The storm poured down on us in buckets. Late spring rains are welcomed by the farmers who need it to make their soil soft and the plants fill their fruits and seeds and bodies with sweet edible goodness, but to a pair of bootless, hapless refugees like my father and myself, the rain was only a misery adding to three days of misery. At first I had welcomed it for it had been three days since I'd had a drink of water, but I was filled with water now, and covered with it and it still beat down and the thunder and lightning made it frightening to be out in the rain!
So we beat upon the cabin door with a frantic haste, to be heard above the booming heavens. We saw the light through the cracks in the window covers, so we knew there were people inside. But would they hear us and if they did, would they welcome two drowned-looking drifters?
The door opened, only a crack, but that crack showed a rifle barrel in it. A rough male voice said, "Who the fuck are you?"
My father spoke for the two of us, of course. "We're two travelers, we were waylaid by a gang and our train was scattered, we lost everything we had. We've been walking for three days, sir, please, we're hungry and tired and dirty, we just need a bit of food and a place to rest for a short time and we will be on our way again."
"We got nothing to spare." the man started, but another male voice behind him stopped him. The man said, "Wait here." and closed the door in our faces.
We stood in the rain, uncovered, helpless, hoping. My father said to me, seeing how downcast I was, "Never despair, my Son, this is the West and it is God's own land, and the Good Lord will provide. You will see."
I shivered for the rain was colder than I liked and it had been hitting me so long I was cold to the very bone. "I only hope he starts providing something soon, so far all he has provided is far too much rain!"
And as if that were a magic phrase, the door opened again, this time fully, and the man was revealed in full. A mountain of man, was my first thought, but then I saw the room beyond, dry and lit, and I dove eagerly into it, out of the rain.
There wasn't a lot to see in that room, save that it was more than three quarters of the small cabin's interior. This front room held a table and two chairs and a small bench that doubled as a container for potatoes and onions, on one side was a fireplace that held a cooking pot and a Dutch oven built into its side with a smaller fireplace under it. A smallish bed was against one wall and on that bed rested the other occupant of the cabin. Two things were immediately apparent at the first look. First, he was the son of the other man, for they were two of a kind separated only by a score of years, much of an age akin to my father and I, big, brawny men with broad shoulders and stout girth with arms like logs and legs like barrels. They hadn't needed rifles to deal with my father and me, for both of us together didn't mass as much as either of them. The same rounded face with the same steely grey eyes, cold as iron, their skin weathered and tough as old leather. This was a hard land, it took hard men to live here, it was why we had been passing it up en route to Oregon Territory in that year of 1842, but these two were tough enough to survive it. I guessed they survived by hunting and selling buffalo pelts and trading with the Indians and such. And my father and myself, two former city dwellers who knew nothing of wilderness life, were now with them.
We stood and wrung water from our clothes as best we could, and I and my father both doffed our jackets which helped a lot. I used my jacket to mop the water from my hair and then looked at the kitchen hopefully. The hour was not yet dark and there was no hint of a meal cooking or recently eaten. "Do you have any food we can have?" I asked humbly.
"Some fatback in the cupboard there if it isn't too high." the huge man pointed again and I grinned at him gratefully and went to stir up a fire.
They let me make free of their kitchen and I said, "I'll fix for the four of us. I did all the cooking for my father and myself back in Ohio."
They didn't have much to work with, but I stirred up a meal of fried fatback with corn puppies. The small balls of corn-meal dough dropped into a deep pot of hot fat to fry, along with the fatback in the skillet, made a heavenly aroma in the little cabin.
"He cooks about as purty as he looks." the son observed as we all sat down to the table to eat. I carefully took only about a sixth of what I'd cooked, and so did Dad, the other two took the other two-thirds between them. I ate every bite and wished there were more. While talking, we exchanged names, Dad told them his name was William and mine was Thomas and they were Luke, Sr. and Luke, Jr., called Sonny.
As I ate, I found Sonny's hand on my leg more times than once, and when I did, I'd look at him and he'd grin at me with a look that made me extremely uncomfortable. It was like he figured I belonged to him now, like I was his slave or something. I'd seen such things from time to time when Southerners would come into Ohio with their slaves, the way they looked at their black servants was just like this.
Fed now, and warm and mostly dry, it was now a question of where my father and I would sleep. "Do you have a barn we can spend the night?" I asked Luke as Sonny's hand landed on my knee yet again. I reached down and rather obviously removed it. "We don't want to put you out of your own beds here." If I found myself sharing Sonny's bed, that small thing, I wouldn't doubt but that he'd place more than his hand upon my body...or into it! I knew that women were scarce in the West, and that some men made up the slack by taking other men to use as women.
"We don't have no barn." Luke told me. "You have to stay in here with us." And his grin was much like his son's.
"I...I can sleep on the floor." I said, casting a nervous look at the small bed his son used.
Luke beamed. "Don't you fret about Sonny, none, he's just at the age when he figures if he don't stick it in something, it's going to fall off." And Luke laughed heavily at his joke and Sonny joined in. My father and I did, too, though nervously.
