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Subject: Last of the Line Chapter 15 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn’t your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you’ve come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable – you’re in the right place. Don’t leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty – these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. fty/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 15 We found Quiggin standing over Lessing, looking panic-stricken. Lara and Joe stood nearby. There was no sign of Lewis or Dugald. “He’s been shot,” sobbed Quiggin. Shot he might have been, but Lessing was still very much alive. I’d seen a keeper peppered in the leg by a shotgun once, and that was where Lessing had been hit. There was a lot of blood, but Lessing was pouring forth a stream of obscenities – observations about the parentage of jillies and what might befall any jilly unlucky enough to be caught by Lessing – sufficient to convince me that Lessing might be badly injured, but he was far from death’s door. “Where are the other two?” I said. Quiggin ignored me. I slapped his face. “Snap out of it, Peter, howling does no fucking good. Where are Lewis and MacDonald?” He pointed towards the road. “Lewis is there with a jilly. You’d better go and help. Dugald’s gone to Jock to get an ambulance.” “Stay here and look after your Pup. Come on, Dan.” There was nothing we could do for poor Lessing, but a captured jilly might need three of us to hold him down. “Where are you, Lewis?” I called. “Here.” Dan and I ran over to where we found Lewis sitting on a small figure. A shotgun was on the ground a few feet away. I reached down to break it – there was still a cartridge in the second barrel. Lara and Joe appeared. The jilly was now hopelessly outnumbered, but he was still cursing loudly. “The fuckers have fucked off and left me behind. Bastards,” he shrieked. I shone my torch on him. He had a balaclava on which I took off, revealing a black face – rather cute, but full of rage. To our amazement he couldn’t have been more than 12, “What’s your name?” said Lewis. “None o’ your fucking business.” “Is this your shotgun – no, it can’t be, you’re too young – did you nick this gun from one of the others?” I said. “No, I fucking didn’t. Didn’t fire the fucking thing either. Wish I had.” He paused. “Is your pal dead?” I replied quickly – it made sense not to let him off the hook too easily. “Won’t know for sure till the ambulance and the police get here, but … well … ” I ended incoherently. The jilly paled. “Fuck!” he said quietly, “we didn’t want to kill nobody.” “Get off him, Lewis, he’s just a kid,” I said and turned to the boy. “Don’t try to run off, or this big bugger’ll clobber you with his club.” Lewis got off and the boy sat up, rubbing his head where Lewis had sat on it. He looked very small, very vulnerable and very frightened. “What the hell are you up to?” snarled Lewis. “For God’s sake, shut up,” I said, “we won’t get anywhere if you terrify him even more.” I picked up the shotgun. “Did you fire this?” He shook his head. “Do you know who did?” He shook his head again. “Look,” I said, “there are going to be cops here any minute. If you were merely one of a bunch of people, and all you did was come along for some mischief, say so now. We’re not going to turn you in if all you are is a silly kid who did something stupid.” “What the hell are you playing at, Cunliffe?” roared Lewis, “he’s bloody nearly killed Lessing.” “Oh, for fuck’s sake, Lewis, he hasn’t done anything. That shotgun’s far too big for him to fire. Someone shot at Lessing, but it wasn’t this one. Whoever it was got away in the car.” Our prisoner looked slightly less terrified. “You’re right, mister. I don’t know who it was, but it wasn’t one of us kids. Four of us thought it’d be fun to come up ‘ere and cause a hullabaloo – me brother and his pals – and when we said we were going to then four blokes we’d never seen before – not from the town – said they’d come along and give us a lift in a big van. One of them ‘ad the gun. Bastards drove off without me too.” So our captive was a real live VK! I could hear people coming shouting that they were ambulance men, and we should not be alarmed. I had no idea whether there would be police with them, but it seemed likely. I bent down and spoke quietly to the boy. “Look, the cops are coming. If we turn you in you’ll be in real trouble, because they’re going to pin the gun on you. You’re the only one caught, and they won’t bother looking for anyone else. If you agree to keep your mouth shut and do what we tell you we won’t turn you in. OK?” He nodded. “What’s your name?” “Jack, mister.” I turned to Lewis. “Why don’t you go and help them deal with Lessing. Quiggin doesn’t seem to be much use to anyone. I’ll stay here with the Pups. Quick!” Lewis, not being the brightest of souls, saw that he was being given a job to do, and trotted off. “Here’s the deal, Jack. We smuggle you back to our quarters until the morning. We’ll get you off the school grounds and you make your own way back home. You were never here. OK?” “Yes, mister, but why? Why are kırklareli escort you being nice to me?” Dan, ever quick on the uptake, bent forward and whispered