Tombstone: The Superhero of the West

By M Missy

Hello; my name is Morgan Matthew McCoy III. I grew up near the small coal mining town of Pottsville Pennsylvania. At 18 years of age we moved to Tombstone Arizona; my father was a mining engineer.

My childhood was full of confusion, despair, sadness, a very disappointed father; a very loving mother, a thick leather strap, many tears, and a saving angel.

During my growing years in Pennsylvania, during our wagon train trip to the West, and after our settlement in Tombstone; problems and trouble seemed to find me at every turn. There just seemed like there were bad men everywhere; sometimes the bad person was me.

Because of some special God given talents, though no wish of my own, I became the greatest UNKNOWN gun fighter, protector of the innocent, and healer of the sick and injured; the West had ever; NOT KNOWN!

My great fame came, not just because of my many feats, but from the fact I was able to keep my identity a secret. Thus; I became known as “The Ghost”. How did I do so? I had secrets of my own.

My story will tell you; while the likes of my friends Wyatt Earp and his brothers; Morgan, Warren, and Virgil, along with Wyatt’s good friends; Doc Holiday and Bat Masterson; became the famous ones; it was me who was the real law; the real protector of the people. It was me who helped Wyatt Earp finish the outlaw group known as; THE COWBOYS!

I have killed more bad men than all the famous lawmen put together. It was me. Well; let me not tell you the end of my story now. Let me just say you will be surprised to know the answer to two of the West’s most famous mysteries.

How did I accomplish such without becoming famous myself; how did I hide my identity? That answer is what made my life the most unusual of lives. That answer is what made me; who I became;

THE GHOST!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Oct 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796064735

Book preview

WHAT WAS THAT ALL ABOUT?

Pottsville was a perfect place to live; quiet, plenty of open land, not too many neighbors outside of town. The perfect setting for the perfect simple life; that was; if it was not for who I was; who I wanted to be; who I was not. My life was becoming a mess; it would get far worse.

Sometime shortly after my 12th birthday; my father took me for a walk and told me it was time for me to begin learning and doing young man things. I was not sure what he meant as I always did what my mom asked me to do. I did play with my sisters; but, considering we lived on a farm, it was a distance to go to have other boys to play. So, I played with my sisters and we all seemed happy. That apparently was except for my father; who apparently did not like me playing girls games; playing with dolls; doing girls work; cleaning, baking, cooking, and the like.

My father told me he wanted me to start learning how to do men’s work; as he put it. You know, doing farm work. I was perfectly happy doing what I had been doing; but I did not think it was a problem learning new things either; especially if it made my father happy. My father was the best of dad’s; very loving, spent plenty of time teaching me, playing with me at times; always friendly. Sadly, very sadly; that did not last much longer.

After our WALK; on Dad’s days off from work; he began to teach me about farming, caring for the livestock, fixing fences, chopping wood, fixing equipment, maintenance of the house and barn, etc. I did not have a problem learning all the new things; but I still liked playing with my sisters and helping my mom with the cleaning, cooking, and baking; I was a very good baker. May was even teaching me how to sew and mend clothes; which I liked as well. If I had my choice, I liked what I was doing. But Dad seemed insistent I only do men’s stuff.

I understood Dad wanted me to do the farm work; the MAN’S work! I learned how to do so to raise our food. We did not make much money from the farm; we did not need to; Dad made more money than we needed being a coal mining engineer.

Coal was first discovered in Pennsylvania before the turn of the 1700’s.

In 1753; coal was first noted on a map.

In 1754; George Washington, led a group to detail more about coal and its abundance.

In 1792; The Lehigh Coal Mine Company first used coal in a commercial business.

In 1810; about 350 tons of anthracite coal was mined in Pennsylvania. However, it was very difficult to transport. Coal was very heavy; horses could only pull a little at a time.

By 1818; they began to move the coal in the Lehigh River; making it economically feasible to be used for heating and cooking in people’s homes.

By 1840; combining canals with the Lehigh River; about 250,000 tons of coal was reaching Philadelphia each year.

