End of Dynasty 4

By Ashan published April 21, 2007
Summary
Another shinhead is broken- this time by his brother and two Vets
Dale had never been so angry. His tight-knit little gang of Skins was unraveling, weakened by traitorous defections. First he had lost David. The stupid twat had given up on them to join the scouts. The fucking boy scouts, for Christ's sake. He would gave confronted him about it but the only times he ever saw him he was being dragged around by his mother in his stupid uniform. At least Jason had done something manly by joining the army. The National Front would need soldiers one day.

As far as Ricky was concerned, Dale could hardly bring himself to think of the scale of his betrayal. He had gone over to the enemy wholesale, not only working in the Rajal's corner shop but living in their flat. In place of his button down shirts, drainpipe jeans and Doc Martins he now dressed in stupid girly clothes and was even letting his hair grow.

There were only four of them left now and to ensure their loyalty to each other Dale had made them become blood brothers, cutting their arms so that their blood could mix together. So far the tactic seemed to have worked. Both Brian and the Elliott brothers appeared as firmly committed to the NF cause as ever. Dale was not to know that Martin already had the Elliots in his sights.

Although they were only two years apart the two brothers were very different. Sid was built like a brick shithouse. His mere presence was enough to ensure that the local shops paid for protection. His muscular arms and huge fists marked him out as someone who was used to fighting and good at it.

Darren was almost the opposite of Sid. Small and weedy he hero-worshiped his older brother and had only joined the gang in the hope that Sid would think well of him. He followed his brother around like a lost puppy and anything Sid told him to do, he did.

Martin had been tailing the brothers for days, preparing his plans and waiting to pounce. It wasn't going to be easy though. He needed to work alone with each of the boys and the two of them were pretty much inseparable.

Eventually he had worked out a plan. Darren couldn't run as fast as the other gang members and as a result had been arrested after one of the gang's rampages. Because of his age he had got of lightly, being put on a year's probation. It meant very little really, he had to avoid being caught again for twelve months and every couple of weeks he had to endure an insufferable hour with his probation officer where he would receive counseling about his lifestyle and alleged problems.

It was easy enough for Martin to slip into the officer's mind and persuade him to skip his last appointment of the day and when he turned up on Darren's doorstep the boy had no reason to think he wasn't the stand-in he claimed to be.

All of Darren and Sid's family lived more or less on the wrong side of the law and their dislike of authority figures meant that they all cleared out when the probation officer called. So the boy was on his own when Martin arrived and he had no one to help him as he found himself rudely shoved into the living room.

"Right you racist toe-rag ...the easy ride ends here" said Martin affecting an abusive aggressive persona that was far from his own. "I am Mr. Edmondson and I am setting new conditions for your parole. No arguments, no excuses do you understand?"

Martin induced strong feelings of fear and respect in the boy's mind, His stupidity made his mind more malleable than most, so achieving his aims wouldn't take that long. In fact the boy should be grateful for what was about to be done to him. He would emerge a stronger, more confident person, for it wasn't Darren that Martin really wanted to punish. It was Sid. Darren was just the monkey, Sid was the organ grinder.

"Sit down you little twat". Martin pushed Darren's chest firmly so that he collapsed into an armchair. "Now listen to me. It's time for you to stand up to your brother. He's a bully and a lout and you are going to bring him down"

Darren opened his mouth to protest, he loved his brother and besides anything he did to offend him would only result in a beating. On the other hand the probation officer seemed to be as aggressive and dominant as Sid was. The best thing to do was to shut his mouth and pretend to play along.

The man's face took on a kindly expression. "Look Darren, I've read the files, I know you are a clever, good looking lad whose ended up being punished because of his stupid lout of a brother...help me, it will be good for you. Your Mum will be proud of you if you can help me do this. For your family's sake we need to tame your brother."

Martin stayed silent as the boy thought. The idea that Darren was clever or good looking was total shit. He was thick as a plank and even a youngster-obsessed priest wouldn't touch his pasty, spotty body with a bargepole. But Martin knew that telling him that he was clever and good looking would appeal to the boy's vanity. No one had ever said any thing complimentary to Darren and he drank in the compliments with a greedy thirst.


Martin handed him a card "This is the deal. Every day at twelve o' clock you will telephone me on this number to receive your orders. Trust me I will repair your family. Your mother will be so proud of you if you do it properly."

Darren gulped and nodded. "Good. Now tell me where your brother is I need to see him."

Martin pushed his way through the men in the smoky pub. It was a real low-life place full of unemployed lay-abouts and drunks. Technically Sid was too young to be there but his size and appearance meant that he had little trouble getting served and as Martin approached the table where he was sitting alone he was gulping at a pint of cider and a whiskey chaser.

"Hello" Martin said, smiling as he took the chair opposite. "You're Sid aren't you? I wanted a little chat with you"

"Fuck off" the skinhead growled. The dapper well-dressed man was everything he hated, middle aged, middle class and patronizing.

"Now that's not a nice thing to say. You really should be nice to people. You are so unpleasant to people especially your brother. You really should try to be nicer to him."

Sid just growled in response but the words had hit him as no other words ever had. He looked closely at the man there seemed to be something about him that he should trust. Something in his eyes that told him he should listen to him and after all he wasn't saying anything Sid didn't know. It was true that he was nasty to people, particularly Darren. It wouldn't cost him anything to be bit nicer.

