The Bunkhouse King


By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
Artwork (c) 2005 by Eduardo

Illustration of Bunkhouse King

Slim walked into the bunkhouse with Joe. Damned, but he was tired. He and Joe had spent the day out in the northeast quarter, rounding up the last strays. It was damned rough work, riding and riding, only to find a couple of mostly-wild cattle and their newborn calves, and then to chivvy them toward the main herd, half the time to have them break and bolt back the way they'd come and if you didn't ride like the dickens, you'd end up with them right back where they'd started, and more determined than ever not to go where you wanted them to go!

All that work for what turned out to be only seven head of cattle (together with five calves, two were still pregnant and had to be driven extra careful due to that, they'd be calving any day now from the way their sides bulged out!) and Slim was more than ready for a hot meal, a hot bath and bed, not necessarily in that order.

And right in the middle of the bunkhouse, right on the bed that was his, damn it, was a kid about seven or eight years old, decked out in cowboy clothing, hat, shirt, jeans and boots, jumping up and down, yelping like a coyote!

"Who'n blazes are you?" Joe asked the kid.

"I'm in charge here!" the kid declared. "Uncle Clyde said so, I'm in charge here, me, me!"

"Uncle Clyde?" Slim said. "As in Clyde Stebbins?" That was the owner of this entire fucking ranch!

"Uh-huh!" the kid announced. "He said ever' member of the fambly gets to be in charge of sumpin' on his ranch. Me, I'm in charge of this here bunkhouse. And when you're in here, y'all got to do whut I say!"

Oh, now, this was too much! Slim started to rise up in anger at this kid's impertinence, but Joe's intercession saved him from words that could have gotten him fired.

"You run this here bunkhouse now?" Joe said. "Well, ain't that sumpin?" He glanced at Slim and winked. "You mean we got a problem here, we talk to you about it, huh?"

"Uh-huh!" the kid said. "And you got to do what I say."

Joe flicked his hat back from his face with one dirty finger. "Well, then, do you mind if'n Slim and me get cleaned up a mite afore chowtime?"

"You may!" he said with an air of a king granting a boon.

"And would you mind getting yore boots off'n my bed?" Slim said.

The kid looked down. "This here's my bed now." he said. "You get that one." And he pointed to a bed down at one end of the bunkhouse. One that got little light during the daylight and no breeze at all in the summertime.

"Now just a durned minute..." Slim began, but Joe interrupted him.

"Come on, Slim, we gotta get a move on if'n we're gonna be cleaned up afore supper." Joe pressed him.

"Well..." Slim walked over to the "king's bed" and pulled his tucker bag out from under it, it held among other things a clean change of clothes and his towel. He'd don these same filthy clothes tomorrow for the next day's work (washing clothes was done on Saturday night so they could dry on Sunday, while he wore his Sunday best), but for mealtimes, he needed the cleanest clothes he had. Mrs. Stebbins would chase off a man who was too grimy, that sometimes meant he had to wash clothes mid-week and wear them wet. "Okay. You n' me'll talk later...King."

The kid stuck his tongue out at Slim.

In the shower area, after they had hauled enough water up to the upper tub, and then tripped the lever to cause it to run through the holes in the bottom, with the racket that caused, Joe said, "Now why'd you have to get the kid all riled up for, Slim?"

"He was jumping on my bed." Slim protested. "With his durned boots on!"

"All that matter is he's the boss's nephew." Joe pointed out. "And if'n you'd paid attention at the dinner table to the talk, you'd know his maw and paw are both dead and he's come to live with them. An orphan now ever since he was three. Of course he's gonna be a little hell-cat. But the boss put him in the bunkhouse so we could teach him how to be a real man. And that's the way to play it. Little at a time, we'll work him around."

"Fine for you." Slim said. "He weren't jumping on yore bed. Durned kid acting like he's the king around here, is whut he's doin'. Well, I ain't gonna put up with fer long, that's fur damned sure."

He finished his bath and toweled off, looked at his body. He was nicknamed "Slim" when a young feller, he'd shot up at the age of twelve and been skinny as hell, that was when he got the name. He'd filled out after, but the name stuck. That's how things worked, out in the West.

