The Man Who Got What He Wanted

With BJ ‘unavailable’ that left Keith to figure out several problems, one, very personal, which was the deep disappointment Andy had   suffered when the enthusiasm of earlier in the day regarding his adoption turned into a handshake and nothing more. These were the moments that he wanted to find BJ and not just fuck him but do him physical harm and then fuck him again. He was tired of running errands when BJ screwed up and especially when it involved his father, Bob, who made a lot of what BJ did possible. Witness the cops holding Bill in a cell in bondage...although that probably didn’t bother him; He’d seen the 1.5 million dollar mountain, had climbed it and was willing to see what happened next, not that he cared much.  

Bill, on the other hand, didn’t have much on his mind if you discounted the 1.5 million he’d received. That made a lot of what was currently going on small shit; Okay, the cops, some of them, to settle some grudges, dropped by, left him bound, and fucked him. A lot. His other visitor was the guy in the white coat with his injections for whatever they were. Had he not received the money, or at least seen it, this protracted jail stay would have pissed him off. The one thing that did was the total body shave, pits, pubes, head, all of it. The two guys who did it took a very long time, used blades that weren’t new and seemed to be almost psychic as to where they’d drag the most. Just to make some side money, the shaving was taped, put on discs and advertised. That given Bill’s body, his fighting and resistance, the cops-not clearly identified as such- the denigration when he was hauled up while hands ran over his newly shaved body with a running commentary about how they’d keep it like that, his bald head, the fucking...one of the better videos to come along in some little time. Word of its existence was mentioned to Keith who laughed, said save a couple for his private collection but the guys at the station could keep the rest. It was a more than generous gift; The second day, they had over six thousand dollars in orders and that was after the postage to send it was taken out.    

What was on Bob’s mind was that his new son hadn’t received the welcome he’d thought he’d get. The handshake from Keith, nothing from BJ, and hugs from his new Dad….Remembering the style plates that had paraded into his bedroom one morning, Bob gathered up Andy, hired the guy who usually flew him when he wanted to get far out of town NOW and went to Dallas. The twenty grand Bob spent for clothing and whatever at Neiman Marcus certain made Andy look great...on the outside. Of one thing he was sure, the sad eyed man did love him even if the clothes were over kill. He still pulled on his levis and boots, shirt and, now that he was unemployed, wandered around the big house. The highlight of his day was morning when, by now, he showered with his Dad, they shaved together-he was getting pretty good at using the straight edge-the long breakfasts with their boots up, talking about nothing in particular, then Bob was off to his office, giving Andy a hard Dutch rub, telling him he’d be back real soon. Andy would stand at the big front door, wave while the tank of a Lincoln pulled away then went back indoors...Checking in Keith’s and BJ’s room produced nothing….back to his room hanging up new clothes….trying them on...but maybe, hell, it would kill some time, yep, he’d do it.

Keith and BJ did have a project which had inadvertently been hurried along when Bill wound up in jail. Knowing that for their purposes, they could never bring their new acquisition into their father’s home, they’d acquired a farm house surrounded by not much, a barn, not used in years but, most importantly, no neighbors. This was to be Bill’s home for...well...for some little while. If he guessed BJ would get bored and set him lose, he’d figured wrong; Perhaps only Keith had an inkling of an idea as to what BJ would do...he hated the word...sadism but it occasionally flew in and around his head like a wasp with poor intentions, just no agreed landing site. Wasn’t a day went by one of the two brothers didn’t think up….something to do, try, inflict, watch, demean him….it hadn’t come to them, it would to Keith, not to BJ, the point of the drill was to completely break Bill, leave him almost unwilling to make a decision, afraid of what he’d done to others but the big one, beyond  terrified at the sight of a cock knowing what it could and would do to him in so many ways. The joke would be...he knew those ways, had done them, liked them but in time….he’d see a guys bulge and almost hide. Would it take a while? Sure, but...this was a long term deal, forever if they chose to make it that long; For once Keith did not worry about BJ’s attention span, this was something he wanted to do, badly.

At night as he surrounded Keith with his strong arms, viciously pressed his cock up his ass, Keith could hear the snarl come into this voice, the deep determination, the viciousness.  Grabbing Keith’s balls he’d forget…. “They’re mine, mutherfucker but you sold ‘em and now they’re mine...” That was when Keith had to fight, and fight hard. In his mind  BJ had substituted him for Bill and was attempting to milk him for a load by just squeezing, squeezing until even in the agony, Keith had to keep his mind and, finally, fought back. BJ never noticed as he lay on the bed holding a body that wasn’t there, his big cock up an ass that didn’t exist...his whole contorting body put into torturing...the air. Trying to get his breath, and appalled at what he was watching….he remembered telling Bob the reason he didn’t live with BJ was he was afraid he would kill him. By now his brother, deeply into the fantasy,  was pounding his own nuts, making them deliver, give him the pain and the triumph…..he was screaming, “Come you fuckers, or I’ll tear you off..”

