Redneck Magic

By S. Q. Neemie -
published March 6, 2020
4765 words

Sparky is irritated that his cousin Cletus is pussy-whipped by his girlfriend, so he asks the family witch for a potion to help Cletus man up.

So my cousin Cletus got this girl he sees who says he ain’t cultured enough. “You’re a fucking redneck, Cletus Sayres," she says, even when the whole clan is together and watching ball on the set. She says it right in front of his pa and brothers and cousins and uncles, like it ain’t gonna shame him–or maybe she don’t care none about Cletus’s pride. “You ain’t never even been to a museum, I bet, or tried some food that weren’t fried beforehand,” she says.

Cletus’s girl likes to think she’s the shit coz she eats them Buddha bowls they sell at the mall, like she’s some yoga master or fuck-all just coz she ate a bean from Asia once. Cletus is one fucking bear of a man and he can press his own weight in the gym, but he’s pussy-whipped for sure. He gets all hangdog around his girl when she’s pissed and says ya and naw to whatever she says instead of standing up for hisself. Pa says the Cletus side of the family got something wrong with their balls that they let their women run roughshod all over them, but I checked out Cletus’s set once when he came to breakfast in just his droopy whities, and they look all right by me.

I guess it were one of them metaphors, though, that stuff about Cletus’s balls I mean, coz it ain’t like Cletus’s girl complains about him splittin her in half on the regular, nor gettin all that Sayres bull snot shot up inside her snatch when she’s beggin for it. Naw, she likes him being a wild hairy fucker just fine ‘cept she wants him tame sometimes too, which to me says she don’t got no understanding of what she’s got and she’s just a stupid woman anyhow.

Pa says I’m sweet on my cousin Cletus and I’m a fucking unnatural, but he says it in fun and I don’t care if he teases me. Cletus is the coolest sonofabitch in the whole Sayres clan, and it makes me sick in my gullet thinking of that pair of tits leading him around on a leash. Cletus was the one who taught me how to dip and spit, and he can throw a football with just the right spin that makes it real easy to catch. He even caught me jerkin it once in our shed and he didn’t say nothin to my Pa about it, nor tease me about it neither, except to say he guessed I was a man now and he was glad I was progressin’ normal like a Sayres man should.

My brother Billie Joe thinks Cletus is the shit too, but he says it’ll all change once that girl of his gets knocked up and starts squirting out more Sayres babies into the world. “Then she’ll own him for life,” says Billie Joe, “and the rest of us will have to hear that fucking screech-owl voice of hers going CLEE-tus! CLEE-tus! day in and out.” Billie Joe’s nineteen and he’s dipped his dick into a few girls but says he’s saving hisself for someone with the right size tits. He also says he’s worried his eighteen-year-old brother, which is me (Ma says she ain’t never stopped being pregnant while she was having babies, so all us kids are close in age) ain’t never been with a girl like that. I don’t care tho–I ain’t worried about it for myself, and there ain’t no pretty girls in this town anyhow, just sluts and harpies like Cletus’s girl. Sometimes I think I oughta join the Marines like my oldest brother Scooter did, since I’m so easy in my mind about not bein’ up inside a woman all the time and they need good men like the commercials say. Call me prejudiced, but we Sayres are the best men going.

So anyways it makes me real nervous, what Pa said about Cletus’s balls, so much so that I can’t sleep right. So’s I go to Auntie Reba, since everyone knows she’s a witch who can see into shit like what-all is wrong with Cletus’s balls and what-all he needs to do to make him right again. I catch her drinkin’ moonshine on the porch of that old shed she lives in, but she ain’t honey-tongued on it or nothin’. Matter of fact, she’s right sharp.

“Cletus, Otis’s boy?” she shrieks at me. “That dog-faced galoot! What’s he done and got hisself a girl for? He ain’t got the balls for it.”

“I know it, Auntie Reba,” I say. “That’s why I’m here to figger out how to help him.”

