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Disclaimer: If you are not yet 18 years of age or if it is illegal to read materials of this kind where you live, then please stop now. This story contains descriptions of sexual activity between teenage boys. The acts are consensual and are a result of their love or lust for one another. Please write: unkle_c@yahoo.com. I would love to hear if you like my story

Looking out across the golden fields, from my bedroom window, I watched the two black stallions galloping their way towards my house, and the sight brought back memories.

Memories of that first day here at the farm.

It's hard to believe it's been two years since we moved here.

Two whole years since my dad passed away, and mom sold our home in Chicago, and moved us here to Montana.

My grandmother lives nearby, and mom felt we should be closer to her.

Selling our home in Chicago was a huge downer for me.

I only had one more year left before graduating high school with my childhood friends, but could she wait till then? of course not!

Moms are like that I guess, but she wasn't just pulling me away from my best buds and stuff, all my memories of my dad were in that home.

So the loss of my dad was bad enough at the time, then being pulled out of high school with only one year remaining, away from the buds I had gone to school with since grade school. Away from the home that we had shared so many years with my dad.

It was all just waaaaay tooooo much shit for a teen like me to handle all at once.

Anyways, as I was saying, to add to my depressed state of mind from losing my dad, I wasn't at all looking forward to a new school, and dealing with a bunch of shitkickers.

You know the type, not very much into city folk. That's ok with me, I thought at the time, because the truth is, back then, I didn't want to make friends with any of these wanna be cowboys anyway. The few I had seen while visiting my grandmother on occasions all seemed the same. They all insist on acting tough and mean, wearing cowboy hats and boots, and tight faded jeans. Trying desperately to out do their buds, with who can show the biggest bulge without ripping the crotch out of their jeans.

Each dude constantly flexing his guns, showing off his rounded biceps.

Try as they may, they certainly weren't impressing me.

I'm no muscle god, but I do work-out every other day, or at least I did till my dad died and we moved here to no mans land.

The point is, I have an ok body my self, not a lot of muscles, yet not too thin, and certainly not over weight.

I'm 5'10", and weigh 141 pounds. My blond hair is bushy and unkept most of the time, but hey, that's my style, and a lot of chicks back home liked it, so why keep it combed neatly, you know?

I've always been told that I'm good looking by my mom, aunts, grandmother, and mostly by the girls at school. OK! So mom and my grandmother don't count, but the girls at school back in Chicago certainly count, right?

So maybe I wasn't as tough or mean as most of these cowboys, but I wasn't going to be intimidated by them either.

My problem is, ever since my dad died, I've become wicked withdrawn, not really wanting to get to know anyone here.

Besides! These girls and dudes have zero class!

OK! So being withdrawn and shy isn't my only problem, you know this already, because why would I write a story about me being withdrawn right?

Soooo! back to the story.

I watched as the stallions made their way closer, and allowed my mind to drift back to that first day I arrived here at the farm. I was down that day, not happy at all about our move.

I was even threatening my mom that I would be heading back to Chicago as soon as I finished my last year of high school and graduated.

Obviously I (for some reason) had a change of heart, cause I'm still here!

At 17 when we first moved here, I hated my new school, for more reasons than I can count.

I hated the dumb country jock boys, and I hated the prissy snobby girls, that have 'I'm waaay too cool for you' written across their foreheads .

Yet more than anything else, I hated our closest neighbors the Clayborne twins. Shane and Blake were only 15 at the time, but to look at them, you'd swear they were at least my age.

They are both on the wrestling team at school, both are close to my height, and maybe a couple of pounds lighter.

Yet because they play school sports, they work out far more than I, and it shows.

I mean it really shows!

These dudes are built like the stallions they ride on, up and down the country roads.

The well developed chest on each boy, with the pecs protruding through their tight t-shirts, would have caught your eye first, if it weren't for the size of the baskets bulging from their tight well worn jeans.

This is not to say that their well rounded butts and muscled legs were not eye catchers, because ask any girl at Calvary High School which part of the body did most girls love about the twins, and 9 out of 10 replies would be the twins bubble butts.

So you'd think that with their perfect bodies, and good looks, they'd be the most popular dudes at school, RIGHT?

Not so! Because you see, the twins were born bullies.

Now you ask, how would a couple of 15 year old bullies affect me, a dude 2 years older than they are? In my senior year while they were only sophomores!

Well make yourself comfortable, because that is what my story here is all about!

It all started for me the very first day we moved in to our new home.

I was carrying the last box into the house, mom had just left to drive into town, wanting to buy some groceries, and to do a few other errands.

As I headed up our long pathway to the front door, I heard what sounded like horses galloping across our field, I glanced sideways, and sure enough two beautiful black stallions were quickly approaching me.

Riding them were a couple of teens, I thought to be my age. When they were within a few feet from me, they dismounted their horses, and walked up to me. I set the box down on the steps, and looked them both over carefully.

I was somewhat amazed, both were dressed identical, with black cowboy hats, tight white t-shirts, black tight fitting 501 jeans, tight black leather driving gloves, and black cowboy boots.

Damn I thought, must have been difficult pouring these dudes into everything they are wearing.

It wasn't till they were practically in my face, before I realized they were twins.

One of the dudes got right into my face, and introduced he and his brother as Shane and Blake Clayborne.

He being Shane, was quick to inform me, that my mom bought this farm house from their dad.

It was their grandfathers home before he died, and they hoped in a kind of threatening tone, that we were not going to change anything.

I explained that my mom does happen to have a few ideas for some changes, and since the farm was now hers, she could pretty much do as she wanted with it.

Shane now touching his nose to mine, "listen to me city boy, before you or your damn mom decide to take it upon yourselves to change even the fuckin lock on the door, you better check with me and my bro here first. Ya got that?"