A few years later; using canals and the Schuylkill River about 500,000 tons of coal was reaching Philadelphia each year.

By 1864; railroads had been built providing an unlimited amount of coal to be transported yearly.

In the late 1870’s as I grew up; coal mining was a thriving operation providing heat for homes along with tremendous heating ability for factories and manufacturing of all kinds. Such paid my father very well.

Just before I turned twelve; a school opened nearby; May, March, and I all started going to school to learn more. Our mother taught us all to read and write when we were younger; I read a lot at night. I was happy to read anything which taught me something new. So, we looked forward to going to school and learning new things; having new friends. HOWEVER; such did not work out so well for me.

After school began; we obviously had much less time for play, helping on the farm, or in the house. SO! Dad told me I needed to spend all my home time doing what boys do; what men do; not what women or girls do. That included not playing with my sisters or helping with the cleaning or cooking. Such was not happy news for me; neither my mother nor my sisters seemed to be happy about it either. Dad gave Mom a list of boy’s chores to keep me busy.

Dad also told me to make friends with the other boys in school; so, I could play with them, maybe even play some sport, like baseball. I tried baseball; I was alright at it; I just did not care to play. I especially did not like being with the other boys. I could not tell you why; I just did not like them. I would look at the girls; I wanted to be with them; to do what they were doing. I especially wanted to dress like the girls; not like a boy. Me not playing with the boys seemed fine with them; they did not seem to like me very much either. They would tease me about being small; they were all taller and bigger than me.

Despite my father’s wishes; my mother still asked me to do girls things for her. I continued to spend time helping and playing with my sisters as well; Dad was at work most weekdays; so, he did not know.

However, one day Dad came home early from work and found May, March, and me making new clothes for our dolls. Dad took a minute to look at us; he did not say a single word; his face told the story; he was not happy.

Dad went to the kitchen and spoke with Mom. Dad came back; he grabbed me by my hair, dragged me off my chair; he sat down in the chair. He proceeded to unbuckle my pants and pushed them down; then he pushed down my undershorts as well; which obviously left me naked from the waist down.

My first thought was; I was so embarrassed standing there in front of May and March with my penis hanging out. But I did not have much time to think about it as Dad pulled me over his lap, covering my penis in his lap, but, showing off my bare bottom instead.

Up until that day; not even my mom had seen my penis for many years. As far as I could remember; ever since I could bathe and dress myself. I never saw my mom naked; but I did see my dad naked a few times. I saw his penis once when it was stiff; at other times, not so. I never saw either of my sisters naked. So, having them see my penis was a big deal to me. I was embarrassed and humiliated; I started to cry.

Dad started spanking my bare bottom with his very strong and very big hand. As it was my first ever spanking, I was not sure what it would feel like; but I was already crying just from being embarrassed with May and March seeing my penis; I was not sure why.

Dad gave me about 30 or 40 spanks; then he pushed me off his lap and told me to go and stand in the corner. I stood up with my penis flopping all over the place, while my tears continued to flow. As I looked at May and March looking at me; I felt more embarrassed.

March’s face was one of surprise. However, May, seemed happy, smiling a bit, even entertained; I cried even harder.

I bent down to pull up my pants and undershorts; but Dad told me to leave them where they were and get to the corner. I cried even harder; mostly from feeling embarrassed by being bare from the waist down.

As I continued to cry like a little girl, I shuffled over to the corner and stood there with my bright pink bottom cheeks on display for my sisters to see. I must have continued to cry lightly for 10 minutes, not from the pain of the spanking, rather; I could not shake my embarrassed feeling having May and March see my penis, my bare bottom, and seeing me get a spanking.

Up until that point in our lives; we were only punished by having to stand in the corner and being sent to our rooms. However, we did not get in trouble very often; so, those punishments were rare and no big deal.

But, that day; as I stood there in the corner, my thoughts were not with the spanking itself; rather my thoughts were with the face of May as she had a big smile on her face like she enjoyed watching Dad spank me. Or, was she happy she got to see my penis? I was not sure; maybe both.