Auntie Reba screws up her lips and says, “That’s man’s magic. I ain’t able to help him none.”

“Ah, c’mon Auntie Reba,” I say, coz she always says no first, even when you ask her nice. “I’ll manure up your daisies for you, if’n you help.”

“Well, maybe,” she says, still with her lips like they’s been sucking on a lemon. “Come back tomorrer, we’ll see if’n I got anything for you.”

So I was real excited about that, ‘specially cause that night Cletus’s girl and him and me ended up goin’ to the high school game together, and what with her tellin’ him to do this and that and everything I got plenty pissed at her–and him, too. When she went to the pisser at halftime I says to my cousin, “Christ Jesus, but I could kick your ass some days, Cletus. Why the blessed fuck do you let her kick you around like you wasn’t more than some mangy dog?”

“Fuck, Sparky, it ain’t like that,” says Cletus, gettin’ all hangdog on me coz he knowed it was like that, after all.

I ain’t got nothin’ on Cletus–he’s 250 pounds of pure bear muscle, and I’m a buck-fifty when I’m soaking wet. But he made me so all-fired mad, droppin’ his head in shame at me, that I saw red and figgered I had to take him in hand. So I wait till he ain’t lookin’ and then grab his doo-dang and balls through his dusty-ass Levi’s and give him a hard ol’ squeeze. Cletus yelps like a hurt puppy and rears up to punch me but I ain’t skeered of it or nothin’, I just sit there smirking at him.

“Just had to check, Cletus,” I say to him. “Couldn’t tell if you still had a pecker between them legs, the way you been acting.”

“You’ll fuckin’ die for that, Sparky Sayres,” he says, and I gotta grin coz it was my manly cousin Cletus back again, talkin’ like that. We was all set up to have ourselves a nice knock-out fight like we used to, but then Cletus’s girl comes back from the crapper and she’s all, “CLEE-tus! You ain’t fightin’, are you?” And Cletus does his hangdog naw thing and that was the end of that.

The whole business made me madder than a stuck pig, so I go to Auntie Reba’s real early the next day, and sit there fumin’ on her porch, watchin’ the sun rise.

Auntie Reba don’t act like she’s surprised to see me or nothin’ when she comes out onto the porch in her nightgown with the flowers on it. She just hands me these two Mason jars with this oily looking stuff inside them.

“I told you this is man’s magic,” she says. “It’s gotta be done by a man. You reckon your balls have dropped enough for you to handle it?”

“I’m a Sayres man, true and true,” I say. “I ain’t skeered of a little magic.”

Auntie makes a little hmf! noise and says, “You drink the potion in your right hand. That’ll give you enough magic to help that idjit Cletus out. Then have him drink this other one, and he’ll be right as rain in regard to that woman of his.”

“Thanks, Auntie!” I say, already running off the porch to go find Cletus.

“You best be back tomorrow to dung up these daisies, Sparky Sayres!” she shouts at me as I go runnin’. “You forget your half of the deal and I’ll curse you twelve ways from Sunday, you hear?”

I find Cletus in the barn, workin’ on the transmission of his truck. He looks like a fuckin’ picture of manhood, all grease-stained and sweaty in his wife-beater, and for a second I wonder if’n maybe I ain’t rememberin’ right about him bein’ pussy-whipped and all. But then I think of his girl shriekin’ “CLEE-tus!” and I swallow the whole of Auntie’s potion in one gulp. It’s nastier than a day-old spittoon, but the minute it’s down my gullet, I get kinda woozy and I can feel my dick plump up nice and fat. That heavy weight growin’ in my shorts makes me feel like the fuckin’ King of England, no mistake, and I saunter right up to Cletus and put the jar of his potion right down on his tool bench.

“Hell, Cletus,” I say with a shit-eatin’ grin on my face, “ain’t you done with that truck yet? You ain’t usually this slow. You just hidin’ out from that she-pig of yours?”

“What the fuck did you just say?” he yells, steppin’ up to me like he was ready to whup me.