He watched an Amazon River of sperm spread out from the man he loved, saw him roll in it, lick it, run his fingers through it, stick up the mouth of the non existent person then lay there, spasming little spurts of himself growling, making marks on his chest as his nails pulled through his hair coating each shaft with the milk from his body ….In the dark just as if one were flying over the real river the first long flowing spurts shone a brilliant silver but also silently gave warning that no one could swim it and survive. No One.

Andy had too much time on his hands. By all standards, he lacked for nothing, beautiful home, a father who adored him, two brothers who….well, they were involved in some project that his Dad told him to stay out of. Okay, he could do that, easy since he had no idea what they were doing or where they were doing it. Going to see his son was….both poignant and painful. Johnny always looked beyond everyone, said nothing, was well cared for but didn’t recognize his father or anyone. Once he’d bought him a puppy that the child just looked at, didn’t know how to play with and, eventually, he found a family with young children who would love a puppy, loved this one….Johnny never noticed the animal was gone. Going to see him, which he felt he must do, almost killed him. Each time he hoped that just maybe...some incident, some gesture, something that even modestly suggested he knew he was there….No.

Sitting in his room, some of the clothes hadn’t been put away simply because he didn’t know where to put them, but he remember Keith and BJ that first morning, when they were so damn pleased he’d be their brother but now….Bill consumed all their time.  He threw himself on the bed to think, decided what to do, picked up some of the clothes, put them on and did what every whore going out for business did, called a taxi.

Aidan was stunned to see what he could only think of as the new, vastly improved Andy. Always welcome, the little stud was one of the nicest ones, the good guy, the one who did do freebies if he thought a guy was down and just getting off would do some good.

Aidan had reason to know that as the day after Christmas two years back Andy had wandered into an empty bar, cold, almost broke, but desperate for money to pay for something for Johnny. What he  found was Aidan with a black eye and every sign of rather recently having had a  beating.  Instantly concerned, worried, asked nothing, simply got behind the bar, hugged Aidan with one arm while fumbling around to try and make some sort of ice bag.

“Buddy, whatdya need, here, lets get you to sit down, Jeez, Aidan, here, put this...sorry it’s dripping...Holy shit...is your arm broken?”Aidan could just look at this nice guy with the hair that couldn’t be combed rustle around, try and do what he thought he could do to help...He almost laughed to himself, probably the sweet guy would offer some nuts from the bar and take a drink order. Instead, he wrapped himself around Andy and cried. Not knowing what else to do, he held him back, carefully, no idea what other damage there was.

“C’mon, you live upstairs don’t you?” Didn’t wait for an answer, just turned the sign from open to closed, didn’t bother with the lights or locks then struggled to get Aidan up the stairs and onto his bed. Because his son, his Johnny, had so many medical problems, Andy had more than a base level of what to do, what to look for and, if you found something...how to maybe make it better. He didn’t know Aidan all that well but he did know he had to get his clothes from him to check for what else might be wrong-that arm was clearly broken, not as bad as it could be but beyond where he could set it.

Later, when Aidan remembered, what he thought about was the look in his benefactor’s eyes that radiated like a blinking neon sign…. “I’ll Help, I’ll Help, I’ll Help”. Why did he laugh-later-Andy was hardly a prude but in this situation, he carefully did not remove the scrap of cloth that some ‘designer’ called an ‘urban jock’ (In seventeen colors plus Camo). Satisfied that he was in a bed, warming, as comfortable as he could make him until, he hoped, he could persuade him to visit the emergency room although the day after Christmas...the clientele was going to be Daddies, badly hung over daddies, daddies wounded trying to assemble something that had said “some assembly required” when what it should have said, ‘you can’t do this if you have a degree in engineering’. And, of course, daddies so badly, egregiously, dismally, horribly hungover that why theirs eyes weren’t bleeding….medical miracle. But...what Andy did know was that in the midst of all detritus of Christmas, a real patient, with a real problem to whom time was not the curative would practically be carried through triage on the shoulder of interns and residents anxious to render aid and comfort to someone who really needed them, live up to the Hippocratic Oath. Especially those who’d forgot to bring a change out set of scrubs and were, therefore, bearing sight and odors of a person who had been hit with projectile vomiting. Radiology would give him the Cadillac of pictures, so gently held in position and while that was going on, soothing syringes would be stuck in him to ease his very real pain. Andy knew all that...it was just a matter of getting him there.