However, my most encompassing emotion was my feeling of shame, not for being spanked, for having a penis. I knew May and March did not have penises; I wanted to be like May and March. After all, Dad only spanked me because I had a penis. At age 12; that was the worst day of my life; my days got progressively worse from there.

I never understood what that was all about; it was not like I did not get my BOY chores finished; I did; then I played with May and March or helped Mom.

At bedtime; Mom came in to tuck me in as she always did. She had tears in her eyes; she gave me a big hung; said; I am sorry, Morgan; I am very sorry; but I cannot help you with your father. I love you so much; you are one of God’s special people.

I was not sure what Mom meant at the time; but she cried throughout; she hugged me tight. I fell asleep very confused.

FIRE

Just after I turned thirteen; I was riding home from school one day when I smelled smoke. It was not the usual fireplace smoke; it was too heavy; not the usual smell of firewood or coal.

I had my horse change direction and we traveled towards the smoke. I came upon a home where I saw smoke coming from an upstairs window on the eastern side of the home.

I rode to the front of the house; I knocked very loudly; rang the bell; no one answered. I let myself in; found a lady right there by the front door in the living room; she was either sound asleep or unconscious. I could tell the fire was upstairs, but the downstairs was filling up with smoke quickly.

I shook the lady to wake her; she awoke; she choked; she noticed the smoke and screamed, MY BABY! MY BABY! As she was beginning to choke more, I told her to go outside and I would go up to get her baby.

As I looked up the stairs, I could see the smoke getting thicker; I knew I would have trouble breathing. I also noticed a basket of laundry on the floor, so I took one of the towels; poured the water from a bowel over the towel; used it to filter the smoke so I could breathe; as I held it over my mouth and nose.

I ran up the stairs, as the lady went out the front door choking very heavy. I guess she had been breathing the smoke for a few minutes already.

I found the baby in the room from where all the smoke was coming. Apparently, the lady was ironing in the baby’s room and left the iron on a shirt and went downstairs. The hot iron caused the shirt she was ironing to catch fire. The fire itself was not so bad, but the smoke was bad; getting thicker.

I threw the iron out the window and threw my wet towel on the burning shirt to put the fire out. I picked up the baby; who appeared not to be breathing; he looked sort of blue. I ran down the stairs with the baby; laid the baby on the front lawn. It did not appear the baby was breathing; his face all blue. The lady came over to us; she was still coughing a little herself; she started screaming, MY BABY, MY BABY, He’s not breathing. MY BABY IS DEAD; she just started screaming at the top of her lungs.

I read once, in the Navy, when someone was unconscious and thought to have drowned; they would put him over a barrel on his tummy and push against his back forcing the air out of him. That would cause the person’s body to expel the water and gasp for air; sometimes it would get him to breathe again. It became known as a bad thing when, you had someone over a barrel. Or, he has me over a barrel.

So, I tried it by putting the baby over my thigh on his tummy, as I knelt on one leg and pushed on him; twice; three times; it worked as he choked up a big cough and started breathing again.

The lady picked up her son; hugged him half to death; then looked at me and yelled; YOU SAVED OUR LIVES! The lady burst into tears and said; you saved our lives, thank you, thank you, thank you, YOU SAVED OUR LIVES!

I went back in the house; took the pitcher of water upstairs and made sure the fire was out; it was. I opened windows on the other side of the house to get a cross breeze to clear out the remaining smoke and went back out front to go home.

I gave the lady my name; only because she asked; I went home. That night; just after dinner there was a knock at the front door. It was the lady and her husband; he wanted to thank me.

As I did not tell anyone what happened; as you can imagine; as my parents listened to Mrs. McGraw tell the story; my mother stood there on the front porch and cried. My father had a face of such pride; I finally made him happy with something I did; FINALLY!

When Mr. and Mrs. McGraw left; Dad gave me a big hug and told me how proud he was of me. I was thrilled to gain something positive from Dad; it was great. Nevertheless; I was happy I saved the baby for the family’s sake; not for Dad’s approval.

