The Lindegrin family has experienced more
than their fair share of tragedy ever since they emigrated from Sweden
to the United States. And not only did every tragedy include the death
of a son, but every son's death came at the hands of a woman!
XxxxIngemar perishes after his lady love after practically eats him like a tasty meal; Lars loses his life after he is kidnaped, tormented and tortured by two nebulous, sadistic barhop girls; twins Davin and Dana are brutally murdered by the last woman on earth who would ever do them harm!
XxxxThen there's Viktor … the only Lindegrin male with a chance to be SAVED by a female instead of killed by one!
Viktor had been hiding in the cellar at the time the men with guns came into his family's home on Rose Ridge and began shooting.
When the men who fired the guns departed, Viktor left his hiding place and found the bodies of his family scattered throughout the house. His father and mother were shot in the forehead. Both had their throats slit, and his oldest sibling had been shot. His younger brothers and sisters had been brained with a light-wood torch and then shot.
Viktor lovingly carried each of the bodies to the living room and stretched them out side-by-side. For hours he stood vigil over his murdered family.
He was all alone now. He had no one.
The death of the rest of his family impelled him to mentally revisit all of the tragedies the Lindegrin clan had faced since arriving on the shores of the so-called 'new world'.
In the past three months Viktor had already lost four brothers to violence. His oldest brother Ingemar was killed by a young woman who claimed to love him. His elder sister Nissa was pushed off a roof. She survived but was brain damaged.
Lars, scholar and learned philosopher, was the shining light of the Lindegrin family. Eleven days after they arrived in America he was kidnapped and killed. His twin brothers Davin and Dana were 'allegedly' found hanged in an obscure wooded area — murdered because of the immigrant-hating atmosphere of the town they'd trekked through.
Victor knew the truth about the deaths of the twins, but he had spent some time convincing himself that they'd perished just the way everyone claimed.
But the death that seemed most unbelievable was that of Ingemar. Viktor never understood the twists and turns of logic that led the hapless Dan Wasen (his brother's rival for the affections of a young barmaid) to kidnap Ingemar in order to impress a wanton whore like Katrina Hamlin.
However, he definitely related to his motives. The idiot got one thing right: Despite being a woman of loose morals, the tavern wench seemed to exist on a certain higher plane, and getting her attention required actions on a grand scale. Wasen's act itself just demonstrates the scope of his imagination.
On the fourteenth of February, Daniel Wasen came to the Lindegrin home armed with a rifle. Knowing that the enraged youth — who was his chief rival for the hand of Katrina Hamlin — might indeed kill him, Ingemar begged for his life, promising that he'd stay away from the barmaid. But Wasen would not hearken to him, but knocked the youth on his blond head, stripped him naked, and placed his unconscious body on Katrina's porch.
Viktor heard the rest of the story from Katrina Hamlin's own mouth.
She spoke candidly about how she wearily looked down at the boy lying unconscious on her porch in an almost keeling position. Flowers and a box of chocolates at his side. There was also a Valentine's day card which stated that Wasen wanted her to fuck Ingemar as much as she wanted, but when she was done with beautiful blond boy, she would marry him [Wasen] and never again lust after another man.
Katrina almost admired the boldness of the angry youth. But she looked at the angry bruise forming on the knocked-out Ingemar's face and regretted being the source of such anger and violence. Sbe couldn't believe that Daniel Wasen had knocked the blond boy out cold ... and then carried and dragged him to her front porch!
Once Katrina got Ingemar into the house and onto her bed she seemed to lose control.
Like a hungry animal she began to lick the Swedish twenty-two-year-old's smooth tanned skin. she brought her mouth to the male-nipples and nursed, sucking at length at the hard bits of protuberant flesh. Her darting, wet, hot tongue edged its way south and soon the barmaid was licking and then sucking the steely penis. Regaining consciousness, Ingemar tensed — sensing something about to happen in his loins.
When Katrina slurped one of his big balls into her mouth and began rolling it around and lashing it with her tongue. It felt great … and the loose woman certainly loved the slightly salty taste of the scrotal skin. Skin that was ripe with musky male aroma. But what she loved best in this situation was the blood she drew! She bit down quickly and harshly with her feline-like incisors and canines and side-sheared to cut the skin.
She tasted the tang of Ingemar Lindegrin's warm blood in her mouth. Every muscle in the finely toned body reflexed and corded even as the blond youth cried out in agony. And as Katrina Hamlin continued to chew, his cries turned to screams as he realized the woman he loved was truly intent on biting off his manhood!
And she did!
She could have gnawed off the first ball much more quickly than she did, but took her time and savored the moment. After she had the Swede's scrotum open, she tongued out the ball itself, sucking to draw it forth. She rolled it around within her mouth for a bit before chewing through the connecting tissues and cords.
She then swallowed the severed ball whole ... before dipping her head and using her mouth to seek the second ball. Ingemar Lindegrin was in unimaginable pain. When finally both balls had been removed by Katrina Hamlin's surgical teeth he had perished from shock.
But she wasn't through with him.
Katrina Hamlin also had a love for male feet and, dead or not, she was not going to pass up a chance to have her was with Ingemar Lindegrin's two well-shaped beauties! She sucked the dead boy's toe like she had sucked her own thumb when she was a child. She licked between his toes.
She moved from toe to toe, sucking each in turn until Ingemar's toes were wet with her saliva. And when she had finished with one foot, she lifted the other one. She sucked the dead youth's toes until she couldn't remember anything other than having the Swede's sweet toes in her mouth. She began licking the sides of his feet. She licked his soles and his heels and didn't stop until his lifeless body began to expel its waste.
In 1945 a brawny blond angel descended upon a cloistered town concealed in the Eastern United States.
To recount how this angel came to be at this locality, we must begin our tale with a man whom everyone would describe as brawny ... but whom NO ONE would call an angel. His name was Elwell Stone and on the day he encountered the angel in question he was carefully walking through a patch of woods located eleven of a miles from his home. He had a 0.30-caliber semiautomatic rifle strapped to his shoulder and a purposeful glint in his dark eyes. He was a man on a mission.
The very reason for this mission — and the fact that he had to be sufficiently armed while engaged in it — left Elwell deeply disturbed. He and the people of the all-Colored town of Millview Pennsylvania were discovering that the dreaded white folks were encroaching upon their sacred little piece of Negro-owned earth. Instead of abiding by the law and staying off his land, someone was selling off sections of this very private property to unsuspecting European immigrants.
So he and his followers decided to nip the problem in the bud. This was the way of Stone and all his kin. After all, he was descended from the founder of the Seven Aces, the covert Negro organization. His grandfather, Paul Malacai Stone, had willed the land to him not long before his death in 1935.
Now, ten years later, Elwell was ready and willing to kill in order to keep his birthright. But he wouldn't just mindlessly attack the immigrants who'd built the cabin on Rose Ridge — there was a very good chance that they had been bamboozled by land-grabbers ... that they had no idea what they were doing when they'd purchased the property.
No, Elwell and his men would talk to their illegal neighbors and ASK them to drop the names of the person or persons who'd sold them the property. Still, they would bring their small arms along just in case these newcomers were uncooperative.
So, strapped with gas-operated M-1 Garand rifles, the equitable man and his group advanced towards the house on Rose Ridge. When they traversed about forty feet from the dwelling, a shot was fired at them. Elwell and his men, of course, reacted to this by storming the domicile. And with a united front of muscular bodies, they rammed open the barred door.
What they found inside was not at all what they had expected.
Five dead bodies were aligned on the living room floor. The skin on these corpses was livid, their wounds (gunshots to the cranium) a purplish-black color. All of their heads were turned at odd angles because apparently the backs of the skulls had been blown away. Upon entering further into the house, Elwell and his men drew in a noseful of fetid air. Two members of the equitable men's group were soon bent over in spasms of retching.
The only discovered survivor — who'd apparently exhausted the last of his ammo firing at Elwell's band — sat crouched in the far left corner of the living room. It was a husky blond strong-looking young man. Though his voice was as deep as a man's and he stood over six feet tall in his sheer socks, Elwell could see that this youth wasn't nearly as old as his size would indicate.
The equitable man put his gun down. The youth didn't look well — he was sweating something fierce and there were these red blotches decorating his very fair complexion.
"What happened to your kin here?" Elwell asked, motioning towards the grouping of dead bodies.
He prodded the limp, lifeless foot of the biggest corpse.
The blond youth responded to this question by grasping his rifle like a club and taking mean-spirited swipes at the equitable man. The youth tried everything he could to hit Elwell — which surely would have been a fatal mistake for the husky blond if he had. Elwell didn't much care for bloodshed, but he was indeed capable of snapping the neck of this youth if he had to. He decided to end this battle as quickly as he could.
