Bird Shooting

He'd followed instruction and was parked behind an out building on a long abandoned farm. It was easy to find as there was a roadside ad suggesting that five miles ahead there was a MacDonald's. The shop itself was gone but the sign proved a popular reference point for those who did not know the area. Frequently the arrangement was that whoever had driven out would wait there then follow someone back to town or to their ranch or farm. So much easier than trying to break it down into percentages of a mile then go right....this just got the guest more lost and harder to find. Thus the silver Lincoln sat there, the driver leaning against it, his boots, brand new shirt plus too crisp Levi's marking him as a "foreigner". 

Bill pulled up in his pickup, got out, embraced the man, held him at arms length..."Well, look at you. All cowboy'ed up. Looks good on you. Leave your pants and I'll age them for you so they'll be softer and wear better the next time you come out. I got some for you to wear home, old pair of mine but since I've been working and working out, they're too small in the leg." They both paused and looked straight ahead. "I take it from your call this is a business trip....got some job for me in town, that about right?"

The man, really glad to see Bill, shifted a bit, rolled around so Bill was against the car, the man's arms on either side of him, smiled at him and agreed that, yes, there was a job and he hated like holy hell to ask...

"Well, fuck, don't be, you're my Godfather and I owe you some respect and if you need some work, hey, I'm the man you need to see about it." The Judge smiled, from the day he first read the case, did some research on Jon, now Bill, he knew he'd found a partner. Bill, as he knew, was far more than what anyone locally could have even expected. His honor knew of at least six murders that probably had been a joint effort between Jon and his late father. No one was slicker or less suspicious and buried out here in the country, where he seemed genuinely happy, no one was looking for him. Some, it was said, had been really pissed off when he executed his dad, it was a pleasure they'd reserved for themselves but collectively, there wasn't a man who wouldn't have wanted him for his son, train him, pretty much as he'd been trained then find some work that he could do. What ever had gone down, they all knew it didn't take balls, it took stones to knock off your own Dad.

"What have you got for me? Something interesting?  I don't want to waste time sitting around with my thumb up my ass, you can understand why; The longer I'm in town, the more likely I am to be noticed and that's not something you or I want." The judge nodded in agreement. 

"You'll like this one, neat, one hour tops, one shot, in and out. You could do this with a pop gun....but I'd prefer you use this one." He handed Bill a gun that was sealed with sets of gloves secured to the top. "No registration, no numbers, clean. Ammo is in it, came from China as a Christmas present to me."

"Is the Santa Claus the purchaser? Or are you the Capo on this one?"

The judge moved his arms that were on either side of Bill, their faces were only inches apart. "It's me, messy case, cannot be settled, not for years if then. Supreme Court would reject it and I'm fucking sick of it. Some head Fred, or his attorney, doesn't know black from white and each day it seems, my inbox and my law clerk staggers in with more motions. Some days I just pick the top half and junk them knowing they'll be a new crop and, this may appeal to you, the one I'm after had a hand in calling the hit on your Dad." The judge leaned forward as if doing a standing push up until his face was right beside Bill's. "Do it how you want just make sure there's a couple of rounds in the body, standard places, execution style, neck, nuts, heart. Just what your Dad taught you."

"And I can take care of this person however I want as long as there's at least one slug in him. Right?" The judge looked at him. 

:"I don't give a flying fuck if the only part of him the M.E. can clearly identify is the slug." Bill blinked but remained passive. He turned his head, took one hand and pulled the other face to his and kissed his lips." Been a long time, I've missed you, Jon. Missed you many times."

"Got an itch?"

"Sir, I do. What'll cost me?" 