"Darren is such a good guy, so clever and strong, much cleverer and stronger than you are. You must listen to what Darren tells you, do what Darren tells you"

Sid wanted to protest. There was no way his eight-stone, puny brother was stronger than he was. That was total bollocks. The man might be right that he was cleverer, though he had no certificates to prove it. But stronger...the man was talking crap.

"Fuck off mate. You don't know my brother. My bro's as weak as a fucking pup and I'm fucking Mister Atlas. I'll fucking arm-wrestle you to show you how strong I am."

Martin smiled Sid was very predictable and easy to manipulate mentally. All he had to do was to present him with pairs of ideas and, being too thick to think about two things at the same time, he'd object to one while meekly accepting the other.

"You admire Darren. Darren is clever and strong. Darren is so hot. Darren is so sexy. You envy Darren his strength and his good looks. You are jealous of his intelligence. You must listen to what Darren tells you, do what Darren tells you"

Well that was shit. OK Darren was a clever bastard, and true his slight frame concealed great physical strength but no one would ever describe the spotty little twat as good looking or sexy. His acne-scarred face and thick spectacles would make any girl run a mile.

"Darren is so cool. You wish you could be as clever, strong and good-looking as he is. You must listen to what Darren tells you, do what Darren tells you"

The constant repetition was gradually reversing pretty well every opinion Sid held about his brother... overturning years of accumulated experience. One by one Sid accepted the points Martin was making, first that Darren was clever, second that he was strong, third that he was good-looking and finally that he should defer to him.

By the time Martin left the pub Sid was a changed man.

He himself left a few minutes later, desperate for his brother's company. On the way home he stopped to buy some fags and cider for Darren, just to show him how much he cared for him and how much he admired him.

Darren gulped nervously as Sid entered their home. The parole officer had said he was going to break Sid but he had no idea what that meant and as yet he had received no orders. Fortunately Sid clearly had no idea about what was in store for him. Instead he was abnormally pleasant. For the first time Darren could remember he had bought him some smokes and booze and he didn't even complain when his brother insisted on watching a TV programme he had always hated.

It was natural, Sid thought, that he and Darren would have different tastes when it came to television. Darren was clever, while he was not. He was so strong and good looking. It was no surprise that he liked to watch an intelligent programme like "All-Star Wrestling". Sid sat in an armchair making no attempt to force Darren to give up the sofa as he would normally have done, and when they went to bed he even allowed his brother to use the bathroom first, something that had never happened before.

At precisely noon the following day the Martin's phone rang. He smiled as he picked it up and listened to Darren's puzzled voice. The boy described his elder brother's docile behavior the previous evening in a matter of fact way and then paused, awaiting his instructions. So that there could be no misunderstanding he repeated the orders twice making sure the boy understood what had to be done.

Darren walked purposefully into the living room where Sid was lounging. He had no idea how Sid would react when he began to order him about, his instructions were clear though, and even if it meant a beating at his brother's hands he had no choice but to follow them. "Get up" he said "we're going out".

For a second or two Sid looked surprised, then without saying a word he rose to his feet and docilely followed Darren out of the house. He asked no questions either as Darren led him to Rajal's store nor did he complain when his brother ordered him to buy half a dozen flagons of cider and a couple of packets of cigarettes.

Sid did find it odd though when Darren also made him purchase a couple of magazines from the shop. Neither boy could read very well, so generally the steered clear of all printed material. Sid could just about have understood Darren's decision if he had wanted to buy a copy of Penthouse or Playboy but instead his brother had chosen a magazine called "Teen-Star", clearly aimed at adolescent girls. Darren didn't really understand why he'd done it either, but that's what he had been told to do so he did it. If it helped solve his family problems it had to be a good thing.

Sid blushed as he paid Mr. Rajal for the magazine, but the old man hardly noticed what he was buying. His eyes were staring at Sid's former gang mate, Ricky, as he tidied up around the shop. Sid didn't stop to acknowledge Ricky. In fact he wasn't even sure the heavily made-up mini-skirt wearing shop assistant was Ricky, it looked more like some tart from the council estate.

He hurried from the shop and followed Darren to the local park. There was nothing odd in that. They often hung out in the park, drinking, smoking and taunting the homeless winos who tended to congregate there. If that bored them the park had plenty of other entertainment to offer, small kids to frighten in the playground, and seedy homos to beat up in the toilets.

Darren led Sid to a little used corner of the park and told him to sit on a bench. "I have to go somewhere for a few hours. You stay here and drink and smoke a bit. Be nice to people though...no fighting. If you get angry just read your magazine and jack off. It will get the violence out of your system."

Darren didn't go far. He retreated into the trees so that he could watch Sid, after all he would have to report everything back to Martin. For almost an hour nothing much happened. Sid took an occasional swig of cider and smoked the odd fag. Out of sheer boredom he eventually picked up the magazine and flicked through it.

He still couldn't understand why Darren had told him to buy "Teen-Star" but his brother was clever and must have his reasons. The magazine though seemed to consist of little more than pin ups of pop-stars, and not even the one's whose music he liked. The boys pictured were all of the long-haired, doe eyed variety that seemed to appeal to young girls.

It was while he was examining a picture of a shirtless and particularly scrawny boy that the voice cut across his thoughts.

