You”ll Do
Though inspired by the present pandemic, this is not a Covid-19 story, it is more a “This is the way the world ends” man and boy story.
By Ivor Sukwell
Epilogue
Boy sat on top of the earth wall of Castle Sex Things, enjoying the morning breeze as it caressed his naked perfection. Spring had only just sprung but Boy didn”t notice the temperature. Boy”s bronzed skin had not been defiled by clothing of any sort since he”d thrown his prep-school uniform out of a window in Sir”s bus more than three years ago, and any suggestion that he should cover his young adolescent desirability would have filled him with horror.
Sir, Boy smiled happily to himself, had liked looking at him naked when Sir rescued him, and Boy had only been ten then; Boy was thirteen now and his tiny cock had grown so now it was four inches when it was hard and could shoot spunk, and when Sir looked at him now, Boy could see the lust in Sir”s eyes.
Boy liked that look, liked knowing that Sir lusted for his body, and Boy always gave Sir what he lusted for. At thirteen, Boy understood and appreciated lust.
Sir had taught Boy how to enjoy sex, how to enjoy being a boy, and Boy did really enjoy being a boy. With no peer group to conform to and no societal conventions to adhere to, Boy encountered no mental turmoil when his hormonal dam burst and he was flooded with the need for sex and the only sex available was Sir sex.
Sir had rescued Boy when he was ten, rescued him because he was a boy and had hands and a mouth and Sir could do sex things with him and pre-teen Boy had been overwhelmed by the magnificence of Sir”s wonderful cock. He hadn”t understood why Sir wanted to do some of the sex things he did, but Boy liked them because doing them kept him safe and they felt nice as well.
Sir, Boy grinned to the empty fields before him, didn”t do sex things with him now, Sir had sex with him, real, proper sex, and Boy loved sex.
Boy had been worried once, when he was still ten, worried about his bum, that it wasn”t a proper bum, proper boy bum, a bum that Sir would be able to get his cock inside because Sir had told him that he wanted to cock him and Boy had been so frightened that his boy hole was too small and he would be split wide open if Sir did get his magnificent cock into him.
It had hurt lots when Sir started fingering him but Boy had been a good Boy and never complained or tried to stop Sir getting a finger in him because Sir had saved him and he wore Sir”s collar and Sir owned him, so if Sir wanted to finger him it was right that Boy should let him do that, even if it did hurt.
Sir had said that it would start to feel nice for Boy when he got used to it, and Sir had been right like Sir was always right about everything, not just about sex things, and Sir had been very nice to Boy and always sucked Boy when he fingered him, and Boy had slowly understood that his boy bum was just as much a thing for sex things as his little cock was and he belonged to Sir for sex things.
Sir had finally cocked him on his eleventh birthday. It may not, probably was not, his real eleventh birthday, but it was winter and cold and windy and rainy like it always was on Boy”s birthday, so it was near enough to be agreed as being his birthday.
Boy hadn”t thought it was possible to feel so much pain!
He”d screamed and screamed when Sir went into him, but even though he knew he was being split wide open he”d been a brave Boy and never begged Sir to stop because he belonged to Sir, Sir owned him and if Sir wanted to spit him open, then he was Sir”s to be split open .
Boy could laugh about that now, laugh at himself for being such a little, silly boy. Of course Sir hadn”t split him wide open, it had just felt like that, and felt like that the next time Sir cocked him as well.
And the next after that.
Boy shifted about a bit, making himself comfortable on the earth wall, taking care not to get tangled up in the rope that tied him to a post that Sir had banged into the ground at this look-out point.
Boy didn”t need to be tied up; he wasn”t going to run away, but Boy liked it that Sir did little things like this so he never forgot that he belonged to Sir and Sir didn”t want to lose him.
It didn”t worry Boy at all that Sir didn”t want to lose him because Sir wanted him for sex; Boy wanted sex as much as Sir did, perhaps, being thirteen, even more than Sir did.
Life, for Boy, was all about growing things to eat, going shopping and sex, and Boy didn”t mind at all about all the weeding and digging he had to do because weeding and digging, all that hard work, made his pursaklar escort body strong and gave him some muscles and really sexy legs and all that made Sir lust for him more and more. And Boy loved being lusted for.
