Copyright © 2019 – Nicholas Hall
"The sword of justice has no scabbard."
( Joseph de Maistre)
Eric and Evan sat, note pads and pens in hand, jotting down an occasional comment, listening to Franklin, Chase, and Henri convey the essence of their conversation with Rebecca, David, and Lindsey concerning the personalities, activities, fears, and foibles of Marcello and Marcus Giordano they learned of the previous Thursday evening.
Upon arriving early this Saturday morning fully aware Jessie, Jase, and Tyler worked late at The Birch the night before and would work late again this evening, Eric was somewhat taken aback when Jessie greeted them with a sleeping Gaige in his arms. Tipping his head inviting them in, Eric and the three Landry Brothers stepped inside Jessie's home, while he readjusted his hold on Gaige.
"The poppet decided he wanted to wait up for us, but didn't quite make it. Patrick let him sleep on the couch until we arrived and we put him to bed. He didn't stay there all night, however. He crawled in with us around two or so," Jessie explained with a yawn.
"Jase and Tyler are getting dressed; Franklin Campbell will be here shortly. Mike and Rick will join us as well."
Jessie settled down on the couch with Gaige on his lap, who, deciding it was a comfortable place to be, snuggled in closer. Jase, followed by Tyler carrying a light blanket, entered the living room from the hall leading to the bedrooms. Tyler carefully covered Gaige, tucking the blanket around the pajama clad eight year old and gave Jessie a kiss before settling alongside of him. Jase joined them, taking a position on the other side of Jessie.
Eric couldn't help but see how much the three of them loved each other and their love for their adopted son, Gaige. Much had changed in such a short time; graduation from high school for the three of them, marrying each other, albeit only one name appeared on the official government document naming Jessie's spouse, and adopting Gaige Saulnier, fulfilling the wishes of someone they'd never met and didn't know except she was a distant cousin of Eric's.
Eric's reverie was interrupted when Franklin arrived, followed by Mike and Rick and their mates Chad and Robbie. There must've been just enough noise to waken Patrick Hayes, emerging from one of the bedrooms, clad only in boxer shorts, walked into the living room, nonchalantly scratching his balls. Mike and Rick took position either side of the couch while Patrick joined Jacques, Chad, and Robbie near the front door. No trouble was expected, but the Averill Creek Pack took no chances. This wasn't their first rodeo by any means.
Franklin led the conversation with Henri and Chase injecting their recollections as they deemed important. Their perspective was more intimate and personal compared to Franklin's fairly clinical impressions. Pillow talk after sex with David and Lindsey gave them the feelings and observations of the persons subjected to the heinousness of Marcello and Marcus. Although second hand, it still was sobering.
Eric scanned the assembled young adults and teens in the room. Before him was the core of the leadership of the Averill Creek Pack; the two Alphas and their mate; the Beta and the Enforcer and their mates, and several Pack members, now including the Landry Brothers. Jase, Tyler, and Jessie matured over the past year, into strong, handsome, intelligent, and responsible adult leaders, physically and emotionally beyond their years. Their leadership was gained, not only by position, but by the trust of their pack members to lead them in the right direction and keep them from harm. The members of the Averill Creek Pack would fight to the death to protect Jessie and now Gaige. Eric and Evan would be leaving everything in good hands when the time came for them to depart this earth.
"That's about the crux of the situation," concluded Franklin, "both are dangerous and present a danger to society and now to the Landry's since Chase and Henri are involved with David and Lindsey." He looked toward Jessie, Jase, and Tyler expectantly for questions they might have, instead was met with silence.
"If I might be so bold to presume, Franklin," Eric interjected, "your involvement really is not to cause the downfall or demise of Marcello or Marcus, but to insure the safety of the Landry's and most importantly, Gaige, right?"
Franklin turned his head slowly toward Eric and Evan, uncertain if he should respond. He'd given no indication, he thought, what the actual nature of his assignment might be and wondered what Eric knew concerning it. Obviously, more than he realized. Figuring he'd be found out if he tried to lie, he merely answered, "Yes!"
"Please tell us why?" queried Jessie fully aware of the circumstances surrounding Gaige's status and the Landry's from the confidential information he'd received in the letter from Marie Le Compte and from representatives of the Grand Council.
Again, Franklin thought long and hard before answering.