"Hey buddy, can you spare me a smoke"

Sid looked up to see the figure of an elderly homeless man. The guy's blotchy face gave him away as a hopeless alcoholic and his filthy clothes probably hadn't been washed for weeks or even months. Normally such a man would have received nothing from Sid other than a well aimed Doc Martin and a stream of abuse. Today though, Darren had told him to be nice to people. He reached into his fag packet and threw the man a cigarette.

Sid hoped the old tramp would go away but he wasn't going to be that lucky. The man had spotted the Skinhead's cider and encouraged by his generosity he sat next him and attempted to wheedle a drink from him. Sid wrinkled his nose at the rank stink of the wino's body. He felt uncomfortable with the man sitting next to him. Yet when the man asked he passed him his cider bottle and watched as he drank from it. And boy could the man drink. He upended the bottle and opened his throat. A full pint of cider must have disappeared into his mouth with out him so much as gulping. When the bottle was empty he put it down and let out a contented belch.

Sid was enraged. The man was taking the piss. Taking a gulp from someone else's drink was fine. Finishing off the whole bottle was a shocking thing to do. He felt his anger well up inside him and his fists tightened ready to punch the man. He wanted to beat the selfish bastard into a pulp.

Then he remembered he wasn't allowed to be angry. Darren had forbidden it. Luckily his clever, younger brother had told him how to control his rage. If only he could remember what he was supposed to do. He looked around and saw the magazine lying on the bench beside him. That was it, if he was angry he was meant to look at Teen-Star and beat off. He picked it up and again stared at the scrawny singer. The boy looked no more attractive than he had before but for some reason Sid discovered his dick was getting hard.

Without thinking he did what he had been told to do and unzipped his flies. He fished out his dick and, still staring at the pin-up began to jack off. The tramp was astonished. He couldn't believe that the Skinhead was wanking in front of him, more than that he was wanking while looking at a picture of some skinny teenager.

The tramp wasn't sure how to respond. He'd better not touch the boy that might spell trouble but there was nothing to stop him jacking himself off. He opened his trousers and was soon beating his meat in time with Sid.

Sid was glad Darren had taught him how to control his anger. If he hadn't, he was certain he would have assaulted the filthy pervert sitting next to him. There was no reason to do that. After all, the guy wasn't harming anyone.

The lack on any protest from Sid made the tramp bolder. "Nice looking kid" he whispered in Sid's ear "I'd like to fuck the arse off him." Despite the fact that he was jacking off Sid hadn't really been thinking of the pop singer in a sexual way. He was only looking at Teen-Star because Darren had told him to. The tramp's suggestion was disgusting, outrageous and, just slightly, hot.

"Imagine shoving your dick up his tight little hole and fucking it black and blue...nice lips too. I bet he gives a wicked blow-job"

Sid looked at the boy's mouth. It would be sort of nice to fuck it. After all a mouth was a mouth. It didn't really matter if it was a boy's or a girl's. A blow job would be pretty much the same from either.

It was while he was thinking that the Sid felt a pair of wet slobbery lips closing around his dick. The tramp had leaned over into his lap and was beginning to suck him. He closed his eyes. After all, he had just told himself that a blow job was a blow job no matter who was giving it.

The wino couldn't believe his luck. It was years, decades even, since he had any kind of sex with anyone. He had certainly never dreamed that he would ever again taste a hard teenage dick. Yet here he was in the park, in the middle of the afternoon sucking off a handsome muscular skinhead.

Darren watched in disgust. He couldn't believe that his pansy brother was letting some smelly pensioner have sex with him. He had been so wrong about Sid. He had thought of his brother as being tough and hard but actually he was as soft as marshmallow, a real pansy and a twat. The parole officer was right. He deserved to be broken and humiliated.

Sid shifted uncomfortably. The tough bristles of the tramp's beard tickled and irritated his ball sack. The tongue licking at his dick felt good though and the way the tramp's warm spit washed around his cock was nice. He tried to imagine his girlfriend doing this to him but found it difficult to dislodge the picture of the scrawny singer from his mind He would imagine Angela's mouth hanging off his dick for a few seconds but then the image would quickly dissolve into the face of the doe-eyed pop-idol. What did it matter? A mouth was mouth.

The tramp could tell that Sid was close to coming from the volume of pre-cum he was producing. It would be so good to taste teenage spunk again after so many years. He quickened the pace at which he was sucking the boy and began to beat his own meat harder. The Skinhead's dick began to quiver and pulse and he felt the cum rising in his own balls. Sid let out a long sigh and started to shoot into the old man's mouth while simultaneously the tramp's seed was discharged into the gravel path.

God that felt good, the boy's cum tasted so nice. He just hoped this wasn't a one-off, that he would have more opportunities to play with the guy. That wasn't going to happen straight away though. He could tell that from the angry glare the skinhead was giving him. Quickly the tramp got up and shuffled away.

"All right Broth?" Darren asked nonchalantly as he approached the park bench. He had given Sid a few minutes to recover from his experience with the wino and while his elder brother still looked flustered he acted fairly normally as they walked home.

He bought some more booze and fags for Darren and when they got back to the house he went straight to his room. Not that bothered Darren. He wasn't sure he wanted to hang out with his fag brother, not after seeing what he had let the tramp do to him.

Sid shut his bedroom door behind him. What the fuck had just happened? What the fuck had he let happen to him? He threw up in the bin as he remembered the smelly old man sucking him. It was horrible and yet he had done nothing to stop it from happening. It was ridiculous. He was 100% straight. He hated homos almost as much as he hated the Blacks and yet for some reason he had allowed himself to be sucked off.

