Small Holding

I was sitting up in the big double-bed reading the 'The Farmer's Weekly'.

"Don't hog all the space", said my older brother Bert. He joined me under the bed clothes and then arranged my skinny body to his satisfaction. I felt his massive organ slide between the cheeks of my arse, until it pressed against my brown hole. I bit my lip while his fleshy monster penetrated the hot, tight tunnel. When it reached my love-nut I relaxed and he pushed on, cramming my rectum with his man-meat.

We were both highly respected members of our small community. Bert was 26, muscular and fit while at 18, I was the runt of the litter. At the end of the war our parents had been killed in a tragic accident so Bert was all the family I had.

The bed springs squeaked as they did most nights. Petroleum jelly might have helped the penetration and made his hard thrustings a bit more bearable. Bert never thought to use it.

I was ideal for the role of 'cunny-boy', as Bert called me, because my penis was useless.

Bert had no problems in that area. He was a sexual athlete. His heavy thighs pounded against my tender twin-orbs and I knew he'd shag me hard and long.

It was strangely peaceful, though, servicing my big brother in that most intimate of ways. There was no affectionate kissing or cuddling, just the stronger animal rutting the weaker one. While I was working around the farm Bert would often seek me out. He'd unbutton his flies and unleash his smelly, uncut monster for me to suck until he squirted a big load of his man-seed down my aching throat. Yes, Bert was definitely the boss and I was just his cunny-boy.

Right now the only sounds were the bedsprings, the slap of flesh upon flesh and Bert grunting. His big stiffy stretched my fundament and it hurt no matter how many times he did it to me. Finally, I felt him swell and then his seed sprayed the walls of my rectum.

Bert turned on his side while I got out of bed and squatted over the big chamber pot until I had expelled all his spent-seed. I wiped myself clean with a page from an old magazine. When I got back into bed again my brother was fast asleep.

I toiled hard, working the farm in all weathers. Bert did the paper work. He'd help outside if strangers were on the farm, but, apart from that, I was on my own.

This particular day I was in the barn. It was the middle of winter and light snow was falling outside. I was busy sharpening axes and the other bladed implements when Bert burst through door.

"I thought I told you to check the fence on the back paddock", he bellowed.

"I will, Bert", I whimpered. "Just as soon as it stops snowing".

"Get them down". Bert started unbuckling his belt.

"What", I stammered.

"You heard me. Idling in here when you are supposed to be in the back paddock. I'll teach you to disobey me". He folded the belt with a snap.

It was useless arguing with him so I unbuttoned my braces and let my trousers fall to the ground. I eased my underpants down and bent over the work bench.

Slowly and methodically, Bert lit a fire in my arse with his belt. He'd leathered me often but this had to be the worst. There was a spite in Bert that made him want to hurt. My backside was in flames and I was sobbing like a little boy before he quit. His finger penetrated my anus and was then withdrawn.

"Keep your cunny tight for me", Bert ordered. "I'll have that tonight".

Given the foul mood he was in I knew that before he was done my arse would be as sore inside as it was out.

He slammed the barn door behind him. I lay there, the rough timber of the work bench holding me up. Hot tears ran down my cheeks. My buttocks were boiling hot so I stayed as I was, letting the cool breeze fan the scorched flesh.

Much later I got dressed and decided I'd better check that fence. When I walked out of the barn Bert was lying on the ground. Now, growing up on the farm, I'd seen death often enough to know if an animal was dead or not. Bert was a dead man.

I ran down the track to the road and across to our neighbors, the Pearsons. Will Pearson answered the door and I told him Bert was dead. The rest of the day was a blur. Police came to the farm. The local doctor certified that Bert was dead although anyone could have told him that. The undertaker removed the remains to his Chapel of Rest.

"What happened to Bert?" I asked Sergeant Gilroy of the Police.

"Well, son, it was a terrible accident. Your brother slipped on some ice and fell back onto a a sharp prong on a plough outside the barn". He looked at me kindly. "There was nothing anybody could have done for him".

The womenfolk of the district supplied me with hot meals. We had a church service and Bert was laid to rest in the boneyard. The grave diggers hurried to fill in the hole before the ground froze. My backside still throbbed a bit from that leathering Bert had given me.

Mr Mirams the solicitor called into the farmhouse. Bert had left everything to me in his will. There was a problem because I was only 18 years old and so not legally entitled to inherit until I was 21. In the meantime, the farm was to be run by a manager.

That night, in bed, I scratched a scab on my buttocks and thought of Bert. Tears flooded my eyes and grief overwhelmed me. Sure, Bert had been selfish and worse. But he'd been my brother. It was so lonesome in bed without him. I cried myself to sleep, my head resting on Bert's pillow which was soaked with my tears.

PART 2

The everyday routine of working on the farm probably stopped me from slipping into the abyss of depression. The solicitor sent a procession of men who he thought would make good farm managers. I was looking for another Bert and rejected all of them.

Then one day a young traveler arrived at the farm house. It was almost dusk. His van was full of kitchen utensils and haberdashery. I didn't need any of the goods he had to sell and he looked a bit dejected when I told him that.

"Look, I'll be having my dinner shortly", I said to him. "Just plain tucker but good and hot. Why don't you stay and have a bite to eat with me?"

His eyes lit up.

"Thanks, Mister!"

"Call me Cecil. What's your name?"

"Sid".

We shook hands and went inside the house. I poked the fire in the coal range and got a good fire going. The casserole which had been simmering on the range would soon be ready to eat. A thought struck me.

"Would you like to have a bath, Sid? There's plenty of hot water".

"Do you mind?"

"Of course not".

"I can't think when I last had a bath. Mind you, I top and tail every morning. I wash my face first, then my bum - and the wedding tackle". He glanced at me. "I'm very particular about my hygiene".