"But tell you what. Why don't you bunk with me and we'll let your father stay out here with Sonny?" Luke went on.
My only other choice was the storm, which was getting harder rather than lighter. I took Luke as the best of several evils. "All right, thank you."
"I don't want to share a bed with that ole geezer!" Sonny exclaimed, which wasn't fair, my father was still well on the fair side of forty and had no gray hairs at all. He'd married my mother at the tender age of seventeen and I'd been born before his twentieth birthday. He'd kept his body up as well, there was no spare fat on him, or on me. We'd worked hard back in Ohio and now our fortunes had gone bad, the Oregon Territory would welcome workers like us.
There was a heated argument about which of them got me in their bed, but his father won that argument, and stood up, saying abruptly, "And let's turn in now, that storm will go all night for sure."
That was fine with me, I was now very conscious of my wet clothing which was chafing my body now I was inside. The father's bed was in the other room of this cabin, and it was barely large enough to hold his bed and a small storage closet unit on one wall. "You can hang those wet clothes over the closet doors." Luke advised me. I did as he bade me, for they were the only clothes I had and I hoped they'd be dry enough to wear on the morrow. When I turned around, still wearing my underclothes, I saw Luke was standing by the bed, looking at me, stark naked.
I gawked his body, the hairy, too hairy, body with the stomach a somewhat distended globe beneath and larger than his chest, strong though it was. His shoulders were rounded but didn't look at all soft, the hairs on his shoulders stood up like branchless trees denuded by a winter freeze, but instead of gray, they were solid black and looked more like spike needles on a cactus. And there, hanging down beyond the thickest thatch of pubic hair I'd ever seen, was his cock, dangling like a pale brown sausage between his legs. "Get out of the rest of those clothes."
He ordered.
"Sir?" I asked, not believing him.
"Those things are wet, I don't want them in my bed." He said. "Sleep raw like me."
I looked at the bed, it was bigger than Sonny's, but not by that much. A husband and wife who were very affectionate could share this bed, but not two strangers. "I...I can sleep on the floor."
"The hell with that. Shuck out of those and get in this bed. Now!" he commanded.
I gulped hard and complied, and if he'd stared at me while I'd done it I would have died. But he turned away when I began to move and got into the bed, and I undressed and followed him into the bed.
"Blow out that lamp." he ordered and I did so and when darkness took us, so did Luke take me. I hadn't even settled back into the bed from extinguishing the lamp when he reached for me and his hands were hard, horned and insistent and his breath was heavy, husky and aromatic, I groaned when he grabbed me because I had never felt so helpless before in my life than I did in that bed, alone, nude and at this man's mercy.
"Can't blame Sonny for wanting a sweet young thing like you." Luke breathed into my face. "I been thinking about that ass of yours ever since you bent over the fireplace and swore I'd get into it tonight if I had to take you out of my son's arms to get to you!"
I didn't cry out (who would hear me, other than my father, and I didn't doubt for a moment that Luke and Sonny could make short work of Dad and me any time they wanted), but I thrashed and struggled as best I could. It was useless, he had me pinned down and his heavy body climbed on top of me. My legs were forced apart as he shoved first one, then the other knee in between them, and then he was shoving my legs into the air on either side of him, and all this while both hands kept my own arms pinioned against his chest. His breath was a heavy throbbing against my face as he heaved himself into position and I felt his hard prod shoving itself in between my buttocks. I knew he couldn't be lubricated in any way, this was going to be the rawest and roughest of violations, a fate I wouldn't wish upon any woman I knew and I was no woman and my ass could not be as accommodating as their vaginas.
His glans found my anus and he gave a grunt of satisfaction, "Yeah, there it is. Now I give you the porking of your life, and you're going to love it. Here it comes!" and he shoved with his hips and that huge glans pushed into my body.
I cried out then and it was a cry of sheer agony for his cockhead in my butt hurt more than anything I'd ever experienced before. "No, no, please, it hurts, it hurts!"
"Just the breaking of your cherry, that is." Luke said cheerfully. He shoved again and I cried out anew, for my agony of before was nothing compared to this new pain. Luke paid me no heed, he kept pushing and then there was a wrenching feeling as his glans popped inside of me, and then the length of his shaft followed it, the glans tearing deeper into me with every powerful thrust of his massive hips, and I was bellowing out my pain, my agony mocked by the crash of thunder and rain outside this small oasis of warmth and dryness, but both of them cruel, heartless places, one of nature's fury and one of this man's passion.
"Oh, God, Tommy, you're so fucking tight!" he heaved as he shoved another time and I felt the pubic thatch of his groin mash against my buttocks. "So tight and so fucking hot! I just want to fuck you and never stop, oh, man, yeah!" And he began right away to ram his dong in and out of me, and I groaned now, thoroughly violated, burst wide open, there was nothing more this rough man could do to me that would hurt me more than I'd already been hurt.
My pain and blood began to ease as he fucked me, and I found to my dismay a new sensation arising in me at this hard treatment. My body was more than tolerating this hard, hot organ plunging in and out of me, it was...it was beginning to relish it! How could this be? How could it be that I would not only be in this humiliating position but would actually find my body enjoying it? Was this some cruel joke of God?