Time for some first aid. Making sure his ‘patient’ was, well, not comfortable but at least warm and not likely to move about, he scattered downstairs, made a withdrawal from the line of bottles and hustled back up. As easily, he didn’t want to hurt him, if he’d been that badly beaten, maybe his jaw? So carefully unplugged the bottle, held his head in just let a few sips of Brandy slide into his mouth. It stayed down, seemed to like it, he gave him a few more sips….just enough so he could tell whomever at ER that, yes, he’d given him some Brandy, just not too much. Compared to the men in various stages of discovering what ‘too much’ can do, finding one who’d even had not ‘enough’ was a welcome sight.

On the bed, Andy was quietly rubbing the body in front of him, not so much for sexual purposes but almost palpating him to find if there was anything else that needed immediate attention apart from the arm. One thing hookers know and do almost on auto pilot, how to give a guy a good rubbing that gets them on the road to sexually aroused; Without meaning to, he’d done that. In his increasingly comfortable, Brandy suffused mood, Keith was growing wood, smiling slightly, which Andy noticed but not the growing stem further down.

“Buddy, this isn’t quite the moment but...I sure would like it if you could blow me….heard you’re swell, just something long, peaceful...” He turned his head to see if his words had found a home. That’s when Andy turned his head to notice what the ‘urban jock’ was no longer concealing, a good, cut head atop a growing erection. He also gave him a good pull on the Brandy bottle….

“Sure, my pleasure, all the nice things you’ve done for me….if….you promise you’ll let me take you to the hospital, get that arm fixed.” It was a good moment to extract a promise as Andy had his hand around a good looking cock, was bending over, his mouth opening….but waiting for an answer.

“Okay” then leaned back forgetting pain, enjoying the Brandy but mostly the curls covering his crotch, his prick in a warm moist place that...seemed to have a tongue wrapped around it…..As he slid further into pleasure, he would have agreed to anything. Or anything more. Brushing his curly headed friend, there was something else…

“Andy? Could you, I mean I’d sure feel better if you’d sorta...get up on me then I could slide into you, put my knees up, you’d be comfortable, both of us have a pull on the Brandy.”

Jesus Andy had a great soft accommodating smile… quietly stripping, he shifted over until his bulls eye was right above incoming, slowing let himself  down, could feel the soft, moist head just at the door to him, continued on, little by little, sort of like doing the stations of the sexual cross. When he found his prostate was greeting a guest, he relaxed, let Aidan enjoy the warmth, the feeling of his tang being held by a friendly Boa, the knowledge that...soon there’d be the beginning of a nicely done up and down, not to get him off, no, not for a long time, but just to begin to lay the foundation for later. Aidan pulled his knees up, Andy leaned back, made himself more comfortable. With his good hand, Aidan stroked the part of his chest and abdomen the could reach, hefted his nicely shaped, hard balls realizing they were loaded...oh yeah, he thought, maybe we can’t shoot together but, he bet himself, we’ve each got two in their fleshy cannons, just need to apply the fuse and wait for the explosion.

Whatever his physical condition, the two of them were fusing into a sort of sexual single entity where one was feeding the other precisely what was  needed. Andy leaned forward, kissed Aidan found himself held there by an uninjured arm...felt a slight withdrawal as an anxious tongue worked its way around his face. Aidan tried to communicate that he was at the edge but was too far in pleasure to do so...Taking Andy’s neck in his teeth, he bit down as he filled his ass, coating his prostate, with sperm, so great to be able to do this just because he was wanted and in this wonderfully kind man….when he got control of himself, he tried some deep, wonderful strokes that said, these are for you, I’m going to give you all I’ve got, take me force me to give it up, and then the second wave, the softness, the ones that overflowed the tank just as Andy, convoluting his abdomen, shot a bukake shot just for his mate, enough so that each could lick and get mouth fulls. Inside, the warm dark place, Aidan’s hard cum slickened rod found it wasn’t finished which caused deep strokes to get out the last, strokes so intense Andy had to hold on to the bedding to keep from falling off but  oh Jesus, the pleasure...he only hoped Aidan felt some of the same.

It was quiet for a while, Andy leaned forward as much as he could to rest his head on the chest in front of him. Aidan held him with his one arm and it was peaceful.

“I wanna blow you, the edge blow, the hard, painful one that ends so good, bet it will take away the pain….” Then saying no more, lifted off his friend, got sideways and started the slow, torturous sucking that, in time, could cause thrashing as deeply buried semen fought to get out, fought to force the muscles to drag it up, throw it up the slender tube in the hard stalk into the warm cavern where a tongue waited for it, to eat it, to lick the hole at the end to get every drop then let the body, dripping with sweat fall back so completely satisfied that he wondered if he’d ever want sex again.

