Lesson Learned in the Barn

"That's it Josh! I can't take any more of this shit. It's like you don't give a damn about your life. You are 19 years old and you're not trying to do shit with yourself. You won't go to school. You won't keep a job. And don't let me get started on that riffraff you hang around," Lydia yelled. She had finally reached her limit with her lazy, adult man child.

"Fuck mom, you're on a roll. Say what you want to say," Josh retorted with a chuckle in his voice. He was used to this tirade at least once a month from his mom. At this point it was nothing but empty words.

"You want to hear what I've got to say? Well here it is little boy. I've done my job to parent you to the best of my ability. I've loved and supported you for 19 years but I'm tired. You're lazy and disrespectful. You bring your whores to my house. You lay around all day hanging with your equally sorry ass friends and smoke weed all day, then you run the streets till all hours of the night doing God only knows. I want you out of my house," Lydia said matter-of-factly.

"Mom, you're being overly dramatic. Go drink a glass of wine, take a Xanax, and lay down," Josh said mockingly.

"You think this is a joke? I don't need Xanax. I need the person that's getting on my last fucking nerve out of my damn house and that's you! Go upstairs and start packing your shit. Now!"

Josh knew that tone. That was the 'boy you'd better get your ass out of my face if you know what's best for you, tone. "Mama you can't be serious. Where am I supposed to go? You're just going to put me out on the streets?" Josh asked, finally getting the memo that his mom was serious.

"Oh so now you're scared of the streets? Could have fooled me as much as you run them getting picked up by the police. I talked to your uncle Buchanan. He needs help at his farm and he's willing to let you stay for free and pay you for your work. He'll come to pick you up today around 2 o'clock."

"Man I'm not going to work on no fucking farm. It ain't shit to do out there!" Josh yelled.

"Well the streets it is. Because you can test me if you want boy, but you're getting the fuck out of here today. If you have a mind to be resistant to leaving this house, Buck will be here to help you see things my way. One way or another you're leaving this house. How and where you go is up to you."

Lydia held firm even when she wanted to cry as she listened to her only child curse, yell, and destroy his room in a fit of rage. As a parent she had done all she could. After Warren had been killed in a car accident 12 years ago it was just her and their son. Warren had seen to it even after his death that they were well taken care of financially so she never felt the need to go out and seek out a mate. Of course she had discreetly entertained a lover or two but she had never introduced another positive male influence into her son's life. That had been her mistake she thought as she listened to what amounted to a grown ass man having a temper tantrum.

Lydia loved her son. He was all she had left of the man she had loved since she was 16 years old. But she couldn't pretend any longer or bury her head in the sand ignoring that he was a spoiled, petulant child. She had done him no favors by coddling him. She wasn't a fool. She knew that if something wasn't done to make him grow up sooner or later this wicked world would make an example of him. Lydia was not prepared to bury her son or to see him caged like an animal. All she could do was pray that when her brother in law Buchanan came that Josh would have enough sense to go with him.

Josh couldn't believe his mom was putting him out. Where the fuck was he supposed to go? He thought about a few of the girls he was screwing but all of them lived with their parents, who incidentally thought he was a piece of shit, so that was out. He had a few friends who had their own spot but they lived with their old ladies, so at best he could only crash for a day or two before he'd be back to square one. "Fuck!" Josh yelled as he knocked all his trophies and doodads to the floor. He was pissed not so much that he was being kicked out. Living at home with his mom had some conveniences but it had become a drag with her nagging him about being a man, getting a job, and doing something with himself. He was pissed because he was being kicked out with no money and no options.

Josh was fucked and he knew it. He couldn't fool himself. He had no choice but to go to the country with his uncle who he hadn't seen since he was a kid. He didn't want to go. He knew absolutely nothing about life on the farm and to be honest he didn't really want to learn, but he also didn't know shit about sleeping in cardboard boxes and he didn't want to learn that either! So his decision was made. He'd go to the country, work on the farm, and the second he'd accumulated enough money he would go back to civilization and get his own place where he could call the shots and come and go as he pleased.