something none of us could hear. Jack’s eyes widened. “Are you sure?” he whispered. It was Dan’s turn to nod. “All of you?” Dan whispered again. The boy smiled, turned to me and whispered, “OK.” “Dan, you and Lara and Joe, take Jack back. At this time of night there’ll be so much going on that you should be able to get him in if there’s a bunch of you. Here, put his balaclava back on. In my Den with him, Dan, you too. You other two bugger off back and clean up and go to bed. There won’t be any more trouble tonight.” Off they went. I picked up the shotgun and went to meet up with Quiggin and what remained of Lessing. The ambulance men had cut away his trousers to reveal a lot of damage to his right leg. He had stopped cursing and the pain had kicked in. Luckily the police hadn’t arrived yet. I left them to it as I wanted Jock to get my version of the story first. I found him by the door looking out for us. I told him that Lessing would be OK, but would need time in hospital. “How do you know, Dab?” “I’ve seen shotgun wounds before, Sir, and they look a lot worse than they are. He’s not bleeding like a pig so they didn’t hit an artery. I’ve no idea whether his leg’s broken, but I think it’s likely. The ambulance men are with him, so he’s in good hands.” “Thank you. Are there any jillies?” “No, Sir, they must have got away. I heard a car drive off. There was one boy left, but he escaped. We didn’t manage to stop him. He was far too small to have fired the shotgun though – here it is.” I handed the gun and the cartridge to him. “Well done, Dab. I must phone poor Lessing’s parents, but perhaps it will be best in the morning after I’ve had a report from the hospital.” There wasn’t any more for me to do, so I left him to it. In my Den I found Dan and Jack, still camouflaged. “You got him in all right?” “Yes. No-one saw us.” “Good. The next thing is to clean up. Go to Goderich and get a couple of towels and meet us in the showers.” Dan went off, leaving Jack with me. “How old are you, Jack?” Nerves had got to the boy, because he was shivering. “I’m 12, nearly 13.” “What do you think your brother is feeling right now, now that he’s safe and you’re captured?” He shook his head. “Dunno,” he mumbled, “bastards left me, didn’t they.” It didn’t seem likely that Jack’s family was about to appear demanding his immediate return. “Will your folks worry?” “Nah.” It seemed odd to me, but I didn’t press him. “Come on, we’ve got to get you cleaned up.” Jack looked decidedly alarmed, but I put my arm round his shoulder, “come on Jack, it’s OK. No-one’ll see us.” Dan was already in the showers. I stripped off. “Off with your clothes, Jack,” I said briskly, “and under the shower with Dan.” Jack stripped off much less hesitantly than I’d expected and looked to where Dan was soaping himself. His eyes were fixed on Dan’s cock. “Is he … am I … wow!” I turned his face to mine. “Yes, Jack, that’s the cost of freedom. Him and me. But we’re very considerate.” I needn’t have wasted my breath, for Jack’s cock was signalling that what was going to befall him was not by any means a disaster. “You’ve been fucked before, haven’t you, Jack?” “Yeah. Me brother and ‘is mates. They fuck me regular. But your mate’s got a whopper. Could be fun,” and he moved swiftly to stand under the shower close – very close – to the whopper. Dan looked happily towards me. I smiled. It would be a night to remember. “Don’t do anything, you two,” I said, “not until we’re in the Den.” Dan disobeyed me, but only to the extent of feeling Jack’s cock. As Jack did the same I was content to turn a blind eye. That’s not strictly true as what I did was keep my mouth shut: my eyes were feasting on the spectacle of two black boys, each slim and hard of cock, allowing the water to cascade over their bodies. It was not a sight I had expected to see. Were all VKs as attractive as this one? When we smuggled Jack back to the Den I made the two boys get into bed. “Keep him warm, Dan, but that’s all. Now, Jack, tell me everything. I will need to report to the Housemaster in the morning. I gave him the shotgun, by the way.” Jack’s eyes widened. “You’re not going to hand me over are you?” “No, Jack, I promise. Now who are you and what happened?” ***** Jack and his brother had fled from the rioting in London two years earlier. Although they lived in a largely black community, and felt reasonably safe there, a bunch of jillies had decided that blacks were a menace, taking ‘our’ jobs, preying on ‘our’ women, all sorts of racist rubbish. I’d not known then that the tolerance – well, relative tolerance – of different races which had gradually evolved in the last 20 years of the 20th Century had gone sharply into reverse not long after I was born. It was obvious really, all that unemployment was bound to cause tensions, and if the perceived enemy looked different then he was easy to target. Jack had never known a time of racial tolerance, poor boy, and was never likely to. His street was attacked by a mob with petrol bombs and three houses had been set alight. Jack’s father escaped with Jack, his mother and three little ones were caught kırşehir escort and died in the flames. Jack’s brother hadn’t been in the house when it happened, but came home to find his family destroyed. Their father had left Jack with