“Aw, c’mon Cletus, ya gotta know,” I say, not skeered at all with Auntie Reba’s man-juice in my blood. “She ain’t worthy of you, man. We all see it. You ain’t a man around her.”

“You take it fuckin’ back,” he says, his fists all bunched up.

“Hell, Cletus, I ain’t gonna fight you. She ain’t worth it,” I say. I pick up the potion and hand it to him. “Peace, yeah? Here’s some of Auntie Reba’s moonshine. It’s the good stuff.” I figger Jesus will forgive me tellin’ a lie since I was doin’ it to help out my kin.

He gives me the ol’ fish-eye but he grabs the bottle just the same, swiggin’ it back and then near spittin’ it out afterward. “That’s fuckin’ nasty!” he says, wipin’ his mouth. “Goddammit, Sparky, what’s gotten into Auntie Reba’s still?”

“Powerful, though, ain’t it?” I ask, grinnin’ at him.

“I guess so,” says Cletus. “Shit! I feel like a horse kicked me in the head already.” He breathes through his nose. “It feels fuckin’ weird, man, no mistake.”

He looks like he’s about ready to fall over, so I step up and wrap my scrawny arm around his big bear shoulders. “Hey, now, Cletus, ain’t you feeling more powerful? It’s supposed to be a fuckin’ kick in the balls, man.”

“Shit, naw,” he mumbles. “Feelin’ real weird. Kinda floaty.”

Well, I know it ain’t real good of me, since I was there to help and all, but that made me fuckin’ mad right there, cause the whole point was to make Cletus harder and here he was all drifty and shit.

“Fucking hell, Cletus Beauregard Sayres,” I say to him, “I wouldn’t believe you got yourself a pair of balls if’n I hadn’t felt them through your pants last night. Fuck, this here drink was supposed to make you a fuckin’ lion, cuz!”

“Sorry, Sparky,” he says, droppin’ his head just like I was that harpy girl of his.

“I’ll make you fuckin’ sorry,” I say. Like I say, I ain’t big as Cletus but right then it didn’t matter one way or the other. I yanked my belt out of my jeans and gave it a big ol’ crack right under Cletus’s nose. “You want me to make you really sorry, Cletus?”

“Fuck, no way, Sparky,” mumbles Cletus.

“What?” I shout at him. “C’mon, speak up, cuz.”

“I said I don’t want you to beat me, Sparky,” says Cletus, and hell if that don’t shoot straight to the root of my cock, him sayin’ that. It’s a real unprecedented situation, but I start gettin’ fuckin’ turned on, standin’ over my muscly cousin and havin’ him all worried about little ol’ me whuppin’ his ass. Just standin’ there my Johnson gets all hard and twisted up in my tighty-whities, and the more it jerks around in the cotton the more I get fuckin’ ideas about Cletus and me.

I like to think I got some fuckin’ pride and all, and can keep it in my pants if’n I need to, but hell if I wasn’t charged up enough to take some fuckin’ drastic action.

“I won’t beat you none if you show me some balls, Cletus,” I say.

“Fuck, Sparky, I ain’t gonna start no fight with my girl,”says Cletus.

“I ain’t talkin’ about that,” I growl. “I want you to show me some balls, Cletus.” I take my folded-up belt and run the edge of it up his pant leg so he catches on.

He gets this panicked look but he don’t go all over mad like I expect. “F-fuck, Sparky, what the hell?” he asks.

“I wanna see your balls, Cletus,” I say, still strokin’ him with the belt. “I still ain’t sure they’re in there.”

“They’re in there, they’re fuckin’ big,” he says, but he doesn’t sound like he’s too sure, and I sorta grin at him.

“Then show me, Cletus,” I say. “C’mon, show your cuz those balls.”

“Fuck you,” he says, but then he pulls open his Levis and lets them drop to his ankles, kickin’ them off his boots so he’s just in his whities.

“C’mon, Cletus,” I say, running the belt on the inside of his thigh. “You ain’t showin’ them yet, are you?”