Using his own rifle as a club, Elwell swung the stock into the youth's face. Blood poured from a split on his adversary's sweaty forehead. The young man backed away a bit, but continued to struggle. Elwell was still holding his riffle. He hit the youth once on the back of his blond head and the struggling ended.
The young man staggered, close to falling, so Elwell took his arm and practically shoved him towards the sofa. The equitable man's companions were already outside digging graves. Not out of any reverence for the five dead immigrants cluttering up the living room, but because they knew of the health risks that would arise if the corpses were left to rot out in the open. They did, however, have enough respect for the deceased to dig five individual graves instead of a single mass one.
"What's your name?" Elwell asked the blond youth.
"Viktor," the young man replied with a marked European accent, "Viktor Lindegren."
'A Swede', the equitable man thought to himself,
"What the hell happened here?"
Viktor spat at Elwell.
The equitable man's large fists clenched automatically, but he held himself in check,
"Who massacred these people?"
Viktor cursed Elwell out in a foreign tongue, and then spat at him again.
"You know, I'm gettin' mighty sick o' yo' attitude, boy. I've taken all I'm going to take from the white folks who already been livin' in this country for a couple of hundred years. I'll be damned if I take shit from you fool newcomers...."
"Then kill me! Kill me! My family is dead, and now I have nothing ... and no one! So kill me! KILL ME!"
The young man, weeping furiously now, stamped his big sheer-socked feet and clutched at his blond hair in anguish.
"Tell me what happened here, Viktor," Elwell said with a noticeable timbre of tenderness in his voice now, "Who killed your people?"
And a sobbing Viktor relayed a very grim tale. The very same white people who'd sold them the property had murdered his family. It seems that, not long after their arrival in the States, Viktor's family contracted some sort of illness. This illness had not manifested itself while his father was signing the first set of papers that would give him ownership of the surrounding acreage, but it was in full bloom by the time the family was ensconced in their newly built cabin on Rose Ridge.
That was when the men who'd sold them the property showed up to finalize the deal.
"But when they came, they saw that my family was sick ... and they became very frightened," Viktor said, speaking almost in monotone now, "They immediately grabbed their rifles and ... and ... shot my family. I do not know why I was spared, but I managed to hide in the cellar. I believe that those men were so afraid of catching whatever had befallen my family that they simply forgot about me."
"I think his family had the pox," James Downs, a member of Elwell's band said.
Then he pointed his rifle directly at Viktor,
"And I think he's carrying it right now too."
Viktor's blue eyes grew wide, and he trembled violently.
"Put that away, James," Elwell ordered sternly.
He handed Viktor a bandanna so that the youth could staunch the flow of blood trickling down from the cut on his forehead,
"If this boy does have the pox, it certainly isn't the fatal kind. He probably has what is called the 'variola minor', which only gives its victim a fever and rash. Apparently the fools who massacred Viktor's kin weren't aware that there are milder, non-lethal strains of the sickness."
James Downs nodded, but it was clear that he still felt he should shoot the blond youth just to be on the safe side.
But Elwell told his reactionary friend to get any thoughts of harming the boy out of his head. And even as the equitable man defended Viktor from Downs, the equitable man's mind was focused intently on the blond young man's feet.
Elwell Stone had always been attracted to male socked feet, but never in such an overt, sexual way as right now. He realized that the reason for this had to do with the type of socks this young Swede was wearing. They were sheer enough for him to spy the boy's fair-skinned feet through the material ... but not the toes, for the toe-areas of these socks were reinforced with a thicker material.
These socks were so fascinating! The socks Elwell was used to seeing were thick woolly socks. These black gossamer-like things were a new experience for him. A totally new, exciting experience.
In fact, Viktor himself was a rather new experience for equitable Elwell.
This blond youth had a large brawny body, and big feet. As the boy sat there trembling with fear, the equitable man tried his best not to stare at his young toes wriggling in his dark, sheer socks. Elwell, who prided himself on his heightened senses, even used his nose to catch the scent of Viktor's sweaty, socked feet.
And as he subtly sniffed, his mind harbored thoughts of kneeling before the boy and burying his nose in the bottom of the young blond's smelly sheer socks. His penis, of course, became rock hard as a result of these thoughts ... plus the smell his sharp nose detected was adding to the sexual heat in his blood.
Yes, the combination of the smell and the sight was too much for Elwell.
Young Viktor had large wide feet ... feet that the equitable man imagined would be a joy to touch. His mind conjured thoughts of being able to rub the head of his penis with the socked sole of one. He even imagined lying before the boy so that the young blond could rub those sheer-socked feet between his legs and on his penis.
The equitable man shook these thoughts from his head ... and prayed that none of his compatriots noticed the bulge in his crotch as he ordered the lot of them to complete the task of properly interring the blond boy's kin.
And after overseeing the burial of Viktor's family, Elwell and his group prepared to depart.
"I heard the men who killed my family talking. They said that, tomorrow, they would make sure that the illness would not spread beyond the area by burning down this cabin. Please do not leave me here all alone."
Tears were streaming down Viktor's ruddy cheeks.
Elwell's companions laughed hardily. Not out of pure meanness, but out of amusement. Imagine, a man as big as Viktor weeping like a woman.
Elwell, who was not laughing, looked closely at the blond youth,
"How old are you, Viktor?"
And Viktor told them.
Elwell's companions stopped laughing and sort of gasped. The people of Sweden certainly grew their boys big!
"Please do not leave me here all alone," Viktor repeated.
Elwell glanced back at his men. With the exception of James Downs, they all had compassionate expressions on their dark brown faces now. He turned to the blond youth.
"All right, Viktor, you come along with us. You will call me Mr. Stone, understand? These men you see here are Mr. Potter, Mr. Downs, and Mr. Givens. When we reach my home you shall refer to the older gentleman residing there as either Mr. Mason or simply 'sir'. My wife is Mrs. Stone to you, and my daughter is Ida. Do you understand everything?"
"Yes, Mr. Stone. I understand everything."
"Good. Then let's be off."
The men left Rose Ridge, but camped on its outskirts to see if the scoundrels who killed Viktor's parents would indeed return to the cabin. They didn't. And that was a good thing ... for returning would have been fatal to them. Elwell and his compatriots guarded their lands jealously, and no one of any color would be allowed to murder innocents in their territory without dire consequences resulting.
So, deciding to relax, Elwell Stone and the others (including young Viktor) brought out the moonshine and drank their fill. Downs, Potter and Givens were the first to drop off into an intoxicated slumber. But Elwell and Viktor didn't drink as much as the others — Elwell because he valued control of his facilities in all situations, Viktor because the first swallow of the mysterious 'moonshine' had burned his throat.
Still the boy had consumed enough alcohol to prompt him into doing things he never would do normally.
The first thing he did was stroll over to where Elwell Stone sat impassively stoking the fire they'd built for their campsite.
"My father ordered them from New Orleans," the boy told the equitable man out of the clear blue sky.
"Boy, what are you talkin' 'bout?" A perplexed Elwell asked.
The equitable man had stripped down to his summerjohns, so heated was he by the amount of moonshine he HAD consumed.
"My socks," Viktor replied, pointing down at his lower extremities.
The boy had taken off his boots and was currently standing before the equitable man in his sheer sock-clad feet,
"These sheer kind my father orders special from New Orleans because I am allergic to wool socks."
"Interestin'," Elwell replied sarcastically — attempting to pretend that he wasn't fascinated by the boy's sock-clad feet or the story behind them, "But why are you tellin' me all this?"
"Because I can tell you like them," the boy replied quickly. "Back in Trollhattan my father's co-worker at the dried fish processing plant was 'fond' of secretly playing with my feet when they are clothed in socks like these ... you feel the same way, don't you, sir?"
And Elwell, seeing that his other companions were in a deep intoxicated slumber, decided that he wasn't going to lie to the boy. He looked Viktor squarely in his blue eyes and told the blond boy that he had never seen sheer socked feet ... and that the very sight of them stirred bewildering feelings within him.
Viktor responded to Elwell's frank revelation by taking one his big foot and rubbing it up and down the equitable man's legs. The sheer nylon material rubbing against Elwell's legs was fantastic and caused the man's extensive penis to make a tent in his summerjohns.
Viktor then moved one of his feet towards the equitable man's crotch and sought out his massive balls. The blond young man moved the other foot to Elwell's waistband ... the man's penis is caught in between. It is straining against the material of his johns.
Victor's sheer-socked foot is playing with the equitable man's balls inside while his other foot is stroking his penis outside. The swishing sound of the sheer material against summerjohn material sounds heavenly. Precum begins to flow and make the material surrounding his crotch wet. Viktor removes his foot from Elwell's penis.
The equitable man then strips himself naked. He then lies prone on the ground before the boy, his throbbing erection pointing upward.
Within moments both of Viktor's sheer-socked feet are right back at Elwell's genitals. One foot playing with his balls the other foot playing with his immense penis. The young Swede rubbed his stockinged toes over the equitable man's hard penis head. The material of the boy's reinforced toes gets wet with more of the man's precum.
