

Nonetheless, as they approached the barn, Juan began to realize that 
there was a surprising sensuality to the half-Navajo boy walking beside him. 
Perhaps it was the lightness with which his feet touched the ground, the 
casual ease with which his lithe body moved, or his ready grin and high-
pitched laugh from a voice still unbroken. The dark-skinned boy excited him. 
It was the same excitement that Juan felt with Tyler, only stronger, and it 
surprised him for he had not expected a ten-year-old boy to have that effect 
on him. Similarly, Shelby felt content in the company of the older boy and 
basked in his very presence with deep-seated enjoyment. For a few minutes, 
as they ambled to the barn, their interest in each other was unspoken, yet 
it did not go unacknowledged. 

They paused by the corral and Shelby climbed up onto the rails, his feet 
on the bottom rough-split timber. Now his face was at the same height as 
Juan's and he looked into the youth's steady eyes. They smiled at each 
other. The last golden rays of the setting sun stretched over the mesa. 
Already the valley floor was in deep shadow and the trees were black 
silhouettes against the red streaked sky. Sunset on the mesa was awe-inspiring 
and its majesty was not lost on Juan. In the city, the sun still set, but it 
did so without drama. 

"Man that's beautiful," Juan breathed out. "The colors are incredible."

Shelby nodded and glanced back over his shoulder. He was used to the 
powerful conclusion that came at the end of each day. He often came out to 
watch the sunset. Usually he came alone, sometimes even walking to the edge of 
the mesa to gaze down into the black void below. Those times made him feel one 
with the world, as if existence was defined by the mesa and there was 
nothing beyond. He enjoyed being by himself at those times. It made each day 
memorable. This day was no different except that his self-imposed solitude was 
replaced by a desire to be friends with the teenager standing before him and 
to share his nightly ritual.

"Yeah," he said softly, "It's like this most times. I guess it's why I 
like comin' out here."

Juan turned away and studied the broad expanse of the mesa behind him 
and then the darkness that encroached from below. The immensity of it was 
overwhelming. Many miles to the north another flat-topped mesa loomed up 
from the valley floor. A jagged black line of a canyon formed in prehistoric 
times zigzagged into the horizon. 

"It sure is lonely up here," Juan said in awe. "What do you guys do 
for fun at night when you ain't got a mall to hang out at? You go down to 
the reservation and play the slot machines or somethin'?"

Shelby laughed. "They don't have gamblin' here. Our tribal elders 
won't allow it. Anyway it would take most of the night just to get there. 
Once, we went down the mesa at night 'cause we had to. My dad says it's way 
too dangerous. Even in the daytime, the road is pretty scary. After it rains 
he sometimes makes me and Shane walk part of the way down behind the pick-
up. I guess he's worried it might go over the edge. It's real steep in some 
places and the rocks slip all over the road. There's a real bad part where 
it goes straight down for a thousand feet. It's pretty scary ridin' down in 
the truck." 

He took a deep long breath and wondered why he wanted to bare his soul 
to the boy beside him. They had known each other only a matter of hours and 
already it seemed more like days or weeks.

"Usually me and Shane watch tv at night or play games with our dad," 
he added as an afterthought. For a moment he considered telling Juan about the 
nightly backrubs. He decided against it. It would make him sound like a little 
kid.

"You got cable up here? I didn't see no satellite dish."

Shelby smirked. He sometimes watched cable tv in the recreation center 
on the reservation. They had a huge dish. He shook his head. "Nope! We get can 
usually get a channel from Gallup. Sometimes if the weather is right we can 
even get shows from Albuquerque. The picture can be kinda fuzzy, but the sound 
is usually okay."

"Wow," Juan said snidely. "Life is good then, huh?" 

Shelby shrugged. "It's okay." He felt a strange awkwardness as the boy 
smiled. His face was only about a foot away and his eyes stared directly 
into Shelby's. 

"No girls either," Juan said teasingly. "So what do you do for fun. Play 
with the dog?"

Again Shelby shrugged. Girls held no interest for him and the obscure 
reference to the dog was lost on him. It was not that he was still several 
years away from starting puberty and the onset of sexual fascination with 
the opposite sex. The Cassidy boys and their father had lived on the mesa 
without the company of women for five years. The part of him that might have 
needed female company had withered and died, if it ever existed. Like the 
scrubby trees on the bluff, without water and nourishment they either died 
or became so shrivelled that they might as well be dead. And yet the word 
'fun' haunted him. Was 'fun' the same as playing with his penis? That was 
certainly fun. It was as much fun as getting his nightly backrub, the 
playful swats on his bare buttocks, the tickling of every inch of his naked 
body before he fell asleep, the friendly teasing about his morning erections.

"Who needs girls?" Shelby answered obscurely. He intended the comment to 
sound as if girls were boring. It did not come out quite the way it was 
supposed to.

Juan laughed. Again their eyes met. He felt his penis start to harden. 
The half-Indian boy grinned back at him and flashed his white teeth, naively 
unaware of the effect that his last three words had on the easily excited 
teenager. However, the mere proximity of the older boy and his apparent 
happiness had a similar effect on Shelby's undeveloped penis. His erection 
came almost instantly while the older boy's penis stiffened slowly until it 
bulged uncomfortably into his tight black jeans.

"Yeah, who needs girls,... when there's two boys," Juan announced. He 
glanced down, as much to ascertain the extent of his own projection as to 
validate that what he suspected was also present between Shelby's slender 
legs. "You got a boner and so do I," he smirked. "Two boys who both got hard-
on,.... so who needs girls, right?"

Shelby smiled back. The vague reference to sex was not missed this time. 
Juan's open acknowledgment of his erection did not bother him. His own 
father was similarly open minded about protruding penises, and juvenile 
crudities such as 'not pointing a loaded gun' tended to remove any inhibitions 
his sons had inherited from their mother. Having a boner was a fundamental 
part of being a boy and normal in a household of three males so Shelby was 
justifiably proud of his stiffness.

"You want to go somewhere?" Juan asked slyly, pausing for a moment to 
gauge Shelby's interest. His eyebrows raised meaningfully. "Somewhere real 
private."

Shelby nodded slightly. He was no longer afraid and lacking in self 
confidence. The need for privacy was something he barely understood. He 
instinctively grasped its purpose was related to sex, to what he did with 
Shane in the secluded darkness of a cavern at Castle Rock, or under the 
blankets in his bed. Having sex with other boys was a rite of passage for 
Navajo youths, a ritual that made the older boys from the reservation 
abandon boys of Shelby's age and younger, and disappear for long hours at a 
time. With accelerating excitement Shelby slid down from the fence and stood 
before the older boy. Now, the top of his head was at Juan's shoulder. 
Silently he turned and led the way into the barn with Juan close behind him. 
He knew where to go to be alone. It was the same place his father went when he 
needed privacy from his two sons, the same place where he had discovered his 
father masturbating.

They climbed into the loft, away from the chickens and the farm tools. 
Among the sweet smelling hay bales, there was more than enough privacy for two 
boys to enjoy themselves in any fashion they wished. They would also have time 
to rearrange their clothing if anyone came down from the house looking for 
them.

"Let's get our jeans off and lie down," Juan suggested as soon as both 
of them had climbed the ladder.

Shelby shivered. Out of the cooling breeze of evening, in the dry 
still air of the barn, he was anything but cold. He felt strangely chilled 
although his body felt feverish with excitement. There was gooseflesh on his 
arms. He glanced around as if seeing the loft for the first time. It was on 
the hay in the far corner where he had observed his father, his roughed hand 
clasping his reddened penis, rubbing furiously. Every one 'jerked off', his 
father later reassured him. Man or boy, it made no difference, a 'guy's dick 
needed it sometimes' and it was about time he 'learned how to do it for 
himself'. Without even wondering why he did so, beyond knowing it would be 
fun, Shelby nodded in assent.

Juan grinned. He wanted this boy unlike he had wanted anyone else, 
even Tyler. His heart was pounding, his penis throbbing in anticipation of 
seeing the young boy nude again, and without the stress of a plane crash and a 
near-death experience. Juan was intensely aroused by the opportunity for 
sexual contact with a ten-year-old boy. 

"You scared?" he asked. Shelby's head moved in denial. Juan grinned 
again. "Don't be. I'll go first okay, then you. There's nothing to be afraid 
of. We're both guys and we both got boners, don't we?" 

His voice quivered with excitement as he stepped forward. One hand moved 
slowly towards his waist and fumbled to find the start of his zipper. Shelby's 
eyes were fixed on the older boy's crotch. The bulge seemed to grow in size 
with every passing second. His excitement was so intense that it was 
disturbing. Even breathing was difficult and his heart labored to meet the 
frantic rate demanded of it. Shelby felt his own small penis begin to 
straighten out and grow in size again until it stretched into his 
underpants. Then he could feel it becoming rigid, until it was much stiffer 
than it had been a few minutes earlier when they had been beside the corral. 
It was as hard as it had been when his father touched him.

He risked a quick glance downwards to ascertain whether the hot hardness 
that existed in the private world behind the well-worn denim of his jeans 
was visible to the older boy. When he looked upwards, Juan was smiling. They 
both knew what he had seen in the gloom. It stuck out visibly despite its 
small size and the fading light of early evening.

"We both got hard-ons, Shelby," he teased. "It sure ain't nothin' to 
be ashamed off 'cause we both got boners. You know why it's stiff, don't you?"

"Uh,..." Shelby muttered self-consciously as he glanced down to continue 
looking at Juan's crotch. The zipper was open now but other than the open slot 
he could see nothing of interest. "I guess so. My dad says guys get them all 
the time. He said its normal for it to get hard like this."

Juan smirked knowingly as he slowly unfastened the copper button at 
his waist. "It's normal for a guy to get a stiff dick when he wants to mess 
'round with another guy. That's why your dick is so hard. And mine's real 
stiff as well. Now we both know why we got hard-on don't we, Shelby?"

"Er, yeah,... I guess so." Shelby trembled. Slowly he looked up to 
meet Juan's eyes. "I suppose." 

"Mine gets real big when it's stiff." Juan's voice was soft and 
strangely husky. His dark eyes seemed to imprison the younger boy. "It's 
real big now. It's especially big for you, Shelby." He paused and glanced down 
to Shelby's crotch and quietly added. "Your's is only a little one compared to 
mine, but its real hard for me, ain't it?"

Shelby reddened slightly under his light-ochre cheeks. It was as close 
to blushing as a Navajo boy came. For a moment he contemplated denial, but the 
very obviousness of his erection precluded his assertion that he was not 
sexually aroused by the youth who stood only a foot or two away from him. He 
swallowed dryly. The fact that he was excited by the prospect of sex with 
another boy, an older boy nearly a man, at least five years his senior, did 
not perturb him. It was a rite of passage he would soon face on the 
reservation. It was only a matter of time, perhaps even this summer, before 
one of the older boys lured him into an arroyo and taught him what he needed 
to know. Having grown up on the mesa, surrounded by the constant struggle of 
animals to survive and multiply, he accepted sex as naturally as a city boy 
would accept crossing the street. That his partner was another male merely 
made the physical act more accessible, and although he had no basis for 
comparison, also very agreeable to him.

"You want to mess around don't you?" Juan asked softly. His fingers 
fumbled with the metal button, waiting for the younger boy's answer before 
he continued to undress. The confused look on Shelby's face prompted him to 
continue. "You know, mess around, do stuff?"

"Stuff?" Shelby asked uncertainly.

"You know, get ya rocks off. Stuff like messing around with each other's 
dicks. You do it with your friends, don't you? I know you do. Hell, all boys 
do it. Even at your age you need to get off sometimes I bet."

Shelby's head moved slightly. He had seen other boys naked when they 
went swimming on the reservation, but nothing had happened to him beyond 
risking casual glances at the hair-covered crotches of older boys who 
interested him so much.

"With your brother, then?" Juan asked unabated. He smirked knowingly. 
"You play with his dick, don't you? And he plays with yours? I reckon that's 
right. My brother started jerking me off years ago, when I was about Shane's 
age and didn't know shit."

Shelby nodded shyly. "Sometimes," He admitted. 

He paused, equivocating. Suddenly nervous, his eyes were fixed as Juan 
pushed his jeans and underpants down. He was unprepared for what he saw 
next. The youth's penis sprang into view, thick and fully extended, its 
large size frightening when compared to the boy's small member, so obviously 
immature.

"Pretty big huh?" Juan teased. "You like it, don't you, Shelby? You 
can touch it if you want."

Shelby took a quick breath and stalled, wondering whether he should tell 
the truth. He shrugged and reached out, following a natural impulse. His 
decision was predetermined, existing from the time of his conception. He was 
not prepared for the other's heat. His hand jerked back as if he had placed it 
in the fire. He had barely touched Juan's massive organ and he was 
subjugated to its bulging power, entranced by its seeming manhood if only 
because the other boy's penis was so much larger than his own. He glanced up 
and saw an encouraging smile, somber dark eyes like a kindred spirit. He 
felt a sudden lurch inside him as his heart began to beat even faster. His had 
seen his father naked, and erect so often that the just the sight of another 
male should not have had the effect it did. Occasionally his father's 
stiffness promoted a similar state in the youngster, but it had never been 
so arousing. And while his father's hand had sometimes strayed to fondle his 
boy-part, he had never actually touched his father's massive organ.

"It's so hot," Shelby murmured. "Why is it wet at the end? It doesn't 
look like pee," he added curiously.

"Don't you know, kid? It's not piss that's for sure," Juan smirked. 
His penis jerked up of its own accord and pointed at Shelby's crotch as if 
ready to joust. He relented. "It's pre-cum, you idiot."

"Pre-what?"

"It's like cum, jizz, you know what that is don't you? Only pre-cum 
leaks out of your cock before you shoot the real thing."

From the confused look on Shelby's face there was no doubt that he did 
not grasp the meaning of Juan's explanation. 'Pre-cum, cum, and jizz' were 
like the words of a foreign language. 

"Can I touch it again?" Shelby asked awkwardly, no longer willing to 
continue to display his ignorance.

Juan's hand moved under his erect penis as if supporting it. His thumb 
smeared over the bulbous head, smearing a glistening bead of clear juice 
into the pores. His thumb rotated around the meatus, then slowly slid back 
along the shaft until there was nowhere to go. His fingers fondled his heavy 
testicles as he watched Shelby's fascinated eyes.

"Yeah," Juan answered. "You can even suck me off if you want," he 
offered.

"Huh? Suck what off?" Shelby asked naively. 

His innocence produced a loud guffaw. "My cock, what else would you suck 
off?" Juan answered crudely. He squeezed the inflated shaft and excreted 
another droplet of fluid.

Shelby flinched uncomfortably, wondering why the older boy would want 
him to suck his penis. There seemed to be no reason for him to do so and yet 
the suggestion was very interesting. From his perspective, Juan's penis was 
about the same thickness as a large sausage and slightly longer. He tried to 
decide whether a sausage would fit in his mouth as well as his tongue, and 
promptly followed that thought by wondering what it would taste like. 

"You haven't sucked a cock yet, have you?" Juan asked. 

Shelby shook his head. He swallowed, still imagining the taste of it. 
Somehow he knew it would taste very different to a sausage. It looked like 
it would have a nice taste.

"I thought you messed around with your brother?" Juan challenged.

"Uh, yeah, we do. I already told you that." Shelby admitted uncertainly. 
"We play with our dicks sometimes. My dad said its not bad to play with it, 
and besides, most kids do that stuff at my age."

"So you said. That's all you've done, play with his dick? So you haven't 
gone down on him, huh?" Juan laughed. "You don't know what you're missing. 
Sucking cock is the next best thing there is, and for a little kid like you it 
may be the only thing there is for quite a while."

Shelby swallowed sheepishly, his boyish bravado rising to the 
challenge like the little projectile between his legs. "I done other things 
too," he retorted.

His answer piqued Juan's interest. He wondered whether the dark-
skinned boy was no longer a virgin. It was possible, although unlikely that 
the ten-year-old knew what it was like to have a cock in his ass, even to have 
his own penis embedded in his sibling without discovering the possibilities 
inherent in oral sex. It offered interesting possibilities, he mused.

"Like what?" Juan demanded.

"Uh?" Shelby stalled. It would do little good to tell Juan that they 
wrestled in the nude. On the scale of boy-sex activities it probably rated 
below playing with each other's penises, and far lower than 'sucking cock'. He 
took a deep breath, still stalling as he tried to decide where his other 
activity would rank. He decided to tell.

"Uh, well sometimes I put this stuff on my thing," he answered slowly. 
He could sense that Juan did not understand. "It's an oil we use to make the 
leather soft. When I jerk off it makes me go crazy 'cause it feels so good."

Juan regarded the boy suspiciously. "You put what on your cock?"

"It's what we use on the saddles 'n all. It makes it really slippery and 
it feels great when I jerk off."

"You're weird. You point oil on it? I guess I should be surprised you 
don't use axle grease," Juan laughed. He saw the serious expression on 
Shelby's face. Clearly the boy was not joking. "Okay, why don't you show 
me?" he added.

The desire to share his masturbation with the older boy was 
overpowering. There was a slight chance that Juan would allow him to do it. 
With nothing to lose except being ridiculed, Shelby took the opportunity 
presented to him. 

"I will if you do it too. You won't believe how good it feels. It's 
truly awesome."

Juan nodded obligingly. At that moment it seemed to be the only way that 
he would get to see the half-Navajo boy in his natural state again. It had 
become his primary goal. Shelby grinned and darted away, taking the ladder 
steps two at a time until he reached the ground. On the workbench he found the 
bottle of neatsfoot oil. He scurried back up the ladder and deposited his 
treasure on a hay bale. Oblivious to Juan's attentive gaze, he unfastened 
the button and zipper of his ragged blue jeans and skinned them down to his 
knees. He sat down on the hay bale, shoved his bunched up jeans and underpants 
all the way to his ankles. He picked up the bottle and unscrewed the plastic 
cap. Expertly he placed a generous amount over his wedge-shaped penis and 
rubbed still more into his scrotum. He glistened. 

He felt his heart racing as his excitement increased until he could 
barely breath. He knew the good feelings more than compensated for any 
embarrasment he would feel. He glanced up at Juan and realized that the 
teenager was staring enraptured at his undersized genitals. His three inches 
of hard hairless boy-penis held the older boy entranced, just as the more than 
five inches of erect teenage-penis was incredibly fascinating to him. 
Without speaking, Shelby's trembling left hand pulled both of his little 
testicles down and held them tightly. He took a deep breath, momentarily 
closed his eyes, and slowly began to stroke rhythmically. He winced as the 
feelings began, his belly pulling in as the pleasure began to flow through his 
stiff penis. A tremor passed through him and he felt a sudden urge to urinate. 
A yellow dribble escaped, trickling into the straw at his feet. He fought back 
against waves of cruel pleasure as the sensations intensified, his hand flying 
rapidly up and down, grasping tightly until the delight increased and became 
overpowering. It was only by exerting all his willpower was he able to stop. 
He breathed out in relief as his hand slowed.

"Okay? Now you," he muttered urgently. Juan hesitated, eyes glued to the 
small rigid penis displayed before him. It bobbed up and down, alive and 
hungry for nourishment. "You have to do it too," Shelby snapped as the youth 
delayed.

"You want to jerk off together?" Juan teased.

"Yes," Shelby answered abruptly. He started to masturbate again, 
gripping his short penis with a thumb and two fingers. He gasped as the 
pleasure increased, returning with a vengeance at the brief interruption. "Put 
some of the oil on like I did." 

Juan flinched as Shelby shuddered. "You okay?" 

Shelby groaned, feeling his legs weaken. The urge to eject something 
from his loins increased. He shuddered again, his penis pulsing with each beat 
of his heart. His buttocks tensed and he bowed forward as his eyes squeezed 
closed. Images of his father in the corral passed before him and he trembled 
with a sudden spasm. 

"Y-y-y-e-e-a-a-h-h! I'm okay!" 

He smiled weakly and again forced himself to slow down. His penis was 
throbbing and his scrotum had become very tight. He glanced away, feeling a 
tinge of envy after he had studied the teenager's genitals and made the 
obvious comparison with his own small appendage. Juan's sex organs looked more 
like his father's than his own, a disheartening realization at first. It was 
made worse when he considered than only they were separated by more than size. 
He evaded his growing jealousy by returning to the matter at hand. 

"That is if you ain't scared. Maybe us Navajo are just braver than 
Mexicans," Shelby taunted.

Not to be outdone by a mere boy, Juan squatted down and picked up the 
bottle. Vaseline, hand lotion, KY jelly, soap, Crisco,.... he thought he had 
tried them all. His hands moved slowly as he removed the plastic cap. When 
he looked up again, Shelby's face seemed to be contorted. There was a wild 
look in his previously sensuous dark eyes. He breathed erratically, gasping as 
the feelings ebbed and flowed, his eyes closing tightly during each shuddering 
spasm. To Juan, the young boy seemed to be experiencing one orgasm after 
another although he had yet to touch his ejaculate anything. He fingered his 
full pouch as he dreamed of emptying his seed over the boy's slim body, in his 
mouth, in his rectum.

Shelby gasped. He took a deep breath and tried to control the feeling 
that he was about to explode. His fingers squeezed his penis tightly, 
rubbing with a frantic urgency. His father had made him feel the same way with 
only the slightest touch on his male member. He glanced down, observing the 
dark bulging veins under the nearly translucent skin of his distended organ. 
His foreskin was fully retracted, his glans bloated like a ripe cherry. 
Something deep inside him, something in the vicinity of his bladder seemed 
to be swelling. It felt almost like he needed to urinate with a pressure 
that had increased to an uncomfortable level. From his seat on the prickly 
straw he watched Juan wipe the shiny oil over his thick hard penis. A 
copious droplet of pre-seminal fluid glistened at the huge reddened tip. At 
the same time he was fearful, it invited a closer inspection. 

With shameless excitement, Shelby eased down onto his knees until he 
knelt before the youth.

"Can I?" he asked anxiously.

