Date: Sun, 12 Jan 2014 09:38:48 -0800
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Mr. Wilkerson

Mr. Wilkerson

by Jon Hold

jonhold@Earthlink.net

Copyright ©2012, 2014 by Jon Hold



This story was inspired by the Harry Bush drawing, "Premature Ejaculation."



Toby Wilks an actual, boneified Southern "Good Ol' Boy". He was also white
trash. His daddy never bothered to marry his momma, although he did stop by
from time to time to screw her and give her another baby. Toby's Momma
wasn't what you'd call terribly bright. She raised her brood on the welfare
money she collected, and a few "presents" from gentlemen visitors. She
usually made the men wear rubbers, so most of Toby's flock of younger
brothers and sisters were probably sired by his father. Sometimes though,
Momma would get drunk and bring home three or four young guys and have a
regular old gangbang. The old shack they lived in didn't have a separate
bedroom. Some of Toby's earliest memories were of watching his daddy or one
or more of Momma's "Friends" serving her. His daddy had a big ol' dick and
Toby loved to roll out of his pallet on the floor and crawl over to the end
of his Momma's bed and watch his daddy pump that big ol' thing to her. If
it was real hot and sticky his daddy's balls would hang way down and Toby
wouldn't be able to see much of the fucking. On nights like that he'd hold
his daddy's balls up out of the way so he could see. Daddy didn't mind at
all.

School was pretty much a sometime thing for Toby. He spent most of the time
collecting bottles and doing chores for folks for enough money to help feed
his brothers and sisters. The land the shack was on was owned by the Widow
Parsons, and when she died her brother, a Northerner named Mr. George
Wilkerson, moved into her house. Right from the beginning he made Toby do
all sorts of chores, mowing his lawn, cleaning up any messes, planting
flowers, anything that would help pay the rent. Mr. Wilkerson was kind of a
grouchy old man and didn't take any nonsense from Toby at all. No matter
where they were, he'd pull Toby's pants down and belt his ass if Toby
screwed up. Even after Toby started getting bigger and growing hair,
Mr. Wilkerson would still, for even less reason, pull those pants down and
warm Toby's ass up but good.

Mr. Wilkerson was always showing Toby how to do stuff, and was real patient
as long as the boy was trying to learn. Toby responded to Mr. Wilkerson's
attention with a deep fascination and a sincere attachment to the gruff old
man. Nobody else had much time for Toby and Mr. Wilkerson was actually the
only one who ever paid him much never-mind. Mr. Wilkerson caught twelve
year old Toby playing with his hairless willie out in one of the sheds one
day and whooped his ass black and blue with a wide leather belt, telling
Toby that he'd got straight to hell for playing with himself like
that. After that Toby got regular lectures about the perils of self-abuse
and horror stories about what would happen if he touched anyone else until
after he was married. He knew his Momma wasn't married and he know how bad
things were for her, so he believed Mr. Wilkerson. That Sunday
Mr. Wilkerson took Toby to church and every Sunday after that Toby had to
be at Mr. Wilkerson's house, clean and in his best clothes at 9 AM
sharp. If Toby had to go to the bathroom when working for Mr. Wilkerson, he
had to tell Mr. Wilkerson who would supervise Toby, either in the outhouse
if they were outside working, or with the bathroom door wide open if they
were inside.  Then he'd watch and make sure Toby washed up properly. If
Toby sat down, Mr. Wilkerson had to inspect to make sure the boy had wiped
clean. Any infraction led to a strapping.

The day of Toby's baptism, Mr. Wilkerson made the barely teenaged boy come
into the house and strip off naked. he then put the boy in the big,
iron-clawed bathtub and scrubbed his hide until the boy's whole body had a
rosy glow. After being dried Toby had a boner that just wouldn't go away so
Mr. Wilkerson put a figure-eight of cloth tape around the hard shaft and
taped the protrusion down between the boys legs. Toby didn't want
Mr. Wilkerson to do that, but a good belting changed his mind. Then
Mr. Wilkerson held a brand new, pure white pair of Jockey shorts while Toby
stepped into them. Then he pulled a new white t-shirt over the boys
head. Toby was in tears. Not only was this the first time he'd ever worn
underclothing, it was the first time he'd ever worn anything
new. Mr. Wilkerson led him into the guest bedroom where he helped the now
dazed boy put on a brand new black suit complete with black stockings and
brand new shoes that Mr. Wilkerson even tied for him.