Bill/Jon smiled his handsome heavily masculine smile. "Well, Godfather, I have happy memories of you so I'd say the price was...nothing. Fair enough?" His Honor grinned. "Want to peel out here or in the back? Easier out here, more room." Bill started by pulling off his boots then remembered something. "Hang on, need to give you something for protective custody." He reached back and pulled the Beretta up from his pants, undid the almost invisible string and handed it over. "You got something for me?" There was the smile of a man who respected the person he was with, probably went a little further, but that was in a few minutes in the back seat with his ass in the air. For now, he reached into his suit pocket and pulled out a standard issue Glock and handed it over. Bill looked at it, then at the judge and finally took his hand, stuck it down the older man's crotch and produce a Sig Sauer. He smiled. "You son of a bitch....did you really think you could get by me?"

The smile was returned. "No, but 's fun trying." With the hardware on the roof, his honor finished striping then enjoyed the sight of Bill/Jon removing his clothes slowly down to just a very filled jock which he took down and held the contents in two hands. 

"I believe I've got the itch scratcher...so get in there, get it up in the air and I'll relieve you of your problem."

Bill was a good fucker, particularly with those whom he'd fucked a few times-or more-in the past. As he smoothly levered in and out of his honor's tail, he remembered the first time....his father had brought him to the judge's home for a sort of, lack of better expression, test flight, Serge, the judge's given name, was a good, even great trainer of men for what they needed to know, fucking a specialty. In Jon/Bill he met someone who already exceeded almost every one of whom he had sexual knowledge; There were adults who couldn't match him for strength and endurance. The equipment? He was twelve and there's only so much you can expect of someone that age. Not that he looked twelve, more like fifteen but the equipment would grow and, Serge thought, rather quickly. Indeed two years later in an informal plea arrangement, unsanctioned by the court, Jon's Dad lent Serge Jon II for a week or two, check out his progress, teach him some things he didn't already know. 

It had been instructional to both of them.

Sex with Jon was like no other man. Mercifully, he'd been started very young, his father cherried him out before he was eleven which gave his pleasure chute time to expand as age and usage demanded. Few had the pleasure, and all said it was, of fucking Deuce, his nick name in the city, His father took him to a gym for men only where his body was trained and toned; Not too much, but he had a toothsome sleekness and muscle that made him impossible to ignore with or without his clothes on. Just to make sure all would be as it needed to be in his future role as Stallion/Stud standing at service for whatever, he very early attached weights above his scrotum which nicely pulled them down into an admirable pair of low hangers. Good cock, when at rest but, again, as it stiffened, it stretched out as well as pumped in blood giving it a good girth, something any man would be proud to feel up his ass. He taught Deuce how to expand and contract his dick so when it was in place, it could surprise the holder by pushing back and making them know they weren't holding him in, he was not letting them out.

As his father explained, it was like a stud dog taking a bitch in heat; His purpose was to get in then blow up his cockhead into what some called a knot which the female could not slough off. Deuce could approximate that and moreso after his Dad had all his foreskin peeled off leaving no excess tissue to prevent total penetration. 

What would any kid do, given his preparation, education plus curiosity, he wanted to see and/or feel the dogs knot. Ace, Jon One, would never have permitted himself or his son to be mounted by an animals-his feeling was they'd have to deal with enough animals in their species without checking out others. However, having given the lecture he asked around until a "patron" of his, in return for a very modest payment-something about a wife, her lover and the patron's divorce-produced the name of someone who specialized in what he referred to as "dog breeding". Moreover, he even called to provide a guarantee as to how safe the gentleman was. On a specified day and time, Ace and Deuce drove up to a fine looking Georgian style home which had a sign that announced that within AKC German Shepherd puppies might be available and dog training was at all times. Ace and Deuce looked at each other and wondered....just what sort of dog was being trained?

An avuncular man answered the bell, took their names and asked that they wait in the reception hall, indicating an area to their right. "Christ, I didn't know we were going to sign a treaty? This is weirder than I'd expected."

"What did you expect?"

"I dunno, some sort of kennel out of sight, off the main road, hounds barking.....How the fuck did I know what to expect. Place that trains dogs to fuck people....this isn't the sort of place you expect."