Juan nodded.  Shelby's hands shook as he reached up, following the 
strong thighs until he touched the other boy's much larger testicles through 
the wrinkled skin of a very full pouch. Despite his maturity Juan was not 
nearly as hairy as his father, his scrotum still devoid of hair. What sparse 
hair was on his groin was relatively straight and thin, very unlike the wire-
like curls of Shelby's father.

With both pigeon-egg-sized testicles held in his cupped hand, Shelby 
leaned forward and examined the bloated glans before him. Juan regarded the 
young Navajo boy curiously. During the last few seconds Shelby's fear had 
dissipated. His penis was as stiff and demanding as the teenager's, his entire 
body sexually charged. He was visibly nervous as he considered the unspoken 
request that now dominated his thoughts. Instinctively he knew that touching 
Juan's penis would lead to the onset of other far-greater pleasures. He 
could not help but wonder about Juan's proposal for 'sucking cock'. 

"Can I touch it," Shelby asked. 

"You can suck it if you want. Assuming you're not afraid you'll choke on 
it." 

Shelby glared at him. Juan grinned and then calmly taunted the younger 
boy with a fourteen-year-old's perception of psychological weakness.

"I dare you! You must be chicken."

Shelby snorted in derision and accepted the challenge. His white 
knuckled fingers revealed the strain it took to keep his right hand from 
graping Juan's penis and devouring it in a single mouthful. He eased back, 
contemplating for a way to begin. he leaned forward and opened his mouth wide, 
very wide. He stretched his jaws as his face neared. He felt it brush his 
lips. Soft, hard, hot, wet, strange, familiar. He expected it to taste bad, 
but he was unprepared as the glans came between his stretched lips. His tongue 
touched the bulging fullness, tasting saltiness and the bitter taste of the 
thin oil. He shuddered as he felt the penis forcing his mouth open even 
further, pushing his tongue out of the way, sliding past his lips, into him 
with a frightening power. Shelby glanced down as he suppressed his gag reflex. 
Half in, half out, the covering skin was stretched so tightly that it seemed 
to be transparent. Minute red veins lay close the surface and created a  
filigree tracery. He felt the urge to vomit and swallowed before he heaved. 
Another inch rammed forward. He felt Juan's pubic hair brushing his nose. 

"Jesus! Suck me!" Juan groaned. "Christ Almighty. It suck me!"

Shelby smirked. He looked up and gazed at Juan's contorted face, 
fascinated by the youth's ecstasy and he wondered whether he would act the 
same way if his penis was in some one's mouth. He took hold of his thin 
erection between his thumb and two fingers, and began to masturbate with 
deliberate and exaggerated jerks, still using the unpracticed motions of a 
pre-teen boy. Within seconds his rubbing became faster as he was transported 
by the intense sensations he provoked in his throbbing penis. His cheeks 
worked urgently as he sucked, oblivious to the taste and aware only of the 
overpowering joy of having the huge penis within him. His awkwardness 
encouraged Juan to stand quietly, silently waiting for the boy to overcome his 
natural fear and his chance to pump into the beautiful small mouth. Above all, 
he did not want Shelby to stop.

Less than a minute passed before Juan's hips began to thrust, his 
mouth agape as he enjoyed the boy's clumsy efforts to perform an activity 
previously unknown to him. His penis pulsed and throbbed in response to his 
pounding heart. He glanced down at Shelby, sucking earnestly and using his 
free hand to rapidly rub his rigid member. His ballsac bounced against his 
brown thighs, slapping loudly as highly sensitive nerves sent frantic messages 
through his brain. Juan groaned. He was skeptical that anything could feel 
as good as fucking Tyler's ass, but Shelby's mouth was a good substitute. He 
began to hump faster, shifting uncomfortably as his aching testicles 
overwhelmed him. He groaned again, his mouth opening wide in disbelief. 

Amid the terrifying pressence of the huge penis lunging forcefully 
into Shelby's mouth came sensations that were both irresistible and 
uncontrollable. He closed his eyes and gripped the penis tightly, jerking 
frantically. Shelby trembled uncontrollably, his wrist beginning to cramp as 
he jerked his own penis eratically. The feeling that he was about to explode 
had never been stronger. Faster, faster, his hand flying up and down, 
sucking the burning cock harder, rubbing his cheeks against Juan's smooth 
thighs until he was barely cognizant of his companion. His pleasure was 
excruciating. He tasted salt, spurting hot and thick into his mouth until it 
coated his tongue and ran to his throat. He swallowed.  His body heaved at the 
moment of climax, wracked by dry spasms as he shuddered violently. As the 
frenzy passed he slumped onto the floor, mutely watching Juan experience the 
continuing throes of orgasm.

There was a delectable taste inside Shelby's mouth that he relished. 
It more than compensated for his aching wrist. In shock, he watched the last 
of Juan's semen being expelled. It was the first time he had witnessed the 
fruit of maturity, milky splatters flying out with each downward pump of 
Juan's fist. More than a few droplets reached him, tainting his sweat-
moistened chest and belly, one random pearl even landing on his cheek. 
Although Juan was only a few years older than he was, this was a man's seed, 
the stuff that made babies, that would make him a man when he was older. It 
was what his father and Juan called 'cum'. He silently wished that he was able 
to 'cum'. At the same time he considered Juan's much larger penis and bush 
of dark pubic hair to be both unattractive and undesirable.

"Muther fucker!" Juan groaned. "I never cummed so much," he gasped. 
"NEVER! Never in a million years. I never thought anything could be better 
than Tyler's ass."

Shelby smirked proudly, not understanding the meaning of Juan's anal 
reference. He wondered what could be better than 'sucking cock'. 

"You sucked like a pro," Juan announced. "I knew you'd like it." 

Shelby grinned as he casually fondled his partially stiff penis. Both 
reason and intuition told him he had performed more than adequately. Juan 
was visibly pleased by his accomplishment. His skin felt clammy, no longer 
heated and wet with perspiration. He struggled to his knees and clumsily wiped 
the milky smears from his chest with a hankerchief from the front pocket of 
his blue jeans. Ruefully he rubbed his fingers against his lips, thinking of 
what had gone inisde him. The stuff that made babies was in his belly.

Silently he gazed at Juan and stifled a smile as the older boy attempted 
to wipe himself clean. 

"You like the taste don't you?" Juan taunted."Now you can suck your 
brother like that," he suggested. "You still got a few years before he 
shoots off though," he added. 

Shelby shot him a contemptuous look, grinning cheekily. "No way. The 
nearest doctor in Gallup, he cut Shane's balls off. My dad said he cain't ever 
do it, shoot sperms like you just did."

Juan winced and stared at Shelby. "God, you're joking," he replied.

Shelby shrugged, unable to take his eyes way from the wetness on 
Juan's belly. He expected that his father had a lot more of it. 

"I'm not!" he retorted.

"You're crazy, kid! Even for a dumb Indian!" Juan joked as he  
massaged his drained testicles. Shelby smirked. "What do you mean about your 
brother? You said a doctor cut his balls off? You're kiddin' right?" 

Shelby shook his head. "His stupid pony kicked him real bad a few 
years back. It got him right in the balls. You should have seen it. It 
lifted him right off the ground and almost threw him over the fence."

"Jesus! The poor little guy. I thought he looked a bit,... well funny 
lookin' down there." 

Shelby shrugged. "He cain't make babies because of it. His balls got 
mashed so there was nothin' the doctor could do." A thought came to him, a 
sudden urge to touch the other boy's body again and be touched himself. 
"Sometimes me and my brother wrestle," he suggested hopefully. 

Juan grinned at the younger boy and then looked away as he pretended 
disinterest. "Wow!" he replied with exaggerated enthusiasm. "That must be 
fun." 

Shelby grinned back, fully aware that he was being teased. "We rub our 
things together while we do it," he added. 

"That's better," Juan laughed. "Man, you're just one horny little kid, 
aren't you? Stand up!" 

He reached out and placed his hand on Shelby's shoulder. The boy grinned 
as their eyes met. 

"You're really cool," Shelby announced. Juan raised his other hand to 
the boy's shoulder and positioned him directly before him. 

"You're sexy, for a kid," he said as he lowered his head. "Real sexy."

They were startled as Matt called out loudly from the house. Hurriedly 
they pulled their clothes on, dusted off the chaff and bits of straw, and 
climbed down the ladder.


CHAPTER 5. BOY IN CHANU VALLEY.

 Shelby did not know why he continued his walk along the arroyo, 
following the dry creek when the going was so rough. The road was quicker 
and much easier. The deer path he followed had faded and completely 
disappeared several bends ago and he was forced to take to the center of the 
dry creek bed to avoid the thick brush on the sides. He had never been this 
far from the road before, not even with his father and brother when they hiked 
down to the reservation. He leaped from one rock to another, then as the rocks 
became smaller, he jumped across several at a time as he pretended that 
there was a steady flow of water instead of dusty sand and cracked hard mud. 
Despite the fact that he was born and bred on the rugged mesa far above him, 
there was always a risk, albeit small that he was not agile enough to avoid 
missing a vital footstep. The consequences at best were simply getting a 
twisted ankle or, at worst, a broken leg. This far from home, unless his 
father came to look for him it was unlikely that he would make it back under 
the latter scenario. But the possibility of injury did not enter his mind. 
That he could break an ankle or shatter one of his legs on a rock was never 
a consideration.

Why he did not return to the mesa in the first place by the road instead 
of going up the arroyo also had not entered his mind. He simply enjoyed 
being by himself on that late afternoon. Without Shane, best friend and 
constant annoyance, he could move at his own pace. He revelled in the freedom, 
glad that his younger brother was out of his way for the next twenty-four 
hours celebrating another eight-year-old boy's birthday at the pueblo.

 As hot air rose up the side of the mesa, a breeze came up the ravine. 
Dry leaves scattered and danced their way along the rocky ground. It was 
Sunday, a day without work, a day to be thankful, a day to praise the Lord 
if he had been raised a true Catholic. However, while he believed he had a lot 
to be thankful for, the last time he had been in church was a dim, not very 
pleasant memory when his mother still lived with them. He felt happier than he 
had been in a long time. There was a solitude that came gradually into his 
mind and restored the peace. He found freedom in the quiet of the valley. 
Slowly his problems faded and the torment that had nearly fractured his ten-
year-old life was pushed aside. He had been torn apart by the thought of 
losing the ranch. It was all that the Cassidy family had. If they lost it, 
they would be subjugated to taking the handouts of a society that valued the 
material assets of home and investment portfolio. Beyond the mesa, those 
things were more important than the graceful beauty of a running deer or the 
fiery red of a sunset, even more important than he was.

The long wait for the bank to respond to his father's request for an 
extension on the note had been frustrating, but offered hope on the unlikely 
possibility that no news was good news. However, the letter that Matt 
Cassidy had finally received was the inescapable proof that their lives were 
shattered. Shelby had discovered the letter in his father's chest of 
drawers. The truth he learned and now faced was that his life no longer 
existed in any meaningful way. For nearly a month he had tried to believe that 
it would end happily, like the end of a fairy tale, or a feel-good book for 
kids in which even the worst calamity ended up being good for the kid, and 
everything turned out great by the middle of the last chapter. Real life was 
not like that. In real life, kids got hurt. Already his father had gone to 
Albuquerque to look for a job and somewhere for them to live. Shelby was not 
exactly sure what living in the city involved, but it did involve leaving 
his home on the mesa. He would be unhappy, of that much he was certain. 

Even the opportunities for friends of his own age did not interest 
him. Malls, schools, toys, and girls were as foreign to him as rattlesnakes 
were to the kids in the city. As far as girls were concerned, his concept of 
the opposite sex was little more than rutting animals and a vague relationship 
with his penis and a corresponding and as yet, unseen part of the female 
anatomy. He had almost no interest in furthering his knowledge in that 
particular area although it was quite a different matter when his own sex 
was considered. Life on the mesa with his father and brother had seen to that, 
and his interest was piqued even further by his brief friendship with Juan and 
by memories of what he had done in the barn.

Just six weeks after his tenth birthday, the day after Juan and Tyler 
left to return to Salt Lake City, he had come to the inescapable conclusion 
why he was attracted to the older boy. With Juan's help and the loneliness 
of the secluded, towering mesa, he came to understand the meaning of the 
word 'gay', although the connotations associated with it were still barely 
grasped. It was not something that he wanted to be, but it was something 
that was easy to enjoy. He remembered Juan's firm touch on his member, the 
embrace of soft bare skin that sent shivers through him, the warmth of young 
loins united and moving in passionate thrusts, penis rubbing against penis. 
For some inexplicable reason the young Navajo boy enjoyed the sense of 
powerlessness as he lay beneath the youth, accepting domination and submitting 
eagerly to the other boy's caresses as he clutched the thick erection 
between his thighs and waited for the wetness to spill over him. The 
feelings were even stronger when his father hugged him, perhaps they were 
stronger because the arms that wrapped around him were stronger. 

At one large flat rock he paused. He stretched languidly, easing the 
tension in his young muscles as he arched his back gracefully. He felt alive 
and free. At that moment nothing could stop him. He was, with the 
infallibility of the young, unconscious of any limitation that could hold 
him back. He moved easily and without awkwardness, his agility reflecting 
his physical condition and coordination. Dressed only in loose jeans that 
had been worn to tatters by an active ten-year-old and an oversized shirt 
borrowed from his father, his body was tantalizingly unhampered by 
constricting clothing. He was not naked, but he may as well have been as he 
relished the freedom of easy movement like a Navajo brave wearing leather 
breeches.

He looked up suddenly as the screeching call of hawks floated through 
the trees. Shelby was brought back to reality as he scanned the tangled pinyon 
woods. Not for the first time during that sunny afternoon did he sense that he 
was being observed. Suddenly his reverie vanished and he shivered. He was no 
longer the carefree child travelling in an imaginary world to destinations 
that challenged the cruel distortions of the last month. He breathed quickly 
and his face was flushed from his game. For that was what his life has become. 
It was a game, just as much as his tenuous passage up the creek. He lived on 
the edge.

He was startled by the flapping sound of wings as two red hawks 
scattered and rose up from the rocks that lay beyond the trees. The arroyo 
widened ahead and the ground was dusty, even more so as the pinyon pines 
parted and the hot sun baked the earth to a thick hard crust. He stopped, 
transfixed by the sight of nature's beauty. It was very different to the 
apartment in which he would spend the rest of his childhood, a poor 
replacement for the ramshackle house that had been his home for the previous 
ten years of his life. He sighed internally as he wished for the thousandth 
time that he could live with his father and Shane on the mesa. Life was good 
on the mesa and he loved every moment of his brief existence. They shared 
something which he could not define. It was more than enough to take away 
the pain of poverty. Surrounded by such beauty, a person had no need of 
riches.

However, if the truth was told, life on the mesa was not complete. Since 
the time in the corral, his father had confused him, even making him feel 
nervous and uncertain about himself and his body. Shelby's small fist clenched 
and he groaned inwardly as the memory of that afternoon returned. Until 
then, he had been innocent and everything was simpler. What he had experienced 
had changed him forever. Even worse than the knowledge within him was the fact 
that he was unable to tell his father what he now felt. It gnawed at him, 
festering. His mind clamored each time that he dwelled upon the memory of 
his father masturbating him. He thought about it with persistent frequency 
until he could picture the event with such clarity that it seemed as if he was 
still lying in the dust. It was a strong memory, stronger than what he had 
done with Juan in the loft, and he thought about it whenever there was nothing 
else to hold his interest. Late at night as he lay in bed, the image became 
even more demanding of his attention. And each time he thought about what 
had happened, his penis became very, very hard until he needed to 
masturbate. Every night his eyes closed tightly as he focused on the act of 
self pleasuring. He did only what every boy did, at least according to what 
his father had told him.

 The feelings had became increasingly better as the pretended motion 
of his father's hand, his own hand, became faster. It jerked up and down 
with frantic regularity, pulling on the distended shaft with such force that 
Shelby became frightened. Even though his own distressing grunts and moans 
told him it was pleasurable, he was confused. Even though he felt no guilt, 
masturbation was both frightening and exciting to the sensitive youngster. 
Shelby sought solace from the sadness of leaving the life he loved as he 
satisfied a desire for physical contact with another male.

 His life was also sad on the mesa, as sad as it would soon become in 
the city. Sometimes, not often, he was lonely. Shelby wanted to talk, to 
tell his father of his most private thoughts, the thoughts that consumed his 
when he masturbated. He stared absently. As he watched the hawks wheeling, one 
them fell lifelessly to the ground as a shotgun boomed loudly. From where he 
stood he did not see the buck-shot pierce its breast and the spray of blood. 
Nor did he hear the soft whoosh as the bird plummeted to the ground, but 
then he was could not have heard it over the roaring blast of the nearby 
shotgun. He felt sick in his stomach. The noise, a familiar sound on the 
reservation, was different to any gunshot he had heard before as they echoed 
up the blunt walls at Castle Rock. Sound carried further in the valley air, 
his father said, and the loud boom of a twelve-gauge shotgun was unmistakable. 
Before, the hunters were miles away and most of them knew well enough not to 
venture onto posted lands or try to climb up the mesa.

Shelby leaped from the flat granite boulder on which he stood, to 
another, and then to the pebble-covered bank that had appeared from the 
thick foliage as it opened into a wide clearing. He trotted towards the fallen 
hawk a hundred yards away. Barely halfway there, he stopped. There was another 
loud crack, a booming sound that echoed through the valley. A moment later two 
hunters, dressed in camouflage green and brown shirts and carrying polished 
instruments of death came out of the woods on a converging path. He tensed and 
stayed his course as they approached him. They stopped only a few yards 
away. Shelby took a deep breath and figured that it was no worse than facing 
an angry mare. He spoke bravely though his reedy voice crackled with uncertain 
passion.

"You can't hunt here," he said boldly. "My people own this land and it's 
not allowed. You're on the reservation. There are signs up next to the fence 
that say 'Trespassing Prohibited'. You must have seen them when you came 
down the road."

One man looked at his companion, more youth than man, and snorted as 
he ejected yellow spittle onto the ground. "Fuck off, kid. Why don't you run 
back to your mommy before you crap your pants."

The teenager snickered and continued to walk towards the carcass. He 
picked it up and turned around. He walked back to the man swinging the hawk by 
a yellow thin leg. He glared at Shelby. The younger dark-skinned boy shivered. 
In ten years he had never seen a hawk actually die and the sight of the bloody 
bird, his own sacred fetish, chilled his spine. But despite his fear, Shelby's 
eyes were glued to it. Finally he looked up and found that the young man was 
staring at him. Shelby looked away and his eyes came to rest on the other 
man's crotch. There was a huge bulge in his jeans. It was much bigger than the 
bulge in his father's jeans. He remembered what he had seen only hours 
before when his father dragged him out of bed. By comparison, this man's penis 
had to be enormous. Shelby swallowed, his eyes locked on the swollen ridge 
that pushed under the well worn denim. He tried to imagine what it would 
look like.

"There must be twenty holes in it. You got it right through the guts, 
Dave. I can't believe it," the young man smirked.

"I told ya' I was a good shot, didn't I? Next time you'll believe me, 
won't you Jeff." Dave sneered.

The man stared at Shelby. For several seconds he could not be certain. 
The boy's eyes did not move. Shelby was riveted. He shrank before the man's 
eyes, very aware that his interest was perceived, but unable to look away. 
Increasingly interested, increasingly guilt-ridden, increasingly confused, 
Shelby's existence was directed not only towards his own sex but towards 
men. His closely guarded stash of pictures culled from Sports Illustrated 
advertisements was quickly becoming insufficient for the curiosity that 
raged inside the turmoil of his young mind. After his time with Juan in the 
barn he had much more than an inkling of what lay beneath the faded denim 
and its capacity to give him the pleasure he needed. Despite his fear, there 
was a nagging excitement that rose up inside him and required his undivided 
attention. 

"What ya' lookin' at kid?" the man smirked. Shelby did not speak for 
fifteen long, still-fascinated seconds. It was as if he did not realize that 
he had been addressed. 

"Nothing! You can't hunt here," he repeated bravely. He was frightened 
and the fear overwhelmed his shame. He straightened up and averted his eyes. 

"So ya' said." the man studied the determined boy who impudently tried 
to raise his height by standing up straight and tall. "Well, what are you 
fuckin' going to do 'bout it? There ain't shit to stop me! And that includes 
you, pretty-boy."

He fingered the stock of his Winchester Model 1300 pump-action. A load 
of No. 6 was already in the breech. He smirked again at the young man beside 
him. At this distance, one squeeze of the trigger and the overly handsome 
preteen boy would be cut in half and his guts spread over the trees behind 
him. But he was partial to boys, especially dark-haired boys who had not 
started puberty. The youngster who confronted him aroused his urge like few 
others had managed to do. The already large bulge in the crotch of his jeans 
stirred and began to grow.

"You better git your cute little ass back home where it belongs kid 
before we fix it so you don't want to sit down for a week," the man taunted 
loudly.

The sexual reference was missed by the ten-year-old boy-virgin. Until 
six weeks earlier, the nearest thing to sex he had experienced was playing 
with his penis in his bed. And while his sex education had taken a dramatic 
step forward when his father had touched his penis, and again with Juan, he 
still had a lot to learn, and he wanted badly to learn more than he could 
discover from mysterious adult bulges on his growing collection of dog-eared 
pictures. That sex could involve his ass and cause discomfort when he sat down 
had never entered his mind.

"I'll tell my father," Shelby threatened impotently. His eyes drifted 
back to the man's groin. He forced himself to look away again, but his eyes 
moved to the side and focused on the young man's crotch.

"Don't you hear good, kid?" the man snarled. "Cause when me and Jeff 
here finish fuckin' you, you going to be real sore in your butt and wish to 
God you heard better."

The young man, just past his nineteenth birthday laughed loudly. He knew 
exactly how sore the kid would be. He took his first cock, his uncle's 
monster, when he was not much more than ten years old, about the same age as 
the skinny runt who stood before them. He started to get hard just thinking 
about sinking his cock into the youngster's tight behind. The kid would cry 
and beg for mercy until it was in. A few minutes later he would squeal his 
head off while be pleaded for it faster and deeper. They all did that sooner 
or later. He was the living proof that boys liked it a lot once they were used 
to taking a man-sized cock. This pretty Indian boy would be no different, 
probably better at it than most given the way he stared at his uncle's 
equipment. He was angry, uncertain as to whether he was jealous of the boy, or 
excited by the opportunity of both watching and participating in the kid's 
initiation. He had watched another boy, his best friend, having sex with his 
uncle, but he had never taken an active role in defiling a kid's cherry.