That night when my mom tucked me in; she smiled; gathered a few tears and said; most people would not chance going into a burning house; yet you did, Son. Morgan; I told you before; you are one of God’s special people; such may not serve you well many times during your life; but you will continue to help others in need; perhaps that is where you will find your happiness.

I love you, Son; more than you will ever know; you will live an unusual life; try and be true to yourself; somehow.

Once again, Mom left me in tears; but good tears I thought? Maybe not? BUT, what did she mean? How could she know?

LONG THICK STRAP

After I saved Mrs. McGraw and her baby from the fire; Dad seemed to have a better attitude towards me; like my actions meant I was becoming the man he wanted me to be all along. However, his improved feelings for me did not last very long.

Dad’s temporary improved feelings towards me did not do much for me; I still wanted to dress like my sisters and do all the things girls did. I liked to clean the house, cook the meals, and sew. I especially liked to bake cakes and pies. I continued to bake pies and cakes; Dad loved every one of them; as he thought they were made by Mom.

My 14th year turned out to be a very busy and enlightening year for me. Ever since Dad spanked me and cornered me in front of May and March, I seemed somewhat afraid of him; maybe standoffish is a better word. Perhaps I did not feel the love he once held for me and I for him. I felt as though he did not care for who I was growing into, OR, perhaps not growing into. Such feelings left me sad; even depressed; often, very often.

Meanwhile, in school; most of the boys were old enough to start paying attention to girls. They talked about all the girls in school, including my sisters. I listened, but the truth was I had no interest in girls the way those boys had an interest; they wanted to have sex with them. I paid attention to how the girls looked in their nice dresses or their blouses and skirts. I paid attention to how they looked when they wore petticoats or an extra tight corset. I thought about how I would look dressed as such.

The other boys made a lot of comments about both of my sisters. I did not like hearing such; but mostly they were complimentary. Especially for May; as the boys spoke about her nice shape. May did have a very nice shape compared to all the other girls. May had the largest breasts and a nice plump bottom; which held out the front and back of her blouses, skirts and dresses very nicely. May had a great smile along with her long shiny brown hair. The fact was; May was a real beauty.

March; being four years younger, was still filling out some; but she was very pretty also. March had a nice plump bottom as well; along with a nice set of breasts; they were just not as pronounced as May’s.

For the most part; when those boys spoke of girl’s breasts and bottoms; you need to keep in mind most of those boys never saw those parts; they were just talking about how the girls looked in their dresses or blouses and skirts. I had never seen a naked girl either.

There were 17 of us boys in school; there was only one other boy, other than me, who did not seem to care about having sex with the girls; Oscar. Oscar was quiet about the girls. He just listened to the other boys, like I just listened. For some reason, which I did not understand at the time, Oscar and I became friends. Neither one of us were friends with any of the other boys.

On some days after school I would go over to Oscar’s house; his parents owned a store in town so there was no one home at Oscar’s house during the day. He did have an older sister, Jenny, but she worked at the store also.

Most of the time we would do our homework and then play chess or checkers or some card games. One day Oscar wanted to play poker. I knew poker was a grown-up card game. My dad did not play poker; so, I did not know how to play. Oscar said he would teach me, but I noted I had no money. Oscar said we would bet with our clothes; the loser of each hand would remove a clothing piece until one of us was naked.

That sounded like fun to me. The fact was I wanted to see Oscar naked; I wanted to see his penis; was it small like mine; was it big like my dad’s? Did Oscar have a nice muscular plump bottom like me; or was it small or flat? Did Oscar have muscles; was his tummy tight? I did not have much as far as muscles were concerned, but I did have a tight tummy and a nice plump bottom. My legs were not very muscular; rather longer and slenderer.

Our poker game lasted about a half hour before I was naked. As I slid my undershorts down; Oscar looked at my penis, like he was surprised it was so small.

Oscar did not say anything. He did stand up and remove his undershorts also, the only article of clothing he had left on. Oscar seemed proud to show me his penis. However, his penis was stiff; very stiff. Oscar’s stiffy was about 7 or 8 inches long; just like my dads’ penis; almost as thick as my dad’s; but not quite.