I couldn't help it, I had to groan and not in pain, but in pleasure. And when I did, Luke gave a cold, cruel laugh. "You see, Tommy, you get it in you and you can't get enough!"
He began to fuck me even harder, and the bed squealed in protest as the nails of the wooden posts were wrenched from their purchase. I clung to my ravisher and gasped as my climax began to grow within me. "Oh, oh, oh, oh!"
"Yeah, come on, Tommy, let me hear you beg for it, let me hear you beg me to fuck you." Luke guttered at me. I heard that voice and knew his own orgasm was close.
"Yeah, come on, Luke, fuck me, fuck me harder, harder, oh, oh, OH, OH-OH-OH, UH-HUH, GUHHHHHHH!" I exploded my juices all over the two of us, hot wet splashes of jizz that landed on my stomach and his and Luke laughed as he hammered me all the way through my climax, and the laugh was one of separate bursts rather than a continuous chuckle.
Then, suddenly, his laughter choked off. "Oh, damn, I'm going to come, Tommy, going to come! Oh, ah, ah, HAH, AH-AH-AH-HUH, GAH-HAHHHHHHH!"
The hot stream of his jizz sizzled my innards, I felt his spunk boiling inside of me and it scalded my ravaged intestines and I moaned as he sprayed his man-load into me and then fell heavily on top of me, groaning from the last dregs of his ecstasy, this dopplered down into heavy breathing and finally, finally, he rolled off of me.
If that had been the end of my ravishment, I would have counted myself blessed, but Luke stirred to me again and again through the night, he would awaken, stir and then I would find myself again having his cock forced into me and he would again pump me hard. He didn't always reach his climax in these repeated assaults, but that didn't seem to matter, he would do what he felt like to me and I could only lay there and let him do it. I felt less like a man and more like a piece of meat and he had bought me from the butcher and now he was tenderizing me for his table. Bang, bang, bang. His thrusts didn't even hurt me any more.
The storm held on through most of the night but as the dawn finally came, it came to sunlight reaching into the cabin through some knotholes in the clapboard walls. Alone now, I got feebly out of the bed and onto my feet and staggered toward the closet.
My clothes were gone. I couldn't believe it. I looked back at the bed and realized that Luke must have scooped up my clothes when he got up before me. And I'd been so exhausted from his rough treatment of me that I had slept through his theft of my clothing.
No choice for it, I went nude into the front room, and saw that my father was in a similar state. The two of us alone in this cabin, without clothing. He looked at me with a hangdog face that I wondered about. "Are you all right, Father?" I asked, concerned.
"Yes." he said, then, "I heard you in the night."
"You did?" I flushed.
My father sighed. "You did what you had to. I won't say a word of blame that you let yourself enjoy what would have happened anyhow." He sighed again. "It's a blessing if you look at it right, the way that God lets us enjoy something that would otherwise be nothing but pain. And we travel to a place where nobody knows us and we can pretend that last night never happened."
"I'd appreciate it, Father." I smiled.
"Now if we can only recover our clothes." Father looked around, as did I, but before we could begin to search, the front door of the cabin opened and Luke and Sonny entered.
"There you are!" Luke exclaimed. "We have your clothes sunning on a bush and you will be able to wear them again, clean and new, in a few hours if the sun continues warm."
"You didn't start breakfast for us?" Sonny asked me.
"I just woke up." I said in lieu of a thanks. I didn't feel I owed them one, frankly, I'd paid dearly for the food we'd received.
"No matter." Luke said. "I want a little before-breakfast exercise anyhow." And the big bull of a man advanced on me and thrust me down onto the table, resting on my elbows, while he fumbled behind me at his trousers.
I didn't want to look up, didn't want to see my father see me be violated yet again. My butt felt so sore now, that I had had a few hours to recover from the repeated ravishments. Then, to my surprise, my father landed on the opposite side of the table in the same position, and Sonny was behind him, his hands busy at his own fly.
"Dad?" I asked him.
Father smiled wryly. "One can look at the father and see the son, and so it is with these two. As you were treated in the night by the father, so was I by the son."
"Yeah, and your dad squealed real nicely after I got it into him." Sonny grunted as he took my father's buttocks in his big hands and began to worm his dong back into him. Father made a face, a grimace, but otherwise held still as Sonny made sounds like a contented bear behind him.
For me, I had to stifle my own moan as Luke's prong again shoved into my buttocks. I had indeed half-forgotten the pain of the night before, and this had awakened it again.
I watched my father's face as he was fucked by Sonny and in my own reawakening pleasure at Luke's dong in my own butt, I thought again about what Father had said. One can look at the father and see the son, indeed. The same was true of Father and myself!
A few hours later, clothed, well-fed and with a small store of food given us as a "parting gift" from Luke and Sonny, my father and I set off walking again on the trail. We still had many weary miles to walk to get ourselves out to the Oregon Territory. But after that last night, there was nothing waiting out there that could match what I'd already been through. And as my father said, the Good Lord will provide.