Andy appeared with a bowl of warm water, some towels then began to clean him, occasionally finding spots of cum which he licked up not knowing from whom it came. Pulling a finger through a larger pool, he’d press into Aidan’s mouth who held it there as if he were giving the crème coated finger a sucking, wondering if there was more. They said nothing. Just at the end, when he was clean and dry, he put his one available arm around Andy, drew him to him then simply kissed his cheek. It was the most profound thanks he’d ever had.

The visit to the hospital was easier than he’d thought it might be but only because his usual business helped; Ran into an intern who had patronized him, liked him and, of course, knew the story of his son. Finding him helping someone else proved what he’d long thought, this was no whore, this was a man trapped by necessity to doing something….didn’t matter. He martialed a couple of his buddies who, after a quick explanation,  were only too glad to help-Andy had been right, looking around the waiting room, for the brief period they were there, the population was largely male, Daddies who looked like they’d been kicked in the head. Will, his resident friend, scooted them over the walking wounded, got them into an exam room, called for X-ray, got that done, put Aidan’s arm  in short cast, gave him something for pain plus an envelope with some pills, written on the front, ‘one by mouth every four to six hours’.

Andy tried to thank his friend, told him he’d come back, make it up, he knew he was busy but let him know and he’d be available...Will held him for a moment, looking over his shoulder and thought….why are the good ones, whatever they do, always the ones who do the most for others. Just because he had to, he said that, sure, maybe they could even have a quick dinner….now, take his buddy home, take care of him and then turned away. He wished he had a friend like that, he really did.

The rest of the day was strange, whatever Will gave him did knock down the pain to the point that he opened the bar with Andy as his waiter, order taker, busboy….the guys, worried when they’d dropped by earlier, were relieved, good to see Andy, sorry for whatever happened and made an unspoken promise to leave very good, Christmas size tips for his ‘helper’. At the end, it was a happy day, everyone pitched in, there weren’t many, mainly regulars so Aidan was finally made to sit down, served a drink and that’s when the Christmas Carols started which morphed into some songs that while certainly celebratory, were hardly appropriate to the season.

One of the older men, well he was 50, also an occasional client of both the bar and Andy, slipped him a C note, told him to spend the night, maybe two there...they’d all see that nothing happened. One thing….who’d  beat him up. Just to avoid future trouble he claimed he didn’t know but it was obvious, it was a signature beating, one from Bill.

Looking at him, fancy clothes, he wore them well and, Jesus, whoever he was hanging out with knew a thing or two, Andy probably didn’t know it but that watch on his wrist was no Timex, more like what it said on the face, “Cartier”. He was all smiles, now, now that he was at the bar with an old friend.

“Andy, what’s happened..look at you...you look...great.” He smiled and ducked his head, a little embarrassed. “I got a new family, Bob, Keith and BJ’s dad, adopted me, me and Johnny so I don’t have to work so hard...course, I don’t know how to tell my new dad, I like sex and well, just ‘cuz  I don’t have to sell it doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it….” He smiled.

“Take off that fancy jacket, unbutton your shirt down to your navel and get behind this bar, grab one of those big white cloths, you know how to tie it around you, fuck you can still work, give you something to do and...” He smiled. “...I know who your first fuck is gonna to be….” Andy looked at him...and he remembered. “Guess we don’t have to go to the hospital.” Aidan just grinned. “Not unless you get me so hard and deep I split.”

There was a surprise; The angel tattoo on Andy’s chest. Those in the bar who knew him not to mention Aidan who knew him very well were not prepared for that...It occurred to him nobody but the family had seen it and while he was used to it, really liked it...there was a certain shock value to everyone else. Aidan just stood there… “Jesus… and do not tell me that was a welcome to the family present, I know that work; Nobody but Josh does that quality.” He turned toward the rest of the bar. Didn’t need to say anything….the stares were enough. Whatever else it was, how ever well done it was, this was not typical of Andy….although, after a moment, it seemed to suit him...Aidan just shook his head. “Why don’t you just work topless...that’d be a first around here.” And grinned at him while he peeled off his shirt, secretly hoping there’d   be just enough chill with the door opening and closing to make his nipples firm up...wondered if he’d think about piercing them?

Bob played the message several times trying to decide if he’d gone crazy or what he’d heard was a message from his youngest kid. He played it again. It was a good moment for Keith to show up-first time in several days. “Where’s Andy?” Bob hit the replay button and watched his second son’s face as it couldn’t process what he thought he’d just heard.