"You better git while the going is good," the young man warned. "He 
ain't kiddin' you. He'll split your ass wide open. You won't ever be the 
same once he does it to you. There'll be blood and shit all over you and 
your ass will be full of cum," he laughed. "And afterwards, when you get 
over the pain you'll want a cock in your cute little fuck-hole more than you 
can stand. You better git your ass somewhere safe."

The young man turned instantly as he heard the noise behind him. Where 
the man on horseback came from he could not be sure, but he appeared without 
warning and made only the slightest sound as he crossed the hard ground. The 
horse moved restlessly, standing its ground with nervous tremors.

"Maybe you should explain to me why he better git," Matt demanded. His 
hand rested on the saddle. By nature, Matt was not an aggressive person, 
although he was angry that anyone would dare to threaten his son. He felt 
strangely relaxed. The two men were very threatening if only by virtue of 
their very casualness and the shotguns they carried.

"Chanu Indians own this land and that means you two clowns are 
trespassing."

The other man, Dave Baker, card-carrying member of the United Front 
Militia, studied the stranger who dared to confront him. He sized Matt up as 
he would evaluate any man before he started a fight. Matt was of equal 
height to himself and he carried himself well for forty years and one 
hundred and eighty pounds. Both men radiated tension. The moment was as 
tense as the preliminaries to any bar brawl.

"This here kid is your's, ain't he?" Baker snarled. Matt nodded 
slightly, acknowledging Shelby as his own. "You better keep 'im on a leash 
'fore he gets his ass fucked."

Matt swallowed. "What did you say?"

"You heard 'im," the young man said brashly. 

Matt smouldered for several seconds as he contemplated his response. 
They were armed, albeit with shotguns but as deadly at this range as any high-
powered rifle. He hated guns when someone else had one.

"Listen ass-hole, you're trespassing. I wouldn't advise you to 
threaten the boy with something like that," Matt snarled.

"And what are you going to do 'bout it?" Baker raised the barrel of 
the gun slightly.

His gesture was threatening and for an instant Matt shuddered. Here, 
it could be several weeks before someone found their bodies. His brain sent an 
urgent message of caution as he tensed. If anyone was supposed to know 
anything at all about survival under stress, it should be him. It was one of 
the lessons learned on the mesa. Matt backed off. It was, under the 
circumstances, the only sensible thing to do.

"Right now, nothing. You leave the fuckin' bird and get the hell outta 
here and I won't call the tribal police."

Matt's voice was as controlled as he could manage, but he could hear the 
fear in the background. He had never used a word like that in front of his son 
and he saw the boy's shocked reaction as he half-turned to stare at him. He 
wondered whether the child realized the danger that they were both in. He 
assumed so. Shelby's face was pale, as if blanched by seeing his father's 
consternation. 

The hunter turned to his accomplice and shrugged. "Well Jeff, looks like 
no boy-butt for you today." He shouldered his gun and glared at Matt 
angrily. "I'd keep junior here real close to ya', that is unless you want 
his asshole as big as his fuckin' mouth and all bloody to boot." 

"Just get the hell outta here. If you have any brains you'd leave now 
and get off the reservation. The Chanu don't like people killing their hawks."

Baker smirked. "How about fucking an injun kid's ass? Guess they ain't 
too keen on that either. Pity! It looks like he's got an ass built for 
giving a man a good time. How about it kid? You wanna sneak back here tonight? 
You want me to stick it up your rump?"

"Leave the boy alone. Go plough the furrows in your own field," Matt 
snarled.

Baker smiled. "Of course, his daddy is going to say that. Maybe you 
really want me to fuck his ass for ya'? He sure is a cutie pie."

He motioned to the young man to drop the bird. It thumped to the ground. 
For the moment Matt was the winner. He nudged his horse in the flanks and 
guided it towards his son. Matt reached to him, grabbed his right arm 
tightly and swung him up so that he sat before him. He was stunned by how 
light the boy was. If Shelby tipped the scales at more than sixty-five pounds, 
fully clothed, Matt would be surprised.

"Get off the reservation," Matt said with barely restrained anger. "If I 
see you here again I will call the police."

"Next time, ass-hole, I'll spear the little queer if I find him. Not 
that your kid's going to mind my cock stuffed up his ass. From the looks a' 
him he's going to love it. He's got faggot-boy writ all over him."

His last words were directed at Matt's back as he turned the horse for 
home and trotted away from them. Matt held Shelby around the waist. He could 
feel the slender young body shuddering uncontrollably and he pitied him. 
From personal experience, he knew that growing up gay was just about the 
hardest thing any boy could do. No wonder Shelby cried, so unlike the young 
Navajo boy who seldom expressed any emotion except happiness. The child in him 
was growing up.



As they rode back to the house on the mesa Matt tried to think of what 
he should say to Shelby. He had stopped crying after a few minutes and he 
sat slumped against the pommel. He was almost as lifeless as the hawk they had 
left behind them. Matt wondered silently what he should say to the boy. He 
understood Shelby's shame, for even a complete stranger had seen through the 
facade he had erected and announced it to the world. The stranger had 
identified Shelby for exactly what he was. He was more exposed and fragile 
than at any time in his short life. Since the episode in the corral Matt 
suspected that the boy was attracted to his own sex, perhaps even to grown 
men. The signs were unmistakable and the final proof had come when he had 
discovered his son's pictures only an hour earlier. That was what had 
brought him out to find Shelby.

What did one say to a gay boy who had started to discover his true self? 
Matt remembered what it was like to grow up gay. He sighed. He tightened his 
grip around Shelby's lean chest and gave him a loving hug as they rode back 
towards the house. The boy needed all the support that he could muster and 
every bit of affection he could give him. Shelby's true self would emerge and, 
unlike Matt's own father, he intended to help his son along the way. Shelby 
felt warm and alive as his heat flowed out. His stripling body was full of the 
vitality of youth and Matt absorbed him with growing pleasure. Was it his 
imagination that Shelby sighed as he pressed back into his father's chest at 
the same time?

"Shelby,... what that man said to you back there,... it was wrong," Matt 
began hesitantly.

Shelby's tousled head turned slightly. "Huh?"

"He was wrong to threaten you. You had a perfect right to tell him to 
leave. I'm very proud of you, Shelby. That took a lot of guts."

"I was scared," Shelby admitted. "For a while I thought he was going 
to hurt me. He even pointed the gun at me. I thought he was going to shoot me, 
and then you rode up."

Matt nodded. Beneath the soft fleece of Shelby's tee shirt he could feel 
the firm lines of young ribs. No wonder he was easy to lift up onto the horse-
-he was a skinny little boy under his loose clothes. They both wore tee 
shirts, doubling as nightshirts if they were clean. They were comfortable in 
the cool night air of the mesa and after a late breakfast that merged into 
Sunday lunch, there had been no reason to change. Shelby had escorted Shane 
down to the pueblo without changing and Matt had followed in similar attire.

"Da," Shelby began awkwardly, "Can I ask you a question?"

"Uh huh! Of course you can. No matter what, Shelby, I always want you to 
be able to talk to me. That's what I'm here for." Matt took a deep breath 
and gently squeezed his son harder into his chest as he hugged him a little 
closer.

"What that guy said back there, that was wrong too, wasn't it? I don't 
mean that he threatened me, but that other stuff, like what he was going to 
well,... do to me."

Shelby's nervousness was audible in his trembling voice. Matt wondered 
how much he had understood of what had been said to him. He had been one or 
two years older than his son when he knew enough to understand the meaning 
of anal sex and the consequences of rape. But boys today were more aware of 
things like that than they were thirty years ago. Never mind that 'Leave it to 
Beaver' was the social norm while he was growing up. Wally Cleaver was no 
closer to getting his teenage prick into the Beaver's butt than Randy Taylor 
was to getting his ass fucked by his older brother, but at least Randy 
seemed as if he would know what to do if the opportunity presented itself.

Still, Matt was surprised. It sounded as though Shelby understood enough 
to know that he could be severely injured if the threat was acted upon. He 
contemplated his response for several seconds. Was it 'wrong'? What if it 
was something that both wanted? Matt did not know the answer. Whether it was 
right or wrong really depended upon one's perspective, and given his own 
inclinations, it was right. His hesitation provoked a further question.

"Um, Da, why did he made it sound as though it would hurt me 
terribly?" Shelby asked uncertainly.

Matt's sudden intake of breath startled both of them. He stalled for 
time as his thoughts ricochetted from why would Shelby ask such a question 
to the implication that a ten-year-old boy actually believed that being fucked 
by a man would not hurt him terribly. The next question came quickly. Did 
Shelby realize that he was gay? In a way Matt hoped so. Perhaps Shelby's 
silent shame was explained by the fact that he was trying to find a way to 
understand his own inner conflict. He was reaching out in his own immature and 
frightened way to find a like soul.

"I guess because it does hurt," Matt said simply.

"But,... it doesn't. I know it doesn't hurt," Shelby murmured.

"How do you know, Shelby?"

"It doesn't hurt all that much, does it Da? At least not the way that he 
was said it did, with blood and everything."

Matt smiled and tightened his grip around the slender chest. It felt 
good to hold the lad close to him. Memories of his own childhood came to 
him. There were short lived recollections of Navajo boys from the reservation. 
From twelve to seventeen Matt lived a lie as he tried to fulfill his 
father's expectations while giving his ass to the shaman of the Chanu at every 
opportunity. Even then, it was only in his first year at college, away from 
the pressure of family and friends, did he again venture into a homosexual 
relationship. By then Matt was anything but an insecure and guilt-ridden 
boy. His next lover was a thirty-year-old associate professor. He was followed 
by others, fellow students, a full professor, a librarian, even strangers in 
the bus station. Over the next few years Matt tried to deal with his 
sexuality, but he never came out of the closet. By the time he had accepted 
what he was he was back on the ranch with a life-style that precluded an 
alternative life-style.

Now Matt wanted to take away Shelby's pain and uncertainty, to make 
the shame and guilt vanish, to help the confused youngster emerge as his 
true self. He nuzzled the curly soft hair above Shelby's right ear. He 
wanted to be close to him. He shuddered as he wondered whether he wanted to be 
close enough to be his son's lover when the time came for Shelby to take 
that irrevocable step into growing up. The thought had first come to him 
only a day or two after he masturbated Shelby in the corral. It came again 
when he made the obvious comparison between his son and Tyler and found both 
boys sexually arousing in a way he had always denied.

 "It hurts a bit at first, especially when you're young," Matt said 
softly in his ear. He took a deep breath. "But after it's in you, Shelby, 
usually it feels okay. That is, once you get used to having it inside you. 
It can hurt until then, especially if he's a lot bigger than you."

Shelby was silent and Matt knew what he was thinking. The boy needed 
time. The hardest thing for him would be to accept himself in a role that boys 
his age, at best subjected to constant ridicule, at worst reviled. Matt 
considered what else he could say to lessen the burden his son carried. He 
decided to wait him out. Shelby needed to make the next step.

"Juan said that it was okay, too. How does it feel when you get used 
to it?" he asked at last. "Is it just okay?"

"It feels very nice, Shelby. It may be the nicest feeling that a boy can 
have. And if you love him, the guy you're with, it's an even more wonderful 
feeling because part of him, his penis, is in your bottom and you're joined 
together in a very special way. Doing it, well it's what makes you lovers, 
okay?"

Matt's voice was soft and carefully modulated to reassure his son. He 
wondered whether he had gone too far and said too much. He could almost feel 
the young body before him trembling as each new bit of information was 
consumed by his active mind.

"Have you done that with another guy, Da?" Shelby asked awkwardly. 

Matt breathed out, deflated as his confidence suddenly ebbed. "What do 
you think? Do you think your old man's gay?" he asked, uncertain that he 
wanted his son to know his past.

"That time when we were in the corral,... and you rubbed my dick,... 
well, I guess I wondered then if you were gay."

"Well,..." Matt paused, considering the possibility of a lie. He took 
a deep breath as he decided on the truth. "The answer is yes. That's what 
being gay means, son. It means you want to have sex with other males. Most 
gays do it with men, but that don't mean they always do. Does that bother you, 
Shelby?"

"No! I,... I don't care. Some of the kids at the reservation say it's 
bad,... but,.... I don't know. They tell jokes and act like it's terrible. 
Tyler and Juan are gay and they're okay. I don't know if it's bad,... but from 
what Juan said it sounded like they really don't do anything that terrible."

"Why did you ask if I was gay?" Matt asked. Suddenly he wanted to change 
the subject, but he needed to know. He could hear the tension building in 
Shelby's voice and it worried him.

"I don't know.... It really isn't important any more. I used to think 
you were lonely living up here by yourself, that's all I guess. I don't want 
you to be unhappy. If you want to move to Albuquerque, it's okay by me."

"That's a nice thing to say," Matt replied guiltily. His hands 
relaxed, now very aware that he had been caressing the boy's belly and 
aching to touch other forbidden parts.

"I'm really glad I'm your son, even if you are gay. I don't mind, Da."

Shelby wriggled against his father and the man's penis rubbed into his 
back. Matt was erect and had been that way for the last few minutes. His heart 
was pounding loudly in his ears. Shelby's movement made him even more aware of 
his young body and that served to make his penis stiffen further. 

"I love you, Shelby. If I could pick any boy to be my son, I'd always 
pick you. A man couldn't ask for more. You and Shane will always be mine."

"I love you too! I'd give anything if I could always live here with you. 
I guess after,... after Mom left, I used to think how it would be if you would 
never marry again. I wanted it to be just us on the mesa. Just you, me, and 
Shane," Shelby admitted seriously. "It doesn't matter!" he added with 
finality, although he had not finished his thought.

Matt leaned forward and kissed the top of Shelby's head. He always 
kissed the top of the boy's head, seldom anywhere else, and almost never since 
he discovered he became excited when he touched his son's penis. The 
temptation to kiss him elsewhere was sometimes almost more than he could 
stand. Somehow he always managed to stop himself. By closing his eyes, Matt 
had always been able to resist his deepest longing. Each time after he had 
kissed Shelby's head, he thought that he could see the hurt in the child's 
sensitive eyes. He did not have the right to take what he wanted. And he 
wanted to love Shelby, to make love to the boy he loved more than anyone else. 
Any way that he examined his dilemma he came to the same conclusion. He was 
the only person who truly loved Shelby Cassidy. If any one had the right to 
love Shelby, and to teach him how to make love it was him. Kissing him on 
the lips seemed both inevitable and immoral.

As Matt pondered the problem that loomed before him, the impossible 
happened and both of their lives were changed. He did not intend to touch 
Shelby's penis. It just happened by accident as they rode home.

The horse was over sixteen hands, and while seldom undisciplined, 
could be quite skittish at times. He lurched suddenly as they started down the 
gravelly side of a ravine and almost dislodged both of them. Fortunately, 
Matt's feet were in the stirrups and he regained his position with little 
difficulty. Shelby on the other hand was almost thrown off. Only the strong 
arm wrapped around his chest and the hand that quickly grasped his lean 
thigh prevented that from happening. Under the soft fleece of Shelby's pants 
Matt felt the resilience of young, firm flesh. His hand lingered for a few 
brief seconds, very aware of the delicious warmth of the juvenile erection, 
the small hardness projecting hungrily outward, realizing the urgent life that 
flowed between them in the intimate touch. He wanted desperately to squeeze, 
to fondle, to gently caress his fingers against the boy's excited genitals. 
His hand jerked away guiltily.

At the bottom of the ravine Matt eased him down to the ground, intending 
to dismount himself and tighten the girth-strap on the saddle. For a brief 
moment he paused and looked at the young boy. Shelby laughed as he brushed his 
hair back from his forehead. It would have been quite a fall and he was on 
an adrenaline high made even more excited by the strange excitement that now 
gripped him. His body trembled uneasily.

"That sure was a close one, Da," he laughed.

"Not wrong, Shelby. You were lucky. Actually, I guess we both are. I 
thought we might have gone down for a moment." 

He patted the horse's withers and scratched his fingers in the thick 
mane as he gazed at Shelby. He was a beautiful boy. Matt breathed heavily. 
He wanted to say something to continue the momentum, but he also needed to 
distance himself from thoughts he knew were evil in their intent.

"I had to get off anyway," Shelby grinned. He started to back away. 
"I've got to pee something awful."

Matt glanced around, looking over both of his shoulders before he turned 
back. "Well no one is going to see you down here, except me and Mister 
Nixon, that is."

Shelby laughed. Matt loved his ready smile, but he was infatuated with 
his son's high-pitched boyish laugh. It was more a playful giggle than 
anything and it suited his beaming face.

"I guess so!" The boy continued to back away, moving inexorably 
towards a tree trunk that offered just enough privacy for a small boy to 
perform nature's calling.

"It's just a dick, you know Shelby. The last time I looked I had one, 
and I know old Nixon's got a damn big one, so I suppose all three of us have 
got one," Matt challenged. "Your's might be the smallest one here, but that 
still ain't no reason to hide it from us."

Shelby's smile changed to a sly smirk. "Do you want to see me pee, 
Da?" he teased.

Suddenly Shelby's expression became serious, making Matt's heart race 
and his brain send frantic messages through his body. Their eyes met. Matt 
stared down from high on the horse. Without looking away, Shelby's hands moved 
to his waist and he pulled his sweat pants down a few inches. Paler, but 
still-brown skin was revealed. He stopped with the waist band just above his 
crotch, a definite point stretching the cloth between his thighs. Matt 
nodded slightly in approval. A glimmer of a smile flashed across his son's 
face and his hands moved lower. Matt smiled and Shelby's hands moved further 
down, pulling his pants and the tip of his penis even lower. Matt saw the base 
of Shelby's penis. His eyes widened and his heart surged. For the space of 
only a few seconds, Shelby hesitated. He swallowed bravely and then his 
hands dropped quickly until Matt could see all of his young treasure.

The youngster was not well endowed, even as ten-year-old boys go. If his 
mother was to be believed, Shelby was much like his father in that respect. 
Her crude comments to two other women informed all of the women on the 
reservation that her husband and both of her sons had been short-changed in 
the penis department. Shelby's penis was fully hard, its size exaggerated by a 
disappointingly small scrotal pouch that bore no sign of the fullness that 
heralded the approach of puberty. Unlike Matt's own penis, the boy's squat 
erection did not stick out between his legs and rise up to his belly. Instead, 
it adopted a position that was somewhere between horizontal and an oblique 
angle downward. Shelby's penis was about the size of a man's thumb, no longer, 
no thicker, and no less unyielding. 

"It's going to real hard for you to pee through that stiff little pecker 
of yours, boy," Matt said crudely.

Shelby's serious look changed to a shy smile. His fingers pushed forward 
and he gripped his rounded red knob between them. He squeezed down, his eyes 
half-closing as he tried to force his urine from his bladder. They waited, and 
waited, and waited. Obviously, Shelby had never tried to urinate when he was 
erect. It was not impossible, but it certainly was difficult. Finally a little 
yellow dribble appeared and splashed onto the rocks directly below. He 
smiled triumphantly and strained inside again to increase the flow. The 
dribble faded, stopped, then started again. The stream started, gathered 
momentum as it arced away from his penis, then slowly withered to a few 
scattered droplets which he shook away from the continuing stiffness.

Matt took a deep breath. It had been one of the most erotic things he 
had ever seen. His heart was pounding at a fearful rate. Little could 
compare to the sight of a beautiful boy with his pants halfway down his 
thighs. There in the woods, amid the reddened hues of late afternoon, he had 
come to desire Shelby in a way that was socially unacceptable. He could not 
turn back despite his growing despair.

The sweat pants came back up far too quickly for Matt's liking. It was 
as if the boy suddenly realized that he had crossed into forbidden 
territory. The object of his father's raging lust vanished even faster than it 
had appeared.

Matt nudged Nixon forward until he came up beside the boy. For the 
second time he lifted him up and placed him in the saddle. His own erection 
poked the child in the back again. Shelby pushed back, giving the impression 
that he was finding a more comfortable position, but they both knew otherwise. 
Again Matt placed his arms around the narrow chest and then thought the better 
of it. He lowered one arm, locking around Shelby's skinny waist, and pulled 
the warm young body hard against him.

"That's really a stiff little thing you got down there, Shelby," Matt 
added pointedly. "It looked like it might snap right off when you were 
tryin' to piss."

But Shelby did not reply and casually, almost accidently, his father's 
hand eased forward onto his thigh. Matt caressed him for a moment and then 
lifted up to follow the folds in the sweat pants. Under the soft material Matt 
felt the hot firmness of a very small but still very erect sex organ. Lovingly 
he grazed its sensitive tip and gently pressed it downward. It sprang back, 
resilient and hungry for more. His finger tips encircled Shelby's tiny glans 
and began to massage it.

"Da?"

"Yeah, Shelby?"

"Uh,.... nothing."

"Do you want me to stop?"

"It's okay. I can feel yours in my back," Shelby announced proudly. "You 
have a stiffie too, don't you Da? If feels so big....Uh,... is it 
because,... because you're gay?"

"It's not that much bigger than what most men have. That doesn't mean 
you'll have a big one," Matt suggested. "Does it bother you?"

He knew the answer before he asked the question. The way Shelby wriggled 
back and compressed against his lower belly could only mean one thing. 
Shelby liked the feel of the hardness pressing into him. For that matter, Matt 
liked it too.

Shelby shook his head slightly. "No! I don't mind. You feel really big," 
he repeated.

Was there a trace of envy in his voice or was it simply a matter of 
nerves? Matt suspected envy. It was only natural. From the all-too-brief 
glimpse that Matt had of his son's penis, he was confident that Shelby was not 
built like him but took after his mother's side of the family. Navajo men were 
not well-endowed in his opinion. When he was adult-sized Shelby probably would 
be no larger than most boys in their mid teens. However, that deficiency did 
not bother him. On the contrary, for some men it would add to Shelby's 
allure if he was gay. However, for Shelby, his small sex organ would become 
a constant source of embarrassment as he grew up. Still, Matt reserved 
judgement. Only time and puberty would tell how large the boy would become 
when he was older. He hoped Shelby lived up to his expectations for he had 
never been one to appreciate big tools, except his own.

