Date: Fri, 20 May 2016 06:27:08 -0700
From: Jon Hold <jonhold@earthlink.net>
Subject: Modern Ranching

M+T+  education, conflict, incest, ranch, cowboys, city boys, prolific authors


Modern Ranching
by Jon Hold
Copyright ©2006, 2016 by the Author
Jonhxold@earxthlink.next


Once Upon A Time,


It was actually my Dad's idea. I've just kept it going. It's surprising to
me just how many of the really rich want their sons well educated, erudite,
cosmopolitan. They want them to attend all the right schools and to make
all the right contacts. Yet they really don't want their boys to grow up
being snobs or sissies. Likewise wimps, wusses, washouts, asswipes,
dumbshits, or shitbirds.

Dad was raised on a South Dakota ranch, attended the local public schools
and the only college he ever had was two years at the local community
college.  All of which made his success as a stock broker all the more
amazing. He had an intuitive grasp of numbers and a natural understanding
of how the stock market really worked. His most powerful tool to success
though was a marvelous outgoing and sincere personality. He truly liked and
cared about people, and people wanted to be liked by him. Dad's good looks,
6' 4" of beautifully muscled frame, and his truly magnificent cock and
balls stood him in good stead. Especially since he had no hang-ups about
sharing himself with his clients, female, male or unsure.

Dad retired at 50 with approximately 10% more money than the IRS and took
me to a ranch he had bought in the wilds of Montana. His current (fourth)
WIFE flounced off to Europe in a snit, refusing to even consider living in
the outback. I heard later that she'd had a nervous collapse when she
discovered that the fine print in the marriage contract limited her to a
one-time $5,000 settlement. My Dad had GOOD lawyers. He also had a spoiled,
snobbish, uptight, too-good-to-soil-his-hands rich-bitches son on his
hands.

Dad completely renovated the ranch, updating all the buildings, putting in
new fence wherever needed, sold and bought stock. He renovated my young ass
at the same time, convincing me that he wanted a partner, not some
sissified dandy for a son. What seemed like punishment at first became the
best parts of my life. Dad burned all my tailored clothes and I still
refused to wear the "plebeian" blue jeans and cowboy shirts he had bought
for me. He took his belt off and, a little later, I went outside and did a
hard days work under the blazing summer sun — with an ass that was
bright red even before the sun got to it. When my tender feet started going
lame, Dad let me put on the boots he had bought me. Other than that I had
to go naked in front of all the construction workers and ranch hands.

That was just the beginning of my transformation. I went from total
embarrassment to actually enjoying the way all those men kept eyeballing
me. One day I was filthy from cleaning out one of the sheds and
whitewashing it. Dad took me into his shower and gently bathed me, not
sparing my modesty by passing up my genitals or ass. When he carefully
washed my butthole I thought I was going to jump out of my skin. My boner
was beating against my belly, which didn't seem to bother Dad at all. He
patted me dry and put lotion on my sunburned places. He even tickled me
applying some to my butthole, both of us laughing as I (not very
concentratedly) tried to escape. My every move foiled by his powerful
muscles and quickness.

Having my naked father rubbing against me, trying to poke a finger inside
me, touching me and letting me touch him, well... I was almost more than I
could take. Panting, Dad picked me up under his burly arm and carried me
into his bedroom, telling me I was too strong for him (a base lie) and too
quick for him (another lie). He laid down beside me in his monstrous huge
bed and kissed me, patted me and caressed me. When I'd calmed down and
still couldn't get to sleep, he, quietly and without fuss, took my
throbbing boner into his mouth and did things to me that no-one had ever
done before. I couldn't stand it. I grabbed his head and pumped his face —
HARD! After the most wonderful ejaculation I'd ever experienced, I quickly
dropped off to sleep.

The next morning I woke up to the first glimmer of dawn. My father's heat
beating into my heart and groin from where he lay curled up against my
back. I lay there enjoying the sounds of early morning and the shared
warmth created by my father and me. Slowly I became aware that a great part
of my enjoyment came from a certain thick, hard protuberance from my dad's
body that was heating up the crack of my ass. Without actually thinking
about what I was doing, I had managed to back my hard young butt into my
dad's groin, wedging what had become a stout erection between the smooth
round mounds of my butt cheeks. Rubbing up and down just the tiniest bit
stimulated my virgin flesh more than I had ever been stimulated
before. Staring over the bedcovers, I finally focused on the nightstand ---
and the nastiest idea crossed my mind.

