Fergies Boy

I was a mere lad of 18 when I ran away from the drudgery of farm life in southern Georgia. It was 1863 and I had decided to join the South's cause and fight the Yankee invaders. I was able to connect with a Confederate unit in Alabama. With no training, what so ever, I was issued the bare necessities, including a rifle and placed in a platoon headed by Sargent Amos Ferguson better known as Fergie. Fergie was older than most of the Alabama guys. Probably in his mid-fifties.

For several weeks, we drilled and drilled. The drilling made no sense to me as it did not apply to actual fighting. I asked Fergie, "What is the purpose of drilling and marching?" He responded, "Teaches discipline boy." Later at night, he further explained that we would need to react to commands without thought or questions. It seemed to make sense, but my feet hurt.

Fergie was a stern task master during drills, but a warm nice gentle man during down time. I liked him immediately. I stuck close to him trying to soak up as much knowledge as I could. Knowledge that would later prove vital to my survival.

I found out Fergie was a widower and a failed farmer. Our farm in southern Georgia barely provided a meager existence for a family of ten. Back breaking work from dawn to dusk with little to show for it. We grew food for the family and a small cotton patch for cash. To say we were dirt poor, would be an understatement.

Since we came from similar backgrounds, Fergie could relate, and understood why I had run away.

Finally, orders came for us to move out. We were given no information beyond that we were heading west. After a couple of weeks, my feet hurt even more than from the drilling. Fergie had taken a liking to me, and told me to stick close to him, which I eagerly did.

We arrived in Vicksburg, Mississippi at the beginning of March in 1863. Little did we know what lay ahead for us.

Following the Battle of Shiloh, General Ulysses S. Grant's Union army moved south. Grant hoped to secure control of the Mississippi River for the Union. Grant was about to lay siege to Vicksburg.

With the addition of our Alabama regiment, Vicksburg was well defended. After an initial assault was repulsed, Grant decided on a siege rather than continue the attack. At first, the siege was uneventful. We dug in, preparing for a real fight, which did not come.

As time ran on, supplies, mainly food, began to run low. Then the shelling began. Artillery barrages that would last hours. It was if we were in a trap with no escape.

I was sharing a foxhole with Fergie. We spent many days and long hours hunkered down in that pit. When the shelling would start, Fergie would hold me close, as I shivered and shook. He would stroke my body to give me comfort. During a heavy barrage, I could not help it I could feel a boner coming on. To my surprise, I could tell Fergie was also sporting a boner. I cuddled closer to feel his boner against my upper torso.

Neither of us had even touched our cocks, but yet, we both were sporting boners. I began to squirm, and heard Fergie say, "Boy you better stop that or I'm going to have to fuck you."

Those words shocked me to no end. Back on the farm, I had heard of guys buggering each other, but never contemplated being buggered. Did I hear right, I wondered?

I only cuddled closer, and was surprised when Fergie began removing my trousers. I think I had heard right. I was in a fetal position, where my back was to Fergie, making my backside available for easy access.

I felt a finger enter my asshole, then a second finger. I was being opened up. I did not know or realize what was happening, but Fergie had touched my prostate sending a warm feeling through my body causing me to leak cum. Then I felt a hard cock probing at my puckered ass. I stifled a scream as Fergie's cock entered my ass. The pain was intense momentarily, but was soon replace by a warm wonderful feeling. I loved the feeling of fullness that had overcome me.

When Fergie had achieved balls to the wall, he held for a short while, before beginning to fuck me. Slowly at first, and then building up speed till he was pounding my tight ass. Fergie was fucking his boy! Grunting and snorting as he did. All I could do was moan. I was loving it, and could feel an orgasm building up in me.

In the meantime, artillery shells were exploding all around us. It was a miracle we were not hit.

Just as an artillery ball exploded near us, Fergie drove deep and held, I could feel his hot warm cum being unleashed in my bowels. My own orgasm exploded and I came on myself. The feeling was exquisite. The thought, ran through my mind, oh my, I have been buggered and I loved it.

Fergie withdrew his cock from my backside and turned me around. For the first time I saw Fergie's hard cock. I thought, I can't believe all of that was in me.

"Clean my cock Jody," Fergie said.

I looked around for something to use to clean Fergie's cock. "No Jody, use your mouth," he said.

I was dumbstruck and unable to move. Then Fergie placed his hand on my head and began pulling me toward his cock. I opened my mouth to try and speak, but my mouth was soon filled with Fergie's cock. "Suck it and clean it boy," he said.

I began sucking his cock as best as I could, and heard him say, "Oh yes, that is the way. Do it boy."

I could feel his cock throb in my mouth, and realized I liked sucking him. I could taste a salty bittersweet residue of cum. I liked the taste.

Finally, Fergie withdrew his cock, and said, "That will do for now."

Little did I appreciate the last part, for now.

The Artillery barrage was ending. But the barrages and siege would continue for forty days. During that period, I became an accomplished cocksucker, and would suck off Fergie several times a day. I became addicted to his cum. He would also fuck me on occasion. I was Fergie's boy.

The siege finally had its desired effect, and devoid of supplies and food, the defenders of Vicksburg surrendered to Grant's forces.

The Confederate troops were taken to a prisoner of war camp outside of Nashville, Tennessee. We remained there for the rest of the war.

For almost two years, in that god forsaken camp, Fergie and I survived. I would suck him daily, and he continued to fuck me.

When the news reach Nashville, that Lee had surrendered to Grant at a place called Appomattox, we knew the war was over, and we would soon be released.

Fergie had talked about returning to south Alabama after the war and taking me with him. We did just that. We hired out on a shrimping boat out of Gulfport. I stayed with Fergie until his death in 1876. I even sucked his cock the day before his death.