Viktor then pushed his toes into Elwell's mouth — practically forcing him to suck his sweaty toes. The equitable man held the boy's foot and caressed it. The material is so delicate ... so sheer ... so EXCITING! Elwell licked the blond youth's foot, most notably his toes. Viktor sat on the ground and moved his foot back to the man's extensive penis and rubbed it again. He then placed one foot under Elwell's penis and the other on top, sandwiching it.
With his manhood ensconced between the blond youth's sheer-socked feet, the equitable man moans in blissful ecstasy. Viktor continues to rub the penis back and forth over and over and over again. Elwell eventually erupts, cumming on the boy's feet. The equitable man cums in rope-like wads all over Viktor's feet — the youth's sheer socks drenched in Elwell's semen.
Once he recovers the equitable man leans down and rolls the boy's sheer socks down to his ankles. Then he takes them off Viktor's big feet. Holding one cum-soaked sock in each hand, he rubs the blond lad's male-nipples. He wipes his semen on Viktor's chest while working the cum from the toes onto his nipples.
The boy's male-nips actually become stiff and taut. Elwell places the toe of each sock over a nipple so that they're covered. The sexually-charged equitable man then leans down to lick and suck Viktor's rose-colored nipples through the wet socks. By now the boy is just as excited as the man. With each lick, with each suck Viktor became more consumed with carnal lust.
Eventually the equitable man takes the sock tops in his hand and moves the blond youth's summerjohn-clad genitals with them. Elwell played with Viktor's balls with his blunt fingers and the material from the socks. He fondles, tugs and tweaks them until the boy begins to moan.
The equitable man then takes the material from the sock tops and pushes it over the boy's throbbing erect penis. This was soon followed up with Elwell pumping the boy's now sheer-clad penis. And as he does this he continues to suck Viktor's nipples through his cum stained socks while masturbating him with the stockings tops. Soon the blond youth came.
Viktor moans loudly and almost screamed as he orgasms. He soaks his sheer socks with his semen.
Without saying a word (and with the unspoken understanding that what had just occurred was not to be discussed the next morning), both the equitable man and blond boy lay back down amongst their slumbering companions and drifted off to sleep themselves.
Young Ida Stone awoke and, as usual, found herself staring up at a ceiling that looked so far away it may as well have been an artificial sky. Climbing out of bed and padding from her room, the dauntless girl was pulled like a magnet towards the smell of her mother's cornbread hotcakes.
She paused in the hallway upon spotting something rather odd. Beyond the hall was the living room ... and from where she stood, she could see the foot of the rollaway guest bed and two big, white, bare feet almost hanging off of it.
She walked tentatively into the living room and her eyes virtually popped at the sight of the husky white man sprawled in sleep. She rushed into the kitchen to get her thousand-and-one-questions answered. As she ate breakfast, her mother and father filled her in on the details concerning the young man known as Viktor Lindegren.
Her experience at meeting the 'real' Viktor was delayed because he was sick — mostly all she saw at first was a profusely sweating youth who mumbled and cried-out in his sleep. The blond youth's illness wasn't too serious, but Ida's mother — Faith Naomi Stone — practically prepped him for surgery. Which was just fine with Viktor who was too delirious with fever to really protest the responsive woman's solicitousness.
Ida's mother liked Viktor and immediately took him to her heart, for he was still a youngish child who had tragically lost his mother. Faith Stone also lavished attention on the boy because — as most everyone knows — a woman with no sons of her own has a tendency to spoil somebody else's. This natural law did not change just because Viktor was a mostly-grown, blond and blue-eyed Swedish immigrant.
And whenever Faith wasn't hovering over Viktor during the course of his illness, Ida was there to pick up the slack.
One very warm day, the dauntless girl — after watching the blond youth toss and turn in a fitful sleep for about an hour — made her way to the kitchen. She dampened a washcloth, returned to the living room and carefully placed it across Viktor's forehead.
"How's that?" She asked him.
"Wonderful," Viktor sighed.
Then he reached out to pat the girl's hand,
"You would make a great doctor."
The thought made Ida smile because her hero was Mary E. Britton, the first Colored female doctor in the city of Lexington. Viktor was always doing things like that — making her feel good without even half trying. The two of them were always fooling around together, and their antics amused the girl's parents very much. Until one particular night.
It was almost midnight one Thursday. Viktor, who couldn't sleep (because he'd slept feverishly during most of that day), was invited into Ida's room by the girl herself. It seemed that she was also having trouble sleeping.
Usually she would stave off her insomnia by building castles and such with the wooden blocks that her maternal grandfather, Moses Mason, had made for her. Or she'd blab her innermost secrets to her teddy bear, Winston, all night. But now that there was a living, breathing person awake to pass the lonely hours with....
Sitting on the edge of her bed, Viktor spoke of his only sister who had been around Ida's age when she died two years earlier. She was taken from him after a very difficult childbirth. Poor Viktor had been at her bedside when she died, and he had passed out cold upon witnessing the drawing of her final breath.
"I had forgotten what it was like to have a little sister," he told Ida evenly. "Until I came here."
And the little girl was mature enough to be touched by this. She and Viktor spoke at length about so many serious topics that night, but it wasn't long before he was lightening her mood by tickling her feet, and her girlish ribs, and her neck — the things he had done with his own deceased sister.
"Oh, stop it, Viktor!" Ida yelled, giggling hysterically as the blond youth wiggled his fingers beneath her rib cage. "Oh, stop it! Haaaaaaeeee!"
Viktor was about start in on tickling the backs of the little girl's knees when both he and Ida became aware that they weren't alone in the bedroom. They turned and saw that Elwell Stone was standing silently in the room's doorway with his arms folded and his jaw hard.
"I think it's time for you to go to sleep now, Ida." He said flatly.
Ida saw that Viktor was about to say something (perhaps apologize for being the cause of all the noise), but somehow the blond youth sensed, as she did, that her father was currently in no mood for apologies or explanations. Viktor rather hurriedly padded back to the living room.
Elwell Stone glared at his daughter for a long moment. Ida wasn't sure what she saw in his dark eyes. She had no idea that her father had been hardened enough by the world to doubt that a male and female could be on the same bed together without either having thoughts of taking liberties with one another. The dauntless girl assumed that her father was only angry because she and Viktor had been making a ruckus at such a late hour.
Once he departed his daughter's room, Elwell slowly made his way to the living room. Viktor was waiting for him with a contrite look on his rosy-cheeked face,
"I am sorry, Mr. Stone. I...."
Before he could finish, Elwell's expression suddenly contorted with cold rage and he plowed the blond youth's face with his huge, meaty first.
Viktor's body slammed harshly against the opposite wall, shaking the entire house. He then slid slowly down to the floor, unconscious.
And soon the brawny blond-haired boy was slung over the equitable man's shoulders like a sack of grain. Then he dumped young Viktor Lindegren on the sofa. For a long while his gaze rested on the young Swede who lay stretched out in only a nightshirt and his wonderful sheer socks.
Elwell Stone shook his head as a shameful desire filled him. He couldn't resist going forward with his heart's desire. As much as he wanted to turn and leave, he couldn't resist taking advantage of Viktor's vulnerability. And vulnerable he was. He was unconscious. His feet could be taken advantage of without anyone, the boy included, being aware of it.
So Elwell took hold the senseless boy's big sheer-socked feet and began sucking his toes. He then licked Viktor's wide soles through the thin material before licking the unconscious youth's calves and up to his inner thighs.
The equitable man loved the salty taste of the smooth pale skin and the longer he licked the more his penis throbbed beneath his clothing. Elwell didn't stop his oral ministration of the boy's feet until he came in his trousers without having even touched his own penis!
Viktor worked hard during the next few weeks. Moses Mason — Ida's maternal grandfather — needed an assistant, and he didn't much care if the assistant was whiter than the krauts who'd tried to castrate him on more than one occasion during the Great War.
While Elwell and the others tended the crops, Viktor and Mason did the frequent odd jobs that needed doing around a town that was still in the process of building itself up. They cleaned up the yards of newly constructed, but uninhabited homes, and covered an acre of shrubbery in burlap. They repaired fences and sometimes even built them from scratch. They made a good team.
The blond youth remembered when the old man had first met him. Moses Mason had been sanding an unruly plank of lumber, and Viktor — without even being asked — crouched down and held the board steady.
The old man grunted his thanks and, after a while, began to converse with Viktor without really looking at him while he worked. He recounted old army tales, and adventures he'd had in his youth with loose women from all over two continents. His storytelling was ribald and over the top in it's vulgarity.
"I'm tellin' you, though I got my share of pussy in the war, 1897 was the year I damn-near sowed ALL my wild oats! The women seemed to have a lot more junk in their trunks in them days. Man, there was this blues-singin' gal down in St. Louis who had the finest caboose you'd ever seen!"