Some things had changed since Boy was a non-spunking boy, changed in Boy”s mind, but as Boy”s formal education had ended when he was ten, he didn”t have the vocabulary and concepts to express those changes. Sir had helped him there as Sir always helped him, especially when Boy needed help about sex things.
Sir had made Castle Sex Things an amazing place, Boy thought, thinking for a few moments about something other than sex. He did that sometimes; not too much because sex was obviously the most important thing and Boy liked to concentrate on what was important.
The rampart Boy was sitting on was twenty feet high, but it was easy to get to the top because Sir had made the inside a gentle slope that was easy to climb. The other side, though, was a sheer drop into the ditch, and Sir had dug that out with the digger to thirty feet deep, so nobody would ever be able to get inside Castle Sex Things by crossing the ditch and climbing the wall.
Sir was a bit worried about other people; Sir and Boy knew there were other people who had survived the Death because when they went shopping they quite often found shops that had been broken into and it was obvious someone else had been shopping as well and Sir said there was a danger that those people might not be very nice people.
But Sir was more worried about dogs than he was about people and though he didn”t think it likely that dogs would be able to scramble up the wall, Sir had planted hundreds of those little windmill things that he took from road signs and made an electric fence with chicken wire all round the castle.
“Won”t be enough voltage to kill anything much bigger than a mouse,” Sir had said, “But be enough to give anything a decent jolt.”
The weakest point of any castle, Sir explained to Boy, was the gateway, and as they couldn”t have the ditch in front of their gateway because they had to drive the bus or the truck in and out for shopping and things, Sir had built a causeway across the ditch and that meant that anyone could just walk across it, right up to the gate.
Sir had found a really big steel gate, big enough for the bus to drive through and it had taken ages to get it on the low loader lorry that had once had big pipes on, and even more ages to get it off again and in place, and Sir had had to bash huge steel girders into the ground to fix that gate to with the digger.
Sir had found two big but small windmill things, big because they were much bigger than the little ones Sir got from road signs, but small because they were nowhere near as big as the big ones that stood on hills that Sir said were far too big for him to be able to take and use, and Sir had connected them up to the steel gates so they were electrified too.
“That”ll keep people out,” Sir had said, “But if anyone should come calling, they really ought to know that this is Castle Sex Things.”
Sir had used the digger again and put bashed in loads of chalk around the girders and made pillars, that, Sir said, would help to keep them upright. But then Sir had spent even more ages shaping those pillars so they became two gigantic cocks with proper plump balls at the base and Boy had giggled loads at having two gigantic, white chalk cocks as gate pillars.
“Should give future archaeologists a bit of a problem,” Sir grinned as Sir and Boy had admired the finished cock gate pillars, “If there ever is a future with archaeologists in it.”
Boy hadn”t known what an `archaeologist” was, so Sir explained it to him, along with other new words like “rampart”, and that had led Boy to ask Sir if there were proper words for all the sex things they did because Boy was thirteen now and not ten and he had vague memories of things older boys at his prep school had sniggered about and been caned for when Masters had heard them because they were `dirty things”.
Boy knew words like `wanking” and `sucking”, `fingering” and `tonguing”, but he was sure the proper name for the hole in his bum wasn”t a `poo lock” was it? And was it really `bumming” and not `cocking” when Sir put his cock in there?
Boy was growing up, and whilst Sir had found it amusing when Sir was a paedophile to use `little boy” words sometimes because “big boy” words might have made Boy not want to do sex things, Boy was a spunking Boy now and Sir wasn”t a paedophile anymore.
“What”s the difference between a boy and a girl?” Sir asked Boy.
“Girls are stupid soppy things,” Boy said instantly. True, Boy was thirteen and spunking, but girls in Boy”s mind were rize escort all still ten and of absolutely no interest to a boy, even if he was thirteen and spunked.
“Do you know what they have instead of a cock?” Sir asked and Boy had to admit he had no idea. No idea even that girls didn”t have cocks.
“Instead of a cock they have a slit that is meant for cocks to go in,” Sir explained, “And up inside that slit is where they have their switch for sex.”