He'd had some time to cool down, too. Okay, the kid deserved some slack while he found his footing. He could sleep in the other bed a night or two, it wasn't that hot...yet.

He put on his clean set of clothes and went back out to gab with the other hands who were arriving from their job. The "king" was swamped in that many men, and his protestations of his superiority were losing some force, most were ignoring him. When the dinner bell was rung, there was a general stampede for the door and the kid was following them looking a bit lost.

Still, the kid's arrogance had had some effect. Slim listened to any amount of grumbling as the "king" was seated next to his uncle and regaling him with stories of whatever it is young kids jabber about (he'd never paid young ‘uns much mind).

Mr. Stebbins would usually end the meal with a pronouncement, and tonight was no exception. "I guess you men have already met your new chief in charge of the bunkhouse." he said with a semi-jovial tone and precise English pronunciation. "You have any problems or need something done in the bunkhouse, you talk to my chief here and he'll pass it on to me."

"You also tell them they gotta do whut I tell them to." the "king" reminded his uncle.

"That's right." Mr. Stebbins nodded. "When they're in the bunkhouse, they're under your command."

"Yeah!" the king looked triumphantly around at a bunch of disgruntled "subjects."

The "king" (Slim still hadn't caught this kid's name, and hadn't bothered reaching for it) had a little more attention that night, but he was making enemies fast, and it seemed to be sinking in that he wasn't very popular. Took the feller long enough to get it, Slim thought.

The next morning, at breakfast, was time for the boss to make the day's assignments. Slim expected to be sent back to another section to look for more strays.

"The bunkhouse needs cleaning up." the "king" declared. "It stinks in there."

The bunkhouse stunk of men sweating and wearing dirty clothes day after day, Slim agreed about the stink without wanting to do nothing about it.

"Okay, Sidney, you see that the bunkhouse is cleaned up. Pick the two men you want to help you do it." Mr. Stebbins said.

Oh God, Slim thought, he's looking at me ‘n' Joe. He was, the two men who had paid any real attention to what he'd said. He froze, hoping the kid wouldn't say it (Sidney! No wonder the kid wasn't quite right in his head, a moniker like that!).

"I'll take Slim and Joe." came the pronouncement from the throne. Slim groaned, but his groan was drowned out by the laughter of the other hands. They'd be out on the ranch and the free rangeland around it, doing what they were born to do, and he'd be down on his hands and knees, playing housewife to a kid!

He hung about the table long as he could, for he would stand the chaff of the other hands who were changing into their work clothes and riding out. He managed to let them all get gone afore he walked, head hanging down in shame, to his duty at the bunkhouse.

Joe was already there, and in his lap he held their king, a blubbering little boy. "They all hate me." he sniffled. "They all hate me."

Of course they do, Slim thought. Saying it to a kid who was crying didn't sit right, though. "I reckon they're not too fond of you." he settled for saying. "Nobody wants to be bossed around when they've done their day's work and just want to rest and play cards or goof around."

"But I'm in charge here." the kid said. "Uncle said so."

"Don't mean he wants you to make everyone mis'rable." Joe pointed out. "Jest ease off. Be a kid, ‘stead of a chief. Don't order ever'body about. Go play, instead."

That set off a brand-new wail. "Don't got nobody to play with!" Sidney wailed. "Ain't no other kids here a'tall!"

"He's right ‘bout that." Slim allowed. "What kin we do ‘bout that?"

"Reckon you and me are gonna be his playmates today, then."

That sounded better, at least, than scrubbing floors. "Reckon we are."

Sidney (a king no longer) wiped his eyes. "You mean it?"

"Why, shore!" Slim said. "You wanna play with Joe and me, we'll do jest that. Now, what kind of game you wanna play first?"

Sidney's eyes fastened right on Slim's crotch. Slim was only a foot or so away from those eyes, the point of their gaze was unmistakable. "I kin really play with you ‘n' Joe today?"

"Sure." Slim said, his cock swelling under that interested, unwavering stare. "Whatever game you want. What'd you play with your friends afore you come here? We'll play that." he said. Trying to distract that gaze.

It didn't work. Maybe he should try mentioning things a young boy can do on a ranch. Shame the kid hadn't been introduced to that already, instead of being put in charge of a bunkhouse! "Or we could go out...."