He burrowed under his bed to retrieve his stack of Playboy and penthouse magazines. He needed a good, straight heterosexual wank to set his mind at ease. Sid spread a selection of his favourite centre-folds across his bed and, dropping his trousers, he stood over them with his dick in his hands. He stared down at the big breasted women with their cheesy smiles and air-brushed fannies. He massaged his cock but for some reason it remained soft failing to harden even with the aid of the beautiful Eva, Leticia and Lisa.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the copy of Teen-Star lying on the floor where had thrown it. He picked it up and placed the picture of the shirtless singer next to the porn. He tried to imagine the star enjoying a foursome with the porn models. That was better. His dick began to stir a bit as he imagined Eva sucking on the star's dick while Leticia and Lisa nibbled his nipples. Soon he managed to reach full hardness and came over the porn pictures spread in front of him. He didn't notice that he had hardly looked at the girls during his wank, his eyes remaining firmly nailed to the picture of the young singer.

Sid slept late the following day and Darren had already made his mid-day phone call by the time he wakened his brother. As he entered Sid's room he noticed some subtle changes. Among the Nazi and Northern Soul posters on the wall Sid had pinned up some of the pictures from "Teen-Star" and instead of just throwing his clothes into the corner he had folded them and stacked them neatly on the chair.

"Wake up sleepy head, time to get up!" Darren shouted cheerily, briskly opening the curtains, Normally Sid would have thumped Darren for disturbing his sleep but today he just smiled, got up and headed for the bathroom.

It usually only took Sid a few minutes to get ready to go out, a quick shit and a shave was all it took but today as he tuned to shut the door he saw his brother staring at him.

"You are a fucking mess. Why can't you take care of yourself properly, Sid" Darren said sadly. "You'll never be anything special but if you made the effort you could look all right."

Sid was devastated. The fact that he had a girlfriend, while no girl would look at Darren didn't occur to him. As far as he was concerned he had just been told by his spunky teen-idol brother that he looked like shit. He needed to change that.

He took his time making sure every part of his body was clean, he even put on a little after-shave, a present from his mother that he normally considered faggish. If he was going out with his brother he wanted to look his best. He'd never appear as handsome and impressive as Darren of course but he did everything he could to avoid letting him down.

Once more they bought cider and cigarettes in Rajal's but this time Darren let him choose his own magazine. Sid chose a DC comic. It would be slightly less embarrassing to be seen reading "The Adventures of Superboy" than one of the many girls' magazines that were on offer.

The comic was actually quite entertaining. The story was gripping enough that when Darren left him alone on the park bench Sid made the effort to read it. It wasn't easy.
He had to follow the words with his finger and he couldn't work out what some of the longer ones were, but he managed get the gist of it and he became enthralled as he read of the way Superboy and Krypto battled crime.

So engaged was he that he didn't notice as the tramp approached the bench. This time the wino wasn't alone. In front of him he pushed a man in a wheelchair who was, unlike him, immaculately dressed and wore a row of medals on his chest.

Alf and Ernie were proof positive that friendships forged in war never grow cold. The two men's lives had been very different since they had fought together on Juno beach. Alf had never really adapted to civilian life, he had spiraled down into the chaos of alcoholism and homelessness, unkempt, uncared for and unloved. The only friend he had really was Ernie. Ernie had tried hard too help him over the years, remembering that it was Alf who had risked his life to get him to the medics after his legs had been blown off in the chaos of D-day.

While the able-bodied Alf had made a mess of his life Ernie had been lucky. He had married a woman prepared to ignore his disability and had even fathered a couple of children. When his wife died though, his self-centered kids had quickly shunted him off into a Veteran's home, pocketing the proceeds from the sale of his house. His son and daughter seldom visited, indeed his only regular visitor was Alf, and while the care home staff disapproved of the stinking, often drunk, tramp, they tolerated him.

If it wasn't for Alf, Ernie would probably never leave the home, but when the tramp was sober he was allowed to push Ernie to the park, so that they could sit together and reminisce about their army days. Ernie hadn't believed Alf when he told him he had given some teenager a blow job. He guessed that it was just a drink-fuelled fantasy. The story didn't particularly interest him either. He didn't really care that Alf was a queer but he certainly had no interest in that sort of sex himself.

He hadn't resisted though when Alf insisted that they go to the far end of the park to see if the boy was there. Seeing the various parts of the park was nice, and if it took a fantasy to persuade Alf to give him a grand tour well, so be it.

"There he is" Alf whispered, "that's him sitting on the bench reading a comic...here let's talk to him."

Ernie wasn't given a chance to disagree as Alf pushed him towards the boy.

"Hello again... it's nice to see you." Alf's greeting attracted a worried glance from Sid. He had hoped the tramp wouldn't show up today. He certainly didn't want a repeat of yesterday's performance. Luckily the wino had someone else with him so Sid assumed he was safe.

The tramp sat next to him and, without asking permission, helped him self to a cigarette and a swig of cider. "This is Ernie" he said nodding at the man in the wheelchair "I'm Alf by the way...you didn't tell me your name."

"Sid" the skinhead found himself saying reaching out to shake the tramp's hand "I'm Sid. I'm pleased to meet you". Sid had never been so polite in his life but Darren had told him to be nice to people and so he was. He did shuffle along the bench a little though as the stench from Alf's body made him feel slightly sick.

"Ernie doesn't believe you let me me suck you off yesterday...tell him what we did."

