THE BATTLE FOR LONELY ROCK
Chapter One: Upon Learning of the Coming Battle
By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
[AUTHOR'S NOTE: Again, keep in mind that this story is NOT meant to be an historical novel, it's more like watching an old 1950-ish Western movie, a genre as stylized in its way as Japanese anime. So please ignore any anachronisms; you might say they're deliberate, as is some rather stereotypical behavior in the secondary characters. While you don't have to read the prior series to enjoy this story, I do recommend it. The prior series is located at The Outcast of Lonely Rock].
I woke up that morning to the heavenly aroma of breakfast, and it was already well after daybreak. I turned in the large bed, alone, the covers now only holding the warmth of my own body. I did wish that Alonso and Ignacio would wake me up for the morning chores, but I was more like a pampered pet than a ranch hand with them.
I was living the life of an idle rich boy. Between the money from the sale of my uncle's ranch and my room and board being covered by the Salcedo brothers, there wasn't any need for me to work just now, and the only work I could have gotten was with King Carson. I was learning the ways of a ranch when and as I could, but the Salcedos didn't really need my help with their small place, especially in the morning chores of feeding their livestock and gathering eggs and such, so I was left to sleep in.
What had awakened me with the sounds and smell of breakfast being prepared. Scrambled eggs sitting on top of a circle of fried corn tortilla, and some hot coffee to ward off the chill of morning and wake you on up...a homey feeling that made it a pleasure to get out of bed.
So I rolled out of bed and yawned, stretched myself lazily, and stood up, nude. I'd take a bath after breakfast, I decided, so I settled for pulling on Alonso's nightshirt, which he'd left hanging on a peg beside the bed and went that way into the kitchen.
This was a large hacienda, clean and well-kept by the elderly woman now standing at the kitchen, which was more of an open-air grill and oven built into an outer wall. Her half of the kitchen was open to the air, the other half had an overhang to protect it from the elements such as the infrequent rains. In winter, they would cook in the fireplace indoors. Danielo Salcedo was sitting at the table eating rapidly, he'd have to get to the town's saloon and open its doors pretty soon. He smiled at me. "Good morning, Ben." he said to me genially.
"Good morning, Elo." I used his nickname. "Buenas dias, Rosales." I said to the woman cooking breakfast.
"Buenas dias, Senor Mott." Rosales said to me. Then in better English than I spoke Spanish, she said, "You want eggs?"
"Yes please, two." I held up two fingers. "And coffee."
"You decide to sleep in today?" Elo asked.
"Nobody came to wake me up." I griped. "I want to do more than lie around all day, but it's like I have to go find Alonso and Ignacio and then beg them to let me help them."
"You could work with me in the saloon." Elo offered. "I could use the help."
I gave him a look of near exasperation. The saloon was owned by King Carson like nearly everything else in Lonely Rock. King Carson was the man who had arranged to have my friend Jobias killed. And had hired the men who killed my uncle right after he sold his ranch to King Carson, the reason I now had uncle's money. King was as mad as me about those men killing my uncle, but that didn't make any difference to me; if he hadn't been out to own the entire county and its silver mines, my uncle would still be alive today, and so would Jobias for that matter.
King Carson wanted my body. He was blond, tall, handsome and rich...and dangerous as a rattlesnake to get up close to. He wanted me...if he could own me entirely. I wasn't going to let that happen.
"I don't think that would be smart." I said. "I'm already jumpy every time I go into town. There are so many of King's men around."
"And many who are not." Elo said. "They lack courage to face him themselves, so they look to you. All are waiting to see what you do next." Including Elo for that matter.
"Great!" I grimaced. "I don't have the faintest idea what to do next."
"So they wait." Elo said as he stood up to leave. "They will continue to wait. They must wait." He shrugged. "There is nothing else for them to do."
Rosales served me the eggs then, and I ate them, but hardly tasted them, my mouth was too full of what Elo had said.
How does one guy fight off an entire army?--for that was what King Carson had. Over a hundred or a hundred fifty cowboys, a good portion of them gunslingers and the rest none too fussy about how they earned their money. Set against them were a couple of dozen decent people, like the sheriff and Hunter (or was Hunter a native of Lonely Rock?) and others I had talked to. Just regular people trying to make a living and maybe build up something to pass along to their children. And people like the Salcedos, perpetual underdogs who couldn't count on a fair shake in the courts or at the governor's office or anywhere else. Alonso and Ignacio had SEEN who had killed Jobias, and it hadn't made a bit of difference!