Viktor was both fascinated and puzzled because he wasn't sure if he was hearing the old man correctly. A racially oppressive country like the United States had actually allowed a Colored woman to own a railroad back in the late 1800's?
"Who'd you first lay your pipe with, son?" Mason, still sanding away, had asked Viktor.
The blond youth was lost,
"I do not lay pipe, sir. I work fairly well with my hands, but I know almost nothing about plumbing."
The old man glanced over at Viktor for the first time and was momentarily startled because he clearly hadn't realized he'd been conversing with what he thought was a white MAN. Then he resumed his sanding and said,
"No, no, son. What I mean is, who'd you first do the do with?"
"Do the do?"
Moses Mason stopped sanding and stared at Viktor intently,
"You ain't nuthin' but a kid, huh?"
The blond youth flushed a rosy pink and told the old man his age,
"I will finally be getting my man's growth on my face any day now I hope!"
"Lord," Moses Mason muttered again, then continued sanding.
Back at the homestead the blond youth had made frantic attempts at convincing Elwell that he had not meant Ida any harm that terrible night when the equitable man had punched him out. And, finally, Elwell began to believe him. After all, if Viktor had truly been up to something untoward with Ida that night, he certainly would not have made as much noise as he had!
Still, Elwell couldn't quite avoid feeling this new unreasonable dislike for young Viktor.
And the husky youth became aware that, though he'd been forgiven for his thoughtless actions that particular night, Elwell Stone still found it hard to remain civil around him. This fact was never more evident than when the equitable man joined Viktor and Mr. Mason in performing some task.
Whenever the blond youth did something wrong, Elwell would punch him. And Viktor did so many things that the equitable man didn't like that — on several nights — the youth would go to bed with a half-dozen bruises.
Not that there weren't any fun times. With no other young people within close proximity of the Stone's farm, Ida and Viktor (when he wasn't working) had to keep each other company. The two of them looked incredibly odd while at play together — not because Viktor was white, but because he was so darn BIG!
The husky blond youth and the short, slight girl would romp in the dust for hours until Mrs. Faith Stone called them in for supper. Before romping Viktor would take off his sheer socks and leave them someplace where they would easily be found by Elwell ... for he knew how much the equitable man 'enjoyed' them. Plus he hoped that freely giving the man his soiled socks would lend him more favor in Elwell's mind.
So when Viktor frolicked with Ida he was usually barefoot. In fact, both he and the dauntless girl were allowed to go barefoot even after bath-time so long as they re-cleansed their feet before climbing into their beds for the night. These were sweet, innocent days for young Viktor Lindegren.
They were also sweet days for the man who had become Viktor's benefactor, for Elwell had amassed quite a collection of Viktor's sweaty socks by this time. Sheer socks taken from the blond boy at various times through the months.
When the equitable wasn't ordering the boy more socks from New Orleans, he was stealing them from Viktor after the blond lad had worn them to the point where they were very smelly.
This father/son relationship began to change when Viktor began to comment on how beautiful some of the young ladies of Millview were. The young blond Swede even began to toy with the idea of courting some of the town's female denizens.
These notions did not sit too well with Elwell Stone. Friends assumed that the man's distaste over the boy's desires stemmed from the belief that Elwell didn't like the idea of the young Swede 'cavorting intimately' with the Colored girls of Millview. But in truth this wasn't the reason at all.
The truth was that Elwell had been under the impression that the blond boy, despite the fact that he presented a very masculine image, was not sexually 'inclined' towards women. And this impression was a HUGE factor in Elwell's decision to allow young Viktor (who had been a complete stranger) to reside at his home ... and around his young daughter.
Now, realizing that the blond youth craved the same things as all TRUE men do, Elwell's perception of him was somewhat altered. And his changed perception became clear to everyone when he insisted that the blond boy sleep out in the barn!
"It won't be so bad." Elwell told him, "You an' Ida have slept in there just for fun on more than one occasion."
"But that was during the summertime, Mr. Stone," Viktor replied with pleading blue eyes.
He couldn't understand why he was being unjustly punished, and Elwell had severely warned him never to question a direct order,
"I do not wish to sleep in that place with all those mice while it is freezing cold."
Elwell's response was colder than cold,
"Well that's damned unfortunate, boy ... 'cause that's just what you're going to do."
So Viktor would spend his nights in the barn with the livestock. He was still allowed in the house for meals, and he made the most of the time he had while residing there. Once he came to the house early after completing the chores he performed around town. Faith and Ida were more than a little surprised to see him come through the door before nightfall ... and without Elwell and old Moses leading the way.
"Mr. Stone and Mr. Mason are meeting with the heads of the area's Pentecostal Church. Since I would just be in the way at such proceedings, Mr. Stone allowed me to return home early so I can get started on rebuilding the pig troughs."
"Mighty considerate of him," Faith Stone muttered with maternal concern.
In vain she had verbally protested her husband's treatment of Viktor,
"Sit down and I'll heat you up some stew."
James Downs, a friend of Elwell Stone, did not like Viktor Lindegren.
He had a particular reason to hate the blond youth other than the obvious one. You see, James had a younger brother who'd perished at the hands of people who were of Viktor's persuasion.
And Timothy Downs hadn't been just any brother. He had been a kind, gentle, soft-spoken young man — the exact opposite of roughneck James. Timothy being struck by an automobile driven by a white person had been an accident, but the delay by other white folks in phoning for an ambulance
Elwell had lots of opportunities to indulge himself with the lad's sheer socks. He used to offer to do the wash only for the reason of being left alone to investigate the dirty laundry ... and the socks from Viktor's size fourteen feet. As soon as he was alone in the house he would seek out the blond youth's sheer socks.
More often than not (because his wife treated socks as if they were infected with the Typhoid virus) he would locate a freshly worn pair located just a little bit apart from the pile of other clothing ... and thrown on a pile that consisted only of socks.
They were always damp, smelly and VERY soft. The equitable man would spend the next hour with his trousers down stroking his penis with Viktor's socks. He would pull them over his penis so that the head was in the reinforced toe, and slowly stroke his shaft.
If he was lucky enough to do the wash on the days his wife piled ALL of Viktor's socks into a single pile, Elwell would be in heaven. He would bury his face into the pile of sweaty sheers while pumping his penis with the softest ones.
But what the equitable man really wanted to do was have his way with the sheer socks while they were still on the blond youth's feet. Elwell recalled the last intimate encounter he'd had with Viktor in such a way (the ONLY time he'd had such an encounter with the boy), which occurred on the very day the equitable man and his friends had found the young Swede at the little cottage out on Rose Ridge. He remembered how the warm, sweaty, size fourteen sheer-socked foot had pushed his legs apart and fondled his penis and balls until he drenched them with cum.
But Viktor had become something of a son in his home by now. And a father just didn't do those things with his son.
"Why are you so hateful?" his wife had once asked him.
James Downs turned to lie back on the bed, tucking his hands beneath his head.
"Well, something happened long ago."
He had never told the story to anyone, not even to his wife, and he really didn't know where to start, or even if he wanted to. For some unknown reason, he felt a compelling need to tell SOMEONE about his past and he found himself on the edge of telling the story that had changed his life forever,
"My brother was murdered in Dickens County when I was seventeen and the cops in my hometown didn't do too much to investigate his death. They say that his death had been an accident, but everyone knew it had been deliberate. Cruel, evil and deliberate."
James Downs would never forgive those monsters in Dickens County ... or any white folks for that matter. When he had moved to Millview Pennsylvania he thought he'd seen the last of their smirking pale faces. He dreaded the day that he, Elwell Stone and the others had stumbled upon the blond youth in that cabin up on Rose Ridge.
He was even vexed with Elwell Stone for actually allowing the blond-haired creature to reside at his home. So it wasn't long before the vengeful roughneck began to devise vile schemes to rid Millview of Viktor Lindegren's presence.
He started by making his way over to Elwell's house one afternoon. Upon arriving, the first thing he saw was Viktor and old Moses Mason hammering and sawing around the hog pen.
"Hey, I lost my pocket watch around here yesterday," the old man told the blond youth while they worked. "So keep your eyes peeled for it."
Viktor was horrified,
"Do WHAT with my eyes, sir?"
Moses Mason stopped hammering and just stared at the blond youth. Then he started laughing. Laughing so hard that he nearly lost his dentures.
And Viktor just smiled. He clearly had no idea what Moses thought was so funny, but he was pleased with himself for having won laughter from the usually taciturn old man.
James, who was watching all this from a short distance, felt nauseous.
He made his way over to the old man and the youth and suggested that they all take a break together down at the Pig-Eating Panther (Millview's only bar and grill). Viktor — who was thrilled by the prospect of engaging in such a manly ritual — readily agreed ... as did Moses Mason.