"Hide in plain sight?"

"Good, Deuce, good, that's just what whoever has done. I'll bet the cops, animal control, anybody could walk right through here and never know one of their feature attractions."

About then the sound of approaching people which was preceded by a puppie who came straight to me. All puppies are cute and this one was bouncy and anxious to play so I squatted down, picked him up far enough so that he could lick my chin. More people. A happy looking couple, he was holding a carrying case, she was holding a pup both looking very happy.

"Great buy, you will not regret it and when the little one comes along, well, I'm sure you've read about a Shepherd's loyalty to their family, babies especially.....You've got all the papers? If you need copies or verification should you decide to show him, just call. 

With many thanks amid the barking of those left behind including the one in my arms, they went out through the massive front door.
"Happy couple, nice people....I'm Simon and I'm assuming you're....Ace?,,,,Deuce? He extended his hand. 

Actually, it's Jon and Jon Jr. but somehow that Ace, Deuce thing got started and now....." Simon smiled. "Yep, I've had puppies in the kennel, not yet sold then someone comes along and says, "Hey, that one looks like an Avalanche or a Fred."..and why I do not know, but the names stick. 'Course those are just the call names, their legal names....well, like the two of you; Ace and Deuce are really Jon and Jon....guess it works in all species." And laughed a pleasant laugh.

If you're here for a pup, and I don't believe you are, sorry, all sold, even that one you're holding but....I'd be more than happy to put you on the list for one, may be a while, my best bitch just whelped so she has the litter to raise and Maisie, the older bitch just got pregnant and hers are already spoken......" He paused, laughed then said, "Sorry, didn't mean to give you the sales pitch I know what you want". Then winked at us; Somehow that was a debasing sort of look. 

"Come on, we'll go to the other kennel and show you a sight you'll never see at home." This last was done in the manner of a carny barker encouraging the rubes to pay a quarter to go inside the tent.

It was a large estate and, eventually, we ended up in the laundry room at door for which Simon had a key. That led to a room with nothing but some hooks on the wall and a long bench, some sort of changing room...for those who had something to change.

On through another door which led to a hallway, one side of which was one way mirror. It passed four stalls two of which were occupied by men. Simon looked at them and, with some pride, said that these had been brought to him by their 'owners' contracts all the contracts on all sides signed, they were to be given training in how to be dogs as well as certain surgical alterations that would enhance their feeling of being a dog, Ears would be docked or pointed, cock sealed to their abdomen so they'd have to lift their leg to piss and, he smirked, of course, for calming purposes, they'd be 'fixed'. Consulting a sheet on the wall, he told us that both were scheduled for castration in a couple of weeks, if we were interested, come back and watch. Ace was holding my hand and he suddenly squeezed it so hard I almost teared up. "No, no, I think my son and I don't need to see that, thanks but..."

"Don't blame you, don't blame you at all. Hard to see another man get cut just to be more like a dog. I don't ask questions, I just do what's in the contract to do....Well, that's not your interest anyway."

Out through another pair of doors which left us outside facing what looked like a dog kennel, well maintained, dog runs, some with dogs, on the outside clearly attached to shelter and whatever else inside. Simon took us through a door in the center of the wall of the building and we were walking down a center aisle of dog homes, can't think of another word, all clean, everything looked....like the place you'd want your dog to be if you went away for a time.

Simon stopped in front of a door. "Okay, this one of the rooms were the action happens, come on in.' Ten by ten room, a couple of tie downs built into the cement floor, at best it looked like a bare room.

"Sound proofed, even the door only lets a very little noise out. Have as much fun as you want,  won't disturb anyone. Guys come to the main house, well, there's an office we passed, pay their money and, if they're repeats, they know the dog they want. Give 'em a key to the room, this is one of them and they get their business."