While Mr. Wilkerson was dressing himself the excited boy kept tearing back
and forth between being amazed at himself in the old full-length mirror and
trying to thank the old man, who really just wanted to be left alone long
enough to get dressed so they wouldn't be late to church. Mr. Wilkerson
finally had to pull the boys brand new black slacks down. But when
Mr. Wilkerson went to pull Toby's new white underpants down, they were a
wet and sticky mess from Toby's excitement. Mr. Wilkerson checked to make
sure the tape was still holding Toby in place and then gave the boy a good
bare-handed spanking right through his prized undershorts --- which caused
Toby, as he and Mr. Wilkerson were both aware, to add to the mess in his
pants. Mr. Wilkerson pulled up Toby's new black slacks and fastened them
for him. After checking to make sure Toby's mess didn't show through the
new pants, Mr. Wilkerson took him by the hand and off to church.

Toby became very dutiful about attending church every Sunday with
Mr. Wilkerson. He became very conscientious about reminding Mr. Wilkerson
to tape down his "thing" to ensure his not putting on an improper display
while at church. I was one thing to walk around with a boner in his
overalls all day while working for Mr. Wilkerson, and quite another to show
wood in his Sunday best. One Sunday Toby passed gas during the sermon,
seriously disturbing everyone sitting near he and Mr. Wilkerson. The
following week Mr. Wilkerson inserted a large rubber plug into the quiet
boy, explaining that if Toby couldn't control himself, then Mr. Wilkerson
would have to help the boy control his bodily functions. From then on
having his dick strapped down and his butt plugged were just part of
getting dressed for church. At first Toby walked sort of funny, but he
quickly adapted and Mr. Wilkerson would sit and watch him play with the
other boys after services. If Toby got sweaty, which he most often
did. Mr. Wilkerson would give him another bath when they returned. Toby
would fart a great deal after Mr. Wilkerson removed the plug, which really
wasn't very surprising considering that Ms. Wilks fed her children mostly
cabbage and beans.

Gradually Toby began working almost full time for Mr. Wilkerson. He studied
what Mr. Wilkerson wanted him to learn to be a better worker, reading,
writing, math, history, the classics. Since Mr. Wilkerson was a teacher
with no intent of spoiling the child to spare the rod, Toby learned to
learn quickly and accurately and to study seriously. A stranger walking by
would have been surprised hearing an obviously ignorant redneck working in
the garden quoting line after line of poetry, in French, or entire sections
of drama in the original Greek. Mr. Wilkerson was a severe teacher, but a
good one.

The few times that Toby was very, very bad, like the time he got caught
stealing from the hardware store, Mr. Wilkerson would take him out to the
barn and strip him naked and then chain his arms to an overhead beam before
spreading his legs and chaining them off to the sides. Suspended like that,
just hanging there, Toby would receive punishment strokes all over his
body, front and back, from a special leather strop. The boy always spent a
day or two in bed after one of these punishment sessions, but would return
to Mr. Wilkerson more dedicated and intense than ever. Deeply apologetic
for his misbehavior.

The day of Toby's eighteenth birthday he packed his few things and left,
never looking back at the shack as he walked up the dirt road to
Mr. Wilkerson's. He knocked on the back door and waited for Mr. Wilkerson
to come say howdy. When he was invited inside, Toby put his small package
of belongings on the kitchen table and turned to face Mr. Wilkerson.

"Mr. Wilkerson. I done turned (you can educate a Southern boy, but you
can't take the South out of a Southern boy) eighteen today, and I done left
home and I ain't never goin' back. Not never. I'd be right proud if I could
work for you full-time Mr. Wilkerson. I'd do whatever you told me to do and
I could sleep out in the barn. I wouldn't be no trouble at all
Mr. Wilkerson. and you know I'd work hard for you."

George Wilkerson looked the neighbor boy over with a fresh eye. It had been
a long time since the scrawny ten-year-old had first come begging at his
door. Before him was an obviously well nourished, pleasant looking and
athletic young man standing over six foot tall in a powerful and well
shaped body. George knew that he was largely responsible for the boy's not
having become one of the local lost causes, but suddenly the boy was no
longer a boy, not a child to be disciplined and taught, but a young man to
be trusted and employed at greater tasks than planting petunias. Narrow
hips were topped by a broad chest and obviously powerful shoulders. The
shaggy haircut covered a functional and well trained brain that looked out
at the world, and George Wilkerson in particular, with longing. "So. You're
a man today. You know that you can go off and do what ever you want, don't
you?"

"I wanna work for you Mr. Wilkerson. I kin be your chauffeur, or your Man
Friday, or your gardner. Whatever you want me to be Mr. Wilkerson."