**********

Buchanan hadn't heard from Lydia in a few years. She called from time to time to check in on him. She didn't have to. The way he figured she had been let off the hook if you took into account the till death do you part. She wasn't obligated to keep contact, he sure hadn't. He and his brother Warren had been close once upon a time but those days were long gone and Warren had been long dead so there wasn't any making up for any of it.

He hadn't seen Joshua since he was a little boy. Warren and Lydia had stopped by en route to whatever their vacation destination had been at the time. After their parents had died, their relationship remained strained. Buchanan and Warren had endured a harsh upbringing, but when their parents fell ill, Buchanan felt compelled to care for them despite the fact that they both had been awful parents. Warren felt no such compulsion. However, when the assets were to be divided he was the first to come running. For Buchanan that rankled something in him. It wasn't about the money or the house or any of it. He was a keep that same energy type of guy. If he didn't fuck with you, there was no amount of anything you could promise that would make him change his mind.

All of that was water under the bridge. Their parents were gone, Warren was gone and he was making the 6 hour drive to pick up a nephew he really didn't know. He really didn't want the trouble but Javier had been his farm hand for a few years. He liked to drink too much and Buchanan didn't begrudge a man his drink as long as he knew how to work and hold his liquor. The only problem was Javi was a diabetic and the years of an alcohol diet and disdain for the doctor's orders to change it had taken a toll and a foot. So now he was short a farm hand and he needed help. He couldn't run the place on his own, but he had given it one hell of a run.

He arrived at Lydia's promptly at 2. He was punctual, not just because the military had drilled it in him, but life on a farm did as well. There were always animals to tend, machinery to fix, fencing to check, eggs to gather, and the list went on and on. Even now all he had in his head was getting back so another day wouldn't be wasted.

Lydia met him outside the house with a beatific smile and warm hug. She had always been a pretty little thing and the years had been kind. She barely looked a day over 30, though he knew she was 38, the same age Warren would have been. She seemed genuinely disappointed when he declined her invitation for lunch, but he explained his schedule and his need to make it back to make sure the animals were tended.

"Josh, Lydia called up the stairs, your uncle is here. He's on a tight schedule so you need to come down." Josh bounded down the stairs nearly knocking his mother over with his one suitcase and backpack.

"Okay, let's go," he said as he sailed past Lydia without a glance or a word. Buchanan felt his body tense at the blatant disrespect, but Lydia placed her hand on his arm and silently entreated him to let it go. He complied, first because it ultimately wasn't any of his business and secondly because he didn't really need to make the foot he and the kid started on any more tense and awkward.

Buchanan and Lydia said their goodbyes. Joshua ignored them both, choosing to put in his airpods. "Don't worry, the kid will be fine," Buchanan said.

"I hate that I put this on you. But I just don't know what to do at this point." Lydia said.

"You think a 19 year old with a bad attitude is enough to ruffle my feathers? I don't think so. He'll be fine and so will I. He needs to grow up without the softness of his mama to fall back on. Trust me, it'll be okay.." Buchanan said as he gave Lydia a hug and proceeded to climb into his pickup. He had a long ride home. The way he figured, a 6 hour drive would be just long enough to know just what exactly he'd gotten himself into.

*******

It only took a matter of days for Buchanan to fully understand why Lydia had been so eager to part with her darling son Joshua. The boy was a spoiled jerk. There was just no other way to say it so Buchanan had his work cut out for him from the word go. Joshua had no get up about him and no sense of discipline. He didn't like being told shit if the sour look on his face was any indication, hence the reason why he didn't seem to know shit that could actually further him in life. Joshua was indolent, arrogant, lazy, and definitely not worth the $15/hour he was being paid to know jack shit about the basic workings of a farm. And then there was his attitude. The kid's attitude stank worse than trash on a hot day in July and for the most part Buchanan tolerated it because the kid did what was asked and kept his mouth closed, but if eyes could talk, Buchanan would have been called everything but a child of God.