His fingers continued to gently massage Shelby's penis. Each time as the 
youngster came closer to the edge, his body tensed. His legs gripped the 
saddle as if trying to increase the pressure inside his body enough to force 
some milky fluid out. But seminal release was impossible for the almost ten-
year-old boy and for now, with the distraction of being on the horse, even a 
still-dry orgasm evaded him. Matt promised himself that later on, in the 
secure privacy of his house, he would see to it that Shelby experienced that 
ultimate pleasure of a boy's body. Until then, he contented himself with 
alternating between gentle stimulation that served to reassure the boy that it 
was not only pleasurable but entirely appropriate for him to touch his 
penis, and loving manipulation to satisfy his own deep-seated longing. 
Either way, it was fun.

Nothing more was said until they were in sight of the house. By then 
Matt had extracted every delight possible from Shelby's penis short of 
bringing him to climax. What he liked more than anything, if his low moans 
were a guide, was for Matt to pinch the swollen head lightly between his 
fingers. After a minute of two of that Shelby would shudder and Matt would 
stop to fondle the delicate boy-cock with carefully administered caresses.

As Nixon began to trot the last hundred yards to the barn, Matt 
stopped fondling the rigid member. Enough was enough. He enfolded Shelby's 
torso again and hugged him with more passion that he had ever felt with 
another person. Their bodies seemed to lock together as Matt nuzzled the 
youngster's unruly dark hair.

"Da?" he whispered softly. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shelby, you can always ask me a question. What is it?"

The boy hesitated as if something needed to be said, but he could not 
find the words. He settled for a delay. "Nah, it's okay."

Shelby slipped his left leg up over the saddle and slid to the ground 
without assistance. He grinned up at his father. For the time being the 
spell was broken. They were father and son again and the intimacy they had 
shared was nothing more than a fond memory. What was more, Matt 
instinctively knew that he could trust Shelby to keep this secret even from 
his brother. 

"Thanks for the ride home," he repeated absently. "It was nice, Da." 

"You're welcome, Shel'. It was a pleasure. I thought you wanted to ask 
me a question?"

"It can wait till later."

Matt dismounted and led Nixon into the barn. Shelby trailed behind. In 
the space of a few minutes Shelby had taken another step on the path to 
manhood. It seemed that neither of them could not find the words they needed 
to say. Matt longed to tell his son what he wanted to say more than anything 
else. He hesitated, considering. Then as Matt turned to look at his son, the 
moment had passed and Shelby glanced away sulkily. Matt unsaddled the horse, 
put out some oats, and closed the stall. For ten long minutes as they finished 
the day's chores in the barn neither of them spoke. The silence was 
deafening as Matt waited for Shelby to say what he could not. After all, 
what did one say to a gay boy after you've played with his dick for the second 
time? Thank you?

Shelby lagged behind as Matt walked back to the house. He had never 
thought of his son as a moody child. Perhaps it was a natural reaction to 
his sexual experience? It had been very different after the time in the 
corral, but it had not been as openly sexual. He could not remember his own 
feelings after his own first time with a man much beyond an incredible and 
overwhelming excitement. Had he been moody and consumed by guilt?

Before he reached the verandah Matt stopped and turned around. He waited 
patiently for Shelby to come up. He stood a few feet away, his head down 
guiltily as he stared at the dust under his feet.

"You're very good-looking Shel',... and very sexy,... for a ten-year-old 
boy," Matt said quietly as much to himself as to his son. "And I hope you're 
gay, Shelby," he added gently.

He paused and allowed his words to sink in. He wanted Shelby to know 
that he had been aroused only because of him. For one thing it would be good 
for his son's ego and self esteem; for another, it was the truth.

Shelby winced as the words struck home. "Yeah, right!" he grunted 
angrily. "Nobody likes a queer!"

"Up here on the mesa, do you think it really matters what you are son?"

"Yeah! " Shelby retorted hotly. "Being part Indian is bad enough, but 
being gay is even worse."

"I am,... you know I'm gay,... and,... and I want you to know that I,... 
I like you the way you are. In fact, Shelby, I'd love nothing more than for 
you to be like me, so there."

He wondered what Shelby would think at his open acknowledgment that both 
of them were gay. Shelby swallowed and his lips pressed together as if he 
was still desperately trying to avoid saying what he wanted to say. With all 
his heart Matt wanted Shelby to say that he was gay too, but the boy was 
frightened. He was frightened just as Matt had been frightened when he took 
his first awkward steps into a man's welcoming embrace. Perhaps a psychologist 
would argue that Matt had exceeded the line between comforting his son and 
trying to seduce him, however he had the best of intentions. After a few 
seconds, Shelby shrugged and began to walk. Matt followed him as he led the 
way into the house. Although he did not know it at the time, Shelby had not 
rejected him, instead he had simply postponed the confrontation that loomed 
ahead because he was frightened.


CHAPTER 6. BOY IN THE BATH

For the rest of the afternoon, at least for the hour that was left 
before the sun dropped below the hills, Shelby continued to sulk. Matt let him 
be. The boy had suffered enough for one day and with time, he would 
gradually come to accept the truth of what they both knew to be true. Matt's 
own mood was not particularly pleasant either. As he brooded in front of the 
television and watched the live telecast from Denver, he continued to ponder 
what lay before him. He was attracted to Shelby, physically, emotionally, 
and sexually. That much he had come to realize for the first time that 
afternoon, although some dim recognition of his feelings for his son had 
existed from a time when he was much younger.

As the last golden rays penetrated the living room and danced across the 
wood floor Matt began to feel very sad. Shelby was reaching the most wonderful 
stage of his life and now he was also exposed to the most pain that he would 
ever feel. Matt knew the feelings well. He had been dragged in two 
directions as he sought to satisfy his father's strict ideals while at the 
same time, satisfying a need that was disgusting and socially deplorable.

The thick rug on the hearth held Matt's attention. With little 
difficulty he could imagine Shelby lying there before a blazing fire. He would 
be naked and his bare skin would be ruddy from the heat of the flames. His 
body would be hot, nearly as hot as his young passion. He imagined kissing 
Shelby's perfectly shaped mouth, tasting his sweet lips, and sucking his soft, 
wriggling tongue. Matt dreamed of his son, as eager and aroused as he was, 
lying down and with outstretched arms, offering his slender, virgin body. 
For the first time Matt fantasized about making love to Shelby.

It had been no different for Matt when he was a boy. The act of love 
between a man and a boy which society found so repugnant, was in reality, 
the most joyful experience that two people could share. So many years of his 
life had been wasted as he tried to meet other people's expectations of him. 
Then, when he finally had the freedom to do what he wanted, he was no longer a 
boy. After Charro, for several long years he was too scared to do what he 
really wanted.

"Da?"

Matt twisted around at the sudden interruption to his train of 
thought. He had not heard Shelby approach. He was still dressed in his sweats, 
and now without his socks, he walked without making a sound. Matt smiled, 
happy that Shelby had finally come back to him. Perhaps the dream would be 
more than mere imagination.

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you the question now?" he asked uncertainly. "You don't 
have to answer,... unless you want to."

"Don't tell me you're hungry again, Shelby. There's some bird left 
that you didn't finish," Matt teased as he remembered how much of the 
chicken they had eaten earlier in the day.

Shelby smiled weakly. "Na! Not that! I'm not hungry yet. It's 
about,... well, it's about what you said earlier."

Matt sat up attentively. "Okay, fire away!"

"What you s-s-said about me earlier, Da,... that I-I-I was s-s-
sexy,...."

"Yes," Matt prompted cautiously.

Shelby hesitated. Matt watched his little barely formed Adam's apple bob 
nervously in his slender neck as he swallowed.

"You want to know if I meant it?" he prompted. Shelby nodded as he 
took the bait. "Of course I meant it. You are sexy. In fact you're an 
incredibly sexy boy."

"You're not k-k-kidding me?" Shelby queried awkwardly.

"I'm not kidding you. You're not only the most attractive boy I ever 
saw, but you're also very sexy, Shel'. It's a dangerous combination at your 
age."

Again, Matt left the obvious unstated. Did he need to tell Shelby that 
he turned him on like no other person had managed to do, not even his 
mother? He wondered whether he should say more. More than anything Matt wanted 
to tell Shelby that he loved him enough to want to make love to him. He held 
his words back and regretted it instantly.

"Why?" Shelby asked with difficulty. "Why is it dangerous?"

"Because! Well,... for one thing because of what that man said to you 
today, that's why, Shel'. You need to be careful, even in these parts. There 
are men around who would be friends with you just so they could be close to 
you."

Shelby thought for a few seconds. "Because,... men only want sex. That's 
what Mom says. Only I'm a boy, so,... well I guess I really don't understand."

Matt smiled. Even though she had been gone for as long as he cared to 
remember, she still polluted her sons when they visited the reservation. "Some 
men want to have sex with boys. I think that man today,... no I'm sure he 
wanted to have sex with you. He might have forced you if I wasn't there. There 
are a lot of men around like him. A boy has to be careful at your age."

Shelby studied his feet. "What we did on the way home, Da,.... Doesn't 
that mean that you want to have sex with me," he suggested hesitantly.

Despite his hesitation, his voice was matter-of-fact. His response was 
not framed as a question. He knew he was right. Matt took a deep breath and 
nodded. He had not wanted it to start like this. Not now when he was worried 
about losing the farm. At some point he would have to face the repercussions 
of illicit sex with a boy who was more than five years away from legal age, 
but not now. And yet he instinctively knew that he could trust Shelby to 
keep a secret just as he kept his own desires hidden from the world around 
him. Life on the mesa imbued trust.

He swallowed, half closed his eyes, and spoke honestly. "I love you, 
Shel'..... I love you not only as my son. I love you the way a person loves 
someone when they fall in love. I think we need each other more than we know."

Shelby's expression clearly indicated his shock. However, knowing the 
environment in which he had grown up, Matt should not have been surprised. For 
several years, the only true love that Shelby received was what Matt gave him. 
Suddenly his father had become more than friend and confidant. The words 
burned his ears. The man before him had replaced his father, a man who was too 
guiltily aware of his own sexual aberration to take advantage of him. Shelby 
was unable to speak and reveal his own feelings.

"I think about you all the time," Matt added. He gazed at the 
uncertain boy and worried that he was going too far, too fast. "But it's not 
the way that an father is supposed to think about his son. I feel this way 
because,... well because,... I guess because I get lonely here on the mesa."

"You want to have sex with me," Shelby finished quietly. This time his 
intonation conveyed the question. It was as an expression of curiosity as much 
as an invitation.

Shelby was not what might be called a precocious child. Certainly, he 
was above average in intelligence, and life on the mesa tended to promote an 
emotional maturity that was beyond his intellectual age. However, he was 
also honest and forthright. Despite the divorce, the lies and deception that 
had been a constant part of the years before his mother departed had no 
place in Shelby's life. His eyes were large and full of radiant innocence that 
conveyed his inner thoughts as clearly as if he had spoken them aloud.

Like an avalanche gathering momentum as it crashed down the rocky 
walls of the mesa, father and son could not back away again from what raced 
before them. Without understanding more than he needed to, Shelby was 
offering, agreeing, accepting. Both man and boy exchanged a longing look 
that told of their deep-down desires.

"I think about you too," he whispered. "I know it's wrong, Da."

"It's not wrong to love someone, Shelby."

Shelby's bottom lip pulled inwards and the tip of his tongue came out to 
lick. It pressed up to his upper lip and moved slowly back and forth. It was a 
thoughtful and deliberate gesture. Although unpracticed, it was also 
surprisingly sensuous. His tongue reappeared again, this time caressing his 
lower lip as if readying himself to be kissed. He watched his father though 
big dark eyes, waiting. He was the essence of childhood purity tainted by 
juvenile lust. Matt smiled as reassuringly as he could, and Shelby smiled 
shyly, knowingly. They had been approaching this moment for a long, long time. 
The events of the last few months had built up to the inevitable conclusion, 
today being merely one more one step along the way.

Matt stood up and took several steps towards the boy. It was only when 
he was arm's length from him that he stopped. If he lifted him up in his 
arms and carried him into the bedroom he expected there would be no complaint. 
In the silence Shelby was telling him what he wanted. Endless possibilities 
opened before Matt, each more exciting and fulfilling than his earlier 
thoughts of making love to Shelby in front of the fire. The child quivered 
with rapidly building stress, becoming very tense. Matt had never seen him 
so nervous. His eyes flickered, suddenly avoiding his father's steady gaze.

"Do you want to soak in the bath for a while, Shelby?" Matt asked. 
"It'll feel good and it helps to get clean and ease the stiffness. I'm stiff 
and I'm sure you are too."

He did not intend to imply that either of them was sexually aroused, 
however they both were and there was no reason why he should not be open about 
it. There was nothing to be ashamed about. He was as hard as he had ever 
been and the was an abrupt bulge, albeit quite small, in the center of 
Shelby's lithe frame that indicated the source of his nervousness. The boy 
blushed like a virgin and nodded slowly. Finally his eyes came back to meet 
his father's steady gaze. He was so beautiful that Matt wanted to scoop him up 
and hug and kiss him until they were no longer afraid of what lay before them.

"I bet your legs are aching from all that walking you did today," Matt 
said as he tried to cover himself. He grinned. "I know I am, and I rode the 
whole way down there instead of hiking."

"Together?" Shelby asked.

Matt nodded. "We're both feeling pretty stiff aren't we?"

Shelby grinned again, happily.



Over the noise of the water splashing in the old-fashioned cast iron 
bath tub, neither Shelby nor Matt heard the Jeep approach the house. Matt's 
mind was on other things for Shelby had become increasingly uninhibited as 
he grew accustomed to being naked. For nearly fifteen minutes Matt did not 
touch his son in the one place where he longed to touch him. However, the 
opportunity continually presented itself as they rolled around like two 
carefree dolphins. Long wonderful minutes passed as the luke warm water cooled 
their bodies and heated their desires. The fun really started when Shelby 
splashed water. The water fight was a beginning point for what naturally 
followed. It was something that they both wanted and instigating the splashing 
battle was merely a boy's way of starting something that he did not fully 
understand, but was entirely predisposed to. They both needed physical 
contact, but they both were reluctant to take the first step that would 
bring them together. Incest is a powerful barrier to loving someone.

Of course Matt retaliated exactly as he was supposed to. He sent 
another, much bigger wave of water directly at Shelby's face. The youngster 
giggled hysterically as he darted back. If Matt had not moved to the side he 
would have been hit directly in the face with half a gallon that was 
returned instantaneously. He growled menacingly and adopted a pose that 
suggested not only was Shelby about to be attacked, but that there was 
little he could do to defend himself except sue for peace. Shelby smirked 
and raised his hand, then again without warning brought it crashing into the 
water. This time Matt was unprepared and water leaped upwards and into his 
eyes. Now, he wanted revenge. Actually, Matt wanted Shelby, revenge would come 
later. So with water cascading down his face, Matt grabbed the first part of 
his son that he could find. He got one thin, smooth arm. It was enough to keep 
Shelby from escaping.

The boy struggled valiantly, still splashing water furiously as he 
laughed uncontrollably. He was not the same boy from fifteen minutes 
earlier, the boy who was so nervous and lacking in self-confidence that he 
stammered as he asked whether his father thought he was 'really sexy'. Now 
he bubbled effervescently as he directed plume after plume onto and over his 
father. The floor was flooded in seconds. The only way for Matt to stop him 
was to grab his other hand, the one initiating the torrents of water.

Holding firmly on to both wrists, Matt allowed Shelby some movement. 
He could struggle as much as he wanted, but he could not inflict more damage 
unless he accidently kicked out. He wriggled and writhed valiantly, trying 
less to escape than to agitate their already excited bodies. Unlike the highly 
adaptable ten-year-old, Matt needed time to adjust to the change in their 
relationship and there was one way to stop his struggles. Matt lifted Shelby 
high into the water and dumped him down on top, wrapped a leg around his legs, 
and hugged him like an oversized teddy bear. It had the desired effect. Within 
a few seconds Shelby went limp.

They were both breathing hard and fast, both laughing from their 
exertions and the enjoyment of close bodily contact. However, with Shelby 
lying above his father it was no longer merely close contact. It was 
intimate and highly erotic. It was a mistake. Within seconds Matt's penis 
became absolutely rigid under Shelby's buttocks and neither of them needed 
to examine his body to find an identical condition. In those few seconds, as 
their playful game turned into intense sexual arousal, Matt felt a thrill 
unlike any that he had experienced before. As Shelby continued to wriggle 
his hips Matt teetered, balancing between social morality and animal lust. 
Lust won!

Shelby's movement had only one purpose. His buttocks deliberately worked 
against the man's erection, forcing it into the length of his deep crack where 
it was constrained by his firmly muscled cheeks. With caution ringing 
endlessly in his ears, Matt decided that Shelby had just given him carte 
blanche. Matt rationalized that it was Shelby's body to enjoy as he wanted, 
and if his son wanted his first truly sexual experience to be with a man, so 
be it. All thoughts of tempering his adult sex urge so that it was 
commensurate with the barely comprehended desires of a young boy, vanished. In 
this relationship Matt would be the teacher and his son would be the willing 
pupil, ever eager to experiment and discover his own body.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Shel'?" Matt asked urgently.

His penis felt as if it would explode at any second, so great was the 
stimulation provided by Shelby's writhing body. Shelby nodded abruptly, 
jerking his head savagely up and down in assent. He wanted what Matt wanted, 
and his father wanted to have sex with him. What happened next, happened 
very quickly. Matt's hands released the skinny wrists and his arms locked 
around Shelby's skinny abdomen in an embrace that was nearly strong enough 
to break his ribs. The boy groaned and pressed the side of his head into 
Matt's shoulder. With his left arm still wrapped possessively around the 
boy, Matt's right hand dropped down to cover his son's groin.

He had expected to find Shelby's penis as hard as his own, but he was 
unprepared to find Shelby's little sex organ so stiff that it was completely 
inflexible, it's smooth skin drum-tight. The foreskin was fully retracted 
and the stiffness was so great that it made the ridge of his glans flare 
out. Without even thinking, Matt compared its short, rigid length against 
his thumb. With his thumbnail grazing the boy's hairless pubis, it reached 
exactly to the second knuckle. It was most definitely a single finger and 
thumb job. Matt fingered the turgid little bulb and Shelby trembled with 
delight. He rolled the tiny helmet-shaped head, smaller than the smallest 
acorn that he had ever seen, between his fingers. Shelby's body trembled again 
and he sighed loudly. As Matt squeezed on the highly sensitive tip Shelby 
shuddered and groaned, pulled away, and then pushed back.

"Ohhhhh Yeahhhhhh!"

"It feels good, huh Shel'?"

"Yeah! It's good," Shelby gasped. He swallowed a lung-full of air and 
then lifted his hips up to force his throbbing sex harder into Matt's hand.

"You like this, huh?"

"You're making me tingle all over," he sighed.

"I can do a lot more than that. I can make you feel even better."

"I know. You can do whatever you want to with me, you know Da?"

"I know, Son. Hmmmmm,.... You're so hard. I love you!"

He lifted his hand away for the brief time that he needed to bring the 
sudden rush of passion back to idle. For a moment he caressed Shelby's flat 
abdomen and then, unable to hold himself back, his fingers settled back around 
the small penis again. This time his fingers scooped up the tiny testicles and 
massaged the delicate web of fine vessels inside the silk-like skin. Matt 
was so used to his own massive eggs that Shelby's tiny jelly-bean-sized 
balls were difficult to find. He chased them around the pouch, pursuing them 
from one side to another as they escaped his clumsy fingers. Perhaps he was 
being too cautious as he tried hard to avoid causing Shelby any discomfort 
because deep inside he hoped that later on, perhaps even later that night, 
he might be responsible for inflicting grievous, albeit temporary pain. He 
wanted to be deep inside Shelby's body more than he could stand. He wanted 
to feel the child's tight anus gripping his penis. He wanted to hear 
Shelby's cries of passion as he moved back and forth, fucking the virgin ass 
until the boy weakened and surrendered his innocence.

As they became calm and their hearts slowed to something approaching 
normalcy, Matt began to masturbate his son. Shelby lay absolutely still, as if 
his slightest movement might disrupt the sensations that flowed from the 
gently moving hand as it rubbed along his all-too-short length of boy-cock. 
The house was filled with an eery silence. Matt's thoughts were so devoted 
to Shelby's pleasure that he heard only his ragged breathing and soft whimpers 
of unbounded joy. Neither of them heard the footsteps as they came through the 
front room, past the bedroom and into the bathroom.

"Do it faster, please," Shelby instructed huskily. Matt increased the 
rate at which he rubbed up and down on the delicate member. Time stopped as 
the young boy began to strain upwards, building towards a peak that seemed 
just out of reach. His body bowed and his genitals lifted out of the water. 
The hand moved rapidly, strong fingers jerking swiftly over his distended 
shaft. His mouth opened as he gasped feverishly. He was getting close. 
Matt's wrist ached but he kept the pace up. From his earlier experience, he 
knew that his ten-year-old son was perfectly capable of orgasm even though 
he was still a long time away from ejaculation. From the size of his sex 
organs and the complete absence of pubic hair he expected Shelby's climax 
would be dry for several years to come. It was a magical moment as Matt 
brought him to the pinnacle of excitement.

 "Yeah, like that's so cool. Ohhhh,.... hold him tighter,.... Oh! Da! 
Faster! Oh God!"

Shelby vocalized his body's sensations so accurately that his father 
heard as well as felt his sudden all-too-brief orgasm as it burst from his 
loins. There was a single vicious shudder and the boy lurched upwards before 
collapsing onto Matt. He panted loudly and his knees drew up protectively to 
cover his sex organs and prevent Matt's hand from continued movement on his 
tortured member.