“Again.” Bob almost did but then did not. “It’s the same message your brother, by the way I want to kick you and your other brother in the nuts for the way you walked away from him, your brother has found a job working topless in what I’m guessing is a gay bar. Why else would he work without his shirt?”

The two men looked at each other while concurrently it came to them. Almost a Greek chorus; “The Angel”.

“Keith, no way would he go in, pull off his shirt and offer to work topless in any bar, sexual preference no object...” While Keith knew that was a statement of fact, it was the only fact that registered on or off his Richter Scale just then. “What’s the number he called from, that antique  phone thing you use show that?” It did. “Aidan’s, of course, he wouldn’t go anyplace strange but that place is familiar to him, I’ve been there, BJ has been there, Bill has been thrown out a few times….”

“Is he safe, I mean, there are bars and then there are bars...gay or otherwise. I don’t want my kid in some sleazy place, he can’t get beat up again...like the last time.”

“Uh, Dad, that’s not likely to happen, remember? We’ve got Bill safe where he can hurt no one….” He had to pause to laugh when he remembered something he and BJ were planning for Bill, just not something he needed, or wanted to share with anyone, much less his father. “How’d he get there? Doesn’t have a car...does he even have a license?” That was a difficult question given that the only person Bob knew had a license was...himself. All the cars were in his name which was the only way he could get them insured. “Maybe...I...we...should go down there, get him,  bring him home...he doesn’t need to work….”

“Well, he sure as hell needs to do something cooped up here all day, only thing he gets to do is when you’re around which amounts to evenings and weekends, never thought of it, he’s too polite to say anything but...he needed something to do and I’ll bet the poor kid thought, well, hell, I’ll go to  the bar, at least they’ll be people I know….”

“Jesus, how rotten a father have I been? I don’t know, somehow I thought adopting him solved everything for him but it probably made things worse...stuck here, no car, no one but the staff, when they’re here...Jesus, Keith, as you’re brother is so fond of saying, ‘I fucked up big time’.”

“You say it too, where’d he learn it?” He went to the bar and poured each of them a stiff drink. “Down the hatch”. All the men drank it straight and didn’t bother with sipping. “Listen, Dad, part of this is my fault, well, mine and BJ’s, after the fuss we made over him I just shook his hand and walked away...You’d do more than that for someone who was retiring after ten years with the firm and he just joined it...Gotta think of something to do...Now he’s sorta run off, got a job, figures, well, figure it out, he figures we probably do love him but we have things to do and he’s not part of any of them...I can see why you wouldn’t take him to the office…” “Well, I could have but...” “Yeah, why would you? At least here he’s got television or a computer or whatever, watching you make money wouldn’t interest anyone….but maybe BJ and Bill. Sometimes I think those two have more in common than we understand.”

“So what now?” “Not much we can do, he’ll have to come home, I mean, won’t he come home?”

“How will he get home, doesn’t have a car, jeez, oh Keith, I fucked  up big time and I really love the little squirt.” “So do I...don’t call him ‘squirt’, he’s too polite to deck you although if you called me that, I would. Only thing you can do is...wait till he comes home and go from there...want me to stick around?”

“Thanks but...I gotta start back at the beginning, he’s your brother but first, he’s my son and….” Bob looked out a window, noticed it was dark, wondered what time his child would be home….if he even came home. The more he pondered on it, what reason was there to come home? A closet full of fancy clothes with no place to wear them, no body to take him out, show whoever his son, show people how proud of him he was….just empty rooms, silence, a father who loves him and, well, what did I do? Taught him to shave…..Bob sat in a chair in the reception hall, didn’t know how long he’d be there but even if the sun rose and Andy hadn’t showed up….he’d at least have waited up, that showed something...didn’t it?

Maybe being 51 made him feel stiffer than he thought but, when he heard the car on the driveway and looked at his watch, Christ, he’d been sitting there almost five hours and in a chair that was only made to sit on briefly while you pulled on you boots. One thing, it had to be Andy, who else? The door quietly opened, Bob saw someone carrying their shoes as if they’d come home too late from a date and didn’t want the household to know. He had just seconds to decide and then knew what to do. Rushing to him, he threw his arms around him saying how worried he’d been. Andy seemed perplexed.

“Dad, I left a message, didn’t you get it?”

“Yeah, but, son, it didn’t make a lot of sense...you were working topless in a bar? I mean, if that’s what you want to do but you can imagine, it shocked me, didn’t even know you were going out and...” He stopped, Andy’s head was drooping in fear of the lecture he could hear coming...he hadn’t meant to do anything...he’d left a message.

