The Watermelon Thief 02


by Culloden Cowboy <Cullodencowboy@starband.net>

This is the second installment of 26 chapters.

The only attempt I made to hide my interest in this boys 5" hard fallus was to hide my line of vision behind the sunglasses I still wore, despite the fact that it was now getting near darkness, and the sun was no longer shining a direct path onto this beautiful boy who slowly but purposefully made his way to my side. I also noted that if Jeffery was at all embarassed by his state of arousal, he didn't show it. He made no attempt to cover himself with his hands as he approached me, never looking down or away, but instead, staring straight into my left eye as I had earlier instructed him to do.

"Sit down right here son, and let's have a little chat," I said as I patted my left leg. He moved between my feet and planted his butt on my thigh, letting his hands come to rest on his own knees. I moved my left arm behind him around his waist and let my open palm come to rest, gently but firmly against his lower abdomen, my little finger resting in the crease between thigh and belly, and my middle finger just in the edge of his deep rust-colored pubic patch. I reached out with my right hand and encircle his wrist, just above his watch.

"Son, you are aware of my rule about 'NO JEWELRY' on this farm, aren't you?" I asked as I lightly rubbed his wrist and watch.

"Yessir, but I forgot to take it off. It was my Dad's watch, it's all I have that was his, and I don't take it off often. I forgot about it sir. Should I take it off now?" he asked as he reached for it with his left hand.

I stopped him by grabbing his left wrist as I asked, "and what about this?" indicating the woven leather bracelet he wore.

"That's made on my arm, sir. It won't come off unless I cut it off, and I won't ever do that," he said as he gently pulled his arm away and placed his hand on his knee again.

I slid my left hand up his side and gently squeezed his boybelly before letting it drop again to come to rest on his abdomen, this time with all my fingers slightly embedding in his pubic forest. "It must be pretty special, son. Where'd it come from?" I asked in the most intimidating tone I could muster. I wasn't trying to embarass him, but I was very curious about this "special" friend he must have. I was familiar with this type bracelet, and knew that it had some special meaning and significance to him.

I noticed goose bumps pop up on his upper arm and then he gave a slight shiver as he said in a very soft voice, "a friend." I noticed his hands moving as he began to close and open them as if scratching the tops of his knees with his fingertips. I did the same thing with my left hand, slightly tickling his pubics with my own fingertips. He shivered again and then placed his hand on top of mine and held it firmly in place. "That tickles," he said as a faint dimple appeared in his right cheek, indicating a smile.

I circled his right wrist with my right hand and patted his left buttcheek as I said,"OK, hop up." He stood up, and I continued to hold onto his wrist. "Go put that watch in your bag, and then get about four of those logs and bring them to the fire," I ordered. I noticed that his boydick was pointed straight out from his body as he turned to go to the tent. I also noticed that he had failed to say "yessir" before he proceeded to go.

I decided to refresh his memory about my rules, and as he ducked into the tent I went to the fire pit and stirred the coals so they would be hot enough to catch the logs when he returned with them. I met him at the woodpile and he held out his arms as I loaded him down with four large logs. His biceps bulged slightly, and I marveled at the beauty of innocent youth as he proceeded to the firepit and dropped the logs beside it. I broke some small twigs into pieces and laid them on the coals, then picked up one of the split logs and laid in on top. I walked back over to the woodpile, and called him to come stand at one end of it as I pointed. "What is rule number one on this farm, son?" I asked as I put my hand behing his neck.

"To say 'Yessir and Nosir to you, Cowboy," he answered meekly.

"Didn't you forget that a few minutes ago?" I asked. He hesitated, and I said, "I told you to do something, and you did it, but you didn't answer me, did you?"

He reluctantly said,"Nosir, I guess not," his eyes cast down at the woodpile before him.

I stepped to the side of the woodpile and said, "look at me son." He immediately raised his head and looked into my left eye. "When I tell you to do something, you are to answer me with 'Yessir', and then do it, is that correct, son?" I asked.

"Yessir," came his response.

"And did you do that a few minutes ago?" I asked as I let my hand fall slowly to my belt buckle and rest there.

As his eyes glanced down to where my hand had come to rest, he answered with enthusiasm, "I guess I didn't, sir. I guess I forgot."

I unbuckled my belt and pulled it from my beltloops with a rather dramatic flourish as I said, "well boy, I GUESS you probably won't forget again, but just to make sure, I GUESS we need to have a little refresher course in the rules here, son." He dropped his hands to cover his crotch, and I couldn't help but notice his boydick was beginning to show signs of life again. "Step back about two feet son, and then I want you to lean over and hold onto the ends of that log up there on top of that pile."

"Yessir," he answered as he did as I said.