CHAPTER 8. BOY IN THE BED

They clapped, a sound that interrupted the bliss of orgasm. Loud, slow 
claps that echoed through the tiled bathroom, signalled their presence. The 
fearful knowledge that someone was standing behind them and watching, came. 
And with it, there was a sense of disbelief and desperation. With Shelby still 
in the fading stage of sexual arousal, Matt's head turned first. They stood 
side by side and they stared at the man and boy lying together in the bath 
tub. Recognition was immediate. It was Tyler and Juan, dressed alike in 
designer jeans and faded jackets without shirts. Denim jackets adorned with 
cloth patches and studs, opened to reveal bare chests, both still pale and 
smooth. Behind them, Max Benson looked on in crude enjoyment.

"I think we found us a couple of queers, boys," Benton laughed. "Looks 
like Matt's has been giving Shelby a real good time while we've been gone 
there last couple of weeks. Personally I can't blame him. He's god-damn cute 
and here's nothing quite like pulling on a kid's dick."

"The kid's got a tiny dick, ain't he?" Tyler teased. "Shit, I ain't seen 
nothin' that little before."

"Jesus Christ!" Matt said angrily. "What in the hell are you guys 
doing here. Did you ever think of knocking first. Jesus, you scared the shit 
outta me!"

Benton chuckled. Matt watched as the man's fingers rubbed his chin 
thoughtfully, his eyes fixed directly at the bath tub, at Matt and Shelby. 
He waited for several seconds before he spoke.

"I'm sorry Matt. I didn't mean to barge in here unannounced. We did 
knock. I thought no one was home." Benton paused, his eyes not leaving Matt 
and Shelby. "I've got to lose these guys for a while, Matt. I had some 
problems when I got back to Salt Lake." 

Matt glared back, feeling uncomfortably exposed in the bath tub, his 
erection undaunted by the interruption but fortunately concealed under 
Shelby's buttocks and lower back. "Problems like what?" he demanded. 

"One of my interfering neighbors saw Tyler getting his ass screwed by 
Juan one night last week. The boys left the damned curtains open in the living 
room. The dumbass saw everything. I remembered what we talked about. About 
my boys coming here with you." 

"It's different now, Max. I have problems of my own. I couldn't get 
the loan extended." 

"The bank's still taking the ranch, huh? That's a fucking shame. This is 
a god damn beautiful spot up here." 

Matt nodded. "I'll probably get a little somethin' back after the bank 
takes its cut from the auction. We have to be out real soon. I thinkin' 
we'll move to Albuquerque."

 Benton chuckled, his vast belly vibrating with peals of laughter. 
"You needed how much? Thirty or forty K wasn't it? I can help." 

"And if you do, what do you get back?" Matt asked suspiciously. 

Benton smirked. "Oh, I think you'll enjoy it. First, you have to take 
these two in with you. You oughta be paying me instead," he joked. 

"I don't want charity, Max. The Cassidy's have never taken a dime 
without workin' for it."

"Think of it as payment for their room and board."

Matt nodded. "What else?" 

"Well, it looks to me like your kid is about old enough to his ass 
reamed. You're going to fix it for him. Little Shelby won't shit right for a 
week, but if he isn't queer already, he will be when you're done with his 
fuck-hole. After a few times with you I reckon he'll be fair game for man 
who wants some boy butt."

"Get out, NOW!" Matt ordered.

"Shut the fuck up, Matt! You've got nothing to lose and everything to 
gain. We both know it. This is your only chance to keep the ranch!"

Matt glared back at Benton, thinking quickly. But there was nothing that 
he could do to stop the bank from taking the Bar None and Benton was fully 
aware of it. The only hope lay in agreeing to Benton's proposition.

"I can walk out of here right now, Matt, if that's what you want, or you 
can do what I say and maybe see another sunrise from your bedroom. It's 
totally up to you."

"You're lower than a snake, Max,"

Max smirked. "Don't get righteous, Matt. You were playin' with his 
dick a few minutes ago. Unless I'm mistaken you already know your kid has a 
thing for guys. Did you know he's already started messin' around with guys? He 
let Juan blow him and the way Juan tells it, ol' Shelby is a pretty fair 
cocksucker himself."

Matt glanced at Shelby, hoping for a heated denial. Shelby's head hung 
low in ever-increasing shame.

"Any way you look at it you can't lose, Matt. Sooner or later your kid's 
ass is going to be fucked and there's nothin' you or anyone else can do 
'bout it. This way it's done good and proper and you know he's safe."

He was right and Matt knew he needed to do say something before Benton 
walked out. "Max, if I agree, and my answer depends on what Shelby wants, what 
do you want us to do?"

Max smiled as he looked down into the bath-tub. The half-Indian boy 
was beautiful even as he clasped his legs against his chest and tried to 
hide his body. He was young and hairless, his slender yet well muscled body 
like one of the many deer they had seen in the canyon.

"Like I said, Matt, you've got a boy who's not only old enough for 
some ass sex, he's interested. Maybe not all the way yet, but he will in time. 
I know the type, believe me. I want to watch it. I've always had a thing for 
virgin cherries. You won't even know I'm there. Then there's my two. They need 
somewhere to live for a few years. They can learn to work, help you take 
care of the  ranch, whatever you want."

"If I agree, how much?"

"You owe forty thousand right. I'll give you a check for fifty as soon 
as you've got Shelby's cherry. I'll pay you another ten grand each year for 
keeping Juan and Ty."

"Get out of the bath, Shel'," Matt instructed. He eased Shelby away 
and stood up, towering over the frightened youngster as he cringed in the 
water. "It's okay! You can get up! There's nothing to be scared about."

"W-w-what are you g-g-going to d-d-do to me?" Shelby stammered. 

He was almost incoherent as he glared at Juan. He had trusted Juan to 
keep their rendevouz secret. Strangely, he could still taste the older boy's 
semen. He felt both uncertain and excited, as if the rest of his life depended 
on what happened next. He had changed during the last few weeks. His mind 
dwelled on his experiences. Now he wanted to do more than merely repeat them.

"I think you know the answer to your question, Shelby. I'm going to make 
love to you. I reckon it would have happened sooner or later anyway. Maybe 
even sometime tonight. I can't be sure, but I think it's what you want as 
well. You don't have to, however you already said we should try everything 
to keep the ranch." Matt looked at Benton guiltily. "Everything will be all-
right if you do what they want. He'll give us the money. There's one thing 
though, Shel. I want you to understand it's okay with me if you say no. "

It was the solution and both of them knew it. It was their sole hope for 
survival. Matt reached down and took Shelby's hand. Slowly he lifted his son 
up and out of the water. The thin young body was wrinkled from spending nearly 
twenty minutes in the bath and he shivered slightly as the water drained 
from him. Finally he looked up to confront Juan and Tyler. Benton stared at 
Shelby, his eyes travelling up and down the slender, naked body before 
coming to rest on his groin. Under his gaze, Shelby's short penis shrivelled 
and retracted further into his body. It was very small, so small that he 
appeared almost sexless. It was very different to the short, rigid organ 
that Matt had been frantically rubbing only minutes earlier as Shelby 
writhed on top of him.

"Let's take him in the bedroom," Benton suggested cockily. "He's way too 
way short to do it standing up."

Juan smirked as he watched Shelby wilt. He was an attractive boy with 
a splendid body and showed the beginnings of a sexual appetite that was strong 
enough to keep him very busy. 

"Looks to me like they were getting ready to go in there anyway," he 
laughed as he gestured towards the open doorway that led to the only bedroom 
in the house.

"That's really funny," Benton snickered. "First you bring the kid in 
here and get him all hot and horny while he gets cleaned up, and then you only 
have a dozen feet to take him to bed. I like it. In fact, I like the place 
so much I think I come back and visit Juan and Tyler for a few days every 
month." 

He looked at the two older boys and smirked with a crude knowing 
expression. Then he turned back to Matt, ready to convey his next torment.

"I guess if your kid's going to lose his cherry he couldn't have a 
better place to do it in. There's no one around to hear him squeal when he 
takes your cock all the way up his tight little chute, is there? And he's 
going to be tight, I bet. He'll probably scream his head off before he 
starts begging for more. And believe me, he will, Matt. He will, all boys do 
you know. Even a straight kid doesn't mind a cock in his ass once he's had 
some practice, but a boy queer? They live to be fucked."

Matt ignored his barbs. He would do what was necessary to keep the 
ranch. Benton could take whatever he wanted, not only Shelby's innocence but 
Shane's as well. To Matt, the most precious things in his life were his two 
sons and he felt sick inside as he realized that there was nothing that he 
wanted to do to stop what seemed to be inevitable. He wondered whether he 
would regret his acquiescence.

"Let's all go to the bedroom," Benton suggested with a lewd smile at 
Shelby.

Matt breathed out in a long frustrated sigh. He stalled. "Can't we at 
least get dried off first?"

Benton laughed. "Shelby will dry off fast enough once you get started in 
his ass. He isn't going to be cold for long. Not with what he's got coming. 
The real work is your job. Yeah, the kid's got it coming all right. Lots of 
cum, right up his little virgin asshole."

Matt placed his arm comfortingly around Shelby's shoulders and guided 
the slender boy into the bedroom. 

 Benton laughed. "You have to trust me, Matt. I've been interested in 
the boys since I was a boy myself. You might even say I'm something of an 
expert on queer kids. I know all the signs. I spotted your two as soon as I 
was conscious."

"My two boys?" Matt asked. 

"Sure, Shelby's like fast food, he's ready to go. And little Shane? I 
guess you didn't know that he got Tyler to jerk off with him. They're both 
going to be queers. After your kid here has had his ass plowed by a few times, 
I bet he'll want it all the time. Hell, he'll probably want you to do it every 
chance he gets. And your other boy wont' be all that far behind, I bet."

"That's enough!" Matt stopped and turned to face the other man. "Don't 
rub salt in it, okay! You know we need money. Just get it over with. Have your 
fun by watching us if you have to, but leave us alone."

"Leave you alone? Hardly! The kid's cherry is worth a maybe a couple 
of thousand at most. I'm talking about a lot more than fifty, enough to pay 
what you owe the bank in interest, maybe enough to pay off the entire mortgage 
if you do what I say. But that's only the start. By the time you're done 
with him, he'll be fuckin' his pretty little head off. With luck, maybe your 
kid will turn out like young Tyler. He has the horniest ass I've ever seen. He 
can't get it in his butt enough. Juan must fuck the crap out of his ass a 
couple of times a day and he still begs for more."

He gestured Matt forward and they entered the bedroom. Shelby and Matt 
stopped beside the queen-sized bed. It was still unmade from the night 
before and three long pillows lay in a pile where they had been left after the 
morning pillow fight. Whenever Shane stayed overnight at the reservation 
Shelby slept in Matt's room. That morning had been a riot as they wrestled and 
tumbled over the huge bed. Matt had been as hard as steel the entire time 
and it was all he could do to restrain himself from ripping Shelby's 
underpants off as they struggled together, if only to see how Shelby 
responded. He was certain that his eldest son was similarly aroused if the 
small inflexible tent in his crotch was anything to judge by.

"Nice big bed!" Benton said admiringly. "But your kid might bleed on 
those sheets of yours when your cock first goes into his tight little ass. 
Maybe you outta strip the bed first unless you don't mind some cherry stain."

"Why don't you leave him alone, Max. There's no need to torment him. 
He really doesn't want to do this."

"Are you sure of that, Matt? He sucked Juan and swallowed the first 
time. Do you really know what he wants?"

"It's the end of the line for us. All Shelby's doing is what any kid 
would do to keep what he loves," Matt said apologetically. "He's just a dumb 
kid trying to do what he thinks is the right thing."

"You really believe that?" Benton smiled. "You really think he doesn't 
want to have sex with you! He's got queer written all over him. You should 
have seen his face when you were jackin' him. He wanted it so bad."

"For Christ's sake, Max," Matt retorted. "He's a kid. He really 
doesn't know what he wants."

"Why don't you ask him about what happened in the barn, Matt. He deep-
throated Juan. Hell, Tyler's only just started doing that. In fact, I'm 
surprised he still has his cherry, even way up here, because he's awfully cute 
and damn sexy. That's a great combo, and he's gay to boot."

"Max, I hear you."

"He's a lucky one, if you ask me. After you're done with his ass, you're 
going to thank me. I can't believe I'm paying you for fuckin' him. Break him 
in real good and he'll awlays be hungry for you. If I'm any judge of boys, 
Shelby'll be begging to be fucked every chance he gets." 

"Yeah? Well I'm sure we'll both thank you a lot," Matt snarled. "Why 
don't you,..."

His voice trailed off. Shelby's thin body shook slightly as he slowly 
walked to the bed and turned his back to his father. He looked resolutely back 
at the other boys. The outcome was certain, no matter whether Matt was happy 
about it or not, Shelby was going to have sex with him. It was going to happen 
anyway,  the way things had been going perhaps as soon as they got out of 
the bath. Matt had no option except to watch Shelby ease onto the bed and 
lie down. Benton grinned triumphantly and stepped forward to the brass rail of 
the foot of the 100-year-old bed.

"Tyler go look in the bathroom for some lube. I'll bet the farm this 
kid's got a real tight ass."

Matt sighed. "There isn't anything like that in there," he said weakly.

"Then get something from the kitchen. Anything greasy will do the job. 
Bring some Crisco or something oily for cooking," Benton continued.

Matt looked away from Shelby. He was about to be sick. He was going to 
sell him out. He tried to tell himself that he was making a homosexual out 
of the proud beautiful boy because it was the only way to save the Bar None. 
It was a lie. He was doing this because he wanted to, because it was what 
Shelby wanted.

"There's some vaseline in the drawer," he acknowledged as he gestured 
towards the chest.

Benton nodded and Tyler walked to the other side of the bed. He opened 
the dresser drawer and laughed as soon as he looked inside.

"Hey, this is wild, Juan. You weren't wrong when you said you thought he 
was gay. Man, you oughta see what he's got stashed in here."

He reached down and pulled out a half-used jar of vaseline and tossed it 
onto the bed. But there was more than vaseline in the drawer. At the bottom of 
the drawer there were three magazines that Matt had acquired on a trip to 
Mexico several years earlier. He lifted them out and held them up for the 
others to see.

"Well, well, well! It looks as if you like teen-boy magazines, huh?" 
Benton laughed. "I wouldn't have thought you were the type. Like Juan, I had 
you pegged as being gay, but I had no idea that boys were your thing. 
Personally, dick hair on a boy does nothin' for me, but it takes all types. 
Does your kid know what you jack off with?"

"You really are something else," Matt growled.

Benton laughed. "Why don't you grease him up while Juan and Tyler get 
naked? I'm going to look at these. Man, look at the dick on this Mexican 
kid. I bet you'd like to suck on that, huh? I know I sure would if he was a 
few years younger. But no mind, you'll be sucking on another kid's dick in a 
few minutes, won't you?"

There was nothing that Matt could say or do to avoid the inevitable. A 
contract was a contract, but the mere thought of preparing Shelby's tender 
body for the depravity that was going to occur was more than he could stand. 
He fumed and glared silently at Benton, at the same time watching from the 
corner of his eye as the two youths began to undress. His thoughts of 
revenge were quickly and savagely interrupted as Tyler began to remove his 
jeans. He was a handsome boy with a body that was clearly the equal of any boy 
in the magazines that Benton was perusing.

"You better get his butt-hole ready for action," Benton said crudely. 
"It can hurt a bit the first time."

"It only hurts like hell the first time," Tyler smirked. "After that 
it's only bad if the other guy's impatient or when they're 'specially horny!"

Matt did not move. The jar of vaseline lay several inches from his 
hand but he still could not muster the courage to lift it up and do what he 
had been asked to do. Benton came closer to the bed. Matt turned towards 
him, realizing that although this might be their only chance, the price was 
too high. Matt tensed, ready to stop what was happening, but even as he 
readied himself to speak, Benton's hand came forward. His eyes narrowed as 
he gently ran his hand across Shelby's smooth brown abdomen. Matt heard the 
soft sigh as air was expelled from the boy's chest, watched in dismay as the 
other hand floated down, waited for Shelby's moan as his immature genitals 
were expertly caressed. The hand stopped at his son's crotch, barely an inch 
from his sex organs. Casually, deliberately, lovingly, it moved again until 
the fingers came to rest against the bottom of Shelby's still loose scrotum. 
Matt's despair was overpowering. Shelby's eyes close as his mouth opened in 
expectation of pleasure. He groaned in ecstasy despite the fact that 
Benton's hand was barely touching him.

"You like that huh? I haven't even touched you, yet!" Benton smirked. 
"Now, Matt, we can do this my way or yours. With my way, your kid gets 
fucked and I get to watch. If you want, you can leave and go watch the game on 
tv and one of my boys does it. Either way he still gets fucked. Choose your 
pleasure!" 

Matt nodded slowly. "I'll stay." 

"Good choice! It'd be a shame for you to miss taking his cherry. A boy's 
only got one first time. Now grease him up and get him ready." Benton ordered. 
Matt nodded again. "If I was you I'd put a lot in his fuck-hole. Shelby's 
going need every bit of it before you're finished with him."

Matt reached out and picked up the jar. "I'm sorry Shelby, really I am," 
he mumbled. "I,... we,... well,... I have to, you know there's no choice, 
okay? The Bar None is all we've got."

"Juan told me how your boy really liked sucking him off. Did you know 
Shelby gives great blow-jobs? He hasn't sucked you yet, has he?" Benton 
taunted. "Some boys are like that. He needs sex like he needs food. Of course, 
you don't want to screw him too often while he's young because it's bad for 
the bowel movements, but a little ass-fucking just adds to the fun." 

With that, he squeezed his fingers into Shelby's small pouch and 
pulled up gently. The scrotal flesh was relaxed, an after effect of the time 
they had spent in the heated water of the bath. The silk-like skin stretched 
to the point of translucency, the delicate membrane supporting more than 
it's share of the boy's weight. With pleasure that came dangerously close to 
pain exploding in his testicles, Shelby's silent cry started. It continued 
until his entire body seemed to be filled with joy and injury was imminent. 
Strangely, it also felt unbelievably good, far better than anything he had 
experienced by masturbation or his single attempt at oral sex.

"That's enough Benton! Don't hurt him! Shelby,..." Matt said. "You don't 
have to do this. I don't want to hurt you,... I don't want to force you to 
do something you don't want. I want you to say no if you don't want me to do 
it."

He did not expect Shelby to answer. In fact, he did not know what he 
wanted Shelby to do. Deep inside he wanted his son to say or do something to 
show that he understood what was going to happen, and he was willing to do it. 
Shelby shook uncontrollably as he felt the sharp pain mixed with 
overwhelming joy that was expertly inflicted in his most private place. It 
felt like his manhood was threatened, just as it been in the corral. Then 
suddenly he realized that what he wanted deep inside was to be like his 
mother, to take her place in his father's bed. He nodded his head, 
assenting, urging his father to make love to him for the first time.

A single word penetrated into Matt's soul. He would never forget the 
sound that came from his son's lungs that late afternoon. Shelby's answer 
would stay with him forever. He dropped the jar of vaseline on the bed 
again. His hand was shaking and he could taste bile in his throat as his heart 
pounded. Benton glanced at him.

"See, he wants you to fuck him," Benton grinned. "He's not only a born 
cocksucker, he loves having his balls hurt! I was the same way. Man, I used to 
squeeze my nuts every chance I got. I could squash his little boy-balls to 
pulp right now if I squeezed too much. Is that what you want, Matt? Do you 
want me to fix him for good?"

"Shelby, hush," Matt pleaded. "Please listen to me. Shelby, you don't 
have this. I want you to tell me what you want, okay? If you say yes, 
Shel',... well I'm going to do put my penis in you and.... I don't want to 
do something you don't want. But, Shelby, if you say yes, I want you to want 
what I'm going to do."

His voice was trembling as much as Shelby's body. Matt had never been as 
unhappy as he was now. Slowly, Shelby nodded back, now silent and more ashamed 
than he had ever been before. The fingers, clamped so tightly around his 
tiny eggs released and the joy swiftly abated. They waited.

"I,.... want,... you,... to,.... fuck,.... me,.... Da!"

There, it was out and Shelby breathed a sigh of relief. Matt leaned 
forward and knelt down on the bed. 

"Are you sure, Shel'?"

Shelby nodded once. Matt dropped the jar of vaseline on the bed after 
taking off the lid and scooping a liberal quantity onto his fingers.

Max grinned crudely. "So lube the little fuck-hole, Matt. He ain't 
that big, but you don't want his ass dry when he loses his cherry."

As Matt pushed his finger through the amber jelly and  repositioned 
himself before the now compliant boy. Shelby's head was at the top of the 
bed with his hips lifted higher by two pillows which were placed under his 
back. Tyler held Shelby's legs over his head, pinning his knees near his 
shoulders. The young boy was immobile and presented like the wild turkey 
they had baked for Thanksgiving. His crack opened and Matt saw his son's 
tiny puckered opening for the first time since he was eight years old. 
Awkwardly, hesitantly, reluctantly, he brought his finger with its huge dollop 
of vaseline closer to Shelby's untouched anus.

The boy's cheeks parted and Matt touched the heat of his son's anus. 
Shelby felt as though he was hot enough to melt the vaseline. Matt stroked 
along the length of his crack as he tried to get the courage to do what needed 
to be done. Somehow he had to get as much as possible inside, and that would 
mean that he had already violated his son. He managed to push some into the 
tiny orifice by merely rubbing his finger along the length of his crack. The 
little node felt soft and alive, and very exposed. He also realized that 
Shelby's penis was very, very hard. He shuddered in disgust. And yet, as he 
continued to stare at the aroused boy, the idea was  extremely exciting to 
him. Quickly he added another large lump of vaseline to Shelby's anus, no 
longer feeling any disgust at trying to lubricate the child's rectum. He would 
need all of it before this was over. As Matt tried to push more inside, Shelby 
resisted his deeper entry. He succeeded only in smearing it into his crack 
as his tight hole fought against the entry of the finger. Matt silently willed 
him to relax but to no avail.  "Try to relax, Shel'," he whispered. "Don't 
fight it.

