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Ozark Bitch

12

Stranded

Patrick let out a stream of obscenities as he kicked the tire of his rental car. The damn thing had stopped running in the midst of a rainstorm the likes of which Patrick had never seen before. It was a veritable deluge and Patrick was soaked to the bone as he tried to figure out why the car had just stopped running. He was on his way from Springfield, Missouri to Memphis and he had been cutting across the northern part of Arkansas. He had left the main highway and taken a state highway that looked like a shortcut. But the state highway had narrowed from four lanes to two narrow black-topped lanes. Now he was stuck in the middle of nowhere with a car that didn't run and a cell phone that couldn't pick up a signal.

The headlights of the pickup truck approaching from behind were a welcome sight. Patrick waved at the truck and, thankfully, it pulled to a stop in back of the rental car. The driver alighted from the truck and slowly approached. He was a big man, probably about six-one or six-two and he towered over Patrick's five-seven frame. He was dressed in a plaid shirt, blue jeans, Cowboy boots and a Cowboy hat. He smiled at Patrick and extended his hand.

"Hi there, Zeke Taylor's my name. You look like you could use some help." The man smiled as Patrick shook his hand.

"Thanks for stopping." Patrick replied. "My rental car just stopped running and I can't seem to get it started again. Maybe you can give me a jump?"

"Let's have a look under the hood first and see what's up." Zeke answered.

Zeke leaned over the engine and fiddled around with some wiring.

"'Fraid a jump ain't gonna do no good. Looks like yer alternator is just fried to a crisp."

"Oh shit!" Patrick exclaimed. "I hate to impose, but could you give me a ride to a garage?"

"In this weather?" Zeke answered. "They got tornado warnings out. The bridge about a mile back is already washed out and I 'spect the bridge about a half-mile up is probably washed out too. I'm headed home to get out of this weather. If you want, you can ride with me and weather the storm at my place. Then we can get you goin' again when the storm breaks."

"I hate to put you out." Patrick said.

"Well, you sure as hell can't stay out here. It just ain't safe!" Zeke responded.

"Alright, that makes sense." Patrick conceded.

"Good. Get all yer personals outa that car and toss them in the bed of the truck." Zeke instructed.

"I can probably just leave them here till we get back." Patrick answered.

"An' if a tornado comes and blows this little car away?" Zeke chuckled.

"I see your point." Patrick responded. He got his suitcase and sample case out of the rental and tossed them into the bed of the truck. Zeke opened the passenger door for him and Patrick thanked him and climbed into the pickup.

"See, nice and dry and toasty in here." Zeke smiled as he started the truck.

They drove in silence for about a quarter of a mile when Zeke turned onto a gravel side road that began to ascend into the hills.

"Where does this lead?" Patrick asked.

"My place is up in the hills." Zeke answered. "Road gets a little bumpy, but it won't take long to get there."

"So, what's a youngster like you doin' stranded in the middle of nowhere?" Zeke asked.

"I'm hardly a 'youngster.'" Patrick said a little defensively. "I'm twenty-four and I'm travelling to Memphis on a sales trip."

"Shit, you could pass for eighteen!" Zeke exclaimed. "What the hell you sell?"

"Industrial supplies." Patrick answered and grabbed onto the overhead strap as they hit a bumpy patch in the road.

"Where's your home base?" Zeke asked.

"Chicago."

"I been to Chicago." Zeke chuckled. "Lotsa queers in Chicago."

"It's a big city. It has all kinds of people in it." Patrick responded, a little defensively.

"I went to a section called 'Old Town.' Zeke said. "They had all these clubs there that only guys went to. Some of the guys looked normal, but some of them boys were prettier than my wife."

"Is your wife at home?" Patrick asked.

"Nah. She died a few years back." Zeke said.

"I'm sorry to hear that." Patrick responded sympathetically.

"No call to be sorry. We had over thirty good years together and she went quick; no pain. Aneurism they said it was. Anyway, guy gets horny after awhile. That's why I went up to the big city. Figured to shoot off some steam and get myself laid."

"Why did you go to a gay bar?" Patrick asked.

"Stumbled into it by accident. Before I could figure out what was goin' on in there, this pretty boy sidled up to me and asked if I wanted to buy him a drink. I figured 'what the hell' and so I did. Before I knew it, we was kissin' and he was rubbin' my cock and lickin' my ear. Got me all hot and bothered and talked me into goin' to his place. I told him I didn't suck no cock or nothin' and he said that was just fine; I could fuck his ass! You ever fucked ass?"

"No. I'm not into that." Patrick answered.