“Shit, man, why the fuck are you into my balls all the sudden?” says Cletus, but he’s got sweat all over his sunburned face.

“Fuck, dude, because I used to have a cousin with balls,” I say. “He was my best buddy but now his balls are gone and I think he is too.” I tap his hairy thigh with the belt and then let it slide a little under the loose leg of his briefs.

“Fuck, man, you made your point,” he says, shudderin’ under the touch of the leather. “I get it, you don’t like my girl.”

“Briefs,” I say, rubbing the belt up and down.

He bites his lip and then wriggles out of his whities, givin’ me a real nice show even though he probably didn’t mean to. ‘Course I seen his block and tackle before, but me havin’ drunk Auntie Reba’s potion his organ looks real different. Now lookin’ at Cletus’s beef and potatoes is like lookin’ at a pretty girl or something–half your brain’s thinkin’ that’s nice and all and the other half is thinking fuck, I could do some nasty shit to that.

“There’s my balls, Sparky,” says Cletus. “You cool now?”

“Huh,” I say, “they look all right.” I use my belt to lift up his heavy hangers, and he grunts a little. His dick’s a real nice one, fat and long at the same time, and I see why his girl does a lot of screamin’ when they sneak off to his room.

“Nice,” I say. “‘Course, I’m bigger.”

“The fuck you are,” he says. “Every girl I’ve ever been with says I’m the biggest they’ve ever had.”

“Fuckin’ too bad for them I ain’t interested in pluggin’ them,” I say. “My piece would split them from ass to bellybutton.”

“That’s fuckin’ boasting,” he says, but he gulps real hard and tries not to show that he’s lookin’ at the package in my tight Levis.

“You can see for yourself, Cletus,” I say. “All ya gotta do is yank down my pants.”

“I ain’t doin’ that, Sparky,” he says, still starin’ at my crotch. “That’s fuckin’ queer.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d be skeered of it,” I say. I ain’t never been this commandin’ before in my life, and it feels fuckin’ amazing.

“Fuck you,” says Cletus. He steps right up to me so’s we’re nose to nose and I get a good look at them thick-ass arm muscles comin’ out of his stained wife-beater. He grabs my pants and undoes ‘em real awkward-like, tryin’ to keep eye contact but I can see he’s real ashamed of himself and what he’s doin’. He goes to drop my pants but they’re tight enough they get cinched around my thighs and he has to kneel down in front of me to work ‘em all the way off.

He looks up at me, and it ain’t too bad by my reckonin’ that when I look down I see his face framed against my yellowed briefs.

“Shit, Sparky, what’s going on?” he asks me, lookin’ all hangdog. “Why am I behavin’ this way?”

“You’re gonna pull down my pecker pockets, Cletus,” I say, grinnin’ at him, “and get yourself a good look at a real man’s balls.”

He gulps hard then, his big bull neck jumpin’ up and down, and then nods. “O-okay,” he says, and he reaches up with his fuckin’ mechanic hands to slowly pull down my briefs. He goes slow enough that the elastic goes inch by inch over my huge sausage, and by the time little Sparky’s free, my cousin’s eyes are wide as fuckin’ saucers.

“Christ on a cross, Sparky,” he says as my donger waves around in the air right by his nose, “how you been concealin’ this fuckin’ rocket launcher all this time?”

I put my hand on his head and pull off his MAGA hat so I can grab him by the hair. “Balls,” I say. “Get yourself a good eyeful, there, Cletus.” I pull him into my crotch so that his face is right up against my manhood and it feels fuckin’ great to have him all sputterin’ with suprise right there where my hog and hangers are.

“You see them balls, Cletus?” I say, grinding his head into my crotch. My pecker’s risin’ quick and it’s only his head keepin’ me from givin’ him a full-on fuckstick salute. “You taste the manhood on them? That’s Sayres’ manhood, right there. You should have your fuckin’ snout full of that stench, not some pussy perfume.”

“Yes, Sparky,” he says into my bullocks.