“Son, I am so sorry, you have every right to go out and all I’ve got is the right of a dad to be worried. Twenty years from now, I’ll still worry about you. Come here, arm in arm father and son...up the stairs, oh...want a quick drink before…?” Andy laughed. “Dad, I’ve seen enough bottles tonight to think I’d turn against my mouth wash bottle...and it’s plastic. Just, you and me, up the stairs, how long have you been sitting there? Jeez you must be stiff, know I am,  bed is gonna feel real good for both of us...don’t ya think?”

“Might feel better if you slept in with me...just for tonight, let me get over being worried...how about it, son?” Andy looked bright eyed at him… “Sure, nobody I’d rather sleep with than my father...if we can get up the stairs and fall in….” But there was one more thing on Andy’s mind...something, something his Dad didn’t realize but needed to. As they settled in Andy moved over his father so that he could see his face. “Dad….I guess I need to tell you, but, before I did, well, you know, what I did for money, I slept with men, I liked it..and...I still do. Please, Dad, I am so appreciative and love you but, well, sex is sex and I enjoy it so please...understand...”

“Andy, I’ve been a fool, of course you need whatever kind of sex you like and want, bet you’ve fucked your brothers...so just, please, be careful. He smiled. “ I gotta give you the Dad talk, disease, men you don’t know, places...” Andy smiled. “Got it...but Dad, uhm, what about you? You’re young, a stud like your boys...don’t you ever want to, well, go out and get laid?”

Bob looked into the darkened room, rolled over and smiled at his youngest…. “Son, that’s why men have hands...” Andy understood but wondered…. “Well, I’m your son, I guess I take after you so...that would mean I’m your right hand man.” Bob was stunned to feel a warm hand caress a long quiet cock...felt it respond, and and didn’t give a shit if it was his kid, he knew he would enjoy this one because it was done with love…

Elsewhere, Keith had BJ cuffed up and was reading him his version of the riot act. They had fucked up. Big time. Forgot him. Forget Bill, he was bought and paid for and there whenever they wanted him. BJ was ashamed-which surprised his brother-he had a new project, Keith groaned, what to do about Andy, how to make him know he was their brother? What could they do? Well, the answer to that was simple, pay some attention to him, not that he was sure how to do it, but...take him someplace...BJ suggested he be shown Bill and the ‘arrangements’ that were being made for him. Keith shot that down, Bill and Andy had a history and nothing in it even vaguely suggested any sort of involvement with what they had in mind, nope, no sir.

Out of the blue, BJ had it, they could all go to Josh, get a sort of brother tattoo, only they’d have it, Josh was great at design, he could come up with something. Look at the guys they’d had inked to come and wrestle...and whatever. They all had some ink so it wasn’t as if they were trying to persuade him to do something he hadn’t done and, from what he’d been told, got off on the experience, certainly that fucking big angel on his chest said he must have liked it...what did Keith think?

What he thought was that since there were no other ideas, at least so far, it was a good one. His ink collection would always welcome an addition, Josh was truly a gifted artist plus he’d watched while Josh painstakingly applied the angel on Andy, he could see he liked doing it and liked the person on whom he was working. Keith wondered if that could be said for BJ who regarded the tats he had as things got on the moment, didn’t regret them but didn’t give a shit about them either. Another tattoo was just that, another tattoo and, he admitted to himself, Andy was a great guy so having something in common with him, good idea, glad he’d had it. As to commonality, Keith knew that his older brother and his younger brother were far apart, Andy would never and could never see the overt sadism, his love of inflicting and accepting pain but...it was the beating Andy got from Bill that started all this mess. BJ was easily able to see that as no structured application of pain and distress, that was just cruelty something, oddly, BJ really wasn’t, cruel.  Maybe, just maybe he cared more than Keith saw...at least enough not to hurt him if he was in one of his moods. Some days those ‘moods’ scared him made him wonder how long he might survive...love couldn’t protect him, not from BJ.  The only thing that, currently was calming him was the possession of Bill and his plans. If Keith had noticed one thing, it was that his brother could do a lot of damage in his mind without displaying it to anyone. Unless you counted his epic hard ons which were displayed no matter how restraining the jock was. Keith could see him drift away in his fantasy mind to his places where he was playing hard, his crotch almost split and, in very little while, foaming white would seap through the filigree in his belt buckle...That’s when the fear set in, that’s when he had to know, be instinctive as to how far into another place, the one filled with his favorite pain and desire to give and receive it….Was it even possible to imagine that his loathing of Bill and what he’d already done to Andy put some sort of magic cloak of protection around him? Great idea, dangerous to assume-one day as he watched his bulge expand, his ability to communicate disappear, he’d seen him beat up a tree; It didn’t fucking matter, Andy wasn’t any safer than anyone else and in that group...he knew he was simply by time and association at the front of those likely to be clobbered….eventually.

