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Subject: Last of the Line – Chapter 85 Last of the Line by badboi666 =============================================================================== If sex with boys isn’t your thing, go away. If, as is much more likely, you’ve come to this site precisely to get your rocks off reading about sex with 14-year-olds then make yourself comfortable – you’re in the right place. NOTE to the reader: “Peter Brown” aka badboi666 is, as you might guess, not in the first flush of youth: indeed he is well into the you’ll-die-if-you-get-this-fucking-thing age cohort. It has been his habit in all his stories published here to be two or three chapters ahead of publication. If he gets a nasty cough and a temperature he will post all outstanding chapters together with a synopsis of what is still to come. Then, if he snuffs it, you can at least have some idea of what befell Dab in the end. A bit like Edwin Dro Don’t leave, however, without doing this: Donate to Nifty – these buggers may do it for love but they still have to eat. fty/donate.html =============================================================================== Chapter 85 Oh fuck indeed, I thought. Before me were four teenagers engaged in mutual masturbation – each of the older boys with one of the younger ones. They were discreet enough to have their shirts and jerseys on still, so that anyone merely walking past the greenhouse would not have seen that below the waist they were naked. Trousers and underpants were pooled at ankles. Hands had frozen on cocks, but no-one had allowed his grip to fail. It took me about a second – a second which must have seemed like an eternity to the four unfortunate boys for whom all manner of disgrace must have seemed inevitable – to decide what to do. “Do yourselves up,” I said in my best officer tone,” and follow me.” I waited to see cocks safely put away, trying not to show any interest. Four worried boys followed me into the house. “In there,” I said, pointing to the room I had planned to use as my office. It had a desk and a chair, but not much else. I sat down, attempting to look severe. “Well?” No-one spoke. I pointed to one of the older ones. “Your name?” “Robert, sir.” “How old are you, Robert?” “17, sir.” “And who are your companions?” Robert hesitated. “It will be a lot quicker if you just tell me, Robert. I assume you know their names.” One of the younger ones gave a tiny grin. Robert somewhat reluctantly advised me that the others were Paul – also 17, Richard 15 and Matthew 14. “And do you find the greenhouse a good place for a wank, Robert?” Robert went bright red, and offered the excuse that today had been the first time. “I hardly think so, Robert. Boys having a wank in a group of four in broad daylight are not doing so for the first time.” The grinner – now identified as Matthew – was grinning even more widely. It seemed from the grinning that Matthew was feeling less guilty about being discovered than the other three. Both he and Richard were pleasant-looking lads yet untroubled with the ravages of acne, unlike the two 17-year-olds. My decision made itself. “I will not tolerate such behaviour,” I said. “You can do what you like in the village, but while you are here you will keep your cocks in your trousers. Robert and Paul – you are no longer required. Go and wait outside your boss’s room. I will inform her and see that you are paid what is due to you. There is no need for her, or for your parents, to know why you’re being sacked – I shall not tell anyone. Your behaviour need not be known. Agreed?” Robert and Paul looked at each other and a nod passed between them. “Yes, sir,” they both mumbled rather shamefacedly. “Good. We’ll say no more then. Off you go. I’ll see your boss shortly.” They escaped, glad, I felt, that no greater punishment was to fall upon them. What they told their parents by way of explanation was their problem. “Now, you two, whose idea was all that, eh? Yours or theirs?” Richard looked at Matthew, hoping for guidance. Evidently Matthew was the leader. Eventually Matthew mumbled that they’d been fooling around for ages, and that he couldn’t remember who started it. “They didn’t put pressure on two younger lads then?” This produced laughter – an encouraging sign. “Very well,” I said, “there’s no harm done then.” Each shook his head: things were progressing nicely. “Wait here while I see to the other two.” I put on a fierce face. “Do not run off. That would make matters a great deal worse.” Ten minutes later I was back. The senior Land Girl had accepted my instructions that Robert and Paul were no longer employed. She’d paid them the few shillings they were owed and we didn’t see them again. “Are the other two dismissed as well?” I’d assured her that they were still needed, and would probably be worked harder if the 17-year-olds were going. As I made my way back I worked out my plan. They were both still there, and stood stiffly as I came in. “Will you wait outside please, Matthew.” “Richard, I need you to be honest. You’re not in trouble, and I don’t think your parents need to know what you’ve been getting up to. So tell me truthfully, did the older ones make you join in, or were you happy with it?” Richard blushed. After several seconds of wrestling mentally he admitted that he’d enjoyed it. “Me and Matt liked it when the other two stopped kilis escort behaving like bloody grown-ups. Paul’s been really nasty up until Robert said that he fancied mucking around with us. Then Paul got friendly and … well, like Matt said, we’ve been doing it with them for ages.” “And you don’t mind?” “I didn’t like it at first, but … it was fun doing it with Matt, and the other two weren’t being high and mighty.” “Well, thank you for being honest. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to go on doing it – as you put it – with those two any more. It would be a shame if your parents had to know about it. Do you understand?” and I looked hard at him. “Yes, sir. I understand.” “Good, now off you go home. Come back tomorrow at your usual time. Ask Matthew to come in.” I was only going to have one roll of the dice. Matthew was far sexier-looking than Richard, and his knowing grins implied a deeper sense of mischief. If I was wrong it was now too late to seduce Richard. Matthew came in warily. Richard had not had time to tell him anything of what I had said to him, so he was unprepared. The two older ones had been sacked and Richard’s interview had been brief, none of which gave him any indication of what he was in for. So when I said “you seem a sparky lad” he seemed rather surprised. He had the wit to smile though, and said “am I … sir?” “Oh, I think so, Matthew. I think you and I see eye to eye in these matters. I think you are the ring-leader in the little games in the greenhouse, and you had the two older ones eating out of your hand. I think you like greenhouse games. I think it’s going through your mind that the man telling you all this isn’t cross at all, because if he was cross he wouldn’t be saying the things he is saying. It might even cross your mind that he might like greenhouse games too.” Time to shut up, Bertie, and see whether you’ve made a complete fool of yourself. The silence stretched. I began to think that Matthew was now playing me. Matthew grinned – he had a very sexy grin, with nice teeth; he really looked less than 14 – and said that if I lived here then I probably had better places to play games than a greenhouse. “Ah. Then we are talking the same language.” He nodded. He came closer. He whispered, “I fancy older men, and I think you fancy me … sir.” It was my turn to nod. “When are you expected home?” “Not for an hour,” he whispered. ***** An hour later, when he had gone home, a lot of ground had been covered, some of which James would have to know. Matthew – or Matt, as he preferred – had (with very little persuasion) had indicated that yes, he would be very interested in the offer of employment in the house. He would tell his parents that his work had been noticed, that his diligence been the subject of praise, and that it had been drawn to the attention of the young master newly returned from the RAF. (I had suggested that he use that form of words as it would be more likely to commend the offer of employment to his father who, I assumed, would give his assent.) “Tell him to come up to the house if he wishes,” I whispered – the boy was still lying beside me – “it will make it all more above board.” Matt turned to look at me. “Why? Why, Bertie?” (I had asked him to call me that as we stripped for action: we were both in an understandable hurry as no more than two minutes had elapsed from his whispering ‘not for an hour’ downstairs.) “Because you are gorgeous, because you say you like it with – what were the words? – ‘older men’, because what we just did was wonderful for both us, wasn’t it? -” (he nodded vigorously) “- and because I want to do it again. Don’t you?” Another vigorous nod. “Now?” He smiled, “maybe in twenty minutes, Bertie. I’d like to look forward to it. Besides, it takes time, doesn’t it?” I should record that I had sucked him off. No, that’s too bald. I had led him to me bed where he had lain on his back, his arms outstretched, drawing me on top of him. I knelt between his open legs and bent my head over his cock. I closed my eyes and allowed myself to breathe in, sensing only the aroma of a naked boy who had, only half an hour earlier, been interrupted in mid-wank. I could smell pre-cum and healthy sweat. I felt his hands on my cock. “Later,” I whispered, “this is for you, Matt.” I looked at the boy on my bed – wiry, fit from his work for the Land Girls, not an ounce of fat on him except (as I was soon to discover) on his arse. His face was pleasant, but would not have turned many heads unless he was smiling, for when he smiled he lit up. A pert nose, lightly freckled, curly brown hair. A fine cock, fully six inches long and with a generous foreskin already partially drawn back to reveal a cock-head generously lubricated with several clear drops of essence of boy – essence of boy which I licked gently, causing him to shudder and more drops to emerge for my hungry tongue. “Ah, yes, yes,” he sighed. I was interested to know whether his cock had been in anyone’s mouth before, but that wasn’t the time to ask. (A few minutes later he volunteered the information that it had not.) There would, I hoped, be many opportunities to pleasure him at greater leisure, but I wanted this first time to be of such intensity that he would never forget it. O took his cock into my mouth, licking along his prominent urethra kıbrıs escort on the underside. He moaned softly. I drew his foreskin back gently