“Fuckin’ right,” I growl, still grinding him into me. “Breathe deep, dude. You gonna dump that bitch, Cletus?”

“Fuck, I can’t, Sparky,” he says.

“You fuckin’ what?” I say, pullin’ him away from my crotch by the hair. The minute his head pulls away, my dick jumps up like a sprung mousetrap. Cletus looks up at me a mite afraid, even though I’m about a third his size. “What did you say to me?” I say to him.

“Shit, Sparky, don’t make me break up with her,” he says. “She scares me, all right?”

“Jesus, Cletus,” I say. “Ain’t you gettin’ nothin’ from smellin’ my balls? Guess we gotta up the ante. Suck my cock.”

He grins like I asked him to fly. “Man, I can’t do that.”

“You fuckin’ can and will,” I say, yanking him forward by the hair again. He tries pullin’ away, but by the time he really puts up a fight I’ve got my huge tube nestled up nice and snug against his face, rubbin’ my manflesh all over his cheek and mouth.

“Christ, it smells so good,” mumbles Cletus into my dick, and that charges me all up and so I pull back, aim the head right at him, and give him that daddy’s-disappointed cough my Pa and uncles make sometime, and hell if’n his mouth don’t pop open like one of them blow-up dolls, and the next thing I know I’m fucking the mouth of my big bruiser cousin.

Shit, but it felt fucking good, glidin’ over that tongue. If’n you ain’t never had no big-mouthed muscle dude garglin’ your manhood, I fuckin’ recommend it. Cletus started slurpin’ and suckin’ noisily on my pecker like a calf at his mother’s teat, and it felt real right for me to grab him by the back of the head and help him enjoy the whole length of my pork sword as I rammed it into him. Fuck, even when I pounded into him deep and he gagged on it, it felt fuckin’ amazing all the way up the shaft, and the drool fallin’ out of his mouth splashed all over my heavy swingin’ balls and really charged me up.

“Fuck, that mouth, Cletus,” I moaned as I face-fucked him, “you got a real nice mouth, cuz.” He just gargled, which made me feel real sexy, pluggin’ my father’s nephew’s mouth-hole.

I can feel my cum brewin’ and I figger I can feed it all to Cletus, or I can really inspire him with a true manly example. So I pull him off my cock with a wet pop and grin as I watch him catchin’ his breath.

“You gonna dump her, man?” I ask. “Or do I gotta get real serious?”

“C’mon, Sparky,” says Cletus. “Don’t make me break up with no one. I ain’t good at it.”

“Christ Jesus, Cletus,” I say. “I ain’t never seen no Sayres man so pussy-whipped that he could pull his lips off another man’s cock and still not see his way to lettin’ a pussy walk.” Makin’ sure he saw me do it, I slicked the length of my cock, lettin’ his slobber drip off as I jacked myself slowly. “I guess the only way to get you back is to give you a healthy shot of Sayres’ manhood back into your balls.”

“What–what do you mean?” he asks.

I grin. “Flip yourself over, there, Cletus, and let me see what we got to work with here.”

“Fuck, no, Sparky,” he says, all over nervous. “That ain’t necessary.”

“It sure is necessary,” I say to him. “Do I need to get my belt again?”

Well Cletus has been conditioned for commands for sure, coz that’s all I gotta say and he gets his hangdog look again. “Naw,” he says, and he turns around and gets on his knees so’s that I can see his ass. Cletus’s got a real big man-ass, fuckin’ hockey butt and thighs, nice and furry with hair. I ain’t never given much thought to asses before, I guess, but I sure do like the way that Cletus’s hairy ass feels as I run my slicked-up pecker up and down his hot crack which is pretty wet from his sweat.

“Fuck, that’s a sweet ass,” I say.

“C’mon, Sparky,” says Cletus to me. “I ain’t never had nothin’ up in there. I–ooh, Jesus, Sparky. Oh my god. Jesus!”