The only problem with BJ’s ideas is that once he had them, told Keith, got his approval, was that he considered them effectively done deals. Keith would figure out all the details, just tell him where and when and what he needed to do but, until then, he had other things on his mind. Keith sighed, let his eyes briefly close; At least this didn’t involve violence.

Aidan could not have imagined the success Andy would have with his Angel Tattoo plus working topless at the bar. The next day, when he came in, he found some new pants he was supposed to wear, more like something from “Magic Mike” than some guy working in a bar who got hot and took off his shirt to cool off. These were almost what might be called stripper pants, the rise from the crotch was just barely enough to cover what was under his bulge. And tight. Aidan liked the look but wondered if the hair coming over the top….would Andy let him sort of do some man scaping? In other words, would he let him shave his crotch and part way up, jus leaving an attractive treasure trail to where it fanned out across his pecs...and those nipples...pierced? Would he think about it?

It was early so for the hell of it, most of the guys there knew everybody else, so he suggested to Andy that his shearing be a somewhat public event, he knew the guys they’d think it was great and….ten minutes later he found himself naked, on the bar, Aidan with clippers and eight or ten guys making suggestions as to what to do and….offering to pay money to shave his nuts…..When they finished, he looked damn good. One of the guys said he’d come back the next night with a straight razor and smooth him out, give him that baby butt look...and also  bring a couple of temporary tats to put above the treasure trove. It occurred to Andy that his Dad...well...what he was doing went a little beyond working in a bar, was getting close to exhibiting himself in a bar...which might not make him happy. Although, as he happily remembered, he’d made him one happy father when he finished shucking him down, figured...if he could do that, what else?

Keith got hold of Josh, told him the idea-he immediately appreciated it, said it would be his pleasure to work something up and, oh, by the way, could he have Andy drop by? He’d called about something...and he wasn’t sure he’d remember how to get there. Sure, consider it done; Josh said he’d call back when he had a couple of ideas for the guys to look at, reminded him about Andy,  asked how the ‘Bill Project’ was going-it had been suggested to him he’d have a part of it-was told, thanks to BJ never sticking to one thing, it was going slowly….which Josh completely understood; BJ had part of a shotgun inked down one arm that lacked the trigger and part of the barrel…

Jerry was unaccustomed to hearing Bob’s voice when it seemed not to be annoyed or mad or furious...and needed yet another new car. His first words on hearing from one of his better clients was, “Bob, we’re out of Silver, would Navy do?” Laughter, nope, needed a new car for his new son. Jerry almost dropped the phone-how many sons were there? He was familiar with what he referred to as the ‘wrecking crew’ but another son? That got explained even if Jerry was still puzzled...was there an upper limit on sons? This time Bob wanted a really slick car, something sexy… “Stop right there...just got a trade in, last years Corvette...I’d buy it myself but the car costs more than a divorce which is what I’d need if I bought it….Black, black leather interior, all the bells and whistles, just right for one of his..’ he gulped ‘studs’. Didn’t even ask the price.

That night when Andy got home, the front of the house was lit up, his Dad was leaning against a car and….from his smile...he guessed it was for him. Actually, it all matched. Andy had worn his  black, stripper pants home now showing his hairless abdomen; He’d thought to try and let Bob see what he was doing, nothing was wrong but they both stood there looking at various and sundry.

“Like it? It’s yours.” Andy was afraid to inhale too deeply for fear he’d reveal how much else had been shaved. He looked at his Dad but...something… “Andy? What is it?”

He stuttered… “Dad, I, I can’t accept this, it’s way too expensive...and I love you for thinking of me but….Dad, you’ve given me way too much...” This was an unusual turn of events; No one had ever refused a gift no matter the price so he didn’t quite think what to do. “Son, I want you to have this or...if you don’t like this one, well, we’ll go see Jerry and find something you do like...I’m sorry, I thought this would please you….”

Andy was in a panic, the man had mis-read what he meant, was hurt that, well, hell, he  ran to him, put his arms around him, “Dad, it’s just that nobody every gave me anything...I just don’t know how to accept things, I mean, I know you want me to have it, what man wouldn’t want it, you just took me by surprise...”

“Sorta like your, uh, pants and new hair cut.”

“Oh, yeah, that….I meant to surprise you...kinda even aren’t we?”

He really loved his father, the car was just a side issue. “Dad, will you let me pay you off for it? That’d make it alright with me..” Inwardly Bob swelled with pride at this son who really did want to make things right. Hell yes, he’d let him pay it off...if he took forever, he’d always remember this son, this honorable son, even in almost no pants and shaved to look like a stripper did the right thing. And then he had a lightning bolt of an idea...so stricken with it he almost fell over.