Did that mean all guys had penises that big; except for me? Did that mean I was supposed to be a girl and I got a little penis instead of what girls have? I was not sure what girls had; I had never seen a pussy. I assumed a girl’s pussy was like a sheep’s pussy, as some of the other boys talked about such.

Oscar told me to stand up and turn around; I did. He looked at my bottom and said; your bottom is much nicer than mine. Oscar turned around and showed me his bottom. It was not flat; it was just small. Mine was much nicer, as it was muscular and plump. He was taller than me by about four inches and was slim like me.

I did not know what to think of Oscar looking at me naked. I was not sure what he thought about my penis. I did not know if he had seen other penises to compare; I was afraid to ask.

Our naked poker games became a weekly thing with one of us ending up naked. The other one would take off his remaining clothing and we would remain naked until it was time for me to go home; while we played our other games. We both seemed to like being naked, however, Oscar continued to get stiffies’ throughout the afternoons from time to time, while I did not.

THEN! One day Oscar’s father came home early from their shop and caught us walking from the kitchen back up to Oscar’s bedroom, while we were both naked. We both stopped in our tracks, surprised to see him standing there.

He just stared at us for a minute; seemingly not knowing what to say. I had no idea how Oscar was feeling; I was completely embarrassed; my face was red hot.

After a long pause; he told me to get dressed and go home; I did. I was not sure if that was the end of it or if Oscar’s father was going to tell my dad and make a big deal of what I was not sure.

About 6:45 that evening, my answer knocked on the front door. I went to my room, so I did not have to sit there and worry in front of May and March. Both Mom and Dad went out on the front porch to speak with Oscar’s father.

A few minutes after the discussion on the front porch ended; May opened my bedroom door and told me Dad wanted me downstairs. My little heart started pounding; I was afraid I was going to have to show my penis and bare bottom again to May and March, while I got another spanking. My legs were shaking a bit as I got to the bottom of the stairs.

Dad asked me, in a calm voice, if Oscar or I touched one another.

I told him no. But I had no idea why he thought Oscar or I would touch each other; for what reason?

So, you and Oscar just played and did your homework naked, he asked?

Yes, Dad.

Why, he asked?

I told him the story about playing poker and ending up naked. I told him we just thought it was fun.

Alright, Son; I will not have a faggot for a son. You come outside with me and I will explain it to you my way. Dad went to his room. When came out he had a long thick leather strap in his hand as he said; let’s go.

I knew about lickings with leather straps from some of the other boys in school; most all of them had been given lickings from time to time from their fathers. It would be a first for me. On the good side; at least May and March would not be there to watch as we were going outside.

Dad took me outside, off the front porch, over to a barrel. He laid the barrel on its side and said; so, you like to be naked with other boys, do you? Take off all your clothes and we’ll see how much you like it now!

I was so scared, my father was a big, strong, and scary man when he was upset. I did not hesitate to take off all my clothes, including my socks and shoes.

Dad showed me the long thick strap and said; I was saving this for when you got older, you are now old enough. This strap will teach you I will not have a faggot boy for a son, now lay over that barrel.

I guessed it was my turn to experience the term; he had me over a barrel. In my case; my dad had me over a barrel and it was a bad thing for me. As I laid over the barrel; I could not believe what happened next.

I heard a tremendous CRACK; then I felt a pain across my bottom which was like no other pain I had ever felt in my life. CRACK! I screamed OUCH! CRACK! I screamed OUCH! Dad was killing me with that strap; as I burst into tears after only CRACK, CRACK, four licks and four doses of pain.

Dad kept beating me with that strap with lick after lick after lick. I kicked my legs up and down and cried like a little girl. The pain was unbearable. The sound of the CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK; was very loud. The licks just kept on coming followed by more and more and more pain. I could not believe how much the strap was hurting me.