Sid turned scarlet at Alf's blunt request. He wasn't sure how to reply but he didn't want to make Alf look like a liar to his friend. That would be a nasty thing to do and he wanted to be nice. Besides it was better to tell the truth than to lie.

"Um...yes" he mumbled "he sucked me off...I was being a bit stupid really. I was probably a bit drunk...or something. I'm not a gueer or anything. I have got a girlfriend."

Ernie was astonished. He had no illusions about how dirty and decrepit his friend was, that a strapping young lad like Sid would have sex with him was almost unbelievable. He had never fancied other men himself, but Ernie found himself wondering if the boy was as willing to suck as he was to be sucked. He was a good looking lad and his skin was smooth and flawless, almost like a woman's. After so many years without sex it would be wonderful to feel the warm sensation of a mouth on his dick one last time.

There was no way he would ever broach the subject though, it was just too ridiculous, too embarrassing. Luckily for him Alf knew how his friend's mind worked and was more than happy to try and engineer a sexual encounter.

"Ernie's a war-hero. He lost his legs on D-day" Alf said "fighting for freedom, so that you, and boys like you, could grow up in a free country."

"I guess" Sid mumbled.

"The thing is there's no gratitude. Your generation is all just take, take, take. You won't even wear a poppy for Remembrance Sunday. Ernie's kids just shoved him in a home and forgot about him and I bet you're the same."

Sid felt guilty. It was true. He had always ignored the poppy sellers and he regarded veterans as pompous old farts. He had never really thought about the sacrifices they had made. It upset him that Alf was so angry.

"I'm sorry" he said "I guess we're too busy leading our own lives. If there's anything I can do..."

"Your generation should get down on your knees and thank us Veterans for what we did for you"

Sid took the instruction literally. He dropped to his knees in front of the wheelchair bound man and whispered a quiet thank you. "If there's anything I can do for you, Sir, please ask"

Ernie wasn't quite sure what to say. Instead he unbelted his smart grey trousers, unzipped his flies and pulled out his rapidly hardening five-inch dick. Sid knew what was expected of him but wasn't sure he was prepared to do that. Of course it was right to thank the heroes of World War 2 but did he really have to suck dick to show how grateful he was?

"Don't disappoint him" Alf said "remember he gave his legs for you, he only wants to borrow your mouth for a few minutes." It was a fair point. Sid leaned forward and held onto the arms of the wheelchair so that he could lower his head steadily into the cripple's lap.

When his mouth was an inch or so from the head of Ernie's dick he breathed in deeply through his nose. The man just smelt of carbolic soap, he didn't stink like Alf. Sucking a clean, well washed dick shouldn't be a problem.

He took about an inch of the dick into his mouth and, remembering what Alf had done to him yesterday he used his tongue to lick around the Ernie's cock head and tickle the slit where his piss came out. It wasn't too bad. He could manage this. Slowly he pushed his head further down the old man's shaft, sucking and licking as he went.

Alf took another swig of cider. His life would have worked out all right if all young people were as respectful and obedient as Sid. This was how D-day veterans should have been treated, with admiration and veneration. People should have been falling over themselves to show their gratitude, willing to give the Vets whatever they wanted. They should have been like this straight, strong skinhead willing to offer his mouth as a tribute to their heroism. He had been wrong to be grateful to Sid for allowing him to suck him. It was his right. He had earned it.

And if he wanted the boy's arse he should have that too. It looked so cute in his tight jeans, bobbing up and down as the boy serviced Ernie's dick. It was obviously strong and muscular and would grip his dick tightly if he fucked it. And why shouldn't he? He was a fucking war-hero after all.

Not here though. It wouldn't be safe here. Maybe the boy had somewhere they could go, or maybe they could smuggle him in to Ernie's room in the care home. That would depend of course on how much Ernie enjoyed this...and so far the signs were good.

The crippled man had an expression of deep bliss on his face as Sid serviced his dick. Everything the boy did seemed to drive him up another level. The boy licked and sucked at his dick, then his ball sack, he even pulled his trousers down so that he could kiss and worship the stumps of his legs. Ernie hadn't felt this good for a very long time. He felt a real man again having this fit young boy kneeling in front of him, trying everything just to pleasure him. Okay, it was a man not a woman doing this but who cared? He was young and whole... that was what counted.

He stroked the boy's smooth shaved head. He would be nicer with long hair. He must tell him that before the next time. And as Ernie shot there was no doubt in his mind that there would be a next time. The boy's mouth had brought him back to life, had made feel young and vibrant again. There was no way he was giving this up.

Darren let his brother walk home alone that night. On the way he stopped at Rajal's shop to look at the magazines. What he was looking for wasn't there though. There were plenty of nags with pictures of large-breasted girls, plenty too showing adolescent male pop-stars, but none with the pictures he really wanted. In the end he settled on a copy of "British Legion News". The men in the pictures were all fully clothed, of course, but they were genuine war heroes and they were real men not mere boys. That night he wanked himself crazy over them, reaching the best climax he had ever had while looking at a picture of an ancient veteran of the First World War.

Sid was disappointed when Darren didn't take him to the park the next day. He didn't argue though, he was sure his younger brother knew what was best for him. He handed his wallet over to Darren and followed him meekly around a series of clothes shops. He hated the clothes his brother chose for him but guessed that there must be a reason that he needed them. Quite why he would need to wear a conservative pinstripe suit, a white shirt and old fashioned striped tie he wasn't sure, anymore than he knew why he required black patent leather shoes and silk underwear. It was only when Darren spelt it out for him at home that it made sense. It was all perfectly logical.