"The Landry's grandmother, Marie Le Compte was highly revered and respected by members of the Grand Council. There is so much to be said concerning her service and her personally, it'd take several hours. I've been charged with providing security for them until any threat to them no longer exists, as it currently does because of the incident in Louisiana."
"As far as Gaige Saulnier, adopted son and great-nephew of the Le Compte's, I know little other than he is to be protected with my life if need be. I assume, again, because of his special relationship with Marie Le Compte, known to him as 'Tante.' I know she made arrangements before the tragedy in Louisiana happened. As I understand it, she chose Kabetogama because she was aware of having a distant cousin in the area, although he was human, who had a distinct and unique relationship with a pack of young shifters, one being Jessie Sutton, his god-son. Initial investigations concluded you, Jessie, was, for whatever reason, a very powerful and wise young wolf, something I'd not known until I was given this assignment."
"Additionally, there was a semi-retired, yet active, Guardian living in the area. Since I was from this area as well, I was added to the detail."
Jase, speaking for his brother and Jessie, announced, "We received a request earlier this morning from the Grand Council to assist in reducing any dangers or threats to the Landry's and Gaige. If we decide to do so, please understand, Franklin, they are now members of our Pack and we'll handle it our way, as we have other situations we've encountered in the past."
"In that case, you should know," Franklin announced, "I've already made arrangements for two Guardians to be employed at the estate for the sole purpose of protecting Mrs. Giordano, David, and Lindsey. Although not really within the scope of my duties, since Chase and Henri visit there, I thought it might be wise. In addition, Mrs. Giordano requested it. You should be aware, she has a brother who was turned some years ago and is quite familiar with us as a result."
He further explained the roles they'd be fulfilling and they'd be recognizable by scent. Franklin didn't mention they'd be quite recognizable to Rebecca or he had been requested by her brother to help her out of the dire straits she and the children found themselves in.
"If you do as requested, do you have any idea how you'll go about it?" Franklin asked.
"The mind plays tricks on many people. One might see what is not seen; hear what is not heard; taste what is not tasted; and feel or experience what is not experienced. Unreality, the unbelievable, becomes reality and the believable," Jessie announced carefully.
"We ask" Jase added, "your people not interfere with what we do," concluding the meeting with, "Thank you, Franklin, for your information. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have much to do. Oh," he asked, "Uncle Eric and Uncle Evan, would you be so kind as to remain? We may have some legal questions we'd need your counsel on."
Franklin knew when he'd been dismissed, shrugged his shoulders, thanked them for their time, and asked if they'd please keep him in the loop when it came to implementing their plans. He didn't want to be at cross purposes with the Pack. Jessie assured him they would to the extent it didn't compromise what was going to happen. It wasn't he didn't trust Franklin because he did, but for some reason he felt uneasy over those who were giving him his orders. Jessie wondered just how secure the chain of command was and the information passing along that chain. What would happen if there was a leak somewhere?
Gaige yawned as he woke, gave his Poppa Jessie a hug, and announced he was hungry.
"Not until you've washed and dressed, Poppet," Jase said picking him up and heading toward the bedrooms with him.
"Something bothering you, Jessie?" inquired Eric.
Jessie only nodded, furrowing his brow in the process, unwilling to discuss it yet with the others present. He needed some "alone" time with his Uncle Eric and Uncle Evan to discuss and parse out his misgivings.
Breakfast consisted of an egg bake, several in fact since there was a large number of hungry teens and young adults present, Danish pastries, juice, coffee, hot chocolate, and rare, thinly sliced steaks (two well done). Gaige preferred Cheerios, Danish, and juice.
Patrick would be taking him on the ATV to the Campbell Compound to spend the day playing and swimming with the other young people there. Jessie knew he'd eat well at lunch since his "apparently" grandparents spoiled him. Patrick would bring him to The Birch for ribeye dinner in the evening.
The Pack members discussed various options and approaches to the M and M problem, as Rick put it, while they ate their breakfast. Jessie outlined a tentative plan, after listening to everyone, and how he'd execute it. It sounded good, stayed clear of the law as Eric advised, except for possible criminal trespass, and Jase and Tyler gave the go-ahead.
"Somehow we need to get the word to David and Lindsey without others knowing," Jessie commented.
"Oh, that's no problem," Chase responded. "We found out we can communicate with them the same way we do among each other after we've shifted to wolf form. I only wish we knew how to do it like you guys do so the new wolves Franklin will have at the lodge can't hear us."
