The Telemachus Story Archive

Well I'll be Dawged
Chapter 1 - Well I'll be Dawged
By Telemachus

It was late evening as 'Butch' Wilkins paused at the door of the Black Falcon, his favourite leather hangout.  He preferred this place to the more mainstream leather bars because it was just downright seedy. It didn't attract much custom but the types who came here tended to be the types he liked.  It was located in the cheap end of town down a back alley that connected two small streets so you could assume that guys moving about in this area after dark were up to no good, or patrons of the Falcon, or both.

At six foot tall with a stocky, muscular build, Butch was the epitome of the heavy leather master. He adjusted the plain black muir cap which hid his receding hairline Doing one last "check" he stroked his thick Zapata mustache before proceeding to let his hand graze across the heavy black stubble on his cheek. He took in the sight of the thick curly carpet of jet black hair across his chest admiring on how it was nicely framed by a leather harness. A final adjustment of his leather pants and he was good to go, his heavy biker boots crunched on the plain concrete announcing his arrival as he swung open the door to the Falcon.  The odour of stale smoke and spilt beer was a familiar greeting.

He cursed to himself in disappointment as he walked across the near empty room.  Even for a mid-week evening this place was quiet.  He looked at the overweight, bald barkeep in his usual worn leather vest and dirty apron lounging on the bar and nodded for his usual beer.  It was only then that he noticed the one stranger in the place, a tall, slim blond kid in a baggy off-white t-shirt, dirty blue jeans and scuffed sneakers - and looking totally out of place in the murky, smoky bar.  The kid was sitting on a lonely stool at the darkest end of the bar nursing a small beer and resolutely ignoring the world.  He was leaning forward with his elbows on the bar, staring down at his drink, his loose t-shirt obscuring any muscle he might have.

"What's his story?" muttered Butch as the barkeep slid him his beer.

"Dunno, just ordered a drink then sat there.  No conversation at all" came the answer.

Butch looked around the room.  A couple of leather guys sat together away in a corner, another couple had a table near the door.  Blondie was the only single in the room apart from Butch.

He looked at blondie again.  His bright yellow hair was cut short in that severe way you expect of marines and he looked to be around the right age for a grunt.  Hmmm, Marines! Butch felt his dick twitch at the thought.  Young, dumb marines were one of his favourite targets.  He looked again at the guy and wondered - could this guy really be a marine? He looked too slim, wiry arms, not enough muscle.  His dick subsided slightly, skinny twinks weren't his usual type.  "Fuck it" he muttered to himself.  "Let's find out"

He picked up his beer, took a gulp, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and strode over to the kid, his heavy boots sounding on the bare floor.  "New here, aint'ya kid!" his deep heavy voice rumbled.  The kid continued to stare at his half-empty drink like Butch wasn't there.

"You a marine? Army maybe?" asked Butch as he took another gulp of his beer.  Still no answer, but Butch was getting into his stride now.  "Me, I like marines" he leaned over towards the kid and got a glimpse inside the front of the kids baggy t-shirt.  Even in the dim light he could see that the kids chest was smooth, pale and flat.  "Shit" he thought, he was right, this kid was no marine.  But he had come this far and unless someone new turned up this kid was his best shot of getting a fuck tonight.

"Yeah, I like marines" Butch slapped his big left hand onto the kids bony shoulder and gripped it, still no reaction.  "Big....  blond....  marines...." He slid the hand roughly along the shoulder and onto the back of the kids neck.  He could feel the kids neck muscles tense slightly.  He had half-expected the kid to bat away his hand or something, maybe the kid was playing some sort of game?

With the kids neck in his firm grasp he pulled him back slightly making him sit upright.  He put the beer on the bar and then placed his right hand with his palm flat on the kids chest, then moving it slightly from side to side, checking his pecs through the thin cotton.  The kids chest felt wiry with just a thin covering of muscle and no fat at all.  And still there was no reaction, the kid was just staring straight ahead like he was nothing more than a wooden puppet in Butch's controlling hands.

Butch was starting to like this game.

"OK kid.  I got my truck right outside at the end of the alley.  Why don't you and me go get some action?" Butch whispered in the kids ear as he pulled him upright and guided him towards the door, one hand on his neck the other on his arm, ready for him to bolt at any moment.  But he didn't, he went wherever Butch wanted.  Butch guided him to the truck, opened the passenger door and pushed him inside.  As he climbed into the driver seat Butch glanced at the kid, he was just sitting there staring straight ahead.  Butch thought for a moment - is he drugged up on something? Then he decided that he didn't care, he was feeling horny and the kid would have to do.

Butch drove off into the night, his silent passenger at his side.

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