Sid sat down carefully in his new clothes when he was summoned. He didn't want to get any creases in his new suit. Even though he had engineered it, Darren was amazed at the transformation. Sid no longer looked like a swaggering bully he was more like a timid bank clerk or nervous bridegroom.

"I've noticed what you've been up to in the park over the last few days..." Darren started ignoring the panicked expression on his brother's face. "Of course I'm not into sex with guys myself, but you obviously are. So you should dress to please them. Guy's that age don't like modern fashions. The like well dressed respectable looking young men. You'll appeal to them much more dressed like that"

Sid spluttered, trying to think of what to say. Sure he had had sex with the two men but that didn't mean he was queer. He was only trying to be nice, as Darren had told him to be. He still loved women. Eventually he managed to stutter a few word "I'm not...you know... a pouf"

"No of course you're not" Darren answered sarcastically "obviously your really hate blow-jobs and would never wank over pictures of teenage pop-stars or old soldiers. Listen brother, you are what you are. I'm just trying to make you happy."

Sid turned bright red. He was lucky Darren was so tolerant. Most teenage boys would go crazy if the learned their brothers were queer but not Darren, he was too sensible and intelligent for that.

"I'm just trying to make sure your new friends don't go off you. I don't want you breaking your heart, brother. I want you to dress and act in a way that will please them. Now the other problem you have is your arse. Sooner or later one or other of your friends is going to want to fuck you and it's going to be awfully difficult for an old man to pierce a hole that's still as tight as yours must be. You need to loosen it up, brother. Have you got any ideas how you might do that?"

Sid mulled it over. He was so fortunate to have a brother like Darren who thought ahead, who could foresee problems before they arose. Maybe Darren could help loosen his arse. After all he was young, his dick would still be as strong as iron...able to push its way into any hole, however tight.

Sid mumbled his suggestion and Darren broke into a huge smile. "You want me to fuck you brother? You want my big straight dick up you horny queer arse? You want you're little brother to take your virginity?"

Sid just nodded, embarrassed and ashamed. He didn't really want his brother to screw him, but somehow he needed to loosen up his arse for his friends and this was the only way he could think to do it.

Sid folded his clothes carefully as he undressed and then stood naked in the middle of the room. Darren had made no attempt to remove his own clothes he was determined to take his time over this.

"You have a nice body" he remarked, casting his eye's over Sid's muscular frame you need to take better care of it though. Get rid of this next time you bathe." Darren tugged at his brothers pubes. "You've got things the wrong way round brother, shaving your head and not your body. It's your body than needs to be smooth not your scalp"

Sid blushed at Darren's words. He was so grateful for his brother's wise advice. He made a mental note to shave his body the next time he bathed.

"Now touch your toes so as I can look at that problem arse of yours...that's right....god that does look tight...no old man would be able to push his way in there. It's a good thing you asked for my help, brother."

Darren picked up a small vibrator he had bought that afternoon. He greased it carefully and after switching it on slowly pushed it into Sid's hole. The pain Sid felt was slightly offset by the strange buzzing sensation the vibrator induced. It wasn't particularly pleasant or unpleasant, just odd. Darren wiggled the vibrator around inside his arse until Sid audible gasp told him that he had discovered his prostrate. The parole officer had told him how to do this but he was still a bit surprised to find that there really was a pleasure-giving gland buried inside men's arses.

The expression of delight on Sid's sweating face couldn't be gainsaid though. There was a deep joy in his eyes...and a smile playing on his lips. His sphincter began to flex, almost as if it was trying to pull the vibrator further inside him and he let out a series of low groans. Following Martin's orders Darren picked up the copy of "British Legion News" and placed it on the floor in front of Sid's eyes. As the waves of pleasure swept through his body Sid stared at the pictures of old soldiers. The connection his mind had already made between war heroes and sexual pleasure grew stronger as the minutes past. Finally without him even touching it his dick blew a large wad of sticky cum splattering the face of a retired General.

Darren giggled, amazes that a small buzzing bit if plastic could bring his brother to climax. He pulled the vibrator from Sid's arse and told him to stand up straight. "Undress me" he ordered.

Sid knelt in front of him and at his command kissed each of his Doc Martin's before removing them. Using his teeth he pulled off Darren's smelly smocks. It was a bit demeaning to be made to sniff them but Darren must have his reasons for asking him to do that. Sid knew he would never do anything to deliberately humiliate his brother. He licked Darren's feet clean and then stood up to unbutton his shirt.

He stood almost a foot taller than Darren but Sid new that his apparent strength was illusory. His kid brother could beat him in a fight any time. Not that he wanted to fight Darren. All he wanted to do was to bend down and kiss his sweet chest and then unbutton his jeans so as his cute dick was free to fuck him. So that's what he did.

He smiled as Darren's cock bounced free from the denim that had been constricting it. Sid hadn't been sure that Darren would be able to get hard for him. He was straight after all, not a queer like Sid. It was so hot seeing his straight brother hard, willing to use his real-man's dick to open his own fag-boy arse.