“Like the one that”s up inside my bum?” Boy asked.
“Yes,” Sir said, “It”s not quite the same but it does the same job and makes girls cum when they have cock inside them.”
“It feels super nice when your cock bashes against my switch,” Boy giggled. “It does now, now it doesn”t hurt when you get your cock inside me.”
“Well,” Sir said, “The proper word for that is a very old word and it”s `fucking”.”
“I thought that was a really bad horrid nasty word,” a puzzled Boy said, “What does it actually mean?”
Sir explained that `fucking” was what you did when you put your cock in a girl slit and used your hips to move it in there until you spunked and somehow, when you had a really good fuck, all of you seemed to become just your cock.
And while he was at it, and still using Old English words, he told Boy that what girls had instead of a cock was really called a `cunt”.
“So “fucking” is when a man puts his cock in a girl”s cunt,” Boy said, working things out, “But that means you can”t fuck me because I don”t have a cunt, I”ve got a cock instead. Don”t you wish I had a cunt for you to fuck, Sir?”
“This is much nicer than a cunt,” Sir said and played with Boy”s cock, “I don”t like girls and I do really like boys.”
“But boys don”t have cunts to fuck, and if fucking means putting your cock in a cunt, then you can”t fuck boys, can you?” Boy pondered the problem, and being an intelligent boy, he put two and two together.
Sir did put his magnificent cock into Boy, so could that mean – “Is my poo lock a sort of cunt, Sir?” Boy asked. “It”s got my switch inside it, like a girl”s cunt, so do I have a sort of boy cunt, Sir?”
“You do,” Sir smiled at Boy, “And it”s a wonderful, tight boy cunt and it makes my cock feel very happy.”
“Yippee,” Boy yelled, “Boys have got both cocks and cunts and soppy girls only have cunts! Boys are much better than girls!”
“They are,” Sir grinned, “Much, much better.”
“Will you fuck me lots, now Sir? Now I know I have a cunt?”
“Lots,” Sir promised.
“And fuck me really properly, Sir? Fuck me hard so you really like fucking me? So you do what you said and sort of become your cock? I want to be your best fuck ever, Sir. It doesn”t hurt anymore except for a bit when you go in, so you can really fuck me as much as you want.”
Getting fucked sounded so much better than getting cocked, Boy thought, so much more sexy. And having a cunt to be fucked in was so much better than having a silly poo lock!
“And,” Boy offered, carried away by sex thoughts and hormones, “You can spank me more if you want to. Spank my bum as hard as you want.”
“Not a bum, anymore,” Sir grinned, “It”s an `arse” now.”
“Spank my arse, fuck my cunt and suck my cock,” Boy chortled, loving the way the new words sounded, so much more sexy and dirty than the words he had used before.
“No more tonguing, then?” Sir grinned.
“Oh, lots and lots of tonguing,” Boy giggled, “Spank my arse till I yell and then tongue me and fuck me.”
A movement below in the distance tore Boy from his delightful reminiscences, and he reached for the powerful field glasses Sir had found in a shop.
What Boy saw made him call for Sir, and when Sir joined him, Boy pointed excitedly to what he”d seen.
“It looks like a man leading a horse and cart,” Boy burbled, “And I can”t make out what he”s got in the cart, but behind he”s got some animals and what looks like two people and they”ve got rope round their necks, just like the animals.”
Sir took the field glasses and studied the figure below, quite long way off, and Boy was right. It was a man with a horse and cart, and there were animals roped to the cart and at the very end, there were what could only be two boys, also roped up.
It could be just a man with all his belongings, moving from one place to another, but the first thought that Sir had was that the man was an old-fashioned peddler, and the things he had were things he had for sale.
“In the truck,” Sir said, undoing the rope that held Boy to the post, “I think we should go down and take a look.”
“Autolycus at your service, sirs,” the man said, taking off his enormous hat and sweeping a low theatrical bow, appearing completely unsurprised by ankara rus escort the arrival of a naked man and naked boy from behind a bramble hedge, “A picker up of unconsidered trifles.” He waved at his cart and the string of tied animals behind it, obviously including all as `unconsidered trifles”.