So off they went. And by the end of the day, the old man was so drunk that James had to carry him home. Viktor was pretty crocked himself, but he was still able to walk.
And walk he did ... right down the path leading to Elwell Stone's house.
The equitable man and his wife were away for a two-day 'break' in the town of Copeland. The only people home was young Ida and Miss Buttermaker, an elderly woman who often visited the Stone family merely for the purpose of flirting with old Moses.
When Ida was a child Miss Buttermaker used to baby-sit her. The Stone's didn't trust their daughter's welfare to semi-senile Moses Mason. But James Downs knew for a fact Moses hadn't been the least bit senile — it was only an act because the thought of having a child depend on him was terrifying to the old man.
'I know as much about kids as I do about cookin',' Moses used to say on several occasions back then, 'And you know I'm the guy that deep-fries raisin bran!' The old man considered Ida too precious to be cared for by someone as careless as he imagined himself to be.
The roughneck man put thoughts of the past from his mind. Right now he had to concentrate on ruining Viktor Lindegren's future....
"Why don't you go show Ida your new dance-steps," James — who hadn't touched a drop of liquor all day — suggested to Viktor. "Man, you was a regular Fred Astaire at the bar!"
The blond youth flushed with pride as he and the roughneck traversed towards the Stone home.
James chuckled evilly to himself as he watched Viktor stumble into the dwelling. Old Miss Buttermaker was asleep in the rocker by the fireplace and wouldn't have awakened if her britches were set afire.
The roughneck man remained outside, but he peered through a window so that he could continue to watch everything going on within the dwelling.
Ida was upset to see Viktor so drunk, but she was rather amused as well. He looked so FUNNY as he dizzily stumbled about.
At the far right corner of the living room, an old phonograph was playing Bessie's Smith's 'Cold in Hand Blues'. Viktor, prompted by a sudden need to trip the lights fantastic like he had at the bar, turned to Ida and slurred,
"You wanna dance?"
"Not while you got them big ole boots on!" Ida replied.
So the blond youth sat down on the sofa and used a bootjack to pry off his leather size-fourteens. Then he padded over to Ida and slipped his arm around her waist. The girl, in turn, strained to place her right hand on his broad shoulder.
Then they danced. It was a rather clumsy waltz — Ida spent most of her time trying to keep her feet from being stepped on by Viktor's. Though the blond youth was only wearing his sheer socks now, he still had feet as big as her father's. Viktor sang off-key with the record.
Outside of the house, Elwell and Faith were just arriving home. James was eager to lead the couple over to the living room window so that they could witness what he called the 'strange happenings' going on inside.
After glancing through the window for a mere two seconds, Elwell Stone rushed to the front door of his home, threw it open, and was immediately assaulted by the smell of alcohol wafting through the air. Alcohol that was emanating off Viktor Lindegren. The equitable man watched with blazing eyes as the blond young man tightened his grip around his daughter's lithe waist and swung her through the air.
Wordlessly, the enraged equitable clasped his huge hands together and raised them like lethal clubs ... then he smashed them down on Viktor's blond head. The stunned Swedish youth swayed a bit, and Elwell struck him again. This time Viktor Lindegren's heavy, unconscious body flopped atop a screaming Ida.
Despite tearful, hysterical protests from both his wife and daughter, Elwell — with the EAGER assistance of a smirking James Downs — dragged Viktor's senseless form towards a nondescript location in the woods.
But being too much of a coward to actually witness the inevitable execution of the young Swede, James informed Elwell that the time had come for him to depart. Elwell, however, insisted that the roughneck wait around with him until Viktor regained consciousness.
And when the blond youth's senses did return, Elwell made James accuse Viktor to his face. The roughneck had not counted on having to do this. Still, he hardened his deceitful heart and treacherously bore false witness against the blond young man — spouted filthy lies about Viktor's subtle attempts to glean carnal knowledge of young Ida Stone.
"It is not true, Mr. Stone!" the brawny blond youth yelled, "I ... I love Ida like my own sister! I would never...."
Elwell caught the youth by the shoulder and plowed his huge fist into the youth's jaw. Viktor, stunned by the pain, hung limp in the equitable man's grip. He never even saw the second punch coming. Elwell then released Viktor's unconscious body, where it crashed to the ground with a dead-weight thud.
Then he and James set to work, rolling the blond youth back and forth as they struggled to remove his shirt, pants, socks and underwear. The shirt stank loudly of the corn liquor the husky boy had drank that evening.
They then bound the unconscious young man to a tree and forced him awake by peeing in his face. Then, after verbally abusing the boy and assaulting him with details of his inevitable execution, James Down departed the woods, leaving Elwell alone with their prisoner. He left Elwell alone with the blond youth for several days.
And it was during these days that the equitable man had his fun....
Elwell would do so by taking a pair of sheer socks (ordered by mail all the way from New Orleans) and ordering Viktor to wear them each day. And after untying the blond youth Elwell would — at gunpoint — order the young Swede to run in circles around the tree he was normally tied against.
After enough sweat was built up, Elwell would knock the boy senseless with the butt of his revolver before retying the lad's limp body to the tree. Then he would remove the sweaty sheer socks from Viktor's feet and sniff one to his heart's content.
And once the lad regained consciousness, the equitable man would stuff the other sweaty, foul sock into Viktor's mouth ... then use the one he himself had been sniffing as a gag-tie ... effectively forcing the boy to keep his own sweaty sheer sock in his mouth throughout the night.
This pattern went on for days. The blond youth would be forced to run in circles to stink up his sheer socks ... then he would spend a whole night with one of these socks in his mouth, tasting his own foot sweat.
Unlike Elwell, Viktor did NOT like the taste of his own sweat. Whenever the youth was disobedient, the equitable man just THREATENED to put the nasty socks into his mouth for a whole day. This forced the young Swede to adjust his attitude more than a little bit
On some days, however, the equitable man would not force the boy to run around the tree. No, on these days Elwell would merely strip himself naked and use his prisoner for OTHER things.
He would place a pair sheer socks on the boy (who would still be bound to the tree) before demanding that the blond Swede pleasure him with his feet. And Elwell's erection would throb as he bent to his task of messaging the Swedish lad's feet in preparation for forcing the youth to perform a great task of his own.
And the task was a decidedly untoward one.
The equitable man would lift Viktor's foot and placed it on his lap so he could work on the boy's calf better. His manipulation of the youth's calf muscles purposely caused Viktor's foot to grind into his groin ... and Elwell's penis throbbed hotly as the lad put more pressure down on his foot.
After a barking order from the equitable man, Viktor's toes began to explore Elwell's penis — pulling at his coarse pubic hair and almost inspiring the man to ejaculate.
When the blond boy's toes gripped his ball-sack, Elwell just hung onto his leg as the waves of carnal pleasure swept over him. His hands crept between his thighs and carefully fondled the boy's sheer-socked-clad foot as it slowly ground his penis.
The blond prisoner was so aware that he could be killed at any moment that he never once hurt Elwell Stone ... just continually kept increasing the pleasure as the equitable man fucked his socked sole. And Viktor would take his spit-laved foot and massage Elwell's penis until an ejaculation ensued.
Yes, the secret nights Elwell spent treating Viktor like a lowly slave was most satisfying.
But eventually James Downs began to wonder why Elwell was postponing Viktor's execution. He also began to question what the equitable man was doing when he would secretly venture out ALONE into the woods to visit their bound prisoner. And to placate his friend's blood-thirsty (and suspicious) nature, Elwell allowed James to brutally beat the young blond Swede.
Once Viktor was thrashed unconscious, the two man dragged his body to a dank-smelling abandoned shaft. Then, without a word passing between them, the blond youth was dropped into it like a sack of potatoes.
In his unconscious state his mind wandered. It wandered beyond the dank darkness of the shaft. Wandered back through time. Back to the day his family got word that his brother Lars was dead.
The scholarly blond giant was humungous and muscular, but not much of a fighter. He was known to get into mild scrapes at the tavern he frequented and, when he failed to return home for two whole days, most of the family wondered if he'd gotten into a fight and paid the ultimate price.
Eventually the young man's nude, muscular body was found stuffed in the trunk of a car parked in some Ephrata Pennsylvania woods on the third day since his disappearance. Because there wasn't a mark on him besides some light bruising, no one was sure how the young man had died.
Then the letter was found wedged in the cheeks of his posterior. The note that read:
As Viktor lay helplessly at the bottom of the shaft, his semi-conscious mind was certain that he would be joining his slain brothers in death fairly soon.
Elwell Stone would often leave his family for two hours at a time to roam the deep woods beyond his homestead alone.
It was at these times that the equitable man would return to the abandoned shaft where the youth known as Viktor Lindegren was being held prisoner. There he would render the young Swede unconscious, carry him from his dank prison. He had no intention of allowing Viktor to go free rather he intended to 'use' the blond youth for a while before casting him back into the shaft.