a neighbour a few houses further along – away from the jillies – and had gone to tackle the mob. They found his body, clubbed to death, the next day. “Dodo found me the next day after he found Dad. ‘We’re not staying here’, he said, and we told the neighbour we were getting out. She gave us �50 to get away. ‘Good luck, boys’, she said, ‘don’t look back. Your Mum and Dad will look after you from Heaven’. We weren’t too sure about that, but she’d given us �50, so we said we knew that God would look after us. She was big in the church. Dodo and I didn’t do God before, and we certainly didn’t after. ‘God’s gotta be a white dude’, said Dodo.” Dodo (who turned out to be Douglas, then aged 14) and Jack escaped from London and fetched up with a group of other wretches fleeing from terror of one kind or another. At least in a band of two dozen or so they were safer than they’d been on their own. They arrived at the nearby town after four months of evading local vigilantes, but as winter approached the rioting usually died down a bit, so strangers were looked on more benevolently. “Besides, we all worked at something. Dodo and I worked picking fruit and stuff, along with the other boys. The men did odd jobs where they could find work. It was easier for the women and the girls, because they got work in people’s houses – cleaning, looking after kids, that kind of thing.” They had been there for a year and had begun to feel safe. “A week ago some jillies came – I don’t know where from, some city I expect, ‘cos they spoke funny – and tried to get some of the town men to join them. They got told to fuck off and no mistake. This town’s avoided trouble, and the men who run it bloody well wanted to keep it that way. The jillies went away, but three nights ago they came back and Dodo’s mates ran into them in the pub. They told Dodo that they were keen on bashing up you toffs – that’s what they said – and teachin’ you a lesson. One of Dodo’s mates said it’d be fun to see you all running about while the jillies beat you up, and he persuaded Dodo to go along. And that’s what happened, except the bastards fucking left me.” He had become indignant again, and I couldn’t blame him. He was warm and alive. Dan had been very patient, lying beside him in bed. He would not have to be patient much longer. “Tell us about when Dodo started to fuck you,” I said quietly, climbing into bed beside him, squeezing him in a Dan-Dab sandwich. The squeezing brought a grin to his lips – nice, full lips – “is this where you get your end away, then?” “Yes, Jack, if you like. Both ends if you ask really nicely.” On the run from London 14-year-old Dodo and 10-year-old Jack hadn’t spent their �50 on train tickets, but had made their way out of London on lorries, usually by hiding inside. Three days after the fire they were in Sunderland – a place of which neither of them had heard, and a place where the natives spoke a language they hardly understood. It was August, so the nights were still mild, and the two of them had no option but to sleep rough in a park. “I was so scared. Dodo cuddled me and whispered that he’d look after me. ‘We’re all we’ve got, Jack, and we gotta love each other’ and stuff like that. He was warm and made me feel safe. Before we tried to sleep we got up to piss in the bushes. I’d seen his cock hundreds of time at home, and he’d seen mine, but we’d never done anything – too many other kids – but seeing his cock pissing in the moonlight made my heart jump. I don’t know what made me do it, but I reached over to hold it. Dodo grinned. Fifteen minutes later he’d fucked me and it hurt like hell. He made a big fuss of me and said how brave I’d been, and as a reward he’d suck my cock. I loved it so much I cried when I got the wriggles. ‘That’s called cumming’, he said, ‘look, I’ll show you’. And then he wanked and I saw stuff leaping out of his cock, white and thick, not like piss at all. ‘Like it’? he said. Half an hour later he fucked me again. It didn’t hurt nearly as much. He’s been fuckin’ me as often as we could ever since, and so have his mates. The best bit is I first shot spunk three weeks ago, all over Dodo’s belly. ‘You’re a man now’, said Dodo. I felt so proud. And now the bastard’s fucking left me.” By now all three of us had hard cocks, and gentle writhing had begun. “Go on, Dan,” I said, “suck his cock for him and warm him up.” Once warmed up Jack was a true sexual athlete. It was almost 4 in the morning before the three of us finally got to sleep. Dodo and his mates had been lucky to find a kid so willing and so keen to learn so many tricks. The bell went on Sunday morning at 8, just as it always did. Dan and I woke groggily. “Fuck,” I muttered. I shook Jack, out of it completely. “Wake up,” I hissed. His eyes opened. “Who … where … ah, I remember,” and he put his arms out for a good-morning cuddle. Who could resists? “Listen, Jack, we have to go and get breakfast. Stay here and don’t make a move. If you need a piss do it in a jar or something. No-one will come in here – they’re not allowed. We’ll be back in half an kızılay escort hour.” While I’d been telling him all this Dan had dressed and was away – Pups and Trainers weren’t seen together in public, as it were. “OK,” mumbled a sleepy Jack. When we came back Dan and I had each, without