Josh hated this farm shit, outside of work, there was literally nothing to do here. There were no chicks of the human variety, no weed, no McDonald's, no liquor, no nothing. Every day was the same shit. There were no weekends off. Every day he and his uncle woke up at 4:30 am. They worked until noon and worked some more from 3:00-7:00 pm. Thank God his uncle had the good sense to have a housekeeper, Rosa, who prepared their meals, washed clothes, and did rudimentary chores around the house. His uncle didn't seem to have any lady friends or any friends for that matter. It was like the dude was a monk, Josh thought. Well he for damn sure wasn't. He was going apeshit in this dusty motherfucker. He hadn't had pussy since he left home. WiFi was nonexistent so even online porn was out of the question. Like what did this guy do to bust a nut in this place?

While his uncle was away in town getting a part for the tractor, Josh thought it was as good a time as any to snoop around this place. He had been here six weeks and as far as he could tell Buck didn't go out and he hadn't seen anyone come here. He didn't understand it. The guy was decent looking, though not much of a conversationalist. He was fit as fuck with all the lifting and loading he did around here. Sure he was busy, but hell that was no reason to not have a little sweet thang to cuddle up to every now and again. Josh peered under Buck's mattress and struck gold. What single guy doesn't keep an easily accessible stash of porn under his mattress?

Josh was shocked by what he found. It was porn but not the kind Josh had been looking for. Josh had expected MILFs with humongous tits and fat juicy pussies. Mentally he told himself he was disgusted seeing these strong muscular men clad in leather with their mouths stuffed with cock yet he couldn't turn away. God his uncle was a sick fuck he thought even as his own cock began to twitch as he looked at glossy pages filled with men with their throats and asses crammed full of cock. He had had his share of girls but he had never had one who could take his full 8 inch cock without discomfort. He marveled at these men who had their asses battered and filled to the brim by cocks bigger than his own.

Josh lost track of time looking at those magazines. Images of hot man on man sex were seared to his brain. Josh slipped the magazines back under his uncle's mattress and went upstairs to the room he'd chosen. He didn't know what was wrong with him. He wasn't gay and he'd kick a guy's ass if he even looked at him the wrong way yet he couldn't pretend like his dick wasn't rock hard. He imagined what it would be like to fuck a tight ass and go balls deep without being told it hurts or to stop. Josh unleashed his heavy cock and closed his eyes at the thought as he stroked his length unhurried.

Whenever his uncle left for town, Josh would rush to that hidden trove of skin magazines. He blamed this new interest in gay sex on his horniness and the absence of pussy that his senses had become so filled with images of large masculine men fucking. He masturbated to the replay of these images multiple times a day. One night when he was alone in his room he inserted a finger in his rectum. That lone finger incited an unrelenting itch, a craving for something more. He used the handle of his brush until it became insufficient. Then he found a discarded toothbrush holder. The length was good but it didn't have enough weight to feel substantial. In the end he used his fingers as he found he loved the feel of flesh more than any discarded item he had been able to find around the house. Weeks would pass and this would become his routine. From the second he heard his uncle's pickup drive off he would head to that stash; his cock would be hard before he got there, already throbbing with need.

*******

Buchanan had lived alone for a long time. He liked the quiet. He liked his routine. Like many people who lived alone, he liked his things just so. With this particular predilection it was easy to spot when his space had been invaded. His bed was always made and tucked as he had learned in the military. On multiple occasions it was found not tucked as precise and tight as he'd left it. His books usually stacked neatly according to size would be found askew on his nightstand. His porn stash under his mattress seemed a bit worn considering he only perused its pages sporadically. He knew the boy was invading his space and though he had nothing to hide and no shame in how he lived his life, a man's space should be respected. So when he left the farm "to pick up a part" he waited about 20 minutes before he turned around, leaving his truck at that gate and walked quietly back to the house.

Buchanan wasn't shocked at finding the boy in his room looking at his porn stash. He had known that, what he hadn't expected was for Josh to have some kind of phallic object up his ass and to be beating off one of the thickest, prettiest 8 inch cocks he'd ever seen and he'd seen plenty. "Sorry to interrupt, but around here we mind our business boy," Buck said, catching the boy with more than his hand in the cookie jar, but choosing not to focus on that as it was a normal aspect of a young man's life. Get downstairs and get the horses fed."