Viktor, regaining consciousness, was dressed in his sheer socks and nothing else. He awoke to find that his arms were currently stretched above him, attached to the overhanging limb of the tree that Elwell Stone had bound him to with strong cotton rope. He also discovered that his sheer-socked feet were bound together by several feet of cotton rope as well. The youth's blond hair was plastered to his forehead with the sweat of terror.
He glanced around frantically when Elwell Stone, without a word, began to crouch down towards his size fourteen feet. Viktor wondered if screaming for help, or pleading with his captor would do any good. It certainly hadn't thus far.
After crouching down Elwell was inches away from a wonderful set of the young Swede's stocking feet. Viktor, thinking that if he pleased his captor he might be released, raised his sheer-socked foot to the equitable man's hungry mouth. Elwell's lips parted as the big toe slid past. He used his tongue on the nylon-clad toe — suckling ardently upon it.
He sucked and licked the toe like it was made of honey. When it was sufficiently moist, the equitable man switched feet and Elwell gobbled up Viktor's second sweaty sheer-socked size fourteen foot. He not only sucked the big toe with wild abandon, his tongue snaked through the other stocking digits, lapping up the sweat between them.
The equitable man's huge penis started to rise. Elwell gently pushed the young Swede's sheer-socked foot deeper in his mouth. Soon only the heel could be seen sticking out. As he licked and sucked, Elwell's hand was busy feeling Viktor's backside — searching for the blond young man's virginal puckered hole. Finding it, the equitable man jammed a finger inside. The young Swede uttered a wild shriek.
He screamed a lot that day before being rendered unconscious and cast back down into the shaft.
Ida learned of Viktor Lindegren's fate the morning after the FIRST night the blond youth had been hurled unmercifully into the abandoned shaft.
The rest of that day, and most of the next one, was spent with the little girl trying desperately to convince her father that nothing had occurred between her and Viktor. But all of her protests and assurances were for naught. Elwell responded to her only by saying,
"You may not have THOUGHT nothing was happening, baby, but it was. Just trust me ... what he was doing was something that only grown folks can see."
Ida (who considered herself 'grown' despite Elwell's flat refusal to view her as thus) still did not understand what her father was getting at, but she absolutely REFUSED to believe that Viktor had done anything wrong other than coming home drunk.
Her grandfather had returned to the house in worse condition and no one had uttered a word of complaint to HIM. There were so many questions she wanted answered. At the top of her list was the current whereabouts of the brawny blond youth. She knew that her father and his friends had Viktor imprisoned somewhere, but that was all.
"Where do you think they're keeping him?" Ida asked her mother who was preparing supper.
"Ask your Grandfather," Faith replied as she continued to methodically baste a roasted duck. "He's the one who's been sneaking Viktor blankets and food."
Ida cast a questioning glance towards the old man who was already seated at the table with a napkin tucked beneath his chin.
"Is that true, Granddaddy?"
"I was ... well, it goes back to my army days. Never did believe in starving' or torturin' the prisoners," Moses mumbled. "Plus it gets pretty cold out in that shaft an' ... well, it just ain't right to...."
"You don't believe that Viktor is guilty either, do you Daddy?" Faith asked, smiling warmly at her father.
"Well, Ida says he wasn't up to no funny business, and I'll take my granddaughter's word over darn-near anybody's!" the old man said passionately. "And Viktor, white as he is, ain't done nuthin' that I can see that would lead anybody to believe he's one of them vile critters who take liberties with a woman's virtue. It's only right that he be judged fairly — as a fellow human being."
His soapbox bellowing fooled neither Ida nor her mother. They were both aware of the simple fact that the old man was quite fond of Viktor. Moses Mason had no sons of his own, and his daughter Faith and her husband were only able to produce a granddaughter for him. Viktor Lindegren, blond as he was, had providentially filled a void within the old man.
Ida certainly was glad that her Grandfather had uttered his blustering little speech, because he had inadvertently (or so she believed) revealed the blond youth's location. After dark, she grabbed a lantern and immediately made her way to the abandoned shaft. She took along Ahern — a gray mare — for a couple of reasons.
When she reached the pit, the little girl immediately attached the end of a length of rope to the horse, and then tossed the other end down to Viktor. The blond youth grabbed it, tied it around himself, and was hauled up from the pit with relative ease by the mare.
Once he was free, Viktor (totally oblivious to the fact that he was naked except for his sheer socks) hugged the young woman exuberantly, but wasted no time in hopping onto the back of the mare and prepared to ride it as far away from Millview as he could.
"Will I ever see you again, Viktor?" Ida asked.
Tears were already streaming down her young face as she handed the blond youth the duffle bag she'd filled with food and his clothes.
"I do not know. But I must leave now. You know of the crimes I have been accused of. If I do not leave now, your father will kill me." Viktor replied, looping the strap of the duffle bag across his shoulder. "There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that he will do it, Ida. He-will-kill-me."
Just then, the sound of shouting could be heard in the distance. It was Elwell Stone, John Downs and Nathan Potter. The trio was quickly advancing towards the area where Ida and Viktor were saying their good-byes.
Without another word, the brawny young man used his sheer-sock-clad heels to spur the horse into action. The mare thundered away from the area, but Viktor — who had almost no experience at riding bareback — was precariously off-balance. The panicked blond youth only traversed about sixty feet away from the shaft before the skittish horse reared up on her hind legs and flung poor Viktor to the ground.
Elwell Stone, who had reached the area by then, ran to the now lifeless-looking young man's side and pressed a finger to his neck in search of a pulse. Viktor now seemed drained of color and his brawny body was absolutely motionless.
Ida, standing off to the side, was afraid that the blond young man was dead, and that she herself was partially responsible. She didn't stop weeping even after Viktor began to moan in pain.
"He's alive," announced Elwell, climbing to his feet.
"Good," replied treacherous John Downs. "Let's throw him back into the shaft."
"No, that's bound to kill him in his current state." Elwell replied.
The equitable man's voice was hard and devoid of emotion,
"I want this bastard to suffer."
Elwell ordered John Downs and Nathan Potter to escort his daughter home while he dealt with the prisoner. And as soon as the two men left with Charity, Elwell bound and gagged Viktor and prepared to deal with him.
And the equitable man dealt with him in a way that gleaned pleasure for both himself AND captive young Viktor.
He slowly sucked and sniffed Viktor's socks, all the while jacking himself. He must have sucked on the young Swede's sheer socks for fifteen minutes or so, and then began working on the blond youth's stocking toes. And to Viktor, captive though he was, the feeling was incredible!
Elwell sucked every nylon-clad toe vigorously, and then began working his tongue in between each toe, cleaning every ounce of the young Swede's sweaty scent from the gauzy fabric of his socks. The delicate, almost-transparent material was like gossamer — and the youth's big, pink feet were visible through it. Viktor's dick was throbbing and he was completely unable to hide it. Elwell's mammoth penis was erected and throbbing as well.
After a few moments the equitable man stepped back and shot his load — a huge load, all over Viktor's sheer-socked size fourteen feet.
By the time John Downs and Nathan Potter returned, neither man took note of the fact that Viktor Lindegren was now barefoot his semen-and-saliva-soaked socks having been removed and pocketed by Elwell Stone.
Viktor was returned to the barn of the Stone home, but in iron manacle chains this time. Ida, of course, was ordered not to enter into the barn — was even severely tongue-lashed by her father for disobeying this command — but she was (as her grandfather often declared with affection) pleasantly stubborn and hardheaded.
Disobeying once again, she made her way out to the barn at almost two in the morning. There she found her friend Viktor half-naked and sprawled in the hay. She sat beside the miserable young man and allowed him to rest his blond head on her lap. The brawny youth didn't speak when Ida began stroking his hair, but the little girl's innocent act of tenderness brought him to tears
Ida Stone, who was all cried out by now, didn't speak either. She merely stroked the blond hair of the anguished head on her lap and listened to Viktor weep. Eventually — after Viktor's tears had thoroughly soaked her nightgown — the youth's grief expended itself and he fell asleep.
When Ida finally made her way back towards the house, she had already devised a new plan to free the blond youth. She knew that, since it was so late, her father had offered to let John Downs spend the night at their place instead of him making the long trek all the way back to his own.
The roughneck was currently sprawled out on the rollaway guest bed in her family's living room. It was the very bed Viktor had occupied back when he was allowed to sleep inside the house — during the pleasant days before everything began to grow wrong.
Once inside her house, the girl didn't sneak back to her bedroom right away. Instead she made her way towards the living room — moving with brisk, purposeful determination — and stood over the rollaway bed. She frowned down at the man lying there. And the angry vibes she was emitting must have permeated John Down's unconscious psyche because he actually woke up.