We must have looked stupid, what he said was interesting but not really believabe. "Hey, let me give you a demonstration of some of it...this young man is the curious one so, if you don't mind, dad, we'll use him as the model." Ace didn't mind or gave no sign that he didn't so Simon reached outside the open door into a box, there was one by each door, brought in some things, told me to drop my pants and get on all fours. I wasn't very comfortable but with dad there...."Okay, see those loops, that's what guys hold on to. Here, put these on, just knee covers, same kind you'd wear gardening and, get down, grab the rings...one last thing." he opened a tin of goo, smeared it on my ass and...pushed a button. A dog came yelping in, his cock fully out and was immediately on me. "Great to watch your kid get used like a bitch, wait'll he starts screaming when ...." And that was that,. Dad punched out Simon, grabbed and punched the dog, got me up, checked to make sure nothing, other than shock, had happened and it was all over. Almost.

As we drove away I thought of Simon tied to the rings with our belts, his ass covered in what I guess was female scent meaning she was in heat and three more dogs waiting to take their turn.

Serge didn't smile but said he remembered the bust on that place. Had to put down most of the fucking dogs, they were too used to human cunt...he added your father was a big help in nailing that son of a bitch now doing major time...seems there was a drug component that no one suspected. I wondered if getting fucked in the pen was like getting fucked by your own dogs?

We were almost into town and there was an issue that I wanted solved. "Pull into the drive in, get some coffee-they've got great sticky buns, too." We made it large coffees for two.

"Serge, we're going over to Billy's and I guess this is where we have to make some rules about things. As of now, he's my Dad and a prouder father....anyway. Jon was a great Dad also and what happened...well, probably you and I know the back story there more than anyone around here knows and it stays that way." I didn't wait for a response or acknowledgement as I wasn't asking a question, I was making policy. "Then there's the never mentioned issue of my real paternity which, as we know, is you. A judge can't have a son out of wedlock by a whore so....find a man to raise him that you could control as well as protect your own son. Whether you knew, even suspected what Jon would do, no point in even discussing but today is. Serge, I love you, love fucking you, love getting boned by you but that has nothing to do with the here and now. Nothing changes, we play it like it lays but...Billy never knows, has even a reason to suspect. You know my history, the best place for me is right here, no one comes around, no questions, as far as anyone knows, Billy adopted the son of a man he shot." I paused and ran that one back and forth through my head. "I'll give you on the front of it, the back of it behind it, it sounds weird, adopting the son of a man he just shot. And, by the way, Billy knows some of the truth, I had to tell him just to keep him satisfied and....away from the larger truth."

Serge leaned back, took a sip, raised his sun glasses...."I suppose you might think I want you back."

"No, I think you want me someplace where you can have me and have access to me with no questions. That's why I made you my Godfather, clever you have to admit."

He smiled. "Yep, for on the spot creation of fact, it was not only clever but helped everyone, mostly me, but, hey, having a prominent judge, you'll forgive me if I so define myself as prominent.."

"As your son....I think you're prominent, specially when you're balls deep into me, I like that and I bet you don't mind accepting the sperm of your own son." He just smiled. 

"Billy learned to like it?"

"Giving and taking, finest kind....not as good as my dad but he's learned and he's happy. And he's going to stay happy. Serge, he loves me, would do anything to protect me, someone whispers in his ear that there's yet another father, a living father now, in my past and....it would break him. He's not simple but....he isn't all that sophisticated. He's a great Sherriff for this population, God forbid if he had to face one of his buddies here in a criminal situation, probably tear him up. So...."

"You're going to run the town, aren't you." I couldn't suppress a slight smile. "I can hardly wait to watch."

"Don't miss our first baseball game or football game...."

"You.....don't know how to play either of those."

"No? Well, that was then, I'm now the Captain of both teams. I'm a quick study." I wondered if he would choke he was laughing so hard. "Deuce, Captain of a football team. I gotta know, how much have you laid off on the sides?"