and applied my lips to his glans – as much, I confess, for my benefit as for his. His hands were on my head, his fingers twined in my hair. His moans intensified. “Oh God, Bertie, I’m so near.” I took my mouth off his cock. “All in good time,” I whispered. His eyes were closed so I took the liberty of planting a gentle kiss on his open lips. His mouth opened instantly and our tongues wrestled. Matt was no beginner! “Do me,” he begged. I went down on him again and ran my tongue over his glans in my mouth. I could tell from his heaving stomach muscles that he was past the point of no return, so I went on and … my reward (and his!) was soon pulsing into my mouth. Six hard jets, six deep groans, one large swallow (but not until I had savoured the taste), one somewhat spunky and much prolonged kiss. That was when we spoke of the possibility of employment. It would have been foolish not to strike when the iron was so hot. I was lying on my back, and I held him in my arms. Arms which had piloted a death-dealing machine in the King’s name; arms which would, I vowed, never deal death again, but only tenderness, and if not tenderness then at least usefulness. His hands felt for my cock – hot and hard against his belly. He looked into my eyes. “I’ve never been fucked, Bertie. All I’ve done is sucking and being sucked. Do you want to fuck me?” I kissed his tender mouth. “Yes, very much, but only if you want me to.” He giggled. “Of course I want you to. Just so as you know you’re the first.” There were only twenty minutes before he would have to leave if he was to be in home at the expected time. I made a quick decision. “Being fucked for the first time takes a lot of preparation, and I’m not going to rush it. Next time I promise I’ll fuck you, but right now you’re going to find out what older man spunk tastes like. Matt grinned. “Promise?” “Yes, Matt. And here’s a deal. Once you’ve got a mouthful of mine neither of us will come – wank or anything else – until you’re in this bed being fucked. OK?” “You bet!” I do like enthusiasm. For a boy of 14 he was very skilled at oral practices: his tongue licked my cock nicely and when he got me in his mouth there was no sign of teeth. I allowed myself to drown in the sensations he was drawing from me, knowing that here was a largely blank, if very well-prepared, canvas on which, between us, we could create great art. My experience and his willingness to spend time with an ‘older man’ would pass many happy hours for both of us. And then I was there, firing firing firing … God! it had been so long since David … ah! Matt, Matt! Over 1900 days had passed since David had been killed, and many more since I had last had sex with anyone. The release I felt hours after Matt had made his way home told me that my extended period of mourning, coloured as it had been with vengeance, was over. That day I felt chains falling from me. After dinner that evening I told James what had happened. “So quickly, Bertie! I’m impressed. And is the child to become a permanent feature?” I told him that I’d offered him a job and that I expected his father to appear to talk about it.. “I’ve no doubt. What is he – 14, 15?” “14, James, as you know perfectly well.” My father had a glint in his eye. “What post are you offering? His father will surely wish to know. It can’t be anything too grand, can it.” “we’ve only three staff indoors, so there’s a vast amount that needs doing. I’d thought about scullery boy, but that isn’t too wise – he’ll have to be out of bed far too early each morning.” “In your shoes – not that I plan to be active in this area, you’ll be glad to know, Bertie – I’d suggest valet. You had a batman in the RAF, so you’re accustomed to a personal servant. In civilian life you won’t have a uniform to be kept immaculate, so a boy can surely do what’s needed. And you’ll be training him for a proper footman’s job when he’s older. There will be a call-up at some point. Doubtless those are the kind of things you’ll say to his father.” It was as well we ate early, and that the after-dinner conversation we had had was over by 8 o’clock, for not long after then there was a knock at the door. “Nowadays I answer it,” said James, “as we have no butler or footman, but I suspect you might care to this time.” He was right. The caller introduced himself as William Ashton. “I’ve come about Matthew.” 20 minutes later Mr Ashton left satisfied – satisfied and grateful. Matthew had returned home, he said, in a state of high excitement. His work had been praised and as a consequence a good report had gone up to the Big House where a position had been mentioned. Could Matthew have been mistaken in his excitement? I had assured Mr Ashton that it was as Matthew had reported. “I’ve been serving in the RAF, Mr Ashton, and whereas I don’t need a batman to look after me I have a need for a personal servant – a valet, or at least a trainee valet. Matthew is a pleasant lad and his Land Army people speak highly of his hard work. If you are happy for him to accept the position he could start immediately. He’d live in, of course, and his wage would be 10/- a week to start with. He’ll still be working outdoors, but kırıkkale escort part of his time only.” Mr Ashton had pronounced himself entirely satisfied, assuring me that Mrs Ashton felt the same. “We have four others at home, and they all need fed, sir.” We