"Shit! It was better than fuckin' pussy. It was a lot tighter. And the pretty boy, he just moaned like a little slut-girl and let me cum inside of him. Shit, I rode him like a buckin' bronco. What a wild fuck! He got me doin' things I never thought I'd do."

"Like what?" Patrick asked.

"He got me playin' with his little prick. He only had maybe four or five inches; skinny little prick. But it was nice and smooth and got real hard and stiff when I stroked it and slathered his pre-cum juice all over it. That was the first time I ever made a boy cum. You ever played with a prick?"

"No. I'm not gay." Patrick said. He was getting concerned about the direction this conversation had taken. "Are we almost to your place?"

"Got awhile yet." Zeke answered. "Anyway, so I used to go up to Chicago every coupla months after that. Found out I liked playin' with the pretty boys a lot. Guess you could say I become a connoisseur of sorts. I tried out all kinds of boys. Decided that I liked girly lookin' boys the best. I really like a boy who's short and skinny and ain't got no hair on his body. You know they got laser things that can take all the hair off just lickety-split? An them girly-boys is mostly real submissive and obedient-like. I fucked one that kept callin' me 'Daddy' all the time. That was really nice; really turned me on. An I like playin' with their little cocks. There ain't nothin' better than holdin' a boy's little pecker in your hand and feelin' it grow hard and stiff and get all moist on the tip."

Patrick was getting really uncomfortable at Zeke's narrative. He didn't have much of a sex life; mostly because he was short and skinny and the girls just didn't seem to go for him. He'd gotten himself laid in college, but hadn't really had a steady girlfriend, ever. He'd never done anything with another man, but he had wondered about gay sex. He'd visited some gay websites and the movies and pictures there had aroused him. He had been especially aroused by the movies of older men dominating those little boys that they called twinks. There was something about the thought of submitting to an older, masculine man that turned him on. But he had quickly avoided going back to them when he realized how unnatural sex between men was supposed to be. And he had never had the courage to pursue anything beyond the internet porn.

But now his cock was actually growing hard listening to the older man's descriptions of sex with those young boys! That fact had not escaped Zeke's notice. He kept glancing over at Patrick while he spun his tale and noticed the young man's cock tenting his pants. That encouraging development caused Zeke's cock to harden and pulse. Maybe, just maybe, he had himself a real candidate here to be his boy. Zeke decided to press his case with Patrick.

"I like boys with small, skinny cocks that still got their foreskin. You got a big cock or a little cock?" Zeke asked the young man.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Patrick said.

"Just makin' conversation. So, is it big or little?" Zeke asked again.

"Normal, I guess."

"How long is it when it gets hard?" Zeke asked.

"I don't know. I don't measure my cock!" Patrick blurted out.

"If you had to guess, how long would you say?" Zeke probed.

"I guess maybe five, five and a half inches." Patrick responded.

"Nice; just the right length. Is it thick or skinny?" Zeke asked.

"It's not very thick." Patrick answered. "Look, can we change the subject. This is making me pretty uncomfortable."

"My truck, my topic." Zeke chuckled. "I'd really like to get me a skinny boy to own."

"What do you mean 'to own'?" Patrick asked.

"You know; to be like my property, my own personal little sex slave." Zeke answered.

"Good thing slavery is illegal in this country." Patrick retorted.

"Shit! In this part of Arkansas, anything goes long as there ain't no one around to find out about it."

"Look, maybe going to your place isn't a good idea." Patrick said fearfully.

"No matter, honey, we just arrived." Patrick smiled. He stopped the truck before a large gate in the road and pressed a button on a remote to open it. Zeke drove through and the gate closed behind them.

"Welcome to Zeke's place, boy." He said as he stopped the truck in front of a large country house.

They had been climbing higher and higher into the hills all the while that Zeke had been driving and talking. Patrick had not seen a house or farm or another human being during the entire drive up the narrow dirt road that led to Zeke's house. The house was nestled in the woods and not really visible from any angle. The road had wound up from the entry gate and the house was not visible from that gate either. Patrick was in the middle of nowhere with a sex-obsessed older man!

Zeke got Patrick's bags out of the truck bed and carried them through the front door. Patrick followed him into a spacious, rustic living-room.

"I'm starvin'. You hungry, boy?" Zeke asked.

"Yes. But shouldn't we call a garage?" Patrick asked nervously.

"Sure. Phone's over there on that table by the couch. Help yourself while I start some steaks cookin'"

Patrick walked over to the phone while Zeke disappeared into the kitchen. He picked up the phone only to find that there was no dial tone. Of course, Zeke had failed to mention that he had not had a land line connected to the house for years. Zeke relied on his cell phone for his rare communications with the outside world. Patrick walked into the kitchen.