"I can't help it, Da," Shelby whined. "It does it by itself."

Matt tried again. Shelby tensed instinctively, protectively closing to 
resist penetration. Finally, brute force took over and Matt's finger 
squeezed through the narrow opening into the moist heat. He was mesmerized 
by what he felt and heard. Shelby groaned again, releasing his grip on 
Matt's invading finger. He was becoming excited at the same time as he was 
sickened by what he was doing.

"Now you," Max said abruptly. "Use lots. He's going to need it with a 
cock the size of yours."

Matt rested on his haunches as he wiped vaseline over his penis until it 
was thickly coated with the glistening grease. The lubrication felt good and 
he grinned as his arm moved slowly. He rubbed his erect penis with 
deliberate pleasure as he flexed the muscles in his groin. His bouncing, 
throbbing cock was of average size, at least six inches long, and not overly 
thick. In Matt's experience, he seemed over-endowed to have anal sex with a 
ten-year-old boy, but he had no basis for comparison. His rigid shaft quivered 
with excitement, pulsing up and down as if it was hungry for Shelby's young 
body. The head was flared and it became even more swollen as he masturbated 
slowly. It was very hard and Matt became increasingly excited at the idea that 
it would soon be deep inside Shelby's bowels.

 Until now Matt had not been interested in pre-pubertal boys, but the 
thrill he now experienced was overpowering. Shelby's legs were splayed wide 
apart and his genitals were vulnerable. Similarly exposed was his tiny dark 
anus, glistening with an oily film and bared for all the world to see. His 
opening was very small, seeming far too small to perform the herculean task 
required of it.

"Okay, Matt. Now he's loosened up you can go for it. But take you 
time. Remember you have as long as you want so don't rush it. That's right, 
let him feel your finger in there. Don't push too hard. That's better. All 
he needs is a bit of pressure and he'll take it up there fast enough."

"He feels so tight, Max. I don't want to hurt him."

"He'll fight it for a bit. Just about every kid does the first time he 
gets his butt fucked. Push your finger in a bit more. Okay! There I told 
you. See it's going in easier now. In a few minutes he's going to love it."

Matt's finger disappeared beyond the first joint. "He sure is hot. I can 
feel him squeezing on it. Man, is he strong."

"A virgin sphincter is always like that. It'll acts like he doesn't want 
it in his ass, but he does!"

"I don't want to hurt him," Matt said anxiously.

"I know. Believe me, it doesn't hurt that much. It's just that the first 
time is difficult, that's all. Not many kids take it easily the first time. My 
boys were the same at his age. Tyler screamed his head off the first time 
Juan's brother got his cock in him. And Juan wasn't much for a finger in his 
chute at first either."

Matt held Shelby's nearest leg with one hand and used the other to 
lovingly brush his son's hair back from his forehead. He wanted to soothe 
the youngster and take away his shameful pain. After this, Shelby would 
never be the same carefree boy. He would be changed forever and the two of 
them would have to live with the knowledge of what had been done to him and 
the ever present memory of this night. Matt felt a terrible dread, knowing 
that he was responsible for Shelby's future. His son was about to be sodomized 
and he was assisting in the preparation of his beautiful young body. He was 
betrayed by his own arousal. Matt felt the powerful contractions of Shelby's 
clutching anus begin to ease as he learned to expert control of his sphincter. 
His penis, previously so stiff that it lifted away from the curve of his belly 
and stood proudly at attention, had shrivelled. For the moment, other 
pleasures had taken control. Matt's guilt faded.

"Push you finger in further, Matt," Benton suggested abruptly. "Just 
do it real slow, a bit at a time. Okay stop there. Wriggle it around in his 
chute. Try to find his prostate."

"It's startin' to get loosened up, but he still feels tight. When he 
squeezes it's all I can do to move my finger in him."

Benton pointed to Shelby's lower belly about an inch or two above the 
start of his limp sex. Shelby's penis had retracted almost completely inside 
his groin. Only his glans and a little of the shaft were visible. His 
scrotum had similarly contracted until it was a mere lump, wrinkled like a 
walnut over his tiny balls. Gently Benton flicked the tip of Shelby's penis 
with his forefinger.

"He's just like you were the first time, Tyler, except that your dick 
was about twice the size of this one at his age. Pitiful little thing, isn't 
it? But you know," he added to no one in particular, "the size of a boy's dick 
doesn't really matter because there just ain't no feeling as good as getting 
your ass reamed for the first time. And afterwards, if Shelby likes it, it 
doesn't matter about the size of his dick because all he's going want is a 
man's cock ploughing his asshole. See, he's already started to like the idea."

As Matt's finger jabbed into Shelby's prostate, the young boy's reaction 
was immediate and positive proof that the target had been located. Shelby 
jumped and gasped in shock as his body's reflexes reacted to greatly increased 
stimulation. To prove the point, Matt's finger poked hard into the same spot 
and Shelby shuddered as he gasped. The pleasure was intense and impossible 
to deny. From deep inside the young body, nerves ignited and primal joys 
surfaced. Shelby's tiny prostate, still years from producing seminal fluid, 
began to throb as the finger rubbed hard against it. He squirmed and 
squeezed down onto the finger buried inside him.

 "You got him right in the bull's eye, Matt," Benton chuckled. "Horny 
little guy, isn't he? Like I said, just about every boy's got a hot little 
hole. Okay, now keep on doing it right there so he gets worked up. It won't 
take more than a few minutes more and then you can try your luck in there with 
something a bit bigger than your finger."

A big droplet of pre-cum formed at the slit in Matt's cock. His finger 
surged mercilessly back and forth, stabbing into Shelby's anus relentlessly as 
it pumped against his prostate. The sensations that flowed through Shelby's 
naked body were terrifying to watch, but for the young boy they were 
devastating. It was impossible for Shelby not to enjoy the feelings. Matt knew 
those feelings all too well. Unlike the boy of several minutes earlier, Shelby 
began to accept the presence inside his rectum. He was still a long way from 
pushing back, however even that would come in time. He was quickly becoming 
a willing participant in his own sodomy.

"Does it still hurt, Shelby?" Matt asked with shameful concern.

The boy's face had paled during the last few seconds and his ashen hue 
nagged at Matt. It did not appear to be hurting him. All of his finger was 
inside his son's anus and it was moving as though it was encountering no 
resistance. There was no response from Shelby beyond a slight flicker of his 
eyes in recognition that he was still conscious of what was happening. He 
was caught up in the strange sensations that began below his spine and 
spread outwards until his entire body was consumed by waves of ecstasy. His 
slender legs twitched involuntarily. After a few more seconds, his mouth 
opened. Guiltily, Matt watched his son begin to gasp for air. His eyes closed, 
squeezing tightly to block out the world around him and enable his 
concentration to focus only on his pleasure. Slowly, surely, he was being both 
seduced and deflowered.

"That's enough for now, Matt," Benton interrupted. "No point in giving 
the little guy an orgasm yet, not when you can give him the real thing by 
fucking him."

"You've had your fun," Matt suggested.

"A deal is a deal, Cassidy! I told you the kid would like it. You can 
see he's getting off on his first finger-fuck, but it's nothin' compared to 
what he's going to get next," Benton announced. He turned to Shelby. "You'll 
like it even more in a few minutes."

"I hate you," Shelby whispered fearfully as his sanity returned.

The finger deep inside his rectum had departed and all but one of them 
knew what came next. Shelby was unprepared as his father changed position. 
He knelt behind Shelby's uplifted buttocks and in a blink of an eye, his rigid 
cock found its target. Matt looked down. He used his hands to force Shelby's 
cheeks apart at the same time as they guided his cock to the boy's no-longer 
puckered opening. The blunt tip stopped just short of the recently stretched 
anus. He pushed up hard against it and Shelby's body fought back valiantly 
as it clamped down urgently to repel the large penis. Matt backed off quickly, 
ceasing his effort to advance further. It was the moment of truth.

He tried again and watched Shelby's face contort as he exerted his 
strength to reduce the pressure that built up outside his anus. His smalls 
fists clenched impotently as he strained his buttocks to enlarge the hole. 
Veins on his slender neck, usually barely visible, began to bulge. His 
sphincter's brave attempt to preserve his virginity was foolhardy, although 
Matt silently commended him for his effort even as he wondered whether 
Shelby would always resist being mounted from behind. It was only a matter 
of minutes earlier that Shelby seemed more than willing.

Benton shrugged." If I was you, I'd get him to relax and start helping 
out," he said flatly as he turned back to watch Matt. "The more he fights 
it, the more it's going to hurt. It will get a lot worse if you have to 
force it in. I've seen a boy's ass after it was forced open, and it isn't 
pretty. You might even rupture him with your dick without meaning too."

Matt nodded glumly. Already tears were rolling down Shelby's smooth 
cheeks as he sobbed. Not once had he asked for it to stop. There would be no 
begging for mercy, and both of them knew it. Already his young strength was 
beginning to ebb. He might be able to try for a more few times at most, but by 
then Matt's penis would have breached his anus with a bloody fissure.

"Shelby, honey, you have to try to relax back there," Matt said 
gently. "Don't fight it. When I push in, you have to try to push back at me."

Juan guffawed loudly. "He's right. Do it just like you're taking a crap. 
Only don't shit on his cock."

Shelby sniffed from under his feet, "Hurts,... bad. Please,... I'm 
trying to relax, make it stop hurting, please,..."

Matt sighed loudly. What could he do? What could he say to the boy to 
help him survive his ordeal? What a man's large penis would do to a young 
boy was terrible enough, but if it was forced into the youngster he had few 
doubts that Shelby would not be injured. And yet, despite his concern, Matt 
was motivated less by his need to see Shelby escape unscathed than by an 
overwhelming demand to have his offspring enjoy it. There was, after all, only 
one first time for a boy.

"Shelby, please, you have to trust me," Matt implored. "Try to make it 
looser inside. Make your muscles go soft and then push down like you're 
pooping. I know you can do it for me. You have to try. You have to help me get 
it in."

If his words had any effect on Shelby he could not determine. He grunted 
as he bore down against the boy's buttocks. He gripped the shaft of his 
penis in one hand and held it at the entrance to Shelby's body. He was 
making no progress at all.

"It's so goddamn tight. I can't even get the head in him," Matt 
complained. "I told you it was too goddam big, Max."

"Keep trying. You have to be patient. He'll take it. He want's you in 
his ass."

"You reckon I should do him with my fingers again till he gits a bit 
looser."

"Wouldn't do much good," Max answered. "Not now, anyway. Keep the 
pressure on him. He'll take it sooner or later."

Shelby sobbed loudly and Matt held him tightly. The pain was wretched, 
Matt knew that from first hand experience, but it would be over quickly once 
the invading penis had passed through the tight opening of his anus. Shelby 
had to stop fighting against it and he needed to help him.

"Don't shove so hard, Matt" Benton said. "You aren't fucking a man, 
and he isn't used to it. He's a kid and you've got to go slow at first. 
He'll take all of it if you're patient."

"Help me Shel', for God's sake! I don't want to hurt you."

"The more I think of it, the more I'm surprised you ain't had it in 
there already. He's a real cutie and fuckin' the real thing is a lot better 
than jerking off in front of some boy-sex magazines, even the juicy ones you 
got. It's about time he was broken in."

"Why can't we just let him grow up and find out about sex in his own 
good time?" Matt pleaded.

Benton laughed. "Why? Because there's a big difference between loving 
a boy and teaching him how to love so he likes getting his ass screwed and 
breaking his spirit. And as for finding out about sex in his own good time 
as you put it, the fact is this isn't a job for some dumb-ass Indian kid who 
doesn't know how to fuck."

"He's only a young kid, Benton. Is it because you can't get it up 
yourself?" Matt's voice was full of scorn as he endeavored to convey his 
disgust.

"You better get used to the idea that your son's queer, Matt. He is 
you know. He's as queer as any boy I've seen. You're going to fuck him no 
matter what you say. You want to and so does he. He's trying his best. If 
you want the truth, all you're doing is what he would have done with some 
other guy sooner or later. And going by what I just saw in the bathroom, he 
probably would have fucked with you before long."

Although Matt wanted to debate that he would ever take advantage of 
his own son, he knew that Benton was right. It was only a matter of time. He 
reached with his free hand and touched Shelby's cheek. He edged towards him 
again and placed his body against the slender boy. He kissed the top of 
Shelby's head and whispered softly.

"I love you, Shelby. I want to make love to you but I don't want to hurt 
you. You have to try as hard as you can to relax. I want you to push down as 
hard as you can when you feel my cock trying to get inside you. I want you 
to do this for me. You have to, Shelby. You have to, okay?"

Shelby's eyes opened and saw his father's concern. There was no 
condemnation, just uninhibited desire and understanding.

"I'm trying,... I'm trying as hard as I can," Shelby whispered. "It 
hurts so bad."

Matt nodded sympathetically, leaned forward, and kissed Shelby's 
cheek. He tasted the saltiness of tears. In a few more minutes the burning 
pain and fear of the unknown that terrorized his son would be ended as his 
resistance was overcome. This was Shelby's fate and he could not change it. 
Matt tried to close his mind to Shelby's agony as his penis once again stabbed 
against the virgin anus. Silently he mourned the loss of Shelby's innocence. A 
subdued groan penetrated his brain. He felt Shelby quake as he was impaled. 
Not much had penetrated, no more than the glans was inside his son's body, but 
it was enough to end the torturing pressure for the moment.

"Okay! Ease off before you hurt him! You got the head started into 
him. That's enough for now. Give him a break." Benton leaned forward and 
examined the union of boy and man. Not much more than an inch was inside 
Shelby's small bottom. "He needs to get used to having your dick inside him."

Shelby groaned loudly as his body was racked by a sudden painful 
throe. His face was miserable. It was hard to believe that he had suffered for 
only a minute or two. But while the worst was over, there was much more to 
come."

"I didn't mean to hurt you," Matt mumbled. He glanced shamefully at 
his son. "I didn't want to hurt you like that."

Benton glanced at Matt and smiled smugly. Shelby's breathing was erratic 
and he gasped as his sphincter muscle continued its feeble efforts to 
expulse the swollen knob that was now lodged inside his anus.

"One of these days,..." Matt began. He stopped himself. "I,... I would 
have done it anyway," he admitted sorrowfully. "But not while you watched. 
He's still a little boy. I certainly wouldn't have done until he can enjoy 
it."

Benton laughed loudly. "Who says a a ten-year-old can't enjoy it? 
Tyler and Juan were doing it at his age, and they loved it. In fact, I'll make 
you a deal, Matt. I'll give you five minutes, starting from now, and if Shelby 
isn't getting off on it, we'll call it quits. The money is yours, all of it. 
You can finish the job whenever you want. Is it a deal?"

"Is what a deal?" Matt demanded. "It sounds one-sided so far. What's 
in it for you?"

Again Benton laughed as he slapped Matt on his bare shoulder. "Okay, 
here's rest of the deal. If he's humping his butt back at you in five minutes, 
then you have to fuck him until you cum and two times after that. Like they 
say, three times proves it. Deal?" There was nothing to lose and a lot to gain 
either way. Matt nodded. "You better get to work right away," Benton chided. 
He glanced at his watch. "You have to make this a good one. You've got five 
minutes to get him spastic. That's ten-past seven."

It did not take five minutes before Shelby peaked and experienced his 
first anal orgasm. Nor did it take four minutes, or even three minutes. The 
fact, which Matt found difficult to believe, was that it took just under three 
minutes. The reason why it took even that long was because he had to remove 
his penis from Shelby's anus to add more vaseline. He knew from long 
experience with Charro to concentrate his efforts in the region of Shelby's 
prostate and use short, fast movements to loosen the tight opening. It 
worked with surprising speed and even before the first minute had passed there 
were clear signs that Shelby was yielding willingly.

Caught up in the excitement and the awesome desire that welled up inside 
him, Matt began to coach his son, reassuring and coaxing Shelby to accept 
his penis as it plunged back and forth him. All too well Matt knew the 
feelings the boy was being subjected to. He first knew them when he was a year 
older than Shelby, and he was no different to the boy lying on the bed. Like 
him, Shelby too would be frightened as his body betrayed him and he discovered 
the overpowering joy that came from being fucked.

Matt performed superbly as he worked his penis into Shelby's bottom. 
He stopped as soon as half of it was inside. It had taken three forceful 
thrusts to get that far. With the first inward movement Shelby's sphincter 
fought back just enough to stop his progress. But he was caught unprepared for 
the next hard stab and Matt watched with stunned admiration as his rigid 
member slid in deeper. Less than an inch passed through Shelby's tightly 
stretched orifice before he ceased pushing with a loud grunt. Shelby whimpered 
bravely. He was being impaled on a hot, living stake. The next thrust began 
slowly but it went on and on until Shelby's resistance was broken.

Matt's forward motion stopped then and he waited as the young body tried 
to eject his invading cock. Shelby's face contorted as involuntary spasms 
rippled through him. His inner muscles were dilating, submitting to the 
presence of the penis inside him even as he fought back tears of pain. As Matt 
eased back, the vivid red of Shelby's blood came into sight. His virginity was 
a bloody smear on his father's penis.

If Matt was aware of the injury to Shelby's anus he did not show it. 
He pushed forward, pulled back, waited a few seconds for Shelby to regain 
his breath and then began to hump gently.

"Go slow, Matt! You aren't fucking a man," Benton warned. "He needs it 
real slow at first. Not so far. Slow and gentle in there until he gets loose 
inside."

"Just try to breath slowly, Shelby. I'm all the way in now," Matt 
murmured.

"Da, it's hurting me."

"The pain will stop in a little bit, Shelby. Try not to squeeze on it."

"It hurts! God, it hurts so bad."

"I know it hurts! The more you relax the better,... the easier it's 
goin' to be for you."

"Don't go in so deep, Matt! You don't need to. Right now all his 
pleasure is near his ass hole. It takes a while before he wants more."

"I'm trying not to hurt him!"

"You can feel him getting looser can't you?"

"Yeah, Juan, I think he is. He feels so tight."

"Good! Just go slow, Matt."

"He keeps squeezing on me. I think he's going to squeeze my cock off."

"That's good! His ass is trying to loosen up for you."

"Da,... Oh! God,... It hurts even worse! I'm going to pee."

"No you won't! It just feels like it, Shelby."

"His penis is pushing against your bladder. You'll be okay, I promise. 
Take a deep breath and try to relax inside for him."

"He's getting loose now. God, he feels so hot inside."

"Go slow, Matt. It feels good, doesn't it?"

"Yeah! Ohhhh,... I want to go deeper. Damn, he feels so fucking good."

"Okay! Give him a bit more!"

"Da,.... Da,..."

"Shelby, it's okay!"

"Da,.... Ohhhhhhhh! I,... I hurt so bad!"

"It's okay Shelby. I think you're going to cum, that's all. You'll be 
all right in a minute!"

"Da,... Oh Jesus, Ohhhhhhhhhh! It hur-r-r-t-t-t-s! Feels like I'm 
exploding inside. My balls, they hurt like crazy."

"Good boy! Now Shelby, push back into him as hard as you can."

"Da,.... aaahhhhhh. Oh God! Ohhhhhh! Do it faster."

"Okay Shel'!"

"Now, fuck him as hard as you can."

"Ohhhhhhhh! Noooooooo! Ohhh! Oh!"

"You're cumming, Shelby. It's okay, son. Just let it out. It feels 
wonderful, doesn't it?"

"Sooooogood, oh god. Ohhhh, God! My balls ache so bad!"

"You did it, Shelby. You goddamn came!"

Benton laughed triumphantly as Shelby's lean frame shuddered and 
strained for nearly a minute until the sensations deep within him peaked. Long 
tendons and muscles in his legs became incredibly tight as he fought against 
unknown sensations. Frenzied spasms wrought havoc in his mind as they tortured 
his body. He needed it to go on while Matt seemed intent on stopping. Thick 
strands of semen flooded into him as his own immature orgasm came and went 
in seconds. The sudden loss of pressure inside his anus took him by 
surprise. At one moment his father's penis was stroking through the still 
tight muscle of his sphincter, the next all of the frantic stress was gone and 
the slime that now coated the sensitive walls of his rectum created a slick, 
slippery tube that sucked noisily on the slowly moving penis inside him. All 
of his pain vanished. All that was left was his desire for the feelings inside 
him to go on and on forever. He groaned loudly as Matt's penis ceased its 
frenetic stabbing. Held securely in the soft hot bowel, still throbbing with 
the last jerks of ejaculation, father and son shared the warm glow of 
triumph and contentment. 

"God, you feel so good on my cock," Matt purred. 

Max laughed and slapped at Matt's bare buttocks. "So now you know what 
it feels like to be in a boy's ass, huh? Nice feeling, isn't it?" 

"Real nice!" Matt agreed. "Did I hurt him?" 

"Hurt him? Hardly! Just a bit of blood, that's all," Benton chuckled 
as he glanced at Shelby's bottom. "I'd say you probably made him feel real 
good, going by the fact you got him to cum just from being fucked in his 
chute." 

"Yeah, I guess," Matt answered uncertainly. 

Benton shrugged, oblivious to the pain that had been inflicted. It had 
to hurt before it felt good, and from the young boy's movements at the finale, 
he knew it had felt very good indeed. That Matt had climaxed quickly clearly 
helped. It was one advantage of premature ejacuation, but now it was time to 
finish the job.

"You going to keep it stuffed up his butt all day, Matt?" Juan demanded. 
"Or do you plan on fucking him again in the near future?"

Admonished, Matt pulled away by settling back on his knees. His 
captive penis stretched, becoming thinner before the boy's rectum released it. 
Shelby groaned instinctively as the fullness in his bowels vanished. He felt 
no shame, just a sensation of being drained of all his strength and unable 
to move even if he wanted to. His eyes closed, blotting out the light as his 
mind rejected the sounds and smells around him. Shelby was too exhausted to 
think of anything beyond the persistent ache deep within his pelvis. He was 
unaware of Matt's careful inspection of his now-limp member, the blood-
streaked weapon that had conquered the pride of a Navajo boy-warrior. 

"Let him rest up for a bit," Benton instructed. 