In ultra-stealth mode, I got the jar of Vaseline off the nightstand and
opened it. Very carefully, I started coating dad's bloated meat with the
thick grease. After several trips back the the Vaseline jar, Dad's cock was
greasy and throbbing. I lifted my leg a bit and reached back between my
legs. I was amazed at how wonderful it felt to touch myself back there. I
thought it would be nasty, not the best feeling I'd ever had. Working a
finger up inside of myself was an exercise in perfect delight. I kept
focusing back and forth between the feel of my finger penetrating my never
before penetrated hole and the wonder of being penetrated. The feeling of
velvet softness and hardened slickness; moist warmth and dry roughness. As
I was working on getting a fourth finger up inside me, absolutely bedazzled
by the feelings I was generating inside myself, I became aware that
masturbation was always great, but it had never felt nearly as good as this
new game of fingering myself.

I was trying to form four fingers into a cone that would penetrate my now
super-needy butthole when I felt the head of Dad's cock in the palm of my
hand. I'd been so self absorbed I'd really sort of forgotten that Dad was
in bed with me. Well, providence is the mother of invention, and Dad's
invention was just the right size and shape for what I needed/wanted to
try. I wrapped my hand around Daddy's slick fullness and guided the bulbous
end right up against my puckering, twitching hole. I guess I sorta really
got focused on the unbelievable sensations that were wracking my
body. Pushing with my hand, wiggling my butt all over the blunt head,
nothing seemed to be helping me do any more than just sort of spread the
lips of my ass far enough to let Dad's single eye peek inside.

Then my brain burst with sensation. The cockhead was penetrating
me. Spreading my hole, opening me, penetrating me deeper. I could feel it
gliding up inside me. The pressure filling me, making me want to crap and
cry and orgasm all at the same time. Some interminable and wondrous time
later I hunched back a tiny bit and felt Dad's pubes crush against the
delicate flesh of my behind.

Horror! Panic!! Trying to struggle free!!! Crying out in shame and
agony. It had finally soaked through my pleasure besotted brain that I was
not alone. That I had not accomplished full penetration of my ass without
assistance. One of my Dad's strong, furry forearms was clamped across my
chest, fingers pulling and teasing my pert little tiny titty. The other was
wrapped around my waist from above. Dad was nuzzling my neck and licking my
ears, one leg up over my thighs as he scrunched us even closer together.

"Good idea, Son," was all I heard as Dad began taking the rest of the
morning to leisurely teach me all about getting fucked, a son's duty to his
father, a father's duty to his sons, and just exactly why fathers and sons
should get to know one another MUCH better. My final test was to prove to
my Dad that I had learned what he was trying to teach me. As hard as I
tried, it still took weeks of intensive study and practice before Dad was
convinced that I could fuck him every bit as good as he fucked me, and I
never once complained about all the homework involved, neither the
classwork nor the rather strenuous lab work.

Dad and I started working together as a team instead of constantly being at
odds with each other. Dad got everyone together and told them that since we
were in such an isolated place and there were nothing but men present,
clothing would be optional. Anyone who had a problem with that could get
their final check, with severance pay, and a free trip to town. Over the
next several weeks housing assignments (four men to a cabin) changed quite
a bit, as did the clothing worn. One carpenter whacked his rather long tool
with a hammer and, after that, all the carpenter's wore shorts, Jockey's,
or athletic supporters as well as their boots! At least to work. Angry
outbreaks lessened and fighting virtually disappeared. One man got
possessive and abusive and was asked to leave, but other than that everyone
settled into the new plan very smoothly.

I really enjoyed seeing the men strut their stuff, and enjoyed it even more
when they'd get all horny for a boy—especially since I was the only boy
available. That gave Dad the idea of doing the same thing for some of his
(ex)clients with teen-aged boys.

I was surprised, but there actually were people willing to pay (a lot) to
have their sons taught some of the realities of life. The first that showed
up were Thomas and Billy, fraternal twin brothers. Blond, blue-eyed, very
shy. Thomas was a big, hairy kid with a really big bulge in his
britches. Billy was just as short and smooth as Thomas was tall and hairy.

Dad and I talked it over and Thomas was assigned to the cabin of four
roughneck carpenters. Hard-charging studs all. They informed Thomas that he
would start out as houseboy, responsible for keeping the cabin and their
clothes clean and doing any other chores one of them might assign. The big
kid told them to kiss his ass, there was no way he'd clean up after
them. Thomas put on quite a show. Yelling and screaming, threatening my dad
with all sorts of legal trouble. Dad just laughed and told Thomas to have a
wonderful time. There was no telephone anywhere on the ranch and it was 25
miles to the county road and another 20 miles to the nearest house from
there. Thomas ended up spending the night in the barn with no lunch or
dinner. [One cabin. Four Carpenters. Four Beds. One boy. You do the math.]

Billy was a different story altogether. He moved in with four guys who
hadn't really paired up, they just bunked together. Billy was shy but the
guys introduced themselves and told him he was supposed to be their
houseboy. Billy said, "Fine," and then asked, "Are you guys really
cowboys?"