Hell, why was I sticking around? None of us were up to fighting off King Carson! The man was just too damned big! What was I supposed to do, get into a gunfight with an entire army?
"You no like the eggs?" Rosales asked me.
I looked at her. "No, no, they were fine." I said. "Good. Rosales?"
"Si?"
"What would you do, if you were me?" I asked her.
She considered it. "I no know." she said, and patted my hand. "You will think of something, yes?"
I made a noncommital grunt. Rosales, too, was waiting for me to somehow save the day.
Rosales had washed the dishes and now she tied her scarf more tightly about her head and took her basket; she was going to pick up some supplies in town. I watched her go, an elderly, dignified woman.
How was I to fight King Carson? I wasn't even nineteen yet, my only family was back east in Boston, and I didn't even know how to fire a gun properly. I had come West to work my uncle's ranch and learn the business and landed right in the middle of King Carson's land grab. Now he had my uncle's ranch, and I was living with three Mexican brothers, who (whisper when you say it, King didn't like to hear about it) were King Carson's half-brothers by his father's Mexican mistress.
Footsteps on the patio outside, the stamping to remove mud or less savory items from the feet of men who had been working with horses and cattle, and I looked around to see Alonso and Ignacio enter.
Twins but not identical, save that they were both good-looking, dark-skinned men with genial smiles. Elo was pretty Americanized, Alonso and Ignacio were more immersed in the Latin culture, living like aliens in a land where they would never be recognized as true citizens even though their ancestry traced further back than any white man could claim.
Alonso was an inch or so shorter than his brother, but his features were correspondingly wider, his face was round and soft-looking, with cheeks cut by lines from his nostrils to the sides of his mouth, a cleft chin, a neatly trimmed short mustache that lapped down both sides of his mouth, his body was wide, solid, strong looking. Ignacio was taller and thinner, his cheeks were sharp and flat, his mustache the same as his brothers, with the same cleft chin, but on his face, both looked darker, sharper, stronger. His body was whipcord lean, wiry and lithe, he could lean over and press his face between his feet which he kept straight and together when he did so, his back showing every vertebrae of the spine when he did it. I had shared their large bed for the last two weeks, placed in the strategic center, available to both of them when and as they wanted me. It was odd how they made me feel, their taking of my body was peremptory and gentle at the same time, so that though they chose when and how we made love, it was always something of delight and pleasure each time their hands touched me, each way their bodies pressed against mine.
When I had first met them, they had been decked out in suits of gold and tan, the mark of the gentleman rancher. But those were their clothes for public, this morning, they wore simple, sturdy work clothes, only their hats, with the flat, wide brims, marked them as being brothers to the peoples who live south of the Rio Grande.
"Good morning." I said to them.
"You are awake now." Ignacio said.
"Yeah." I said. "And I've told you to wake me up and let me help with the morning chores."
"We would let you sleep." Alonso said. "You need rest."
"We wake you up at night." Ignacio pointed out. "I woke you while Alonso slept."
"And I woke you while Ignacio slept."
"Yeah, yeah." I said, smiling at that. It was true, my nights were regularly interrupted by these two lusty brown lovers. Sometimes both at once, but more often as they said, I would be servicing one of them while the other slept obliviously on. "But still, I should help out around this place. What am I supposed to do to earn my keep here, serve you some coffee?"
"Coffee would be good." Ignacio said.
"For me, too." Alonso said.
I gave up, got the coffee from the fire and poured them both cups, brought it over to them.
"Where is Rosales?" Alonso asked.
"Went shopping." I said as I placed the cups before him.
"Danielo is gone?" Ignacio queried.
"Sure, left before Rosales." I said as I placed the cup for Ignacio.
"That is good." Alonso said and I felt his hand reach up to cup my buttock.
As I said, aggressive but welcome. I stood as I was and let him fondle my asscheek, loving the strong, nearly rough feel of his hand, rubbing it.
"You are wearing my camisa de dormir." Ignacio pointed out.
"Yeah." I admitted. "I'm going to take a bath now I've had my breakfast. You don't mind, do you?"
"Take it off." Ignacio said to me, softly but it was still a command.
I grasped the nightshirt by the neck and pulled it upwards over my head. Alonso's hand stayed where it was as the cloth slithered up between us, so that his hand cupped my bare buttock as the shirt rose up to my waist, and he gripped my bun tightly, squeezed it hard.
I pulled the shirt off over my head and now it was only on my arms.
"Give it to me." Ignacio said, still softly, melodically, much like the soft rustle of a covey of quail through tall grass.