That was as far as he got before that young hand came up and cupped his crotch. His cock was right there, too, ready for it. Slim tried to continue his sentence, but only a strangled sort of groan came out.

"We'd play like this, kinda." Sidney said. "Kin you ‘n' me ‘n' Joe play like this? I like this."

"Guh!" Slim managed as that hand gripped him in the slack trousers he wore. "Uh, now, Sid, I... Guh!" He closed his eyes and rocked on his heels. Shit, this felt good!

"You got him, Sid." Joe said. "Now you done roped him, what you gonna do?"

Slim's eyes opened at that. He looked down and Joe still had Sidney in his lap, and his hand was in Sid's lap, groping him the way Sid was groping him!

Slim gave up at that. If Joe was willing to play this game with a kid, so was he, especially when it felt as good as this! It weren't like Sid weren't doing it for his ownself!

He reached up and undid his pants' buttons, let the pants fall open. He wasn't wearing any underwear beneath that, he was relishing the comfortable warmth of spring and the days before the heat would make the woolen underwear desirable again upon the dry range (when it would help save the skin from heat stroke) and before the return of cold when it would again preserve his body from the elements). So he opened his pants and his manhood flopped out and the small, eager hand gripped it an instant after.

"Yeah, come on, Sid, whomp that thing fer Slim." Joe encouraged him. He had Sid's pants open and the tiny little dick in his thumb and forefinger, wriggling the little pud back and forth. Sid was grinning like crazy, like he had while jumping up and down on Slim's bed. And quickly, like children do, he must have hit his little-boy orgasm, because he suddenly leaned his head on Joe's shoulder and he moaned, his eyes closed, his mouth open, his hand dropped from Slim's cock, letting it drop.

Slim gasped, a feeling much like betrayal, and stepped up and as Sid finished his little juiceless orgasm, he lifted Sid's head off Joe's shoulder, leaned it toward himself, and shoved his cock right into that small still-open mouth.

"Ah-gah!" he gasped as that moistness surrounded his pud. "Ah, God damn, but that feels mighty good!"

Sid was stock-still, maybe still figuring out what happened, and then he began to move his lips back and forth on Slim. Maybe Sid was just jerking him with his mouth, but hell, that's what sucking really is, ain't it? All that mattered was that the kid was back to working his pud!

"Looks like you got yoreself a new best buddy." Joe said.

"Mebbe I do." Slim allowed. "He's doin' me better'n you ever did."

"Gluh? Glmph!" Sid spit out Slim's cock. "You mean you done this with each other?"

"Yuh think you and yore buddies come up with this here game?" Joe said. "Out here on the range, a friend is sometimes the only one yore ever gonna get. Mebbe when they get more women out here, it'll be diff'rent."

"Never done it with a kid before." Slim agreed. "But damned if you ain't good at it. Kin yuh get back to suckin' my dick agin?"

Sid smiled and his mouth reached for Slim, but this time, Joe yanked Sid's head away.

"I ain't gettin' none here." He announced. "Let's strip this kid and show him what else we kin do."

That was fun, Slim had Sid's shirt and he was unfastening those buttons as Sid giggled and his hands stroked Slim's arms, and then he shucked that shirt up and off the kid, showing the slender white body. Joe had an easier time with the boots and pants (Sid wasn't wiggling there) and as Slim finished, he saw Joe slipping Sid's boots back on.

"Whut you doin' that fur?" he asked.

"Cain't have a cowboy without'en his boots on." Joe declared. "Yore a cowboy now, Sid. And it's time for some ridin', so you need yore boots."

Slim realized what Joe had in mind. "Sid, you better get to slickin' up Joe ‘stead of me, on account of he's plannin' to plug you up yore cornhole."

"Kin he do that?" Sid said, wide-eyed.

"Yep, if'n you ‘llow it, he can." Slim agreed. "But you need to slick him up good." He considered it. "You need some slicking up, too. I'll do that fer you."

"So Sid got up on all fours, and while Sid's mouth worked on Joe's cock, Slim stuck his tongue into the tiny nether hole and wormed the tip in as best he could. Sid was moaning after a time, and Slim was gratified to hear the boy have another climax just from his tongue in the kid's butt.