“You’re a fuckin’ caution, Cletus,” I say as I sink the fat head of my dick into Cletus’s tight little shitter. Fuck, but my cousn’s muscle-ass has got a great little cherry hole. It’s a real shame he’s got hisself a girl, I mean on top of her being the devil herself, coz he’s got a hole to make the pickiest pecker happy, and no mistake. I have to push into that smooth fist of flesh some but after some inches, damn if those ass lips start goin’ at me like Cletus’s greedy mouth had been at me just moments before.

“Oh, Jesus fuck,” I say. I think my motherfuckin’ eyes even cross in my head. “Shit, you got a real nice ass-pussy, there, Cletus.”

“Sparky,” he moans, but he don’t say he don’t like it or nothin’.

“You like that Sayres dick all up in you?” I grunt as I shove some more inches into his muscle-butt. “You like me fuckin’ you raw like a horny pig in heat? You gonna have an itch up your ass each time you think of me?” I’m fuckin’ riding my cousin’s huge ass like its a buckin’ broncho, and he’s moaning like a little bitch as his insides get pounded out. My skinny ass is grabbin’ air I’m pumpin’ into him so hard, but–fuck, he fuckin’ likes it. My cousin is fuckin’ into getting plowed by my fat-ass dick.

“Spaaaaaarky,” he moans, soundin’ like a real sexed-up mess, and that just makes me pound him harder while he grunts.

“I guess this means I fuckin’ own you, Cletus,” I say, pulling out almost all the way and then skewering him to the hilt while he groans. “So here’s the terms, yeah? I ain’t happy with you being with that woman or nothin’, but if it makes my little ass-cousin happy–shit, that feels fuckin’ good Cletus–I guess I can’t say boo. So, fuck it, keep dating her. But you’re gonna make excuses to her so’s you can swing on my dick on the regular, you hear?”

“Y-ya, Sparky,” he pants as I power-drive fuck him. “Whatever you say. Shit, man, don’t stop.”

“I ain’t stoppin till I plant my swimmers in you, Cletus,” I say, humpin’ his muscle ass. “You want that? Want me to breed you with my super-strong Sayres sperm?”

“Fuck me, man,” Cletus mumbles.

“Oh, I’ll fuck you,” I mumble as I feel the feeling of my hot cum build up in my swingin’ balls. “I’ll fuck you in your fuckin’ truck, and under the bleachers at the game, and when we’re all watchin’ ball in the living room I’ll have my fingers up your ass keepin’ my place, and when everyone else passes out on moonshine I’ll slide my hot long fucker down that sexy wet mouth so’s you can milk my fuckin’ batter out my–OH GOD, CLETUS, I’M FUCKIN’ CUMMING MAN, I’M SHOOTING MY BULL SNOT UP YOUR ASS PUSSY OH FUCKIN’ GOD CUZ I LOVE YOUR HOT ASSHOLE YOU BIG OL’ GALOOT! FUCKY FUCKER FUCKTON!” I pounded my last long slam into Cletus’s man-gash and unloaded myself into his hungry asshole, cummin’ so hard I swear it took some piss along with it, it gushed outta me so heavy and hot. Cletus started in on wailin’ like an angry cat as I cream-stuffed him from behind, and then his fat ol’ hog starts spurtin’ on its own accord, splashin’ his own Sayres’ snot all over the dusty floor of the barn.

I’m so dog tired from the fuck that I just drop to the floor after I pull out of him, not even carin’ I’m lyin’ in my cousin’s own baby gravy. “Fuck, Cletus, but you are a righteous fuck,” I say.

He lies down too, next to me, and I put my arm around him.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, “It ain’t right, you takin’ control of me.”

“Ain’t it?” I grinned. “Seems like you didn’t hate it none. Wasn’t it you that was moanin’ ‘Spaaaaarky’ just a moment afore?”

“Fuck you, Sparky,” he said.

“Naw, Cletus–I fucked you,” I said back to him, grinnin’ wider. “And it ain’t gonna be the last time–not by a long shot.”

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