agreed that Matthew would come the next day and return home for the last time, beginning his new job here the following day. Mr Ashton said that Mrs Ashton would pack his things, of that I could be sure. Mr Ashton went away, a happy man. Not, I think, as happy as I though. James was pleased too. “Well done, Bertie. Welcome to the rest of your life. How will you explain him to the rest of the staff?” “I’m only recently back, so they don’t know me as a man after war service. I was a boy when I last lived here. It’s natural for a man of our class to have a valet – or it was before the War. It may well be different now, but I doubt if any of the staff know that.” We had two women at that time – a cook and a woman who did all the housekeeping. While many of the rooms were out of use, shrouded in dust-sheets, there were still six rooms in use, not counting the staff quarters. A man too old for military service did all the handyman jobs. When we had returned from Canada before the War I remembered a much larger staff, maybe as many as a dozen, but that included gardeners of course. How times had changed! I could see no difficulty. The cook and the housekeeper had a small room each up on the top floor, as did the handyman. “My valet will have the small connecting room next to mine. At least, that’s where his clothes and personal effects will be. I don’t expect him to sleep there very often.” “Are you sure this is wise, Bertie?” “Of course it isn’t wise – I’m not an idiot. But it’s what I want and, in case you’re in any doubt, it’s what Matt wants. He’s 14, he’s lively and lusty, he’s exactly what I need and he believes I am what he needs. I don’t expect he’ll go to his grave thinking that, but while we each fulfil the other’s needs I don’t see a problem.” James grunted. I took that as his tacit acceptance. “Am I allowed to be aware of the position if I should chance to encounter him about the place?” My answer was swift. “No. Give me time. He may find he has a taste for a higher rank than a mere courtesy viscount.” ***** You will wish to hear about Matt’s introduction to our household. On the other hand it may be that you have no interest in his introduction to his valeting duties, but an all-consuming interest in his introduction to a more satisfying matter. Very well then. When he appeared with his little case two days after our first encounter I was waiting for him. He set his case by the front door while I took him to the kitchen to meet Mrs Denny. “This is Matthew Ashton. He’s been working outdoors with the Land Army, as you know, but from today he will be living in as my manservant. I’ve got used to having a batman, and I shall train Matthew in the duties of a valet. When he’s not with me he will continue to work outdoors as long as he’s needed there.” Mrs Denny smiled. “Matthew’s been a hard worker since he came here a year and more ago, sir.” She turned to the boy, who hadn’t said a word. “His Lordship was your age when he and his father came back from Canada. You be good and do as you’re told.” Matthew blushed and said he would do his best. I wasn’t sure whether he was talking to her or to me. After he had retrieved his case we went upstairs. I showed him his room whereupon his face fell. “But I thought -” I stopped him, and explained that we would have to keep up the pretence that he would sleep in the room adjacent to mine. “That door leads into my room,” I said, “and it’s never locked. A valet always has to have access to his master, Matt.” While he put away the contents of his case I explained what his duties would be. He grasped them quickly enough. “You’ll still be outside for some of the day, probably more when spring arrives and there are more hours of daylight. We’ll sort it out with your boss. Your other duties, the ones you are really here for – well, we can discuss those later. At bedtime would be best.” “What should I do now? And what do I call you?” “I live here with my father, the Earl of Inchkeith. You call him `Your Lordship’, and that’s what you call me. I will be Earl when he dies and until then I’m Viscount St. Kilda. That’s when I’m not Bertie, but never, ever, if there’s anyone else present. That would really give the game away. I’ll call you Ashton. Now let’s go and find Stanbury, the handyman and Gill, the housekeeper. She’s the one who will deal with my laundry. You take used clothes to her and she washes and irons them. You put them away and so I’ve always got clean stuff to wear. You’ll get the hang of it.” Matt reminded me that he had already met Gill and Stanbury as they all ate together. “Of course,” I said, kicking myself, “that means that if you see a man you don’t recognise he must be my father.” My needs for a valet would not keep him busy more than an hour or two. Still, there was no hurry to take him back out to the Land Girls. It wasn’t as though I was answerable to anyone for how my servant was occupied. It was just on 10 o’clock. Why wait any longer? “Come here,” I said softly, “I think it’s time.” =============================================================================== The fun continues in Chapter 86 as Ashton – or Matt – and I spend an hour together. Drop me a line at net – that is after you’ve dropped a few quid. ===============================================================================

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