"Your phone doesn't seem to work." Patrick said.

"Equipment was probably washed out by the storm." Zeke replied. "Good thing we're in here where it's nice and warm and comfy."

Zeke fried up a couple of steaks for their dinner and probed into Patrick's background while they ate. He discovered that Patrick was single, had no girl-friend, and lived alone. Patrick's parents were both deceased and he had no close family. Zeke also discovered that Patrick hated his job; mostly because he wasn't any good at it. He had taken the sales job because of the potential for high income, but he just wasn't assertive enough to even make his quotas. Patrick feared that if he didn't do well on this trip, he would probably get fired. All this was encouraging to Zeke who began to think that Patrick might just be the best candidate for a 'boy' that he'd come across. Zeke got them a couple of beers and led Patrick into the living room. Zeke sat in his favorite recliner and Patrick sat on the couch across from him.

"So, how do you like my place?" Zeke asked.

"It's really nice." Patrick answered. "But it's kind of secluded."

"Yeah. I like it like that. I can go for months without ever seein' anyone. Nobody really has any need to come up here. And if I get lonely, I just drive into town."

"How far is town?" Patrick asked.

"It's about twenty-five mile." Zeke smiled. "But I got almost everythin' I need right here."

"Almost?" Patrick asked, warily.

"Yeah, almost." Zeke smiled. "But I sure could use a boy of my very own to keep me company and warm my bed."

Now Patrick was really getting concerned.

"Maybe we should see if the phone is working?" Patrick asked.

"A boy like you could really be happy up here." Zeke said ignoring his question. "Old Zeke would take care of you and you would take care of old Zeke." He said and began to rub his hand over his crotch.

"I told you I'm not gay." Patrick said as he watched Zeke rub his crotch.

"You might say that, but I seen yer prick doin' push-ups in yer pants while we rode up here. I think yer a suppressed little fairy just bustin' to get out and become the little slut you should be."

"That . . . that's not true." Patrick stammered.

Zeke unbuckled his jeans and lowered the zipper. He reached his hand into his pants and pulled out his cock. It was about nine inches of thick meat, hard and pulsating, the tip moist with pre-cum. Zeke began to slowly jack himself.

"Wha . . . what are you doing?" Patrick gasped.

"I'm showin' you what can be yers." Zeke smiled. "If you live with Zeke, you can have this nice, thick, piece of meat to suck all the juice out of. You can learn to worship it and serve it. You can let it transform your ass into a boy-pussy. You can become Zeke's sex slave and obey me and serve me."

"No. No. I'm not like that." Patrick gasped.

"Ain't you, boy?" Zeke asked as he slid his pants down to his ankles and continued to slowly fondle himself.

"Just look at your little prick doin' push-ups in your pants. Put your hand on your crotch and feel the wetness staining your pants." Zeke said.

Patrick put his hand on his crotch. He was wet. His cock was getting hard. It was throbbing!

"No." Patrick moaned.

"Yes, baby. You know you want to belong to Zeke. You can't resist my cock. You need to worship it. Come to Zeke, baby! Come and take little Zeke in your mouth. You know you want to. You know you need to! Get on your knees and crawl to Zeke, baby."

Patrick slid off the couch as if in a trance. This was all so surreal. He wasn't gay; he couldn't be gay. He didn't have sex with men. Why was his cock hard? Why was he crawling on his knees toward this older man's large, throbbing member? But he felt compelled! He felt helpless before this strong-willed man. And here he was, kneeling between this man's legs, smelling the strong scent of sex emanating from his crotch.

"That's it, baby. Come to Daddy. Lick Daddy's hard cock." Zeke cajoled as he placed his hand on Patrick's head and guided him to his cock.

Patrick stuck his tongue out and began to lick the throbbing cock in front of him. He licked it from the base to the moist head and tasted male pre-cum for the first time in his life.

"Oh yes, that's it, baby." Zeke moaned with pleasure. "Take it into yer mouth and suck on it, honey."

Patrick did as instructed and sucked the tip of the throbbing organ into his mouth. He teased it with his tongue and drew as much of it into his mouth as he could.

"That's a good, boy!" Zeke gasped as he watched his prick disappear into the boy's mouth. "Take more of it, slut!" He ordered and pressed Patrick's head down further.

Patrick began to gag, but Zeke's hand kept him from backing off.

"Relax yer throat, boy. Breathe through your nose." Zeke instructed.