Josh, more than a little embarrassed at being caught looking at gay porn with a brush handle up his ass, missed the magnanimity of his uncles handling of the situation and said "I'll be damned if I stay here and listen to some in the closet faggot--" Josh didn't get to finish his sentence before Buchanan's fist caught him right in the temple, knocking him out cold. Buck didn't give a damn about being called a faggot. He'd been called worse by better and had learned long ago that the more sensitive you are the more power ignorant assholes have to use against you.

Buck wasn't in hiding about his sexuality, though it wasn't something he made front page news. He'd heard the word enough as a kid that one would think he'd be impervious to its sting, but the implication of the word faggot had a way of creeping under his skin. The idea that because he was gay he was inherently weak and less of a man therefore somehow less worthy of respect. That word made him feel like he had something to prove. It made him feel like there was a lesson he needed to teach. As a child, it meant he had to be faster, tougher, and smarter. He had to excel at everything so his differences from other boys didn't matter so much. They may have called him a faggot but he made sure that anyone who said it only had the nerve to say it once. The boy would be no different.

The boy needed a lesson in humility. He needed to be stripped. Stripped of everything he thought he deserved and shown how to work for something, how to be deserving of it. He needed to be broken of petulance and insipid posturing. The boy was spoiled and entitled. He thought the world revolved around him and that people owed him something. Buck was just the person to teach him otherwise.

Josh came to consciousness with a headache that wouldn't quit. He immediately remembered his run in with his uncle Buchanan. Hell run over is more what it felt like. The guy hit like a Mack truck. It took a few blinks for his eyes to come into focus. It took another few seconds for the rest of his senses to get back online as well. When they did he was in for quite a shock with disbelief then panic overtaking him almost immediately. He was naked in a bed of hay and cuffed to some sort of pulley system located in a stall inside the barn. His body was completely bare except his dick stuffed into some kind of metal contraption with a small lock attached. He looked around to find his uncle sitting in a chair turned backwards with a piece of straw hanging off his lips, looking the picture of bored nonchalance.

Josh's emotions immediately switched from panic to rage as he tugged at his restraints, trying uselessly to get free. His powerlessness only served to enrage him more. "You faggot son of a bitch, get me out of these fucking cuffs! And were are my clothes you faggot motherfucker? You must get off on seeing my cock. When I get loose I'm going to make you suck it, you fucking faggot!"

There it was, Buchanan thought, mentally shaking his head, the posturing, the pretense of being a tough guy even when the deck was completely stacked in the other guy's favor. Buchanan listened to his nephew with no emotion. He stood up from the chair with lethal grace and lifted a Bucket that Josh had failed to notice. Buchanan walked up to stand right before his nephew who pulled fruitlessly at his bonds, his face contorted with impotent rage. Before Josh could open his mouth to say another word, Buchanan upended a Bucket of ice water on his head. While Josh gasped in shock, trying unsuccessfully to adjust to the frigid temperature Buchanan applied firm pressure around his nephew's throat. It wasn't until he saw the panicked look of a man out of oxygen reserves that he finally spoke.

"The entire time you've worked here I have been nothing short of welcoming. Most days you've been noncommittal and I can live with that, because you don't know me and I get that the circumstances that lead you here weren't your idea. But more days than not, you've been an arrogant, smart mouthed, entitled asshole. I had hoped to teach you about running a farm. I had hoped to teach you the things that my brother wasn't able to. Nod if you understand. You have been given shelter in my home, you have eaten my food, and earned a more than fair wage considering you know nothing about what it takes to run a farm, yet you still felt you could disrespect me. Is it because I'm a faggot or because I caught you with brush handle up your ass jerking off looking at faggot porn? In any case, you didn't appreciate my hospitality so I rescind it. Now everything you get will be earned. The water you drink, the food you eat, the clothes you wear, even a proper place to take a shit- from today you start with nothing. Nod if you understand. Good," Buchanan said as he stood up.