"Now? Nothing, we have to lose the first game then dress up the bets, at least get them started. Think they don't bet in the stix? Drop by the bar and put a quarter on the table, see what the odds are on, well, whatever they're up on. You can guess I can't get in on the action but I'm teaching two of my closest buddies to deal and play."

"Poker?"

"Sure, dice out here doesn't work, too complicated on the odds, 21 is a game they play at church socials...everyone has heard of poker out here so...time to get a friendly game going. Fathers and sons, friend of the families, out here, that's normal, expected. Anyone here is looking for something to do so...get the guys around the table and lets play a friendly game, everyone keeps their hands above the table."

"Except you."

"Except me but I'm not playing. Not hard to work the game the way I want it to run, no one is really a big loser, all have a great evening, make plans to do it again. I'll never take them for more than they cannot afford to lose but....I've got my guys to protect. See Serge, out here, a son is an extension of whatever the father does. He's a farmer? The kids a farmer. You know all this. All I'm doing is building up a background so when the kid doesn't want to be a farmer, dad is stuck, has to let go."

"If it weren't you, Deuce, I'd think it was a rotten idea, no hits, no runs and especially, no errors. Cuz you don't make errors, shot your own father, no errors."

"Lets be a little careful, I didn't shoot my real father I shot my father pro tem, the one who was keeping me until, somehow, I could be handed back to you. As of right now, fuck DNA, Billy is my Dad and he's a good one too." And then there was silence. 

He was quiet, my parenting was only scarcely discussed and, recently, say the last five or six years, not at all. "I, I do want you back, Deuce...."

"Drop the Deuce crap and now, I'm Bill Constant, Billy's son, not Deuce, not Jon and only because you spewed sperm at the wrong moment, I'm your son." I looked straight at him. "I am fucking and being fucked by my own natural father and I like it, think he likes it too but move back? Give you free access to my ass? Sorry, I'll make it available to you, you know that, but not here, and no word about what other relationship we might have beyond Godfather and Godson. Am I Clear?"

Serge had wanted me back for years, he and Ace had more than one fight about it and both had cards to lay on the table. Ace could say the revelation that he'd fucked a whore and had a son who was being raised by a hit man for hire wouldn't look good. Serge could say he, easily, could get a warrant for Ace's arrest,  charges would be easy to find and that made him an unfit parent. I was never consulted. Both knew the way it was had to be the way it stayed. Neither of them planned on Ace's early exit but then I hadn't thought I'd have to murder him, just wasn't an ordinary day, that one. 

"What else is on your mind? I've been spotted with you and Billy will know in five minutes."

Serge looked puzzled. "The drive in call? Who knows you're with me?"

"A buddy of mine walked down the other side of the street, saw this car, could have seen me but was sure I was in it so, on his way to wherever, he dropped by the office or my home and let Billy know he had company. You've never lived in a small town. Interesting experience if you're from larger places."

"What's wrong with being with me? I was invited?"

"Nothing but how many cars like this do you think there are like this in a hundred mile radius? If we'd been in a pickup, at least not a new one, no one would've looked. And about the invite. Billy is jumping out of his jeans that you're coming. And I hope your stomach is up to it, he's planning a barbecue and beer party in your honor, Your Honor. Out here, food and drink are synonymous with hospitality. My hope is no one shows up with either home brew or corn likker; Should that happen, I'll shove in and stop it before you take one sip. You can't refuse, understand, but you also cannot put that shit in your stomach. Trust me."

"Taking care of good old Dad, aren't you." And threw his coffee cup out the window.

"Yep." then got out, picked up his cup, added it to mine and put them in a waste can. "You had to do that to me, you little shit...I guess I can't kiss you."

"No but you can fire up this tank and I'll take you someplace to get you a change out where I can throw you on the bed and not only kiss you but give your cock a rub down that will provide you with a bulge to match Billy's and mine. Fathers and Son displaying the goods."