“Andy, that’s a deal...now come on upstairs, lets get into bed and I’ll let you make the first payment just like you did last night. Gotta tell you son, you made your Dad happy...embarrassed for a moment but...” he smiled at him. “Did they shave your nuts as well?” He got back a smile that said, you’ll see….you’ll see.

Josh was pleased to have Andy come by, he’d called, after Keith called him, not able to explain the reason for the visit. No matter. He remembered the first time, the magnificent angel, still something he’d like to look at, it was great work but something about the flesh canvas...something…..? What he clearly remembered was how he’d responded to this own body, his tattoos, Keith’s comments on them. But...with this man it went somewhere else, as if he understood why they’d been put on, what they meant...Josh shook his head out of that thought.

“What’s wanting? Won’t touch the angel...”

“Uh, no, uhm….I got a job where I where these pants and, well, they don’t come up very high so I thought, maybe, uh, right across the top...something...I don’t know...” And stopped partially because he did have some sort of idea but wondered if to explain it would offend this man who was an artist. He forged ahead. “In a book, I saw the top part of this old building, there were two guys, gods I think, laying there, nothing too….uh….sexual just….”

“Hold on, I think I know what you mean...” Which of course he did and, even he conceded, for what he wanted it was a brilliant idea all he wondered was if he’d let him take it further? Found the book, thumbed through, opened it, showed Andy.

“That’s almost it, wow...whattaya think? Good for where it would go?” Josh smiled, patted his head, told him to slip out of his pants and he’d do a sketch on him...also give him a better shaving. As he let the young man remove his clothes he thought about the first time, the way Andy had reacted to his sleeves...something beyond just admiring the look...something that almost mad him wonder if he was seeing what Josh had seen? The horror of the figures, the way they were were displayed...he wondered.

Andy stood in front him, naked, the area shaved clearly apparent that the area around what looked like a field mowed for a game didn’t work...he could fix that. He stood up… “Remember Keith told you about my body?” One minute later he, like the man in front of him, was naked but...covered with color, all figures, too tightly wound to easily discern. “Come here, Andy, I want you to feel my body….” Then watched as the younger man carefully approached, with trepidation but out his hand to touch a shoulder, recoiled, put it back, open palm, his face almost contorted. Josh pulled his hand off. “One more thing, lean down, lick this spot on my thigh, tell me...”

“Blood...it tastes like fresh blood...why, sir?” But then saw the mans penis, fiery red, only the head...and that was an explosion. He could not restrain himself, he had to feel the fire, taste the explosion, his mouth engulfed the flaccid instrument but, he had to, make it hard, make the explosion, the fire be carried to him…

Josh stroked his naked back and saw, in his mind, what it would someday be. This was one of the few who instinctively understood pain but could not yet realize the enormity of this gift of  being a sensitive, so sensitive that, although he didn’t realize it, if he put so much as a hand on someone, he would know something about them. He ran his fingers thru the mass of deep brown locks and could see not Andy but the cap of curls on the most magnificent of statues….He leaned his body over the man who held his cock in his mouth waiting, longing for him to be moved to somewhere else on this body, the body that passed erotic, took him to the dimension where….possession, however, was the only answer. Josh lifted up, took a finger and started tracing a design starting at the nape of the young man’s neck….As to what he wanted today? The open entry into the perfect flesh canvas that he’d always wanted…

Bill had only slightly noticed that...although he had the money, he was never let go to do anything with it. For two weeks he’d been living in a barn watching a structure made from concrete bricks be built around him. The walls, at the joints of the bricks, had...things, some rings, some hooks, some simple poles that came out and were secured. BJ or Keith dropped by often enough, made sure the chains that now held him to the wall were long enough to allow him to reach the shitter, the sort used in prisons that have a basin at the top. And each day the walls grew...it was still essentially an open structure but each day, depending on the weather, another layer was added to one side or the other. There was a bench for him to sit on, just wide enough to nap on but for that kind of money, he could play along but Holy Shit, Did He Need To Get Fucked? He mentioned that to Keith who stuck a king size dildo up his ass, promised there’d be something like it built in the wall so he could self service his own fucking….he hoped he could wait.

All work stopped for a bit while a heavy duty flat top pick up rolled in, the sort equipped with a crane to off load the cargo which, in this case, was a steel door and some sort of levering device from which depended a chain. Oh, two smaller doors, made from bars….After the truck left the work continued. In a rare comment, one of the  brick layers said, “Yep, these guys know what they want...I heard when this was done, they was  gonna just burn down the barn….”