"Greg is," Tom said. "But I'm a plumber, Tony's an electrician and Brad,
`Mr. Broadbent to you, is the general construction foreman.

"WOW!" was Billy's only response as he stared up at 6'5" cowboy Greg,
ignoring the other three men..

It wasn't a work day so the guys just sat around on the porch talking,
keeping their hands busy with mending, whittling, or braiding. Billy
watched and listened, especially to Greg. Billy thought lunch was great and
really liked the cook, a hulking black guy who looked like a thug and
talked like a college professor. After lunch Greg said that he had some
chores to do down at the barn and Billy trotted along behind him, totally
enraptured and willing to do whatever Greg told him to do.

When they got to the barn Billy asked if he could help Greg do his
chores. Greg, thoughtful and slow to respond, looked the light-in-the-ass
boy over and sort of shook his head... In disbelief or denial Billy
couldn't tell for sure, but he was sure that "No" was NOT an answer he
wanted to hear, nor was he willing to accept an answer like that without a
fight. "I'm a lot stronger than I look, and anything I do will be just that
much less for you to do, right?!"

Tall, lanky Greg shook his head again, but this time he was
grinning. "You're right, Boy. Anything you do will be a help. But we're
gonna be mucking out the stalls, so you better take those fancy duds
off. You don't want to get them all mucky!"

Billy didn't hesitate. He had no idea what "mucking out" meant, but he
immediately took all his clothes off and hung them on a nail in the wall
just like his new cowboy idol had told him.

"Better put your boots back on. Don't need socks, jest y'er boots!"
Motioning to the boy to follow him, Greg started off towards the stalls.

"Mr. Greg. Don't you think you'd better not mess your clothes up?"

"Nah. My clothes are used to getting dirty."

"Yeah, but if I'm gonna be the houseboy that means I'm the one who'll have
to wash them. And I don't want to wash no mucky clothes."

Grinning, Cowboy Greg allowed as how what the boy said made sense so he
hung his clothes up on top of Billy's and put his boots back on. Billy was
staring, just standing there with his mouth hanging open. Greg said, "Come
on, Boy. Ain't you never seen a naked man before?"

Blinking. In shock. Totally out of character, honesty burst right through
Billy's bemusement. Dick totally erect, the eager young man said, "Damn!
NOBODY has a dick that big!"

"I do!", chortled Greg. "Tell you what, Boy. You work good and I'll let you
measure it yourself."

"You mean you'll let me touch it?"

"Don't see how you can measure it without touching me some. Do you?"

"NO, SIR!", Billy happily exclaimed, following close behind Greg to learn
how to muck out stalls.

Greg was pleased with how the boy paid attention and how fast he
learned. How he worked like a little demon trying to keep up with the man
he obviously idolized. Billy only wasted about half the time staring at
"his" cowboy as he worked. Three-quarters tops!

Tommy was hiding out behind the barn when he saw his younger (by 17
minutes) brother come around the corner walking right behind a big, buff
stud wearing nothing but a cowboy hat and some boots. Which was one hat
more than his brother was wearing. They went out to the hose stand and
washed each other, now wearing boners without the boots or hat. Billy used
his hands to measure his cowboy's big cock while the cowboy was using the
hose to clean out Billy's backside. They finally laid down in a thick patch
of grass to let the sun dry them except Billy kept "measuring" his cowboy,
using his hands, dick and mouth until the man came all over himself and
Billy necessitating another trip to the hose-stand. After that the cowboy
made Billy use his mouth to keep the mess under control for his next three
orgasms.

The other guys enjoyed clean living quarters and fresh, sun-dried clothes,
but Greg was the only one with a warm and eager boy in his bed every
night. Billy noticed how randy the other three guys were getting and asked
Greg why they were so tense and short tempered. Greg explained mens needs
and how him and Billy constantly having sex together affected them. Greg
and Billy talked about the problem the next day and after dinner, when
everyone was back in the cabin, Billy made a production out of stripping
naked right in front of everyone. New-baby naked (Greg had shaved off every
bit of hair below the boys ears) and boned to the max, Billy headed for the
shower, four pairs of eyes locked on his every step. Smiling at all four
men, Billy announced, "I'm gonna take a shower. Anyone who wants to join me
is welcome—as long as they're polite." Billy then sashayed his young ass
directly into the shower room. The men laid there, sort of paralyzed,
looked at Greg, who just nodded towards the bathroom. Erections leading the
way, the three roommates headed for a late night shower, loosing whatever
they'd worn to bed along the way. Billy was waiting for them, already on
his knees.



——-

A veteran is someone who, at one point in their life, wrote a blank check
made payable to The United States of America for any amount, up to and
including their life.