"I'm sure you are, Sid. It would be a pity to waste all the hot water though".

I showed him the bathroom which was just off the kitchen.

"I'd better go to the lavvy first".

He went outside and walked down the path to the toilet. After a while he returned with some fresh clothes from the van. He disappeared into the bathroom. Soon, I heard the sound of running water.

There was something about Sid. He looked younger than me. I sensed an inate gentleness about him.

I set the table and did a few more inside chores. Then I remembered that I hadn't given my visitor a towel. I quickly got one from the airing cupboard and went to the bathroom. I tapped on the door.

"Sid, I've got a towel for you".

"Could you bring it in, please?"

The bathroom was misty with steam. Sid smiled up at me.

"That was grand".

He stood up and I handed him the towel. He had a skinny build. There was a small patch of pubic hair over his uncut dick. He turned and I saw his well-rounded, pink bottom.

"Dinner will be ready when you are", I said and then went back to the kitchen to wait for him.

It was a clean and shiny version of Sid who joined me at the table. His eyes lit up when he saw the food. He tucked in with gusto. My own appetite which had been absent since Bert's death returned and I felt ravenously hungry. Fortunately, there was more than enough for two hearty appetites. My guest kept me entertained with cheerful talk. He gossiped about the farm women who were his customers. All good-humoured tales. There was no malice in him.

I found myself able to tell Sid about Bert. He listened intently. At one point, when my voice quivered a bit, he reached out his hand and gently placed it on my forearm.

"You've had a bad time of it", he said. "Let go of it for tonight and you'll feel better in the morning".

"Sorry to burden you with my troubles .."

"Shh. No need for that".

His hand stayed where it was, gently reassuring me, until we got up to do the dishes.

Murgatroyd, the big old black farm cat, strolled in. He inspected Sid and then began to purr. The cat only purred when he breathed out so it was an odd sound. He even let Sid pat him which was almost unheard of. I put a big helping of raw beef mince in his dish and Murgatroyd settled down to eat it all up. Then he had a drink of fresh milk.

I wound the clock and got ready to go to bed.

"Would you like to sleep in a bed tonight?" I asked Sid.

"Normally I just bunk down in the back of the van".

"It'd be no trouble".

"That would be great". He smiled at me. "Thanks, Cyril".

I showed him the spare bedroom. He frowned.

"No sense in me dirtying the sheets, just for one night. All right if I bunk in with you?"

"Sure", I said, leading the way to the bedroom.

We both stripped naked and climbed into the big double bed. It was still daylight and the room was not dark.

"Want to have some fun?" Sid asked.

"Fun" ?

"You know".

His hand reached over and stroked my penis.

"It won't do anything", I said. "Never has".

"Well, roll over, then".

'Here we go', I thought. My cheeks clenched like they used to do with Bert. I rolled over anyway. I felt Sid's hands gently massage my buttocks until I relaxed. He rubbed his finger over my wrinkled anus. Then he got into position and used his warm moist tongue on my secret place. I felt the warm tip of his tongue penetrate my anal opening.

Nothing else had ever felt so good. His tongue made slurping noises as he introduced me to this most carnal of pleasures. His hands reached around and I felt his fingers gently tweak my nipples. All the while his tongue continued to bathe my fundament. I felt my penis stir and harden.

"Stop!" I cried.

"What's the matter?" Sid's voice was muffled.

"My dick's gone hard".

"Good!", he said with satisfaction. My bum could do with a rogering. Where do you keep the petroleum jelly?"

"Uh?" I thought for a bit. "In the bathroom cabinet".

Quick as a flash, Sid returned with the jar. "Here, put this on your old fella". He crouched on all fours with his bottom in the air. I could see his pink rosebud inside his hairless crease. Like a dream I positioned my greased nob against it. He pushed back and my dick entered him with a plop. I continued on until my nuts slapped his arse-cheeks.

"Am I hurting you?" I asked, remembering what Bert used to do to me.

"A little but that'll soon wear off. Does that feel nice?"

'Nice!' My penis felt like it was lodged in a hot, tight tunnel lined with the finest velvet.

"Yes," I replied.

Sid's inner muscles swirled around my manhood. I started thrusting, slowly at first but then full strokes. I knew enough not to want to hurt like my brother had. I felt Sid responding by moving under me. Nothing in my life had ever felt so good. Then I felt my balls start to churn and I squirted a big load of virgin spunk up Sid's willing bum-hole. Fireworks exploded as I became totally overwhelmed with the sensation of my first orgasm.

I lay on top of Sid.

"Stay there", he said. "You'll be ready to go again in a minute".

And I was!

Afterwards, I asked Sid if he wanted up me.

"No, ta. I'd like a wank though".

He put some petroleum jelly on my hand and I gently tugged his erect penis. I found myself kissing him right on the lips. I licked his nipples. Eventually, he gave a groan and filled my hand with his spunk.

Sid reached for the chamber pot which every home had under their beds in those days. He did not squat on the floor like I used to but used the pottie so that I could see him expel my seed from his anus. I found that deeply erotic. Then he climbed back into bed, I hugged him in my arms.

My mind was at peace after the miracle of having finally achieved an erection and emptying my nuts in those wondrous orgasms. I didn't really believe in miracles. I figured out that somehow Bert had controlled me so much he turned me into the feminine one. That was the reason why it had never happened before. I held Sid tighter and we both slept until morning.

Sid left after breakfast. What could I say to a young man who had awakened my manhood and given me an interest in living again?

"Goodbye Sid".

"'Bye Cecil".

We shook hands the way that strangers do and he drove off in the van. I fed Murgatroyd again. He tended to forget that he'd already eaten. Then whistling a jaunty tune, I did my chores.

written by unclegreg_1999

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