"Ida? What's going on?" The befuddled roughneck asked, sitting up on the bed.
And Ida laid it right on the line. She told John that she knew that the tales he'd told about Viktor were bald-faced lies. And she warned him that — if he didn't tell everyone the absolute truth — she would tell her father that it was HE, and not Viktor, who had been trying to touch her and fondle her and so forth.
"But that's a lie!"
Ida nodded solemnly,
"Just like all those lies you told about Viktor."
"Those weren't lies, they...."
"Stop it. Nothing you can say is going
to make me believe all that stuff you been telling people. In fact I resent
the fact that people actually believe that I am so naïve that I wouldn't
know if someone was trying to seduce me and so fourth!
Xxxx"Now, are you gonna tell everybody the truth? If you don't I'll tell my Daddy you been trying to do all kinds of nasty stuff ... and he'll believe me 'cause he knows that I don't lie."
"You'd be lying then ... if you told him those things about me." John reasoned.
Ida nodded sagely,
"I know. But I ain't lied in my whole life ... I think I owe myself a few. 'Specially if it'll save Viktor. So what do you say?"
The roughneck sighed resignedly,
"Tomorrow I'll tell your daddy everything."
"Okay." Ida replied, her face as emotionless as her father's ever was.
She glanced over her shoulder as she departed the living room,
"Goodnight, Mr. Downs."
Viktor lay in the smelly hay listening to the sound of tiny, furry creatures stir about him.
The color of the hay in the moonlight reminded him of his twin brothers, Dana and Davin. The nineteen-year-old identical Lindegrins had hair that shown like fired gold. The luminescent hair color they were born with was the same color hair on their heads at the time of their murders.
The story the Lindegrin family told in relation to Dana and Davin's death was filled with lies about angry immigrant haters dragging the twins off to the woods and lynching them as if they were Southern Negroes.
'Lies!' Viktor thought to himself as he lay.
His mother had told him the true story of his identical siblings' demise. The horrible, despicably true story that began when she left the twins alone at home in order to do some shopping for the rest of the afternoon in Ephrata. She was just heading out the door when her two boisterous blond boys rushed into the house after having played a vigorous game of baseball with several other young men in town.
Not wanting to think about the game (their team had lost 4-0) Dana and Davin slowly pulled off their shoes and socks and settled down on the sofa to listen to the radio. The twins admired each other's feet ... no one but the other had feet that looked as well as their own. They became so engrossed in the Burns and Allen radio program that they didn't say goodbye to their mother before she left on her shopping trip.
After George told Gracie to 'say goodnight', the two grew bored with radio ... and it wasn't long before they began to entertain each other.
Dana held both of Davin's bare feet in his hands. He loved his twin brother's feet — they were perfectly shaped and his toenails were immaculately trimmed. The soles were soft and pink and not calloused at all. It was almost as if he'd never gone barefoot in his life. And his feet had a pleasant fragrance — sweaty, but not rank.
Dana smiled and pulled Davin's bare feet onto his lap. He started to slowly massage them. He massaged them until his twin brother actually fell asleep!
Davin awoke up to the deliciously sensual luxury of having his toes licked. He sighed, stretched, and stared down the length of the bed. At the bottom, Dana was lying at his feet, slowly and lovingly sucking his toes. He looked up and smiled a little sheepishly at his twin.
"Feels good," he said.
Dana playfully bit his big toe in response.
He then began gently licking Davin's soft soles. Davin closed his eyes and enjoyed the sensations. His twin brother was kissing his ankles, moving up the insides of his calves, and Davin parted his legs slightly.
Dana spent a wonderful forever between his identical sibling's thighs, teasing and licking and kissing, until Davin was breathing heavily with anticipation.
Then Dana froze.
"Please don't stop," Davin murmured.
But Dana had to stop. You see their mother had returned home unexpectedly and had been watching one twin son lick, kiss and suck the feet of the other for some time!
She declared then and there that both boys had to be punished and punished severely for their deviant ways. And she'd begin with Davin.
He slowly walked over to the end of the large bed, which reached his hips,
"Put your hands on the edge," he heard his mother command him.
Davin started trembling as he placed his hands on the edge of the bed. He could hear his father moving behind him,
"Please dad just leave me alone," Davin begged his father softly his voice also trembling in fear.
"How old are you again Davin?" his mother asked him as her hands started caressing Davin's smooth back and ass.
"I'm nineteen," Davin blinked trying to keep sweat from falling into his eyes.
"Then you should be old enough to know that such behavior is NOT accepted in this household. Not with your own brother ... not with ANY man!"
And with that statement Frigga Lindegrin swung her strap and smacked Davin on the posterior with it, a long red mark instantly appeared on Davin's rump.
Davin cried out in pain and surprise. His mother swung again and this time the belt hit Davin's back hard enough to cause Davin to cry out and arch his back.
"Ouch! Please stop! Mother!"
Only his mother didn't stop; she continued hitting Davin. After the first two strikes Davin tried running away, but his mother had some ropes with her and she quickly tied Davin's wrists to the wooden post holding the canopy above the bed.
Dana watched from the sidelines in horror ... and with more than a little bit of fascination.
After Frigga Lindegrin finished tying her son to the bed she started hitting him with the strap as hard as possible. Davin tried to breathe through the haze of pain and just when he thought he'd black out his mother stopped and untied him, keeping his wrists tied together.
At first Davin thought she was done ... when he was untied him from the bed posts and pushed onto the bed. He lay sprawled on his stomach. It wasn't until he felt his mother climb onto the bed did he realize something didn't feel right and he tried to escape.
His mother quickly captured his bound wrists and tied them to the wooden headboard, with a long piece of rope. She then grabbed Davin by the hips and raised his ass to meet the head of a Coca-Cola bottle!
"What you and your brother were doing ... men who do that make the kind of love that feels like THIS!"
Davin couldn't fight against his mother's hands. Davin started whimpering as he felt the Coke bottle touching his ass hole. He jerked away when he felt a slender finger enter him spreading creamy butter over and in his asshole.
"Please dad don't! Dad stop! Please!" Davin started begging and pleading with his father.
He started crying harder when the finger left him, and he felt the pressure of something too big for his body start to enter him. Davin tried moving away but his father had a good grip on his hips. Frigga Lindegrin finally lost his patience and quickly thrust into the body under him until all nine inches where buried in his son's body.
Meanwhile Dana, still watching the proceedings from the sidelines, was taking a perverse interest in watching his twin brother's incestuous rape. He took so much of a perverse interest that he began to masturbate at the sight of his mother molesting his identical sibling!
In went the Coke bottle.
Davin threw back his blond head and screamed. The pain was much worse than when Dana raped him, but not enough to make him pass out. His mother quickly placed her hand over Davin's mouth, stifling his cries of pain.
Davin started whimpering, as his mother slammed the Coca-Cola bottle into his rump, headless of her son's agony. It seemed like forever before his mother finished and withdrew the bottle from her son. Davin lay where his mother left him, sobbing and wishing he would die.
And he did. What the Lindegrins didn't know was that all of the males in their family had what would come to be known as a 'congenital heart disorder'.
A disorder that sent young Davin into cardiac arrest and then death in just a matter of moments.
But neither Dana nor Mrs. Lindegrin knew that Davin was dead until vomitus and bloody foam began to gurgle from the lifeless twin's still form. He didn't move. Dana began screaming repeatedly,
"You killed him, he's dead, and you killed him!!"
Frigga stood there stunned unable to move, watching as Dana untied his twin and tried to cradle him. He lifted his identical sibling's blond head in his hands. Davin's neck was limp, his blue eyes half open. Sobbing, Dana screamed,
"He's dead, you've killed him!!! You killed my brother!!"
"Dana, I...," his mother began.
"You killed him! Wait until I tell father when he gets home!"
And that was the worst possible thing young Dana could have said, for their was no way on earth Frigga Lindegrin was going to allow her husband to learn that she was responsible for having killed on of his twin sons.
But the only way to make that this secret would be kept was to make sure that BOTH their twin sons were dead.
So Frigga Lindegrin pounced on Dana — sat on his chest and drove her fist in his face repeatedly. As Dana lay on the floor unconscious and bleeding from the mouth and nose, his mother continued the brutal and merciless attack.
The twins' elder sister Nissa, who'd arrived home from fishing at Penns Creek had to finally pull her mother off Dana. They looked down to see that the woman who had given Dana Lindegrin life had also beaten him to death. Beaten the boy almost beyond recognition.
Also, coincidentally, the time span between Davin and Dana's death was almost equal to the duration of time between their births.
As he lay in the smelly hay listening to the sound of tiny, furry creatures stir about him, Viktor recalled how his mother and sister had dragged the twins' bodies into the woods and strung them up to give the appearance that they'd been lynched by hateful strangers.