I extended my hands, the shirt now an oval of white cloth at my wrists, and Ignacio caught it in the middle, tugged it from me and placed it on the table on his other side. I was now bare to them, and I felt Alonso's eyes boring into my ass, it was the first in some time that he had seen it by the light of day, rather than the fumbling under the covers and obscured by darkness.
"Very good." Ignacio said, and his hand came up to cup my balls and my hardening prick jutting out in front of me.
Their hands, their hard, calloused, horned hands, were touching my body in all its sensitive places, the rough almost-scrap ing feeling was bringing my body alive. "Uh, uh, ah, ah!" I moaned as their hands, their familiar hands, knew me to my very core. Ignacio's hand was now on my cock, he pumped it with a tight grip, a rough, hard grip, he jerked my pud and then his lips came down to solace my abused glans, moist velvety-soft lips touched my cockhead and a surge of pleasure rose up my body from that feel.
I was aware Alonso's hands had moved to my sides and then to my chest, but I never noticed him undoing any of his clothes, until I felt his hard manhood pressing against my buttocks and he rutted against me. His thrusts shoved my dong down Ignacio's mouth, Ignacio took my cock and held it there as Alonso ground against me and I groaned, my pale nude body trapped between these two dark lovers, my hands were white spiders upon Ignacio's obsidian-black hair, the soft strands stroking my fingers as I sent them through this meadow of hair like young children at play, running through like white knives, leaving swathes of parted grass behind them.
Alonso's cock was hard, so hard, it was fire upon my tender nether flesh, and he grunted, and then pulled back and knelt down and shoved so that his dong slid between my thighs and bumped my balls and impacted Ignacio's chin.
Ignacio released my dick and turned his attention to his brother's prong, I heard the moist, tumescent slurping of his lips, felt the fire burning beneath me, the ardor growing among us as a fire warms the air in a mass that reaches out to touch and then embrace you.
"Ah, ah, basta!" Alonso gasped after a time and he jerked back, his hand slid between our bodies and caught his dong, guided it to my anus. I felt the hard pole knocking at my entrance, Alonso's hard hands bent me over his brother's head and Ignacio returned to servicing my prick while Alonso pressed into me. Like a pole of fire, like a shaft of steel, it entered me, and Ignacio's lips were like a mother's embrace during a doctor's examination when very young, I felt safe and warm and loved and my hands stroked Ignacio's back and silently begged him, urged him to rise up and take me in his arms, curving strokes that tugged upwards, upwards.
Ignacio rose up and I felt the work-soiled cotton shirt brush my cheek, then the sharply cold iron of his buckle and then the sharp smell of denim cloth, he was standing now and his manhood burgeoned the blue vista before me, and I felt and found the buttons, those golden metal buttons, and I pulled them, wrested them from their nested holes and was greeted by the rush of heat and male musk from Ignacio's crotch, and a triangular patch of pubic hair steamed in the morning air.
I fumbled into that wiry clump and felt the heat below it, reached down with fingers flattened by the tight cloth still gripping him firmly, felt the velvety dong, caught the silken flesh and brought it out into the air. Soft at first, it filled and reached out for me and I greeted it with my tongue like a welcome mat, beckoning it forward, and it slid out like a big, friendly dog questing with its nose foremost, and snuffling like that it worked its way into my mouth while it bathed me with a heavy, salty, raunchy aroma.
Alonso had been still while his brother entered me, now that I was properly impaled from both ends, he began to fuck me, his hard prick was a thick, nearly impudent invader into my body, and I suckled on Ignacio's prong as I relished the hard feel of his brother's cock inside me. Hard, turgid, tumescent Latino cock, it was a shaft of fiery steel within me, and Ignacio seemed to catch that fire, without moving, he turned from gentle and attentive lover to hard, lusty maverick, he caught my head and began to hunch at me in coordination with Alonso so that I was rocked by both of them, my body alternately impaled by Alonso and rammed full by Ignacio. I closed my eyes and was filled with male lust, my body was a vessel that was brimful of hard Hispanic dongs, I was riding on this horse of passion at a full gallop, loving the feel of fire and steel that burned and roiled and buffeted my body, pleasure was like the rainstorm pouring upon my body, lashing at me in waves, pummeling and hitting me with whips of liquid heat.
Alonso came with a roar, I felt his hot jizz pouring into me the way it always did, a lavish flow that seethed and bubbled inside of me, his cock harder than ever, his body moving faster than ever, even as he poured his boiling seed into me and drove his dong through it, whipping it into a lather inside of me.