"Now spread your feet a little further apart," I ordered. He stepped to the side with his right foot and then his left, having to bend his knees slightly to maintain his balance. I piicked up a three foot long log and placed it right behind his feet. "Spread your legs further apart, son," I said. He complied, and I rolled the log between his feet. "Now son, I want you to put your feet against the ends of that log there so just your heels are against it, and turn your toes in as much as you can." He had to squat a little deeper to turn his toes in, and I knew it was not a comfortable position for him. He was far enough away from the woodpile that he had to lean into it in order to grip the top log, and his weight was shifted so that he would have to push himself up from this position to stand.

"Now you just stay put and we're gonna review the rules, son," I said, as I moved the chair into position about six feet behind him, and sat down. "Now boy, how many rules do I have?" I asked as I gazed at his boybutt spread open before me. I also noticed his boysack was drawn up tight against him and his dick wasn't hanging into view between his legs.

"Three, sir," he answered.

"That is correct, son," I said, and I snapped my belt which I held doubled in front of me. It made a loud cracking sound as it popped together, and he flinched. "What are the rules, son?" I asked, as I snapped the belt again.

He flinched again as he began to answer, "Rule number one is to answer Yessir and Nosir to you always when you ask a question, and to answer with 'Yessir' when you tell me to do something, and then to do it."

"That's right." I responded with another snap of my belt. Again, he flinched, but not as violently as before. "Next," I said loudly, giving the belt another quick pop.

I didn't notice a flinch this time, and he immediately responded, "Rule number two. I have two freedoms. I can breathe, and I can blink. That's all I can do without asking your permission. I need your permission to do everything else, sir."

"Very good, son," I answered with another snap of the belt. Again, I detected a slight flinch from him."Next"

"No jewelry, sir."

I snapped the belt again, with no flinch this time. "That's right, boy. "Now, give me an example of rule number two, son," I said and snapped the belt again as I stood up, moved closer to him and slightly to his left.

"If I need to fart, I need to ask your permission first, sir," he answered, and I noticed that dimple reappear in his cheek. I snapped the belt again, he didn't flinch, and the dimple stayed.

"Another one," I said as I snapped the belt again.

And again, he didn't flinch as he answered, "if I need to pee, I need your permission first, sir," he answered through a smile.

Another snap, with no flinch. "Another," I said and held the belt by the buckle end only, letting it dangle toward the ground at arms length.

"If I need to _s_h_i_t_, I need to ask your permission, sir," he answered.

"Right again," I answered, and I drew back and let the belt fly in a wide arc directly into his left buttcheek so the end of it wrapped around and made a very loud pop as it snapped into his boycrack.

He jumped violently and screamed out as he tried to rise from his awkward position only to fall forward against the logpile, "Ouch, _d_a_m_n_ that hurt, sir."

"You stay put, boy," I said as I popped his ass again. This time he flinched, and I heard his take a deep breath but he held his position. "You know my rules, son," I said, and laid another stripe across his butt. He gritted his teeth, but didn't move. "So I guess it's your forgetfulness we need to work on," I continued as I shifted to the backhand stroke of my belt into his asscrack from the opposite side.

Again, he jumped and yelled out in pain and surprise, "OUCH! I won't forget again, Cowboy. I promise I won't. Honest, sir, I won't forget again. I swear I won't forget, sir, I'll remember, I swear I will."

I continued my assault on his boybutt as he continued his promises. I sat down in the chair and said, "come here, boy." He pushed himself up and walked over to me, his boydick was throbbing hard and standing a good five and a half inches upright, his boysack drawn into a tight little knot at it's base. "Now you're gonna ride my leg boy while I teach that butt what a man's hand can do," I threatened as I pulled him down into a straddled position over my right thigh.

As he layed down over me, I placed my right hand into the center of his butt, my middle finger probing between his cheeks until I felt his moist boyhole with my fingertip. I applied a slight pressure with it and he slid a little more forward 'til his hard boydick throbbed against the inside of my leg. I hooked my right leg over his left ankle and my left leg over his right, and spread his legs with the pressure. I then reached over him and closed his head in my elbow. "Now, give me those examples again son," I said and began to spank his buttcheeks with my right hand. 'You need my permission for WHAT, son?" I asked as I slapped him hard.

"To fart, sir..." WHAP

"What else, son?" WHAP

"To pee, sir..." WHAP

"What else, son?" WHAP

"To _s_h_i_t_. sir..." WHAP

"What else, boy?" WHAP

"To cum, sir." WHAP

"What, boy? What did you say?" WHAP

"I need your permission to cum, sir."

I hesitated, then I released my grip on his head, and reached under my leg and felt his dick throbbing against my leg. circled my fingers around it, and felt the sticky signs of a boy in need. I resumed my grip around his neck, and with another hard slap into his ass I repeated,"What, boy?"

"MAY I CUM, SIR? PLEASE?" he begged as he bagan to pump my hand.

"YES, boy," I shouted, "You may cum," and I continued to slam my right hand into his boybutt as he slammed his boyness onto my leg.

This boy was a hand-full already, and it wasn't even dark yet!


More stories by Culloden Cowboy