He quickly dropped to the floor and offered his arse upwards. He didn't want to give Darren a chance to change his mind or go soft. He waited for a few seconds and sighed with relief as he finally felt his brother's hard organ slip inside him. The vibrator had done its work and Darren entered easily. He gasped as he felt Sid's ring tighten around his dick. This was so hot, seeing his bullying brother humbled and impaled on his dick. Slowly he began to fuck him, thrusting steadily in and out of his arse.

"Does that feel good, brother? I bet you love that feeling...having you arse used by a man...feeling a hard dick fucking it. It's what it was made for, brother. When I'm finished it will be good and ready for any dick that wants to take it. That's what you want...isn't it?"

"God...yes. Open me up well, brother, fuck me hard and long so that I am ready. Please, brother"

Sid matched his rhythm to Darren's so that he could feel the maximum impact of his dick. It plunged deep into him...every thrust adding to Sid's conviction that this was what he really wanted...that this is what he really was...a devoted cock slave.

By the time Darren had come, Sid had lost control. He was yowling and howling like a bitch on heat, desperate to feel his brother's spunk in his arse. It was the only medicine that could cool the aching need his arse had...the desperate desire to be screwed.

Alf and Ernie almost didn't recognize the smart young man waiting for them on the park bench. They were disappointed when Sid hadn't shown the previous day and half-feared they wouldn't see him again.

The men's concern turned to pleasure when they found out how Sid had spent the previous day. He looked so much nicer, and even hotter now that he had taken the care to dress properly and somehow he seemed more polite, and less reluctant.

"Would you like me to suck you off?" he inquired of Ernie politely. Alf noticed that there was a huge lump in the boy's trousers as he asked the question. He had obviously been fantasizing about sex before they arrived. He would have to wait a little longer though. The two veterans had hatched a plan to smuggle Sid into Ernie's room where they would be safer and more comfortable. Now was as good a time as any to try it out.

The care-home staff normally hardly noticed as Alf wheeled Ernie towards his room. Visitors were allowed in the afternoon and they had grown used to Ernie's smelly friend. Sid's presence raised a few more eyebrows. Other than Alf, Ernie seldom had visitors. The boy was respectably dressed and polite though and the nurses just assumed that he was a relative of one or other of the old men.

Sid's eyes were like saucers as he walked through the sitting room where the home's residents spent their days. This place was like heaven...there were so many hot guys there, just sitting around waiting to have their cocks sucked. The smell of boiled cabbage and piss didn't put him off. In fact it did rather the opposite. It was the smell of old age and as far as Sid was concerned, the older the better.

He could barely contain his excitement and when they reached Ernie's room his dick was the hardest it had ever been and already leaking pre-cum. He was desperate for sex but too polite to make the first move. It was so arousing though. As he lifted Ernie out of his wheelchair and onto his bed he desperately wanted to duck down and take the man's hot dick in his mouth.

It was left to Alf to make the first move. The tramp sat next to Ernie on the bed and casually produced his cock from his fly.

"Is this what you want, boy...is this what you've been waiting for?"

Sid turned bright red. "Yes, sir....if you'd allow me. I would really like that...I would really like to suck your dick, sir"

Alf laughed and turned to his friend. "This boy is something else. He's such a find imagine a teenage kid wanting to suck off my rancid old dick...here show him yours Ernie"

Ernie fumbled at his trousers and fished out his own cock. It was more than Sid could take. He fell to his knees and hungrily began to service the two old men with his mouth and hands.

He loved the contrasting tastes of the two dicks, the clean carbolic flavour of Ernie's cock and the rank sweaty taste of Alf's. He alternated between the two, making sure that each man got an equal share of his mouth He used one of his hands to pleasure whichever dick he wasn't sucking and the other to rub his own cock through his trousers. He would have liked to free up his own dick, but it would be rude to do that without permission so he desperately stroked it as best he could through the material of his suit.

The two old men didn't speak much as the boy sucked and licked them. Alf was in heaven of course, but he didn't want to say too much. Ernie's eyes were closed and Alf knew that his straight friend would be imagining that it was some hot girl who was giving him the blow job. He didn't want to upset the illusion by speaking. In the end it was Ernie's words which took them to the next level.

"You know what I really miss, Alf. I miss fucking. I haven't had a fuck since my old woman died. I'd really love to feel my dick inside someone again. Do you think your boy would like that?"

It was a mark of how far Sid had fallen that the two men discussed him in the third person, almost as if he wasn't really there. Alf certainly didn't bother consulting him before answering. Since it was he who had discovered Sid he thought of him almost as his property his to do with as he wished, to be used, loaned out and played with as he saw fit.

"I'm sure he'll be happy to help out a war-hero, but if you don't mind me being personal, Ernie, I mean how do you... you know...do it ...without any legs?"

Ernie laughed, it taken him and his wife a few months to work out how to make love but having cracked the secret they had enjoyed a happy and full sex life. "Here I'll show you. Sid, take my clothes off...and lift me to the edge the bed."

Sid's arse was itching at the prospect of a good fucking and he eagerly took off Ernie's clothes to reveal his wrinkled, shrunken body. He lifted him and placed him on the side of the bed with the stumps of his legs hanging over the side of the mattress.

"The boy will have to do the work of course" Ernie said. He needs to lower his arse into my dick and we'll take it from there.

Alf ogled Sid's body as the ex-skinhead undressed. It was magnificent, with a washboard stomach, a broad well muscled chest and bulging biceps. Any queer in his right mind would have given his eye-teeth to have sex with Sid and yet here he was choosing to offer himself to two decrepit men old enough to be his grand or even great grandfather.