Done, he leaned over me and stroked me the way a rider strokes his horse after a race, hands filled with praise and affection...good boy! Well run! Even while I was still sucking on his brother's dong as well as I could now that I was held fast in his arms.
Ignacio pulled away and Alonso released me and sat down on the floor like that, panting, sweating hard, his face shining like a brown moon in a Latin sky, he lay down, his head finding a nearby saddle as a convenient pillow and he rested like that, as his chest heaved up and down and his breath hissed like the bellows of the forge.
Ignacio was behind me now, he was pressing me down onto my knees, his urgent pressure more compelling than any words could be, I knelt as he needed me to, and then down onto all fours, and he crouched behind me and I felt his spit-slicked pud finding my sperm-splashed asshole sticky and brimming with his brother's come.
Alonso's cock remained hard as it often did after sex, and the glistening cockhead beckoned to me, tacky with his jism and quite clean otherwise, I took his dong in my hand and I licked that salty present from him as Ignacio pushed into me and he sent his longer and thinner pud into my body.
Ignacio's cock can touch me in ways Alonso's can't, it was like being fucked anew all over again, my body had to readjust to this new intruder, it wrapped around him and I coaxed pleasure from his pud by clenching my butt muscles, milking at his dong.
Ignacio groaned as I did this and he began to fuck me hard and fast, the way he did, there was nothing of gentleness in this, it was all passion and need and desire, and once you accepted that then there was pleasure for yourself in it as well, serving this potent stud of a man as he used your body for his desires, there was the security of belonging to him this much, so that his roughness itself was a gift from him because society forced him to be gentle, by being hard with me he was letting me closer to him.
I licked Alonso's dong like a piece of candy while Ignacio fucked me and somewhere in that pool of lust, Ignacio remembered that I was there and was human, his hand kindly came down and he began to jerk me as he fucked my butt, and that generous gesture in the midst of his monomaniacal passion was better than anything else I can think of. I groaned, my cock tingled with sparkling delight, like a firecracker exploding in the cool morning air my orgasm popped in my crotch and as it did, my whole body was filled with the smoke of that passion, I gasped and sprayed my jism onto the tiled floor, my butt clenched now on Ignacio's schlong hard and tight, gripping it with a killer clench, and he moaned, and I felt the hot jets of his sperm splattering me, mixing with his brother's jizz inside my ass, squirting out for lack of room to soak my butt-crack and Ignacio's balls, while he roared atop me, driving his cock with energy and intensity.
Done, he did as his brother had done, rested atop me and hugged me tight, stroked my chest with his hands, fingered my nipples in playful temptation, and stayed there until his breaths turned from white-hot bursts of steam upon my neck to soft, gentle zephyrs of warm air, and his sweat dappled my back like the first sprinkling of a spring rain, when every drop makes its own distinct crater in the hot desert sand, decorating the world before the wash of heavier rainfall blurs it all away into a single dark mud.
When he was silent and still atop me, I said, "Now I really need a bath."
"We will be working in the north field today." Alonso said. "You should wait until after we work to take your bath."
"I can't." I said, my words and my resolve coming at once. Some time during this turmoil of lovemaking, I had decided the time for action had come. "I need to go into town. Maybe I can get a line on what King Carson plans to do next. He's driving the ranchers out of business one at a time, he just finished with my uncle a few weeks ago. He's bound to have picked his next victim, maybe I can find out who."
They bowed to this task of mine (frankly, as I mentioned before, they didn't really need my help, they were more than ample to the tasks of their limited acreage) and I fetched water for the bath, washed myself, dressed and walked from there into town, a distance of less than a mile and not worth the trouble of saddling a horse.
I arrived in Lonely Rock to see a knot of men gathered about the general store which doubled as the post office and was thus a natural gathering place. If there was news to be had from outside Lonely Rock, this was where you got it. I walked up and said, "Howdy." to the men gathered there. "What's going on?"
"You haven't heard?" one of them said.
"Heard what?"
"The war's coming here." one of them said with relish. "Union troops have crossed over from Kansas and are heading our way. Probably after our silver. King Carson has taken a commission with the Confederate Army and asked all volunteers to assemble here by noon today. You didn't know about this, young feller? You didn't come to sign up?"
"No." I admitted. "And don't know if I should. All my folks live in New England."
"But you live here." he predicted dourly. "Better make up your mind quick, afore you get put into a prison camp as a spy. You should either take a loyalty oath and sign up, or just light out of here entire."
I had wondered what to do next about King Carson. With King Carson a Confederate officer and me a "damyankee," our next conflict had already begun.
THE END
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