Daniel’s Bottom

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The storm finally broke when we were less than an hour’s ride from
the homestead. Daniel, the 16 year old son of the wealthy runowner,
and I had ridden high into the hill country to round up stray cattle.
The clouds burst, sleeting us with hard, driving rain. We penned the
cattle beasts into a roughly timbered yard, fed and watered the horses
and then made our way inside a drover’s hut.

“Stay there until morning” the runowner said emphatically when I
explained the situation by cell phone. “It will be dark in less than
an hour”. The boss broke the connection.

Daniel had managed to get a decent fire going. The hut was spartan but
well equipped with emergency canned food and blankets. We stripped off
our steaming wet clothes and, naked, let the heat from the fire dry
us. At the age of 41, years of working outdoors kept me fit and
healthy. I was proud of my muscular body. My hair was black to match
my swarthy skin. My pedigree was questionable unlike that of my young
companion. His UK forefathers had founded our young country. Daniel
looked absurdly young and vulnerable. I felt my penis begin to stir at
the sight of him so I draped a blanket around myself. He had already
covered himself up again.

The meal was not at all bad. Daniel ate a huge plateful and burped his
appreciation. He was still at boarding school and just home for the
Easter holidays. St Crispins was an exclusive school for boys. Most
were the sons of runowners and farmers for whom boarding school was a
geographical necessity.

“What would the teachers at your posh school say if a boy belched like
that?” I pretended to grumble.

Daniel smiled. His brown eyes looked directly into mine and caused a
tenting effect in the front of my makeshift toga. Did he realise the
effect he was having on me?

“School grub never tasted THAT good”, he said by way of explanation.
He shifted his position and winced.

“How’s your bum? Sore?” I asked. We had been on horseback for most of
the day and Daniel was not an experienced rider.

“It hurts a bit”, he admitted. I looked at his lithe young form
shrouded by the blanket and swallowed hard.

“Roll over mate and I’ll rub in some ointment.” He did as I asked. the
old horse blanket still covering him.

A search of my saddle bags unearthed a tube of Doctor Sloan’s remedy.
I looked again at the youth lying so submissively before me. The light
of the fire combined with an oil lamp to illuminate the tiny shack and
Daniel.

My particular letch is for the male buttocks. Those exquisite
well-curved mounds of compact body-flesh are my weakness. I pulled
down the blanket exposing Daniel’s bottom and gasped out loud. His
beautiful twin orbs were covered with six crimson welts and the
surrounding flesh sported spectacular technicolour bruises.

Daniel cleared his throat: “I had to drop my pants and bend over for
the housemaster.” He looked up at me. “I’ve taken over 100 strokes in
three years so you’d think I’d be used to it. Beaky really knows how
to thrash a boy and a whacking from him hurts like hell”.

I stared at the stripes on the boy’s magnificent mounds. Never before
in my life had I seen anything quite like them. At my school corporal
punishment had been abolished before I went there. Obviously, the
privileged boys of St Crispins still received that age-old discipline.
I reached out a finger and gently traced the puffy ridges caused by
the beating. Then I gently rubbed the ointment onto Daniel’s swollen
buttocks. He sighed his appreciation and his globes parted, exposing
his hairless crease and tiny puckered bud. How I wanted to ram my hard
tool up that virgin hole! Daniel was almost of legal age but as he was
temporarily in my care I just slapped his rump lightly and,
regretfully, pulled the blanket back up.

Daniel brewed a strong billy of tea. I thanked him for the mug he
offered me. The liquid tanin scorched my throat but warmed my belly.
Then we built up the fire before lying down to sleep leaving a
respectable distance of clay floor between us.

It was early the next morning when I awoke to feel Daniel beside me.
He was naked and had gently pulled off my blanket. My penis stuck out
like a poker from its forest of black hair. Daniel had one hand around
my thick shaft which he had positioned inside the crease of his
bottom.

“What the ….?” I stuttered. Daniel looked unabashed.

“I want you to bum me. Please! I never wanted anything so bad”, he
pleaded. “I expect it will hurt a bit but nothing like one of Beaky’s
whackings. Come on! Bum me now! Please?”

I am mere flesh and blood and when that desirable youth offered me his
cherry all qualms vanished. I kissed the nape of his neck and Daniel
shivered expectantly. I found the ointment and squeezed the tube,
greasing my finger. Daniel leant forward, offering up his glorious
arse. I touched his pink bud and gently penetrated him. He was so
tight! His sphincter pulsated on my probing finger. I took my time
opening his bottom until he was able to accept two of my fingers.

Then I sat in front of the fire. Daniel lowered his slight body onto
my big man’s penis. His hand guided it inside his orifice. Daniel
gasped as my thick shaft swelled inside him. Inch by inch he descended
until at last my pubic hair touched his sorely striped bum-cheeks.

Gently, I pushed him forward. We moved as one until he was kneeling
with my hardness deep inside him. I started thrusting, slowly at first
but then harder, faster. I was rewarded by Daniel moving under me. The
firelight cast moving shadows onto the wall of that drover’s hut. How
many times had that scene been played out on the old earth floor? I
wanted to be tender for the youth’s first time but lust overtook me
and the thrusts became almost brutal. Daniel trembled and bit down
onto a blanket as I pummelled him.

Then I felt my penis erupt showering my seed high into Daniel’s
rectum. I shouted and the youth slumped forward. I lay on top of him,
my now flaccid penis still inside. Eventually, I pulled out hearing
his tight bung muscle ‘plop’ as I did so. I found some tissues and
cleaned him first and then myself.

Spent, we lay in front of that fire. I covered him with blankets and
we slept until daybreak.

The morning dawned bright and clear. I was concerned about Daniel’s
reaction to losing his virginity but need not have worried. When he
saw I was awake he flung his arms around me. He was like a rare plant
which had suddenly and unexpectedly blossomed.

Later, back at the homestead, Daniel’s mother got ready to drive him
across the rolling Canterbury plains to St Crispins. His father paid
me my wages. I was a casual drover and work was waiting for me on
another station. He thanked me for taking care of his son. If he had
known how I’d deposited my seed up Daniel’s arse he’d have shot me on
the spot.

So, Daniel went back to St Crispins and Beaky. Back to having to
submit to painful beatings. I felt envious of the housemaster who
could attend to the youth’s backside whenever he felt like it. Then I
remembered how willingly Daniel had accepted my own ‘rod’. The thought
cheered me and I encouraged the horse into a canter. The road was
dusty but all around us was the scenic splendour of the Southern Alps
and the McKenzie country.