'Neither Father nor I had caught on.' The blond youth thought to himself, noting that the animals in the nearby stalls were, for the most part, blissfully silent. He continued to lie chained in the hay and wonder how long it would be before he was finally executed. When he could finally re-join the rest of his murdered family in the afterlife.
Just before dawn he heard the barn door open. Then someone was walking towards him ... but their footsteps were too heavy to be Ida's. This person made his way over to Viktor and stood over him, apparently believing that the blond young man was asleep.
'It is John Downs, ' the youth thought with a thrill of fear. 'He has come to finish me off. And with my hands chained behind my back, there is nothing I can do to stop him.'
John knelt down near the brawny youth's blond head ... and he did indeed reach out his arm. But his hand was not curled into a fist — nor was he brandishing a weapon. Instead he rested his hand lightly on Viktor's hair.
"I'm sorry, boy," the roughneck said.
He sounded as close to tears as Viktor had ever heard him,
"It's not your fault my brother's dead, but seeing your white face every day was truly more than I could bear. Seeing someone like you laughing and smiling while poor Timothy lies cold in his grave ... a grave he was placed in because of those damned blue-eyed ... no, I won't travel that route again. Not now."
Viktor was still pretending to be asleep. He wasn't sure if John knew he was awake or not, but the roughneck continued to speak. And the grief in his voice was sincere.
"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry. If I could turn back time and change what I put you through, I would. But that isn't possible. The best I can do is tell Elwell and everyone the truth and hope that I'm forgiven. If I'm not ... well, this heart of mine has carried around worse pain."
The roughneck hunched his broad shoulders, gave Viktor's blond head a pat, then rose to his feet and left the barn.
For no reason that he could think of, Viktor rolled over onto his stomach and wept himself.
John did indeed reveal everything to the Stone family, and then quietly left for his own home across the meadow. Viktor was, of course, released from his prison. But Elwell Stone never apologized for the harsh, unjust treatment he'd bestowed upon the blond youth. His pride would not let him. He did, however, stop regarding Viktor with suspicion and, when the blond youth made a mistake in his duties, the equitable no longer punched or shoved him.
Once the two of them had gone up to Rose Ridge to keep an eye out for the unscrupulous men who'd illegally sold Viktor's family the land there almost two years earlier. There were rumors flying around the town of Copeland that a certain group of white men were planning on making a trek up to Millview.
"We're only going to be up here two days, Vik," Elwell said, as he observed the way that the blond youth was assembling their tent. "There's no need to build us a small lodge. But maybe I should just let you do things your way. I mean, you were on the money about the rainstorm and that pea-soup fog that came before it."
The equitable man made sure that the youth had his assigned jobs down-pat and also made certain that Viktor felt a sense of pride and achievement when his instincts proved to be dead-on. Elwell's actions were subtle, but they couldn't fool the brawny youth. He knew that the equitable man was using deeds and not words to apologize for what he'd done to the blond young man.
Normally it was Ida's grandfather Moses Mason who kept a fond, paternal eye on young Viktor. But — at the time of the duo's trip up to Rose Ridge — the old man had been feeling under the weather.
No one thought the old man's cold and cough was truly serious when it first manifested itself. But Moses' health continued to decline, and, after sending for a physician in Copeland, the Stone family's worst fears were confirmed. The old man would not live to see the next spring.
The family tried to go on about their usual business — as Moses had insisted — but it was difficult. Viktor visited the old man as often as he could, and even joined Ida in sitting up with him in his room when he was restless.
And through all of this, the blond youth tried to keep himself from falling apart from letting all of the grief he was feeling show. His deceased father and brothers had possessed the ability to remain externally cold (demeanor-wise) in any situation, but Viktor was different.
Once, after a long workday, the blond youth made his way towards Moses Mason's room armed with a special brand of cigars that he'd purchased in Kennealyville. This particular brand was the old man's favorite, but Faith Stone had decreed — after her father's illness was diagnosed — that his smoking days were at an end. 'Hell, ALL my days are darn-near at an end!' the old man had protested. 'What difference is smokin' gon' make now?'
But Faith had been insistent. Viktor, however, had made his peace with Moses' imminent passing. He decided that, if his mentor had to depart this earth soon, he should at least enjoy himself while he was still here. The brawny young man entered the old man's bedroom almost on tiptoe and handed him the box of hand-rolled Havana's.
When Moses saw the cigars, he flashed a big toothless grin, placed his hands on both sides of the blond youth's face and gave him a big smacking kiss on his forehead,
"Bless your heart, son!"
This got Viktor very choked-up, and he was unable to hold back his tears this time.
"What's the matter with you?" the old man asked, putting the cigars to his nose and stroking them as if they were made of gold.
The youth hurriedly wiped his eyes,
"Nothing, sir. It is just that, to my true father, I was always known simply as 'Viktor' ... and Mr. Stone calls me 'boy' ... you are the only one who ever calls me 'son'. I ... I am going to miss ... miss...."
Moses immediately placed his new cigars on the nightstand and beckoned the brawny youth over. And Viktor wept in his mentor's thin arms. He even fell asleep with the old man rocking him.
When Viktor opened his eyes the next morning, he was lying on the rollaway guest bed in the Stone family's living room. A quilt had been thrown over him, his clothing was draped over a nearby chair, and his boots were lined-up next to Elwell's by the fireplace.
He had no memory of stripping down to his underclothes or making his way to the living room under his own power. And his only explanation for being in the house instead of in his loft out in the barn was an unlikely one — Elwell must have carried him from Moses' room and tucked him into the guest bed, for no one else in the Stone household possessed the strength necessary to accomplish such a feat. Viktor, after all, weighed nearly two hundred pounds.
Sitting up in bed, Viktor did seem to vaguely recall some of the events that transpired between his falling asleep in Moses Mason's arms, and awakening now. Pretty soon remembrance washed over him like cleansing wave of water .
He recalled Elwell laying him upon the rollaway bed with the tenderness of a father. Then he recalled the equitable man tugging off his boots. After licking both of the brawny blond-youth's sweaty sheer-socked feet for a while, Elwell slowly undressed him.
After stripping the half-asleep brawny blond down to his underwear and socks, he the equitable man immediately returned to ministering to young Viktor's sheer-sock-clad feet with his tongue. Elwell was really talented with his tongue. He could go very soft with gentle licks at the reinforced material between the youth's stocking toes or very strong along the delicate nylon shrouding the soles of Viktor's feet.
He also liked biting gently. In his semi-conscious haze, Viktor was in heaven. The equitable man must have spent a good fifteen minutes just cleaning, smelling and licking. He clearly adored the brawny blond youth's beautiful stocking feet — Size fourteen with well-shaped toes.
For a while Elwell paused in order to Just sniff and lick the feet through the sheer socks spending about ten minutes or so on each foot doing this. He eventually ended up on the bed, sucking on Viktor's stocking toes and stroking his own manhood at the same time. It wasn't long before the equitable man's penis exploded with such force that it hit the brawny blond youth's shoulder.
Viktor drifted off into dreamland completely while Elwell (still vigorous even after shooting his seed) softly and tenderly bathed his sheer-socked feet with gentle kisses.
Glancing down at his feet now, Viktor saw that they were bare. The equitable man must have stripped them away sometime during the night before departing the living room.
His moment of recollection was cut shirt when .
"Viktor," Ida called softly from the doorway, which led to the hallway.
Her young face was ashen,
"Granddaddy's been asking about you ... it's a-almost t-time."
Viktor immediately leaped off the guest bed; landing on the carpetless floor with the loud slap of heavy, bare feet. After practically leaping into his trousers, he ran to the old man's room. The youth arrived to find Elwell and Faith at Moses' bedside. Viktor and Ida joined them, but on the opposite side.
Moses didn't give a long, maudlin speech as he faded, but he did ask for both Elwell and the blond youth to find it in their hearts to forgive John Downs — the old man was certain that the roughneck would have never gone through with letting Viktor be executed because of his lies.
Then Moses Mason (having already said a good-natured goodbye to his tearful daughter and granddaughter) spent the last moments of his life making both his son-in-law and his blond surrogate grandson PROMISE to forgive John.
And it was only after Elwell and Viktor assured him that they would, that the light left the old man's eyes completely. He died smiling.
Elwell Stone immediately embraced his wife and daughter — all three of them weeping softly as they hugged each other. After a few moments, the equitable man turned and saw Viktor standing alone and miserable, watching them. Both the equitable man and his wife held out an arm to the sobbing blond youth, and Viktor came to them and ensconced himself within their comforting circle of tears and love.
For a long while the four of them stood together, crying and embracing. Then Elwell pulled away from the huddle and turned towards Viktor. He wiped his eyes and said,
"Uh, I'm heading back up to Rose Ridge next week to keep a look-out for those bamboozling Realtors. You up for another three-day camp-out, son?"
Viktor, a glow brightening his tear-stained face, slowly nodded and smiled.