consulting each other, managed to smuggle something for Jack to eat – in both cases a sausage. Jack was amused at the nature of our offerings. The works of the good Dr Freud were not known to him (nor to Dan or me in those days), but our subconscious minds must have been at work. I’d been thinking furiously during my brief absence from my bed. What were we going to do with Jack? While he was eating Dan’s sausage I asked him what he wanted us to do. “Dunno. Don’t see any point in going back. Me brother and his mates will have scarpered – no way they’re gonna hang around with idiot jillies with guns.” He didn’t seem particularly bothered about his brother’s having taken off – as he had put it so frequently, the bastard had deserted him. It was a poser. He couldn’t stay here much longer – that was obvious. Sundays weren’t busy days and we’d have to get him away by nightfall … unless … “Tell me about the fruit picking. Did you like it?” “What? Why’s that important?” he said, still engaged on my sausage. “Did you enjoy working picking fruit, Jack? It’s not a trick question.” “Yeah, I suppose. It was out in the sun and I got paid.” I made a decision: after all, I was the Earl of Inchkeith. “I can get you a job working in a big garden, Jack. You’d be safe and well looked after. Good food too.” I paused. “I could arrange to fuck you sometimes too.” Jack laughed. “Don’t be fucking daft. How could you get me a job?” It was Dan who whispered that I was in precisely the right position to deliver on all the promises. Jack looked at me with new eyes. “Really? Swear it’s true?” I nodded. “And will I really be safe. No jillies?” He paused and then said quietly, “will it matter that I’m black?” There were tears in his eyes, tears which were hidden when Dan put his arms round him and cuddled him. “You don’t know how important it is that it doesn’t matter,” Dan whispered to me. I was teary too. Dan must have had his share of racism to deal with, and Dan was much better placed to deal with it. “Listen, Jack,” I said quietly. “If you want to come and work for me I can make it happen in a few hours. There’s a big estate with plenty of garden work. I can get you there before dark if that’s what you want.” I saw him nod, still in Dan’s embrace. “Just say it, Jack, say yes,” murmured Dan. “Yes please, sir.” I could deal with the ‘sir’ bit some other time. Right now I had to zip Rivers. That was easy – “Get here as soon as you can. Zip me when you’re 5 minutes away. Don’t come to the House but stop out of sight.” Two minutes later he zipped back. “OK. Not in danger? Heard about jillies.” “No, fine, just get here.” “Two hours max.” I explained what I was planning to Jack, who grew more and more amazed at what I was doing for him. “And you really are an earl and all?” Dan assured him that while I was indeed an earl I was also a good kind friend. “He’s been looking after me all term, and I’m a damn sight blacker than you are.” “Bigger cock too,” murmured Jack, relaxing as his confidence that his life had turned a huge corner for the better. While I was waiting for Rivers to zip – still an hour away – it dawned on me that I could hardly dump Jack onto Rivers without explaining everything. No, I had to go with them and speak to Jorrocks and Dunstable. But to do that I had to ask Jock – or rather, tell Jock. “Stay here, you two,” I said, “I have to see Jock.” Luckily Chapel – a compulsory part of Sunday even among godless types like us – wasn’t for two hours. I knocked on Jock’s door and he called me in. He asked me more about the night’s activities and I asked him about Lessing. “Still in the operating theatre, Dab. Thanks to you and the others they’ll save his leg.” I told him that I’d heard from the Estate that there was a difficulty with an employee and that my presence was needed. “I don’t know why they can’t sort it out, Sir, but it seems to be urgent. I can be back by late tonight I think.” “Don’t be silly, Dab. If you have to deal with an Estate problem you shouldn’t rush it. After all, you have a responsibility now that no other boy in the House has. Stay tonight and get your man to drive you back tomorrow. There won’t be any more jilly trouble, I’m sure.” “Thank you, Sir, that makes it easier for me,” and I was off. Rivers zipped me. “5 mins. Will park 300 yds east of gate.” I ‘d told Dan what was happening and that I’d be back the next day. “Jock knows, but if he asks for details you don’t have a clue. Here’s my zipper. If anything – anything – happens zip Rivers, he’s my chauffeur and I’ll have hia zipper till I get back.” He nodded. “Good luck, Jack. I loved the fuck,” and he kissed him chastely. “Come on,” I said, “fingers crossed nobody sees us.” As Chapel wasn’t for an hour there was no-one about and we made it out of the gate and into the Rolls unobserved. If Rivers was astonished to see a small black 12-year-old boy climb into the back with me he was sensible enough to say nothing. “Home, please, I’ll explain on the way.” =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 16 as Dan makes a discovery. The story is, of course, fiction. Drop me a line at net – that is after you’ve dropped a few quid. ===============================================================================
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