Matt stood up and regarded the tired boy before him. He knew he should 
feel guilty. All he felt was overwhelming triumph. Fifty thousand dollars 
paled beside taking the boy's cherry. He smiled fondly as Shelby's eyes opened 
again. 

"You feel okay, Shel'?" he asked gently.

There was a slight, uncertain nod as Shelby blinked. 


CHAPTER 9. BOY IN THE BED AGAIN

It was an hour later when Matt came back to the bedroom. Shelby awoke 
and smiled as his father settled back on the bed. He was aware of his father 
growing excitement and curious at what would happen next. He remembered the 
mornings when he had come into his parents' bedoom and found them together, 
bodies slick with a sheen of sweat, his mother's hair unkempt and her 
expression more than a little distraught. He remembered feeling envious of her 
and not understanding why he felt the way he did. It seemed like a long time 
ago.

"Hi Shel'," Matt said softly.

Shelby smiled sleepily. "I want to do it again," he murmured.

Benton chuckled from the doorway. "What did I tell you, Matt? That boy's 
a hot one all right. You're going to have your hands full."

Matt suppressed his reply and knelt over his son. Instinctively, 
Shelby's legs lifted up until he could grasp his ankles. As Matt's thick penis 
probed into the depths of his crevice, Shelby's desire began to return. He 
felt the bulge of Matt's swollen glans push into the tender node of his 
anus. Hands gripped his hips and restrained his movement. The pressure 
increased and a man's strength was brutally applied to achieve entry through a 
portal that was still too small. "Just relax! Just relax, Shelby," Benton 
coached, "and it won't hurt much at all. You can take it easily, especially if 
you try to help."

Matt groaned inwardly, reasoning that independent of Shelby's efforts to 
relax he was still going to be hurt. At some point Shelby would cease 
resisting, not merely acquiescing in his defloration, but eagerly submitting 
to his father's greater strength. Matt pressed forward, directing his penis at 
the small target centered between Shelby's buttocks. It was no longer a matter 
of having no other choice, because he needed to do it simply to keep the 
ranch, but because he wanted to. The truth of it settled over Matt like a 
saddle blanket on a horse. Shelby was no different to himself. Their games, so 
often bordering on sex play, were merely the explorations of underlying 
desires by a boy who was still too young to understand what he really 
wanted. And now he knew. They both knew what Shelby wanted. If Matt Cassidy 
had any doubts about the orientation of Shelby's desires they were being 
quickly dispelled.

"You want it inside you, don't you Shelby?" Juan teased as he walked 
over towards the bed. "You want a cock like Tyler does."

Silence.

"Go on, admit it. Tell us what you really want. You can feel him 
trying to get inside your ass. You know what you want. You know you want his 
cock in you. Tell your daddy what you want."

Silence.

"You want to feel his cock inside your guts, don't you Shelby. Just like 
in the barn, the same way you wanted me in your mouth, you want it in your 
ass."

Silence.

"This time your father's going to teach you how to fuck, Shelby. He's 
going to teach you how to do it like Tyler. You want to learn, don't you, 
Shelby?"

Silence. A part of Matt wanted to intervene, to ask Juan and Tyler not 
to torment the boy, but like Shelby, he said nothing. He tried again to 
convince himself that they had to do this to save the Bar None. There was no 
other way, no guilt was necessary. He knew otherwise. He was as hard as he had 
ever been as he kneeled over Shelby's uplifted buttocks. Try as he could, Matt 
could not look away from his thick engorged penis that hovered over Shelby's 
exposed anus, occasionally probing between the lubricated mounds into the tiny 
dilated orifice. With delight he realized that his semen was inside that no 
longer puckered hole. His son was no longer innocent. His penis had pounded 
into the prepubescent body and create sensations that were equally painful and 
indescribably wonderful. Both of them would never forget that day.

"I'm going put it in now," Matt said calmly, "and you're going to help 
me son. You're going to push back into me. You're going to relax your ass 
muscles and then you're going to force your ass over my cock, Shelby. Now do 
it."

Matt moved forward, bringing his instrument back to the weakened 
opening. Shelby stiffened involuntarily as the bloated glans rammed between 
his firm cheeks and split then further apart. It nuzzled his anus, adding 
copious slimy pre-cum to lubricant and semen. It settled into the spongy 
flesh. The pressure increased exponentially. Shelby groaned loudly.

"You trying to help or what," Benton said softly. "He's big enough to 
hurt you, Shelby. Don't be stupid for God's sake." 

To Matt, the other man's patience seemed out of character. Like a 
chameleon, he had changed from a brute intent on championing the abuse of 
the young Navajo boy, to a coach who carefully guided his star player to 
victory. 

"You gotta push back at him, kid," Tyler admonished. "Try to make your 
ass go slack at the same time. It'll hurt a whole lot less if you help him get 
it inside. Once it's up you it'll feel better. Hell, you might even like 
it," he added with a smirk.

"Come on, Shel'. Push it back at me. Open your butt for me. Tyler's 
right, it'll hurt a whole lot less if you help."

Shelby groaned, his agony less from the pain at the threshold to his 
rectum, but from the inner conflict that continued to torment him. His eyes 
closed tightly as he endeavored to focus his efforts, to concentrate on 
doing what was required of him. It was a feat worthy of the greatest 
warrior. He strained down, exerting all of the strength that remained to 
him. He did not know why he did so, only that he needed a penis, his 
father's penis, inside him again. It was a sudden and frightening realization.

"Push again," Matt instructed. "Like that, just like that, like you're 
taking a shit and you can't get it out. Push hard boy!"

"I'm tryin'!"

"Go on, Shel'! Push my cock right into your fuck-hole." 

Matt gasped in disbelief as the head of his penis started to enter. 
The tendons and muscles in his thighs and legs strained, and his arms embraced 
Shelby's narrow hips. He watched the hurt in Shelby's face, contorted by his 
shameful effort not only to comply with his father's request, but to satisfy 
his own desire. There was an undeniable and perverse pleasure in watching 
his son's efforts. That Shelby was cooperating fully made his enjoyment 
complete.

"You got it, Shelby," Matt said triumphantly. "You got the head of my 
cock in you. You can feel it in there, can't you?"

"It's big, isn't it?" Benton grinned. "Tyler knows just how big Juan's 
is, only not nearly as well as Shelby does right now. Now,... push down 
again and let's get the rest of it in you!"

"It hurts," Shelby moaned. "I'm trying! It hurts too much."

Benton laughed. "You're okay kid, you're feeling bad, but you're doing 
fine. He's going to stop for a while and let you get used to having his cock 
inside you. Your ass needs time to adjust even though he stretched you out 
real good before. You have to keep trying to relax your ass muscles. You've 
got to practice that."

Matt sighed as he eased the pressure off. He remembered all too clearly. 
The second time was no easier than the first time. Charro's penis inflicted 
almost unbearable pain on him before it went inside him again. It took time. 
That was the way it was for the first few times when a boy of Shelby's 
tender years attempted the almost impossible task of taking a man's penis into 
him. It was like that until he became used to it, and there was only one way 
for a boy to get used to it. A boy had to do exactly what Shelby was doing 
at that very moment. He re-positioned himself so that he could observe 
Shelby's anus by looking down between them. What he saw should have sickened 
him, but it did not. Surprisingly there was no more blood around Shelby's anus 
although the sight that greeted him was such to suggest there should be lots 
of it. The rim of his son's anus was stretched into a thin line, like lips 
encompassing a thick blood-engorged stake that was impaled between his rounded 
muscular cheeks. Only his broad swollen glans was inside Shelby's quivering 
body. The rest of his penis waited outside, its turn rapidly approaching as 
the youngster's sphincter muscle relaxed before the constant pressure. It 
was long and thick, yet it was thinner than the bloated head that had 
already pierced through Shelby's anus. The worst was over.

From the change in Shelby's breathing, Matt realized that the boy wanted 
the rest of it inside him. Just the fact that he was not struggling against 
the pressure building in his lower abdomen was enough to convince to continue. 
He saw the rippling of the long muscles of Shelby's thighs, his calf muscles 
stressing, and felt Shelby pressing back into his hard organ. It was 
conclusive proof of Shelby's motivation as much as his own. His son was 
every bit as eager as he had been with Charro. Matt held his breath as he 
began to press forward. He knew what happened next. He knew the sensation 
all too well. There would be a slow unstoppable displacement of the boy's 
insides, like a tremendous pressure that was resolved to push the life out 
of him as it rammed through the narrow entrance. It was a feeling of being 
progressively filled, so full that it seemed that he was stretched beyond 
his elastic limit. Matt knew that what appeared impossible was entirely 
possible and would be made much easier with Shelby's willingness. He watched 
his penis inch forward, his eyes glued to the tiny anus as it struggled to 
achieve the seemingly Herculean feat required of it. He watched as Shelby 
struggled to relax his inner muscles. He was barely cognizant of the others in 
the room, wanting only to finish what he had started. With all the strength he 
could muster, Matt willed his son to accept it and not fight back when he 
started again.

He remembered Charro's lovemaking, the well-greased manhood of the 
shaman sliding slowly into him, time and time again until there was no 
resistance left inside him and sex became a frequent ritual to be celebrated 
in the cool darkness of the cave. Even from the very first time he had not 
wanted to resist. Being with a man came naturally to him, satisfying some 
instinctive craving within him. After the first few times he realized that 
he was attracted to the shaman. He returned to the cave willingly, just as his 
own son was a willing participant in what was now happening. There was a 
predictable truth to it, as if it had been predestined from the moment of 
Shelby's conception on the very same bed on which he lay. He was born to 
participate in this obscene act, giving his innocence in return for 
unparalleled pleasure that few boys his age experienced. Shelby's groans would 
stay with him forever as his shaft continued to force its way in for the 
second time. 

Later, there would be time for him to wonder whether he should have 
stopped, but at that moment he had no thoughts about ending. He gave no 
quarter as he thrust forward with powerful lunges, knowing that a pre-teen boy 
could do what was required of him. Shelby's job was to be quiet and accept his 
passive role as best he could. However, even as Matt anticipated Shelby's 
agony when his small anus was cruelly ruptured, he realized he was victorious. 
He halted. His penis was halfway inside the small dark body. He slowly 
withdrew most of it. Shelby groaned again, as much as from relief that the 
tearing pain had ended as from the abrupt cessation of a strange and wonderful 
feeling. It was the same feeling he had barely begun to experience the first 
time before his father achieved orgasm. And now the feeling was back, 
perhaps even more intense, and certainly more appreciated now that Shelby knew 
the pain would go away quickly as soon as the penis was removed.

Afterwards, when Shelby had the chance to reflect on what happened on 
his father's bed, he would remember the raw ache in his testicles and the 
overwhelming feeling of being joined to the man kneeling over him, of being 
slowly filled until his bowel was stretched so tightly that it felt as 
though he would burst open. He would remember the words of encouragement as he 
was coaxed to push down and assist in his own sodomy. He would remember 
enduring terrible pain as he tried to take the thick hard penis into his 
rectum. More than anything else he would remember being happy that the penis 
that pounded into his intestines belonged to his father.

He pushed back by forcing his stomach and inner muscles to push his 
belly and internal organs downwards. He strained until beads of sweat 
glistened on his chest and face, until his legs quivered, until he felt the 
huge shaft sink into him.

"You're doing a fine job, Matt," Benton complimented. "You got most of 
it in there now. Do it again and he'll take it all."

Matt swallowed. Benton's estimation had erred on the conservative side 
but it wasn't far from the truth. He watched as Shelby's eyes closed 
tightly. He saw the pain in his son's face as he concentrated all of his 
remaining energy on what he was doing. His fists were clenched impotently as 
Shelby tried again to push against him. Matt remembered what it felt like 
going in, like a wedge being hammered in until it could go no further. 

"Your boy is something else," Benton chuckled. "He can't get it in 
fast enough. He's going to be so goddamn full of cock he won't be able to shit 
for a week. Okay, one last time!" 

The last two inches were easy by comparison. Matt backed away after only 
a few seconds after his pubic bone was compressed into Shelby's crack. It 
was anatomically impossible for either boy or man to go further. Matt 
Cassidy breathed a long sigh of relief. Tyler smirked at the younger boy's 
discomfiture as he considered how many times he had been in the same 
predicament. It was impossible to decide what felt better or worse, all the 
way in or partially out. That was why a guy fucked you, he decided. You got 
the best of both worlds when his cock was moving back and forth. 

"You sure filled him up," Juan laughed. "He's full of cum. I can see 
it running down his butt. It's just like fucking one of them mud holes we 
saw down in Texas last year."

Tyler grinned. "He's got a real tight chute, ain't he? I didn't think 
you were going to get it in for a while. He's lucky he's not bleeding with all 
that cock stuffed in there."

"You worked him over pretty good, Matt. I guess his asshole is pretty 
well stretched by now." 

Matt flexed his penis and Shelby winced slightly at it jerked inside 
him, increasing the pressure against his prostate. He kneeled over Shelby, 
supporting the upper half of his body with his left arm. He placed his other 
hand between them, groping for the boy's sex organ before following the 
small scrotum downward into the deep crevice. He felt the last inch of his 
huge member as it exited from the terribly distended opening into Shelby's 
body. Without thinking he lifted his hand to his nose to smell the accumulated 
fluids. Other than a pink tinge there was no blood. He wiped the mess of semen 
and excess lubricant over Shelby's face in a crude ritual of initiation. 
Memories came rushing back to him. It was time to teach Shelby how to make 
love to a man.

"Squeeze on it, boy," he instructed quietly. "Not like that, not like 
some girl. Squeeze it hard, as hard as you can. Yeah, that's better. Now you 
do that from now on every chance you git and you got yourself a real good 
ass for fuckin'."

The other boys smirked again as Matt started to hump. The young Navajo 
boy had no idea of what was in store for him as Matt began to thrust. He 
pumped gently at first. He wanted Shelby to enjoy it. However, that slow, 
careful pace was only the beginning. He did what needed to be done so as not 
to hurt the boy. He used a long deep stroke that was calculated to inflict the 
greatest pleasure, pulling back so far that his bloated glans was nearly 
removed before it rammed back in. It did not stop before it bottomed out and 
Shelby groaned. With each successive stroke his prostate was pulverized 
until be began to shake. His rectum loosened, shedding its muscular strength 
as the fluids were suctioned out of him. Then Matt's movements became more 
urgent. 

It was a startling sight and one that Matt Cassidy would not have 
believed possible if he had not experienced it himself when he was a boy. Now, 
he witnessed his own son doing it with a man. Occasionally his penis pulled 
free as he began to use deep long strokes that were calculated to give the 
youngster overwhelming pleasure. Then there was a moment's interruption 
until he found the boy's anus again, brought the head back to the opening, and 
returned the swollen glans like a piston into the heated, satiny walls of 
the tight canal. Each time Shelby groaned, but it was impossible to tell 
whether his guttural moan was from momentary relief of having the throbbing 
organ out of him or from the satisfaction of having it return. 

"Too cool," Tyler teased as he saw Matt's semen dribbling from 
Shelby's anus. "The jizz is really pouring out of him," he added. "I didn't 
think you put that much in him."

Benton paused and grinned crudely at the other boy. "You emptied your 
balls in him, Matt."

Juan laughed. "Hey Ty, he better be careful if he don't want to drown 
the little bugger in cum."

Matt held his breath and began to move faster and faster. Shelby was 
buffeted like a small sailing boat on a wild stormy night. Both pain and 
incredible pleasure washed over him in waves, threatening to drown him if he 
could not make the effort to stay afloat. There was no resistance left in 
him even if he wanted to resist. He closed his eyes and tried to blot out 
the sensations that were now so powerful that they threatened to consume his 
sanity. His pelvis began to rotate and lift up in erratic jerks as he 
surrendered.

"That's right," Matt grunted. He stopped moving and held his cock like a 
battering ram. "Fuck yourself, Shelby. Push it deep into you. Take it all 
the way into your ass. Go on!"

Shelby's thighs strained and his belly muscles tensed as he shoved hard. 
Matt's penis surged through him until it could go no further. He gasped for 
air as he felt it impale him.

"Now that's better isn't it, Shelby," Benton said. He grinned at Matt. 
"Your boy's a real good fuck. When you're done with him he'll be an expert 
at it."

Matt pulled back until only the head of his organ was lodged in Shelby's 
anus. Without further instruction the boy pushed down again and forced the 
thick shaft back into him. 

"You're starting to get the idea. Now when I push in, you push back, got 
it? And when I'm pulling it out you squeeze your ass on it as hard as you 
can and try to keep it inside it. Just remember, the more you take of my cock, 
the better it feels, Shel'." 

After a few tentative practice thrusts Matt could tell that Shelby was 
doing what was wanted. He watched his son's sinews strain as he exerted 
every bit of strength to keep the throbbing penis inside him. After another 
minute or two he observed the end result. His thrusts were coming faster and 
deeper and Shelby's breathing was frantic. Matt listened to the sounds of sex, 
a loose sucking sloppiness and Shelby's whimpers of ecstatic joy as his head 
tossed wildly. Despite the frenzy of approaching orgasm, Matt recognized the 
radiant happiness as his son's youthful sexuality was awakened. He knew the 
feelings. The boy had reached the stage of acceptance, no longer caring who 
possessed him, or what was asked of him. His entire being was focused on the 
intense joy that burst from deep within him and swept him along in its path.

"Squeeze harder," Matt grunted. 

With each thrust, his rigid member pounded into Shelby's rectum until it 
bottomed out and the boy groaned loudly as his inner organs were pulverized. 
He strained downward with all his strength to displace his intestines and 
force his prostate and bladder into the position where it bore the brunt of 
Matt's powerful lunges. His delight became agony, desperately squeezing 
until he could stand it no longer and all he wanted was for his father to 
stop. Words failed him. All he could do was to beg for more by pushing back 
and nodding his head with frightful eagerness, and gasp for air. With his eyes 
closed and his fists clenched Shelby tried to control his panic. There was 
nothing he could do, or wanted to do. He did not want it to stop, ever. 
Without warning Matt's thrusts became frenzied again and his thick penis 
seemed to swell even more. 

The sudden rush of hot thick semen took Shelby by surprise. Unlike the 
first time, the torrent of juice gushed out of Matt's penis in such forceful 
bursts that Shelby felt it squirting deep inside him. Although it lasted 
only a matter of seconds, to the exhausted boy it seemed to go on and on until 
he was filled with white-hot fluid. Again he felt the overwhelming sense 
that his body was no longer his to control. He felt Matt's penis jerking 
relentlessly, heat flooding into him, his own body arching up to meet it 
with every muscle taut, shuddering and gasping with terrors as something 
deep within him seemed to burst. His head fell back, uttering garbled, 
incoherent words. As his pleasure peaked, he wanted to die. For those few 
seconds Shelby Cassidy was more alive than at any time during his life.

 "Ohhhhhh! Daaaaaaaa!" 

With one final feeble effort he exerted all his strength to compress 
Matt's still jerking penis and hold it captive. The climax passed and faded as 
rapidly as it had come. As Shelby's body relaxed, the thick shaft, no longer 
quite as stiff, slithered out and slapped wetly against the boy's slowly 
retracting penis and shrivelled scrotum. Matt settled back on his haunches and 
admired his handiwork. Shelby was unmoving except for the slight rise and fall 
of his chest as he breathed.

"Shit!" Tyler said in awe. "Look at the size of his ass. It's huge!"

Juan grinned. "Nah. It looks about the same size as yours when I'm 
done fucking you. The way he was squeezing I was sure the little fuck-head was 
going to put shit all over it, especially considering he was a virgin and all. 
Hell, his cock is as clean as a whistle."

Benton grinned. "Just goes to show, doesn't it guys."

"Show what?"

"It shows how much he liked getting his cute little hiney fucked. Matt 
must have reamed his hole out about ten sizes. He won't shit right for a 
week or two. For that matter, it may even be permanent." 

Matt lifted up the sheet and callously wiped off the shiny film of slime 
that coated his penis. He felt drained.

"He's not going to stop now that he likes it," Benton said. "That was 
some sight. It may be the best fuck I've ever seen. Unless I'm mistaken, 
from now on Shelby's going to fuck till he drops, just like you do, Tyler. I 
think we just found ourselves a little boy whore who loves nothing more than 
havin' a man's cock all the way up his ass."


CHAPTER 9. THE END OF THE LINE

Matt swallowed as he risked a quick downward glance at Shelby's small 
pinched bottom. The sight that greeted him was both frightening and very 
exciting. He felt a surge in his loins and he tried to stop the thoughts 
that welled up inside him. It was as if he suddenly discovered that he was 
hungry. A part of him had not been fully satisfied since the days and 
occasional nights he had been with Charro many years earlier when he was a boy 
not unlike Shelby. How many times had he taken Charro's thick maleness into 
him? How many times had he wanted it inside him again, and again after that 
until both of them were too tired to move? He had begged for it more times 
than he cared to remember. Shelby's anus was stretched wide like a gaping 
mouth in search of nourishment. It was impossibly large, appearing even bigger 
than a man's anus after intercourse because of the comparative smallness of 
the rest of his body. And yet, despite its expanded size, there was 
practically no sign of the two orgasms that occurred within it. Matt stared at 
his son as he remembered the oozing semen that would slowly dribble down the 
backs of his legs after Charro had removed his penis. It was Shelby's position 
he realized. On his back, the copious ejaculations had remained largely inside 
his rectum.

Shelby slowly eased his legs out until the improved circulation began to 
reduce the painful cramps in his calves and thighs. His eyes met his 
father's before he quickly looked away. There was no hiding what he had 
done. Three pairs of eyes had watched him writhing in the throes of ecstasy, 
his naked body abandoned to unspeakable desire as he lay before Matt. He tried 
to remember what he had shouted at the last moment.

"You feeling okay?" Matt asked. "I bet your asshole is pretty sore." 

Shelby nodded slightly. "It hurts pretty bad," he murmured.

Benton nodded. "Yeah, I bet it does, Shelby. It goes away in a while 
so don't worry. Besides you're two-thirds of the way."

"Huh?"