I could not take the pain any longer and rolled off the barrel. Dad grabbed my arm; pushed me back over the barrel; grabbed a thin leather strap from a porch hook and tied my hands behind my back. I could not roll off the barrel tied like such.

Dad stopped strapping me, as I laid there crying very heavy, like I had never cried before in my life. I thought my pain was going to stop, but Dad just moved over to my other side and CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! All I could do was absorb the pain while I cried and cried and cried.

I was having a bit of a problem breathing as my nose was clogged with snot; I was crying so hard. I had to breathe thru my mouth at the same time I needed to scream. My tears were flying all over the place as I moved my head back and forth as a natural reaction to all the pain.

CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! CRACK! 20 More CRACKS! Dad ended my licking. It was quiet at that point as far as the strap was concerned, but I was still crying my head off with snot running out of my nose and dripping all over the ground competing to make a bigger puddle then my tears. MAN! My bottom just hurt and hurt and was pounding with pain.

Dad gave me a few minutes to calm down; then untied my hands, helped me off the barrel, and told me to go and stand in the corner in the living room. I got up off the barrel and went to pick up my clothes.

But Dad said NO! You like being naked, now be naked, leave those clothes there and get to the corner.

I could not believe what happened next. As I walked in the front door Mom passed me and went outside; leaving May and March to see my nakedness, as well as, my well-licked bottom. To my horror; seeing their faces staring at me made my penis begin to grow. I walked faster to get to the corner before May or March or both would notice my raising penis; as small as it was.

As I settled in the corner; I could feel their eyes burning a hole in my bottom. I felt such shame while for some reason my penis grew to full size. I did not understand why.

I heard March say to May; you are right, he does have a nice bottom. It looks even better with all those welts; as they giggled at me. But, listen to him whimper; he cries like a little girl.

Yes, March; May noted; but I wish we got to see Dad strap him. I liked it better when we got to watch him get spanked.

March giggled and said; it’s fine with me this way.

Dad made me stand in the corner for about 30 minutes. May and March never left the room; so, my embarrassment continued.

When Mom tucked me in bed that night; she was very nice; very loving; as always; while she told me; she did not believe I should have been punished, but it was not up to her. Mom told me to be careful to avoid such future problems.

I fell asleep thinking I would be better off dead. Why live such an unhappy life. It did not seem I ever made Dad happy with me; while he seemed totally happy with May and March, who did not have penises. Was life all about penises? A penis decides how you should or should not live your life; who decided such?

WOW!

It was the middle of my 14th spring; the morning after my licking; sitting for breakfast on the hard wood chair did not feel so good; I knew it would be the same all day in school. When we got to school; I looked up the word faggot. I had to find out what my father meant when he spoke of me being a faggot.

The book noted a faggot was a branch or twig or bundle of such. That could not be what Dad meant; so, I kept reading.

Homosexuality, or faggot; the book noted, was one of the three main categories of sexual desire, along with bisexuality and heterosexuality. Homosexual activity, having sex with another fellow, was considered unnatural. I guess such was why my dad would be unhappy with me if he thought I was unnatural. I never thought of myself as a faggot; maybe I was. But then; I never thought about having sex with a fellow. Did being naked with a fellow, Oscar, count? Did such make me a faggot?

However, since I thought about seeing naked girls, did such not make me heterosexual? Maybe when I got older, I would know. Meanwhile, I found it all confusing and depressing.

I was still somewhat confused by getting the licking. What did I do wrong, hang around in Oscar’s house when we were naked? What was wrong with such behavior? Dad never did explain it to me. Besides; if I was a faggot, such was not my fault, would giving me a licking change me? Can you beat the faggot out of the faggot?

I began to wonder if the reason Oscar liked to hang around with me and not the other boys was because he too thought I was a faggot and he was one. Maybe others knew somehow that I wanted to be a girl; but, how would they know? I was not sure.

Nevertheless, after I read about faggots; at the bottom of the faggot or homosexual page there was a note to see; SISSY.

So, I looked up sissy. The book went on to say; males with traits most often associated with feminine nature, behavior, mannerisms, style or roles; rather than masculine nature, behavior, mannerisms, style or roles.