Sid lowered his smooth, shaved arse towards Ernie's stiff prick. It slid into him easily, he was grateful to Darren for that and he took care that his legs bore all his body weight not wishing to crush the frail, disabled man beneath him.

"That's it...slide it all the way until you feel my pubes brushing against your arse...good...now push yourself back up until there's only my head left inside...mmm...that's it...now slide back down...."

Alf wanked himself as he watched Sid's impressive body rising and falling on his friend's dick...it was like watching a giant being fucked by a dwarf he thought. He would have liked to have taken Sid's dick in his mouth but he feared that any interference might upset the boy's careful, caring maneuvers.

The boy's face was a picture of concentration as he calibrated his movements, making sure Ernie's dick penetrated as far as possible on his downward stroke and that it didn't slip out as he pushed himself upwards. He could tell from Ernie's heavy breathing that he was enjoying this and that made Sid feel proud. Nothing was too good for a war hero and it was an honour to give such a man pleasure as he neared the end of his life. His own dick twitched and jumped about as he tried to imagine what Ernie's cock looked like as it pierced his arse.

A man of Ernie's age wasn't going to come quickly, and that suited Sid just fine. He would happily spend the rest of his life this. The three men failed to notice though how time was passing and they froze when suddenly there was knock on the door.

"Tea, Ernie?" a polite male voice inquired, rattling the door handle. Luckily Alf had locked the door, something that was, strictly speaking, against the rules. Had he not the care assistant would have opened the door to see a handsome muscular skinhead being screwed by an ancient paraplegic...as it was Ernie had some quick thinking to do. "It's OK Kevin" he called out we're busy at the moment "I'm just filling in my nephew about something."

Alf giggled at Ernie's unintended joke as they listened to the tea trolley rattling away. "Actually Alf if you hadn't locked the door he might well have joined in" Ernie joked "he's as queer as a coot is young Kevin."

As Sid resumed his delicate movements, his mind worked feverishly. He imagined what it would be like to be in Kevin's position, to have all these heroes available serving them, not just sexually, but in every other way as well. He imagined bringing the tea and serving the food as well as sucking their dicks and getting fucked by them. Some of the men were obviously senile so he wouldn't even have to ask their permission before using their dicks and tasting their hot spunk.

The thought drove Sid wild, while still taking care not to hurt Ernie he began to move faster and faster, jacking on his own dick as he did so. He tried to keep as quiet as he could but it was difficult given the amount of pleasure he was in. He desperately wanted to scream, to let the world know how privileged he was to have a war veteran screwing him.

There was no way even an ancient dick like Ernie's could withstand such stimulation for long, he felt his cum gathering itself together in his balls preparing to be shot out through his throbbing dick. He reached up with hands to hold on to Sid's shoulders and he held him still as soon as his cock was fully inside him. Sid could feel the old man's cock spurting inside and with a few flicks of his wrist brought himself to climax, matching the old man's orgasm spurt for spurt.

Sid had been concentrating so hard on pleasing Ernie that he'd paid little attention to what Alf had been doing. The old tramp had been watching intently, wanking but taking care not to come himself. As he watched Ernie's dick slipping out of Sid's arse he stood up. Already naked, he stood up. "Lick my body clean" he ordered.

Sid hadn't washed for weeks if not months and his body reeked of stale sweat, booze and cigarette smoke. The revolting combination tasted delicious to Sid though as he set about his task with relish. One by one he sucked the old man's cheesy toes licking and kissing each one before moving on to the rest of his body. It was all heavenly but Sid particularly enjoyed burying his face in Alf's hairy pits breathing the heady aroma as he teased his body hair with his tongue.

Alf's arse was even sweeter...the mix of stale sweat and shit tasted like nectar and Sid licked and sucked to make sure he devoured every atom of the man's aroma. Already cleaned by his previous efforts Alf's dick was a bit of disappointment. He took his time there anyway though, as dick-sucking was fun in itself, knowing the feelings of pleasure you were giving the recipient.

Eventually Alf was ready to fuck him. He told him to kneel if front of Ernie's wheelchair and pushed his head down into the seat so that he could smell the aroma of leather mixed with Ernie's sweat. With the paraplegic's spunk already lubricating Sid's arse he had no trouble entering him. His hole was so soft warm and welcoming.

Alf was enjoying himself and determined to take his time. He took a swig of cider and lit a cigarette as he slowly continued screwing. Unable to see an ashtray he told Sid to open his mouth and used it as a receptacle for his fag ash. As soon as he had finished it he spat on it to put it out and shoved the butt end into Sid's mouth. It was so much fun that he immediately lit up another smoke.

Twenty minutes and five cigarettes later Sid was groaning in ecstasy. Alf's slow rhythmic screwing felt like nothing else on earth...the acrid taste of the fag-butts in his mouth only served to make him even hornier. He hardly listened to the two old men's conversation, concentrating instead on flexing his ring to pleasure Alf.

"Are you going to keep him Alf? It would be a shame to let him go when he can keep us both happy?"

"I don't know what to do really. I mean he'd soon grow scruffy and stale if he lived in the park with me...and he looks so nice when he's washed and well-dressed."

"There's always another option. You could make him get a job or something that would bring you in enough to rent a bed-sit or something. Then you'd have a place to live and we'd both have somewhere private where we could fuck him."

"That's a thought" Alf replied "are there any jobs going at the Home?"

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