He was, Sir thought, not entirely sane, but would any who had survived the Death be still entirely sane?
Sir looked at those unconsidered trifles and considered some to be of worth. There were two cages of chickens in the cart and chickens could provide eggs. A goat, or perhaps two, would keep the grass and weeds from taking over the slopes of Castle Sex Things” ramparts and provide fresh milk as well, and the two, small, ginger-haired boys at the end of the unconsidered trifles were definitely boys, and Sir had lots of uses for boys.
“For sale?” Sir asked.
“If the price is right,” Autolycus said solemnly, “What is there that cannot be bought?”
“And that includes the boys?” Sir probably shouldn”t have been so open about what he wanted, not the best way to play poker or do some bargaining. but Sir wasn”t skilled in either of those, and boys are boys and Sir liked boys.
“Of course,” Autolycus shrugged, “Everything has its price.”
“One cage of chickens, two goats and the boys,” Sir said, “If payment in canned food is acceptable.”
Some little, good-natured haggling and Sir concluded a deal that got him six chickens, two goats and two small boys for three cases of tinned food, a bargain, he thought, as one of the cases was tins of Frankfurters that he had taken by mistake as neither he nor Boy would eat them.
“Get your clothes off,” Sir ordered the boys when Autolycus had plodded on his way and Sir held the rope that went round the two ginger-haired small boys” necks, “You will never wear clothes again.”
“Sir will use you for sex,” Boy grinned, “Sir likes having sex with boys.”
The two gingers looked confused as well they might; they hadn”t the faintest idea what `sex” was.
“How old are you?” Sir asked as he surveyed the two small, scrawny and now naked boys. It was very obvious now that they were naked that the taller boy was as yet nowhere near puberty and so the smaller one was even further away from that. Sir”s balls rolled around a bit at the prospect of being a paedophile again.
Boy studied the two naked forms with even more concentration than Sir was doing. Boy didn”t know what paedophilia was, but he had learned what boys are for. Sir had taught him just about everything that boys could be used for.
“Don”t know,” the taller boy quavered.
“Don”t know, SIR,” Sir barked, “You must always call me `Sir”!”
“Yes, Sir,” the ginger”s bottom lip quivered, “I was seven when IT happened and Benny was five, but I don”t know how long ago that was, Sir.”
That, Sir thought with relish, would make them about ten and eight; five or so more years of delightful paedophilia to look forward to, and Boy was spunking now as well, so five more perfect years ahead.
The younger one hardly had a cock at all, Boy thought as he studied Sir”s new toys. The other one did have a finger of a cock, possibly just about enough to suck, but Boy wasn”t really interested in their cocks. Their cocks could wait, wait until they”d grown a bit, but they did both have mouths and perhaps, Boy thought, the older one might be old enough to have a cunt as well. Boy was interested in using his own cock, not playing with tiny ones.
“Will I be allowed to play with them as well, Sir,” Boy asked Sir as Sir drove the truck with their chickens, goats and boys back up to Castle Sex Things.
“Of course,” Sir smiled at Boy, “You are my Boy and those are toys for us both to play with.”
“Do you think the older one is big enough to have a cunt, Sir?” Boy asked. “Will I be allowed to fuck him if he has?”
“As often as you want,” Sir reached over for Boy”s now upright four inches, “Get him ready to take my cock.”
“And teach the other one how to use his mouth?” Boy asked hopefully.
“Of course.”
“They need names, Sir. Proper names. Can we call the bigger one `Cunt” and the other one `Mouth”? It”d be really sexy calling them that.”
“Cunt and Mouth,” Sir mused, “You do have such a lovely filthy mind, Boy. What would I do without you?”
“Just wank, I suppose,” Boy grinned, and then sighed happily as Sir played with his cock and balls all the rest of the way back home.
Boy”s world was perfect; Sir wanted him for sex and Sir had bought two new young boys to be their toys. Sir could spank Boy hard and fuck him lots and Boy could get Mouth to suck him and Cunt was his to fuck as well as Sir”s.
Castle Sex Things was a wonderful place to live.
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