Not liking his cocky attitude, or the fact he was practically spitting in my face, I shoved him backwards. "Just who the hell do you guys think you are, you don't own this land any more! We do!"

Shane came back at me with the force of an army, punching me in the face once and at least several times in my gut, before I crumbled to my knees in front of him. Standing over me, I was able to take in his young powerful body, from his boots all the way up to his cowboy hat.

He placed his left boot onto my left shoulder and pushed me backwards. Forcing me down onto my back.

He then came down on top of me, straddling my chest, slapping me in the face a few times. "I should beat your ass real good right now, but bein that you're new around here, I'll give ya another chance. You can start by tellin me how very very sorry you are for shovin me. Then you can beg me not to beat the fuckin piss out of ya, so lets here it city boy!"

Shane inched closer to my face, with his full basket a hair from touching my chin. I stared into his eyes. "DUDE? I'll tell you what! You get off me, and we can start all over again! I don't want any trouble with you and your bro!"

Above me, standing directly in back of my head, with his legs slightly spread, was Blake. "Hey bro? Just punch his fuckin lights out, and lets get goin, I'm gettin hungry man!"

Still slapping me playfully in the face, Shane laughed at his bro's words, "If you're that fuckin hungry dude, just go inside and help yourself. Cityboy here wont mind, will ya?"

For the first time in my life, I was lost for words, of course I minded, but with Shane sitting on top of me, with his thighs wrapped in tight faded black jeans, placed on each side of my face, and his more than ample basket so close to my mouth, I felt my self getting weak.

An old fear of mine was returning.

Less than a year before, I caught my self staring at my best buds crotch one night when he had stayed over.

I mean I was actually having a hard time keeping my eyes off it, he was wearing tight white CK briefs and nothing else.

He caught me, and teased me about it for months later. Till this day I don't really know what possessed me to do that. I mean yeah! Brad had a nice body and good looks, was even considered a top notch hunk by most of the chicks at school, but that doesn't explain why I was so hypnotized by the outline of his cock nestled inside those wicked tight undies.

To make matters worse, I even woke up in the middle of the night (shortly after that sleep over) after having a wet dream.

Yep you got it! I had a wet dream about horsing around with brad and him playfully rubbing that white cotton bulge into my face. I became very weak, and wasn't able to push him away from me.

Now here I was laying beneath a dude younger than me, with that same weak feeling, only this time I could practically feel his crotch touching my mouth.

Another slap across my face brought me back to reality. "HEY BRO? I think we got a fuckin fag here!"

Blake halfway inside my house, turned back quickly, "NO FUCKIN WAY DUDE?"

Grabbing the back of my head and lifting it up so that my mouth was now pressed into his basket, "YEP! I think so dude! He was just staring into my crotch, like he was in a fuckin trance or somethin"

This brought Blake rushing back to us. "You a faggot dude? Cause I gotta tell ya, we don't take to queers too well around these parts. Do we bro?"

Shane still holding my mouth and nose pressed tightly against the soft denim crotch, with a fistful of my bushy blond hair, yelled at me to answer his bro. "WHAT THE FUCK DUDE! You deaf or somethin? You better answer my bro, when he asks you a question, else he might wanna take my place here on top of you, and teach you some fuckin manners and respect"

I tried to answer, but could only offer a muffled reply, I mean how were they expecting me to answer, when I could just barely breathe?

My head was pushed back onto the grass, allowing me to catch my breath and now answer their question. "NO DUDES! I'm not gay, and I wasn't really staring at your crotch, it's just that you are sitting so close to my face, that to you, looking down at me, it looked like I was staring at It. But I really wasn't"

A hard slap across my face, told me that Shane wasn't buying my line, "Don't fuckin lie to me dude, I know what I saw, and I saw your eyes glued to my fuckin crotch. Around these parts that tells someone that you're a fuckin homo. So I'll tell ya what dude, you admit right here and now to me and my bro, that you're a faggot, and we'll go easy on ya, and not tell anyone else. Otherwise we tell all our buds at school, and man let me tell ya, if the dudes at school know there is a fag walkin around, you'll be doin a lot more than lickin their boots! You got what I'm sayin dude? They'll make you the laughin stock of the whole school"

I felt a lump in my throat, but I wasn't about to let myself cry over this stupid situation.

I did however have to think quickly, I could lie and say I'm a fag, and if Shane is telling me the truth, he and his bro will keep it a secret.

Truth is, I can't honestly say it would be a lie.

I've been having a hard time trying to figure why I can't get Brad and his hot bod off my mind these days.

The other side of the coin is, I tell them again I'm not gay.

Then they tell everyone once school starts, that I am, then my last year of high school could be frigging hell, providing I live through it.

I stared up into Shane's eyes, and asked, "What happens to me if I say I'm gay? You two gonna beat the crap out of me and stuff?"

I suddenly realized at that moment, my question sort of admitted my defeat, letting the brothers know without a doubt, they were in control of me.

A huge smile spreads across Shane's face, "Well that depends dude, me and my bro would probably wanna use ya as our slave, you know livin on a ranch we have tons of chores and stuff, with you as our slave boy, we would have more time to spend with our buds and girlfriends. We would only beat you up, if you messed up on the chores, or didn't do as you were told by either one of us. So are you a faggot or not? I say you are!"

The lump in my throat was getting bigger, I didn't have a clue as to what I would be in for if the whole school thought of me as a fag, but I knew it would surely be frigging hell.

On the other hand, I'll have enough chores of my own to do now that mom has plans for this old farm. Besides, I have a funny feeling chores are not the only thing these two have in mind for a slave boy

© Chaz [unkle_c at yahoo.com]

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