"Well,... they say, three times proves it. By the time we leave here 
you're going to be as queer as Tyler is. He likes Juan to fuck him every 
chance he gets. And like I said, after a while it stops hurting. My boys can 
tell you if you don't believe me. You do it often enough and all you'll want 
is a man-cock in your guts."

Benton reached forward and casually stroked Shelby's scrotum. He prodded 
at the two tiny testicles. Shelby's penis had become so small that it was 
barely visible.

"I feel bad inside," Shelby whined. "I think,... I have to go to the 
bathroom,... Please,... can I get up?"

Benton laughed. "You don't have to. It just feels that way. What you 
need is a cock in your ass. You need to be filled up with a man-cock again. 
You'll feel better with it in you. Trust me." He turned to Matt. "Well, are 
you ready to make it number three? That was the deal, remember? You get to 
fuck your own boy three times." 

Matt glared at Benton angrily. Benton ignored him.

"Da,.... Please," Shelby implored. "I want you do it again.".

"Gettin' you ass fucked feels good, doesn't it Shelby."

"Da. Please do it."

"I told you he'd be begging for it," Benton laughed. "A deal is a 
deal, or are you going back on your word?"

Matt nodded his agreement. In fact, as he began to move back into 
position behind his son, he no longer worried about his motives. He could 
barely control the excitement that threatened to rise up and engulf him. 
Perhaps it had started out as a last recourse to save the Bar None, but it had 
changed during the last hour when Shelby willingly gave himself again and 
again. Matt had been sexually aroused as he realized that his son was, in a 
perverse way, deriving overwhelming enjoyment from what was being done to him. 
Now, the boy's pleading voice aroused Matt even further. Miraculously, his 
penis was hard again like a thick rod of metal, a hot spike of human flesh 
that needed to be contained in a young Navajo boy.

"Da,..." Shelby's voice implored. "I want your cock. I want you in me. 
Okay?"

Benton grinned at Tyler and raised his eyebrows in an obscene 
acknowledgment of the young boy's desire.

"You see how much he likes it," he taunted. "His ass must be total agony 
by now. Much more of this and the poor little guy won't be able to sit or shit 
for a week. Not that he's going to want to sit when he's lying on his back. It 
makes you wonder what he'll be like when he's able to shoot."

"Da,... Please?"

"Go on, Matt, fuck him! That's what he really wants, you know. He 
wants your big hard cock all the way in his ass. He wants his daddy to fuck 
him again. He wants your jizz sloshing around and dribbin' out his hole and 
runnin' down his legs. He's queer for his daddy's big cock. Maybe you think he 
isn't up to the task but we all know different."

"You're lower than a snake," Matt snarled. "Okay! Leave him alone. 
I'll do it again. For God's sake shut up."

Benton shrugged. For the third time Shelby pulled his legs up into a 
submissive position. Even as Benton continued to torment his father, Shelby 
appreciated the awesome sensations, feelings that were more incredible than 
those he had experienced on the ground next to the corral, in the cave, and 
again in the barn with Juan.

"Okay," Benton said. "This is want I'm really paying you for. You get 
your cock inside him again and fuck him properly. The ranch is yours, 
friend. Just do it like a man so your boy likes it."

Matt nodded his understanding and Shelby's head moved slightly to 
indicate that he knew what was expected of him. Even if they were willing 
participants in Benton's experiment in incest, it was still shameful being 
witnessed. Matt took the vaseline and clumsily smeared another large gob of it 
over his throbbing penis, paying particular attention to the bulging glans 
where the friction would be greatest. He tried not to think of Shelby as his 
son as he moved back into position. That his penis had remained erect made his 
excitement unbearable. He felt like a teenager, randy and ready to go on all 
night long. He trembled with anticipation as he touched Shelby's rump, placing 
both hands on the boy's cheeks and parted them. His penis eased into the boy's 
semen-slicked crack and poked half-heartedly at the weakened orifice. There 
seemed to be no resistance left in the soft flesh. he heistated. The boy 
quickly took the initiative and shoved his pelvis down so that the fat head of 
his father's penis skewered him. With the glans just inside his anus he took a 
deep breath. His father's penis was thick seemed much bigger than before. He 
felt it bulging into him, a wonderful stress opening his anus wide and filling 
his narrow rectum as it began to slide in.

Matt needed no more incentive. He pushed forward into the eager boy. 
It was remarkably easy. He felt his son's body consume him, wet hot soft 
tissue creeping up the length of his shaft until several inches had 
disappeared. He stopped, quaking with joy as he felt Shelby shuddering as he 
was impaled. He had no doubts now.

The boy's groan was low and breathless as he started to withdraw. He 
stopped, aware that Shelby was squeezing on his penis in a vain attempt to 
keep him inside where he belonged. He rammed back into the loosened tube, 
sliding on the slippery film until he felt the oozing slime sloshing inside 
the boy. As the last inch of his swollen penis forced into Shelby and bottomed 
out in the small rectum it displaced the fluids already deposited there. Thick 
semen squirted back and covered his groin.

"That's better," Benton laughed. "Your kid's got himself one sloppy 
little fuck-hole, hasn't he? A boy's always easier to fuck when he's juiced up 
and stretched out. Course, it was a lot of work getting him to this stage. 
He must have a half a cup of cum in him by now and he's still coming back 
for more. I can tell his ass is working on your tool. He's clenching it the 
same way Tyler does when he's feeling hot and having fun with Juan."

"He feels good, doesn't he?" Tyler added. "He's squeezing down like that 
because he loves it so much. I could have told you he's got a hot ass!"

"You'd know, Tyler," Juan laughed.

Matt tried to ignore their sarcasm. However they were both right and 
there was no denying it. He felt Shelby's bowels working against the length of 
his penis, pushing and pulling with surprisingly powerful contractions. 
Despite what had been done to him, there was still a remarkable amount of 
strength in his abused body. The first two had taught Shelby about sex and now 
he was reaping the benefit. He should have felt ashamed and disgusted, but all 
he could muster was curiosity about how his son found the strength to go on 
squeezing his throbbing penis.

Benton grinned. "Maybe it's time we taught the little brave how to 
really get his ass hammered." 

He lifted Shelby's nearest leg up and hooked it behind Matt's back. On 
the other side of the bed, Tyler did the same so that Shelby was literally 
suspended from his father's powerful body. Benton moved both legs closer until 
Shelby's knees were clamped around Matt's neck and his legs were hooked behind 
the man's shoulders. 

"Now," Benton smirked. "Fuck him hard! Make him beg for it all the 
way. Push it all the way in and fuck the crap out of him. Turn him on! He 
wants you to fuck him hard. That's what all boys want once they're used to 
it."

Tyler laughed as he watched Matt pull away and then suddenly thrust 
forward. Shelby grunted as the air in his lungs was expelled from the force of 
the impact and the displacement of his inner organs. Matt's penis opened new 
territory as it reached all the way inside him. It was a feeling that was both 
very painful and infinitely pleasurable, and it took Shelby by complete 
surprise.The love that had existed between them was pushed aside as animal 
lust took over. Filial devotion was supplanted by primal need. One thrust 
was followed quickly by the next, establishing an erratic rhythm of gasps 
and groans amid the wet slurping sound of Matt's rampart penis pounding back 
and forth in Shelby's bowels.

"Look at him go! After this, all he's going to want from now on is to 
get his cute little ass fucked," Tyler announced. 

Juan snickered. "He's going to be pretty lonely up here on the ranch,... 
unless his old man keeps him real busy, that is. Shelby's going to need 
regular fucking from now on!"

"Just like you and Tyler," Benton chuckled. "Yep, I think so. What we 
got here is 100 percent pure unadulterated boy-faggot. He could get a 
hundred bucks just to drop his jeans, and he'd be begging to put his butt to 
work every chance he got. With his looks and with a bit of training on how 
to use what he's got below his belt he'd be one hell of a busy injun."

Their words went unheard by Matt and Shelby. They were engrossed in 
their passion, abandoned to deep longings that had been brought to the surface 
and exposed for what they were. The strength that would have allowed 
Shelby's sphincter to resist, to contract and tighten, fighting back to 
preserve his innocence had long since disappeared. His virginity was gone. His 
anus opened wide for his father's penis as he submitted eagerly. He 
slackened even more now that he was willing, absorbing each delicious 
thrust. His own sexuality was insignificant, his penis shrivelled, his scrotal 
pouch a wizened lump with barely discernible testicles. He existed only for 
the pleasure that stemmed from his rectum, his body becoming a sheath around 
his father's manhood as it enclosed the throbbing organ and bathed it in wet 
soft heat.

The only sounds were Shelby's gasps, Matt's groans, and of succulent 
well-greased flesh moving in unison. Benton rested on his haunches, allowing 
father and son to experience what he had so often witnessed Juan enjoying with 
Tyler. Sarcasm and taunts were no longer needed as lust took over.

"Man, look at 'em go," Tyler announced. "If I didn't know better I'd 
swear Shelby was used to having a man up his ass."

Benton laughed. "There's nothing like a loose ass-hole to get a man 
worked up. Come on, guys, let's go eat something. All this sex has got me real 
hungry and they need some privacy to finish this off."

"Right now?"

"Yes, right now. Come on! Let's leave them to it. It looks like Matt 
knows what his kid wants in his ass-hole. They don't need help from us." 
Benton chuckled. "He's got to be the horniest kid I've ever seen. He's going 
to keep his old man busy from now on. He'll need fucking a couple of times a 
day. And way up here where isn't someone to stop them he'll get what he 
wants."

They left to search the kitchen cupboards, taking food and utensils here 
and there as they found what they wanted despite the poor selection of the 
Cassidy home. In the bedroom, Matt was breathing heavily. Shelby was 
trembling. Each thrust came quickly, deep and hard into him, taking both of 
them closer to climax despite Matt's desire to prolong his enjoyment. Finally, 
after one violent shudder, Shelby collapsed, his insatiable hunger temporarily 
vanquished.

His inert body, no longer responsive to caresses and the jerking 
motion of his penis, frightened Matt. He drew back, fearful that Shelby had 
been injured. There was no sign of blood he observed with relief. Just a 
glistening wetness along the full length of his sex, the slime of love. Shelby 
breathed erratically. Slowly it dawned on Matt what had happened. His son 
had orgasmed yet again, this time more explosive and draining than before. 
Shelby was unconscious. He smiled and guided his throbbing organ back to the 
waiting orifice. It slipped in easily, entering several inches before he 
paused. 

"God damn," Matt said aloud. 

It was impossible to believe that the small body could be so affected. 
He drew back again and playfully poked Shelby's flattened scrotum with the 
bloated glans of his penis. Pre-seminal juice oozed from the meatus, leaving a 
silver thread connecting them as he returned to other activities. He tested 
the orifice again, penetrating the head without any real effort beyond a 
firm push. 

"The little fucker," he muttered as he moved the head of his penis 
back and forth. "That's some ass he's got. It's so damned big! It's feels just 
like a pussy, he's got a God-damn boy-pussy."

He surged forward, directing the axis of his shaft so that it was 
aligned with Shelby's rectum. He felt the lad's anus sliding down almost to 
his testicles. It was more like a loose band around the girth of his manhood 
without the muscular grip of the last two times.  He sighed loudly. The 
sensation was indisputably better than fucking a man, far superior to any 
woman. He pulled free again and then slammed back into the spongy softness. It 
was an incredible feeling for a man who had not enjoyed sex for nearly four 
years. He ignored the boy's inaction, pummeling his almost unconscious body 
without regret. He was strangely excited by his own power. His will, like 
his physical being, in total control, or out of control. He dominated with 
each powerful thrust, his offspring nothing less than the receptacle for his 
triumphant manhood, a vessel to carry his seed like a woman. 

He felt the inevitable approach, the tension surging in his loins, the 
pressure building until his explosion was imminent. He needed to stop to 
regain his sanity, but he could no more stop than deny himself the joy he 
had secretly longed for since he was a boy himself. He tried to slow down, but 
the reduction in the pace at which he pumped into Shelby's inert form merely 
served to amplify the sensations along the length of his shaft. Minimizing the 
distance his penis travelled inside Shelby's loose rectum, sucking gently in 
the slimy soft tissue, only increased the exposure of his bloated glans 
against his son's velvety bowels. He had reached the point beyond which he 
could not stop. He had no control of his actions. He felt the orgasm 
building as his scrotum became tighter. His swollen penis bulged for the third 
time, filling the young body, his testicles felt ready to burst. His final 
thrusts were erratic as the semen boiled within him. Again and again 
retreating all the way out only to plunge back in the child, deep and hard and 
oblivious to the possibility of hurting him.

"Ohhhhhh,... God," Matt groaned. 

He gasped, filling his lungs as he rammed in as far as he could and 
discharged with frenzied shudders. He felt his penis jerking, with every spasm 
ejaculating hot white juice deep inside his barely conscious son. His emission 
seemed to go on and on until he had no doubt that it was considerably more 
than he had ever produced before despite the fact than he had climaxed twice 
already in the space of a few hours. As soon as his testicles had emptied, 
Matt used his remaining strength to ease away, realizing that his added weight 
was a burden to the little boy under him. His now-limp penis slipped out of 
Shelby's over-stretched anus accompanied by an oozing flow of semen that 
dribbled down to expand the dark wet circle under his son's buttocks. The 
distant sounds from the kitchen, of Benton and the two youths, brought Matt 
Cassidy back to confront his sin. 

There was no pain in Shelby's face, just resignation and relief, an 
acceptance of his sexuality. But the look terrified Matt. He closed his eyes 
and saw his life concentrated in his son's face. He thought of the long 
years he had spent on the mesa without the company of women. Until now there 
was just his two beautiful sons and him living an innocent and carefree live 
with. Without social regulation, free of inhibition and artificial morality, 
he should have felt no guilt, no remorse, just enduring triumph and deep-
seated satisfaction. He opened his eyes and struggled up from the bed. 
Shelby's dazed eyes followed Matt's nude body to the doorway. The boy still 
breathed erratically, enduring the nagging discomfort deep in thought and 
silently hoping that his father was not angry with him. He felt weak and 
exposed, as if he had given everything away and received nothing back in 
return. He tried to speak, to call Matt back to the bed. He sank into silent 
shame as he turned his face and buried into the pillow beside him.

Matt paused in the doorway and watched the dust slowly settle as the a 
gust of wind disappeared down the road. There were two tracks that 
corresponded to the axle width of the pick-up. Together they moved at 
random, swerving drunkenly from side to side and bucking wildly as they 
crossed the furrows he had ploughed in Spring. His accomplices in Shelby's 
violation watched from the table in the kitchen. Paying no attention to 
them, and oblivious to his nakedness, Matt stepped off the porch and started 
to walk. 

By the time Matt had reached the barn his decision was made. Although 
equally effective, the shotgun in the house did not have the precision he 
needed. Instead, he went to the work bench and picked up the Remington. It was 
an old rifle, but it was more accurate than many of the modern semi-automatics 
at several times the price. He picked up three shells although he would only 
need one. A single bullet and it would all be over. It was then that Matt 
Cassidy saw the box of rubber bands that he used to emasculate the horses 
and bulls. Geldings, steers, and Cassidy boys, had something in common, he 
thought wryly as he remembered his younger son's injury. 

His thoughts turned to Shelby writhing in the dusty corral. He 
remembered the boy flailing on the bed. He remembered Shelby's eagerness, 
his face contorted in desire, his hot body hungry for sexual pleasure, the 
incredible stiffness of his immature penis. He had been erect when his 
father took his virginity, even experiencing orgasm during the clumsy 
erratic thrusts. He had been erect again when Matt climaxed for the second 
time in his bowels. He wanted his father to make love to him with a 
stiffness that just would not go away. Benton had not only identified Shelby 
for what he was, but what they both were. By some quirk of fate both father 
and son were the same. Matt wondered why he had not seen it earlier, but 
perhaps he had and only his self-control and Christian guilt had kept him at 
bay. 

He had seen the signs in the corral. He was no different to one of the 
stallions, he realized. He knew what he would do if given the chance, and it 
would happen again and again. It would not matter if they lived on the mesa or 
in an apartment in the suburbs. Just so long as he had Shelby and Shane to 
love, to make love to. Matt lowered the rifle to the bench and fingered the 
rubber bands thoughtfully. He felt his blood rushing towards his penis. Just 
the thought of making love to Shelby was enough to make him hard again. But 
three times in one day was too often for a ten-year-old boy, unless,.... 
Unless the fourth time was better than all the rest combined, he thought 
with lust-confused logic.

He placed the bullets on the scarred wood planks and picked up the 
bottle of neatsfoot oil. He had no doubts about he was about to do. He started 
back to the house, to Shelby. Matt Cassidy was nearly at the porch before he 
heard the echoing roar of the Benton's Jeep descending the deeply rutted 
road that led down to the canyon floor. He had no secrets to hide from Tyler 
and Juan. They knew, they understood, they accpeted. He could do whatever he 
wanted with Shelby and there would be no recriminations. What was more, 
there was still another ten hours before they had to pick Shane up at the 
pueblo. He thought about the ten long hours of the night, of Shelby naked in 
his bed, of his son's legs lifted up until his heels reached his shoulders. He 
thought of the whimpering cries of ecstasy he would hear as his penis 
pounded back and forth. Benton had shown him the way to satisfy his desire 
in a way that no woman had been able to, or would be able to now that he had 
finally tasted the forbidden pleasure that a young boy offered. 

As the sound of the engine faded away Matt considered rushing to the 
precipice overlooking the road. It was his last chance for sanity. Before, 
when he first came out of the house, his action had been motivated by not only 
by self hatred and guilt, but by the depressing thought that he had abused the 
boy he loved more than life itself. Now, he realized that he owed Benton a 
debt of gratitude. Benton had given him something he would never have taken by 
himself. He stopped on the second stair, twisting the bottle between his 
fingers as he surveyed the rugged mesa. An image of Shelby on horseback, naked 
and bareback, gripping the mane with one hand as he galloped appeared in his 
mind with startling clarity. Despite his immaturity he radiated strength and 
potency, like a boy ready for initiation in tribal lore. 

Matt closed his eyes and breathed the hot air of late afternoon. In 
the morning he would have to go down to the reservation to fetch Shane. 
Until then he would be with Shelby, and with Shelby he would forget his 
failures. He smiled wryly and opened his eyes to gaze over land that 
generations of Cassidy's had tamed. There was the ridge where his great 
grandfather had died with a dozen Navajo arrows in his chest. The western 
fence was where his father's brother had been bitten by the rattlesnake. Not a 
hundred yards away was where Shane had been kicked in the groin by his pony. 
He remembered the frantic trip in the pick-up, Shelby crouching over his 
brother holding a wet rag against a bloodied crotch, a pitiful effort to 
undo the damage inflicted by a dumb animal. And there was the corral. There in 
the dust he had taken the first step with Shelby. He smiled at the memory. 
Shelby's body arching, feet kicking up a storm of dust, leg muscles 
straining as he passed from innocent boy to know animal lust, releasing the 
pleasures contained in his loins. Now, as earlier, Matt felt a strange sense 
of detachment. He had not been oblivious to his son's agony. He merely 
accepted the inevitability of it--life, death, and sex.

There had also been an overwhelming sense of power, of controlling 
Shelby with the imminent threat of unmanning him. It was an overwhelming 
sense, like a drug coursing through his veins. He felt a similar thrill when 
he castrated the calves and foals, but it had never been so strong. And on the 
bed, the feeling intensified as he plunged his manhood into the submissive 
boy. He remembered his ex-wife. Her ability to satisfy him paled beside what 
he had experienced with Shelby. Complete and utter contentment. What did a 
woman have that a boy possessed in greater abundance? His son was much more 
than a mere substitute. 

There was no way he could stem his desire now that he had tasted 
forbidden fruit, although he tried with all his will. He clenched his fists, 
tried to deny what he needed, fruitlessly endeavored to shift his thoughts 
to other things. Always he thought of the boy inside the house, still naked on 
the bed in which he had been conceived. Matt trembled as he remembered the 
semen oozing from between his son's cheeks. He wiped his brow and sighed as he 
started into the house.

"God damn, I might as well stop wastin' time and get it done." 

He barely noticed the check for fifty thousand dollars lying on the 
kitchen table amid the scraps of food. He heard Juan and Tyler behind the 
curtained alcove that served as his sons' bedroom. He smiled slightly, 
imagining the possibilities with two youths and his own two sons. There were 
interesting possibilities.

Shelby looked up and smiled weakly. His dark eyes followed Matt as he 
approached the side of the bed. His hair was unkempt, tangled and still damp 
as though he had just come from a bath. 

"You feel okay, boy?" Matt asked abruptly. He felt his desire rising, 
growing from deep within him. A longing to couple, to use his son as a woman.

Shelby's head shook slightly. "I hurt some. I'm okay"

"Your ass hurts somethin' awful, I bet." Shelby swallowed and nodded 
slightly. "Don't worry, you ain't hurt bad. It gets a bit tore up inside 
with a man. I didn't see no blood the last time." 

"Da, are you mad?" Shelby whispered. 

Matt's eyes narrowed. Mad, he wondered. Perhaps he was. Maybe that 
came with living on the mesa. But that wasn't what Shelby was asking. 

"No son, I'm not angry with you for what happened. It wasn't your fault. 
I blame myself." Matt took a deep breath, fingering the bottle of oil. 
"Shelby," he began awkwardly. "I'm sorry what I did to you. I shouldn'ha." 

"Da,.... It's okay. I didn't want them to see,... I wanted to do it." 

Matt nodded. He understood. Charro had not forced him, although for a 
long time he had forced himself to believe otherwise. It came with living on 
the mesa, from being lonely, from something deep and hidden within. He eased 
himself down onto the bed. Shelby's eyes met his, sharing the same need, 
liberated desires reverberating between them. 

"You goin' to put it in me again, Da?" Shelby whispered. 

Matt nodded. "I'm goin' to fill your ass up with this oil first," he 
said quietly as he unscrewed the cap. "Then I'm goin' to fuck you again, 
boy. You want me to fuck you, don't you? That's what you want, isn't it? You 
want me inside you, don't you?" 

Shelby nodded once. At that moment both father and son realized that 
they had reached the end of the line.


THE END OF THE LINE.