Patrick did as ordered and the gagging reflex subsided. He took more of Zeke's manhood. As Zeke's throbbing rod slid further down his throat, Patrick could feel his own cock throbbing with desire. He put his hand between his legs and began to fondle himself. Zeke smiled as he noticed what the boy was doing.

"Don't you be playin' with yerself, slut!" Zeke commanded. "There be plenty of time to take care of you later. Right now you serve Zeke. You is Zeke's slut now!"

Zeke's words and tone made Patrick even harder. He felt compelled to obey and submit to this man. He moved his hands to Zeke's thighs as his head bobbed up and down on Zeke's cock.

"Ohhh, yesss!" Zeke moaned as Patrick sucked and licked and deep-throated his pulsating prick.

"Yes! Suck Daddy's cock, you little cock-sucker! Take Daddy's cum, you little whore!" Zeke shouted as he tensed up and thrust his cock all the way down Patrick's throat.

Patrick was making gurgling noises as he fought to keep from gagging as Zeke's cock began to spew cum down his throat. Zeke's copious load was too much for Patrick's throat. His mouth filled with Zeke's love juice and it began to ooze down the sides of Patrick's mouth. And Patrick's whole body shook as his own orgasm took control of him. Patrick's hard little prick began to spew cum into his shorts.

"Good boy! Good boy! Wet yer pants with cum, you little sissy!" Zeke urged as Patrick shook and squirmed.

Then it was over. Patrick slumped against Zeke's thigh. The head of Zeke's cock was still in his mouth. Patrick sucked slowly on it and caressed it with his tongue. Despite the violence of Zeke's orgasm, his cock was still hard and throbbing.

"Yes, yes. That's a good boy." Zeke said soothingly as he ran his fingers through Patrick's hair. "Suck on Daddy's cock like a good little faggot. You belong to Daddy now. You're Daddy's good, little boy, aren't you?"

"Mmmm, hmmmm." Patrick muttered while he continued to suck on his new toy.

"That's right, baby. You suck on Daddy's prick. Daddy is going to keep you and train you to be his slave. You want that, don't you, baby?"

"Mmmm, hmmmm." Patrick mumbled as he hungrily sucked on the tip of Zeke's cock and stroked the rest of its length with his fingers.

Zeke tensed up again and a second load erupted from his throbbing cock into Patrick's mouth. Patrick sucked like a baby sucking on the nipple of a bottle and swallowed all of this second gift. When Zeke's cock stopped giving, Patrick slumped against Zeke's thigh and allowed Zeke's member to slip out of his mouth.

"Ohhhh." Patrick sighed.

"Come, sit on Daddy's lap." Zeke urged as he helped the boy up and positioned him.

"Are you Daddy's boy?" Zeke asked.

"Mmmm, hmmm." Patrick mumbled.

"Say it, baby." Zeke commanded.

"I'm Daddy's boy." Patrick whispered.

"Yes, you are, slut." Zeke smiled.

Zeke lifted the boy's chin and covered his lips with his own. His tongue invaded the boy's yielding mouth and began to tease and excite the boy's little tongue. Patrick put his arm around Zeke's neck as Zeke began to fondle his cock through his wet pants. Zeke quickly stripped the boy's pants down to his knees and wrapped his hand around the boy's little uncut prick. Patrick moaned into Zeke's mouth as Zeke coaxed the forereskin down the head of his cock and rubbed the sensitive, exposed head with his thumb. Zeke squeezed the little cock into hardness and expertly jacked the boy off.

Patrick was overwhelmed. Zeke's tongue in his mouth; Zeke's hand manipulating his cock; it was driving him mad with lust and hunger. He wrapped his arms around Zeke and held on for dear life as he began to shake uncontrollably. His tongue lapped wildly against Zeke's tongue. His cock began to shoot streams of cum, depositing them on his chest and stomach.

"Aaaaargh!" Patrick moaned incoherently into Zeke's mouth as his body shook and quivered.

Then it was done. Patrick was spent. He slumped against Zeke's chest and curled up tightly against his body.

"That's a good boy. That's a good boy." Zeke soothed him as he ran his fingers across Patrick's cheek and forehead.

"Yer Daddy's boy now. You belong to Daddy. Rest. Rest."

Patrick sighed and closed his eyes. This was so much better than those internet movies. This was real. In just a few moments, he drifted off into a deep slumber.

Training Begins

Patrick slowly floated back into consciousness. He was laying on the couch in Zeke's living room, curled up in the fetal position and sucking on his thumb. His pants were still down around his knees and a blanket had been thrown over him. He opened his eyes slowly and saw Zeke sitting in the easy chair clothed only in boxer shorts.

12
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