George Wilkerson looked closely at the boy. "You're lying to me, Boy. To
hell with the bullshit you've thought up. What is it you really want?"

Hanging his head, on the verge of tears, Toby quietly whispered, a gentle
susurious of sound barely heard, "I just want to be your boy, Sir."

George looked up at the boy, half formed tears glinting behind his thick
glasses. His fingertips reached up and touched the smooth cheek of the
beautiful young man as his mind filled with thoughts of the only son his
beloved Cora had been able to give him. Dead at seven of leukemia. His Cora
following the boy soon after. Dead of a broken heart. Toby was only two
days older than his own Jourdy and George suddenly realized how much he
truly missed his son --- and how much this boy had been filling the empty
spot. And how hard he'd been on Toby to make him the perfect child he'd
imagined Jourdy would have been.

Taking Toby by the hand, humbled by his sense of loss, George led Toby
through the living room and into the hallway that led to the bedroom wing
of the big old house. Opening the door of the bedroom across the hall from
his own, George led Toby inside. The room had no personality, except a
faint feminine essence in the off-white paint of ceiling and walls. in the
gold leaf outlining the curves of the white French Provençal chest of
drawers and the dressing table. The bed was a simple narrow couch, valenced
in white with a soft blanket of the palest of robin's egg blues. The floor
a simple expanse of waxed wood.

Toby stood patiently as Mr. Wilkerson slowly unbuttoned his shirt and
pushed it back over his broad shoulders. The old mans age-softened hands
wonderingly caressed the boys hairless chest and belly. Toby sucked air but
held still when Mr. Wilkerson gently played with tiny nipples. Sucked even
more air when the questing fingertips pulled at the narrow line of hair
that lead from his neat little innie bellybutton down into his pants.

"Lay down, Boy," Mr. Wilkerson said as he ran his hands up Toby's smooth
torso. "There's something I want to see.

Toby grinned as he laid down. There was always something the old man
"wanted to see." A surge of excitement ran through Toby's body as he
realized that this was the first time he'd actually been the focus of
Mr. Wilkerson's undivided attention without Mr. Wilkerson being upset with
him. Mr. Wilkerson took off Toby's shoes and socks, running his hands over
the boy's well-formed, slightly sweaty and very male-smelling feet. Pants
were quickly shucked off, leaving the boy laying on the small bed wearing
only his white Jockey shorts.

Mr. Wilkerson silently stood and stripped off his own clothing until he was
standing in front of Toby wearing no more than the boy was, a heavy, thick
piece of meat creating a wide tube in the mans white briefs.

Toby reached up and touched the bulge in Mr. Wilkerson's
undershorts. Seeing the lust in the old man's eyes, Toby laid back on the
bed and smiled, putting his arms behind his head and spreading his legs,
making himself completely available to Mr. Wilkerson, who wasted no time
running his hands all over the boys hairy legs and hairless torso, spending
a goodly amount of time groping the boy and feeling him up real good. Toby
responded with happy groans and a happy bone that tented his shorts and
created a big wet spot surrounding his short, but very thick boytoy.

Mr. Wilkerson smelled Toby's masculine musk and buried his face in the
boy's armpit, licking both warm, hairy pockets spotlessly clean. The smell
and taste of clean, sweaty boy flesh putting Mr. Wilkerson on the rail in a
major way. Mr. Wilkerson grabbed Toby's undershorts and ripped them off as
he practically drooled over the boy's hot body. Responsible for a growing
youth, Mr. Wilkerson had kept his urges and fantasies under control. He had
suddenly been made aware that the young man in front of him was no longer a
boy. No longer a child. He was an adult, decision-making person with a
luscious cock and beautiful body.

Mr. Wilkerson found himself on his knees next to the boy's new bed
praying. Praying that the cock down his throat didn't choke him to death
before he sucked a mouthful of that delicious smelling cum the boy was
always producing. For his part, Toby was doing a little praying of his own,
not that the Reverend Mr. Jackson would have approved of the subject
matter, but Toby was praying out loud that his Daddy would use his butt for
pleasure.

Mr. Wilkerson froze, and pulled up off of Toby's prong. Staring at the boy.

Toby's eyes started filling with tears, knowing he'd just ruined everything
with his big mouth.

Time froze, Toby's heart pounding in fear.

Mr. Wilkerson leaned forward and took Toby's face between his hands, kand
kissed him. Long, slow and thoroughly. Pulling back and looking deeply into
Toby's eyes, "I used that butt of your's to grow you into the finest man I
know. Daddy would be proud to teach you the pleasure a fine ass like yours
deserves, Son...