"Reckon that's best I kin do." Slim said after a time.

"I think the kid's got a ton of spit on my pud." Joe agreed. "Let's see how well he can take it."

"He's willing enough, now he knows whut it's gonna feel like. He'll love it."

"Same as you do." Joe agreed.

"You moan right pretty when it's your turn." Slim returned.

Sid giggled at this interchange, and Joe took advantage of that to press his cock against Sid's butthole. Sid gasped, but he didn't do much more than squirm some as Joe worked it in. Joe did it pretty gentle, Slim figured, he could be downright delicate when he wanted to.

Sid squirmed until he went from being on his belly over to being on his back. Slim took that as the chance to get his own pud worked on some more, it was dried out and shriveled up from being ignored.

But when those rosy soft boy lips took it up, his cock bloomed anew, Slim could feel it spreading itself out and up into that warm interior, and Sid didn't flinch even as it worked his engorged way down the kid's throat. Only when it was at full throttle did Sid let it slip back out, and even then, he caught it before its head could escape and held on tight. The result was a thick coating of saliva on Slim's dong.

And Slim used it to pump the boy's mouth, because he couldn't move worth a damn with Joe now doing a sort of gentle wiggle in the kid's butt. He was familiar with that wiggle, Joe didn't want to tear the boy up by a hard fucking (though when Joe chose to, he could be rougher than any bull atop a cow thought about being), so he was giving a squirm that was driving the kid crazy, the boy had just discovered his prostate gland by having Joe's prong scrubbing against it, and his boy-prick was rising up once again.

Slim leaned over, his hips still driving his dong in and out of that soft mouth, and he caught that little dick and sucked on it. It was too little to let him get a real rhythm up and down on it, but he could and did give Sid a little of his own back, while Slim's thrusts into the boy's mouth continued to send his prick thrilling into the boy's mouth and throat.

He felt Sid shudder, a third orgasm. How many of them could a little boy have? He didn't remember any such when he was this kid's age! But his own cock was screaming for release, he figured this was as good a time as any to wrap this up and get his own goodies off!

A few quicker thrusts were enough to start it. "Oh, God, kid, I'm coming now, I'm coming!" He groaned. "Kin I come in yore mouth, kid? Kin you handle it? If'n you can't, spit it out quick and use yore hand!" He didn't do anything else but this warning, though if Sid had moved in any way, he would have backed up some, give the kid the means of escape.

But while the kid's hand did come up, it only came up to help that mouth work him harder, and Slim gasped, moaned, let out a shuddering yelp and he came in a flood, that hungry little mouth scarfed it all down as quick as he could pump it out, sucking him like a calf does when it first comes out of its mother's body and stands on its shivering legs, then it finds by instinct that pink teat hanging down and it fastens upon it and drinks down the nectar of life!

"Oh, oh, uh, GUH, UH, GUH-HUNKKKHH!" Joe yodeled and he was finally humping Sid's tiny butt, he was shaking the kid like a dog shakes a rat it catches, he was rough and Sid lay there and took all of it, and when Joe finished and fell over, Slim caught and threw his buddy to one side, lessen' he crush this pore boy underneath by the fall.

Slim crawled in himself and he and Joe sandwiched the kid between them, that small naked body pressed against their still-clothed but sated bodies.

"That was right good." Joe observed after a time.

"Yeah." Sid said.

"Yore damned good at this game, Sid." Slim said and he kissed those adept lips in gratitude.

"Kid needs a better name than Sid." Joe said.

It was a rough form of heraldry in the West, a man would find himself being renamed all over again, and was stuck with it for better or worse.

"Fine with me." Sid said. "I hate my name. So what're you gonna call me from now on?"

Slim was struck by inspiration. "Why, King, of course!" he said.

"King?" their little companion said. "You mean it?"

"You bet...King." Joe agreed.

"Now, what say we take young King out here and teach him how to ride a horse."

"We still have to clean up the bunkhouse." King said. "Soon as we finish that, we can go play. Now, get up and get to work. I'll help you soon as I get dressed."

"Yore the boss." Joe said.

"Yep." Slim agreed. "He's king of the bunkhouse."

THE END

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