That described basically how I felt. I wanted to wear girl’s clothes and wanted to do girl’s chores. So, maybe I was a sissy and not a faggot. I never thought about having sex with another fellow; girls either for that matter. I was confused. I did not find such to be good news; having a name for me did not change who I was or who I would rather be; I was still me; even if I was a sissy. Additionally, I did not mind believing I was a sissy. It was the other boys and Dad who thought there was something wrong with me; I felt fine being me. As I gave it some more thought; some of those other boys in school did call me a sissy, sometimes. Could they tell? I was not sure.

When Oscar arrived at school, we sort of just looked at one other. After a long pause, I asked him if he was punished. Oscar told me he got a licking; I confirmed I did as well. Sitting in school was not so comfortable for either of us.

At lunch that day; I asked Oscar if he knew us being naked was wrong. Oscar said yes and no. Oscar told me his father complains about him not be manly enough all the time. Oscar confided in me he was a faggot and wanted to have sex with other fellows and had no interest in girls at all. So, his father thought, since he was naked with me, such was what faggots did and he would not have a faggot for a son.

I asked Oscar if he thought I was a faggot for going along with him. Oscar told me no; he could tell I did not show any interest in him; THAT WAY!

I still did not understand how two fellows could have sex; I was too afraid to ask Oscar; I did not want to appear dumb. However, I was sure getting the impression everyone knew a lot more about sex than what I saw with the farm animals. I was feeling a little dumb; adding to my confused life.

I asked Oscar if his dad punished him previously for being a faggot. He told me, yes, more times than he wished to remember. So, apparently both of our dads thought they could beat the faggot out of us; or in my case; beat the sissy out of me.

After school we went back to Oscar’s house. I guessed our naked poker game was history. Nevertheless, Oscar was my only real friend; I seemed to be his only real friend as well. We would just go back to doing what we did before; only with our clothes on.

However, that afternoon after school; to both of our surprise, as we entered Oscar’s house, Jenny was home. Jenny was of no concern, or so we thought. We were only surprised she was home in the middle of the afternoon.

When Jenny saw us come in; she picked up a hairbrush off the kitchen counter, held it in her hand, pointed it at us, told us both to shuck down our pants. The hairbrush was a large head hardwood oak brush.

Oscar objected by saying; We don’t need to listen to you!

Oscar; Morgan; unless you want me to have your fathers give you another licking for being naked again; you two will obey me. You two will do exactly what I tell you to do. In fact; this time I will tell them I caught you two having sex with each other. I am sure you will get more than just a licking.

BUT! BUT! That is NOT TRUE! Jenny!

So what Oscar? Who do you think they will believe after yesterday?

NOW! SHUCK DOWN THOSE PANTS OR I WILL SPANK THE BOTH OF YOU!

Oscar and I looked at one another and began to lower our pants. Once they were on the ground around our ankles; Jenny told us to drop our undershorts as well. We both hesitated; but as Oscar obeyed Jenny; I did too.

So, tell me; why was I standing there in front of Jenny with a stiffy? Why would Jenny bossing me around and embarrassing me excite me so? I was having a very difficult time understand my penis. Oscar was not stiff.

Jenny started at my stiffy for a long few seconds; then smiled; then said; turn around, both of you.

As Oscar and I turned around; Jenny moved over behind us and put one hand on each of our bottoms to feel our welts. I felt my penis pulsate like it was happy to feel her touch. Otherwise; I was terribly embarrassed being half naked in front of Jenny. Jenny was about 5 years older than Oscar and me. Jenny was taller than both of us; she was very pretty; she had a very nice shape.

As Jenny told us to face her again; I was even more embarrassed, more shamed, more humiliated, with Jenny seeing my little penis compared to Oscar’s real man’s cock. The fact was; Oscar’s soft cock was longer and thicker than my stiffy.

I also wondered how she could tell our parents we had sex. After all; neither one of us had a pussy; how could we have sex? Such made me wonder again how faggots had sex? What did Oscar mean when he said he wanted