"No problem," Jessie stated and requested Jase and Tyler teach the Landry's how to block others from hearing them. "It won't take them but a minute."
Satisfied, Chase asked, "When does this parade begin?"
"Tonight," answered Jessie, a sly, mischievous smile on his face.
"I couldn't believe it's that simple," chuckled Eric as they sat enjoying their afternoon brandies watching Chase, Henri, and Jacques cavort in the water near the dock at home.
"What's so simple?" chuckled Evan. "You mean like trying to get those naked, hung wards of ours to wear swimsuits? It's embarrassing!"
"You mean because they're naked or because they're slightly better endowed?"
"Slightly wouldn't be bad, Eric, it's the extent or more than slightly that's disconcerting. I'm surprised every time they get a hardon, they don't pass out for lack of blood to the brain."
"Don't be ludicrous, Evan," chided Eric. "My guess is one of those cocks would only hold one to two pints and I don't think it would cause them to pass out- a little light headed maybe."
"Bullshit! Now, what's so simple?"
"The way Jase and Tyler explained how to block their communications from non-pack members. Why didn't I think of that?"
"Perhaps because we're not werewolves with special powers?"
Eric acknowledged Evan's conclusion by raising his glass in a toast "to you my love and our family." Evan responded with a strong "yes" and "we should be so fortunate."
Franklin was enjoying his conversation with his older brother Scott and his wife, Sandra, while they dined on prime rib at The Birch. Their oldest, Christopher, now eight years old, was chatting on about his new friend Gaige seated across the dining area with Patrick Hayes. He so much wanted to join him for dinner. Scott finally relented and Christopher grabbed his plate and scampered over to Gaige's table. Jamison, age six, and Harry, age fives started to protest, but were stopped by a glance from their mother trying to coax their little sister, age three, to at least try some broccoli.
Jessie, waiting tables, as was Jase and Tyler, ostensibly stopped by Scott's table to transfer Christopher's utensils and glass of milk to Patrick's table, leaned over, whispering in Franklin's ear, "It starts tonight. You might want to warn your lady friend not to be surprised by anything."
Steaks were being served at the Giordano estate on Remote Lake for dinner that evening as well. Marcello insisted the family dine together at home rather than eat out. It'd give him a chance to quiz them on what happened in his absence and reinforce his authority. The conversation was limited, as it usually was, with short answers to any questions Marcello might ask.
One question did set Rebecca back temporarily. David and Lindsey acted uninterested.
"One of the security guards said a Mr. Franklin Campbell was here to see you. What about?" Marcello asked brusquely.
Rebecca smile cordially; "He's with Campbell and Associates, a computer firm dealing in software. He was interested in selling us some new software and servicing our accounts and he thought I'd be able to help him. I explained I was a daughter-in-law and that you handled all matters of business. He seemed satisfied and left."
"You're damned right about that," Marcello growled, taking a sip of his water and setting the glass back down on the table.
Marcus, not paying attention either, was focused on staring at Lindsey first, then David, and back to Lindsey, his prick, concealed under the table and encased in his pants, was as hard as a railroad spike, the fingers of his left hand flicking the stiff penis head.
David wasn't watching Marcus; his attention was centered on his grandfather's water glass as it slowly moved from where Marcello placed it, closer to the table edge where, if bumped, would spill onto his lap. Which is exactly what it did when Marcello reached for where he thought the glass should be and his left hand missed. Glass, water, and ice flipped over into the old man's lap.
"SHIT!" he shouted standing up quickly, tossing his napkin to the table angrily, and stomped from the dining area heading for his bedroom.
David thought he heard soft, almost indiscernible, little mischievous giggles emanate from somewhere under or near the table. He looked at his mother and sister and couldn't detect a smile, twitch of the mouth, or any sign they were the ones who giggled. He looked toward Marcus. Marcus's eyes suddenly widened, sort of rolled back in his head momentarily, he shuddered, muttered "Damn," and left the table, his napkin held in such a manner to shield his lap.
David thought he heard the little soft giggles again and immediately looked to his mother and sister. Not any indication they heard the sounds he heard and he didn't want to ask them, fearful he was hearing things that weren't there. Then he thought maybe, just maybe, he'd listened to too many stories concerning the "wee folk" his mother told them. He was confused, troubled, but also very aware there were strange creatures inhabiting the world, unseen by humans, in most cases. In his case, and Lindsey's, they'd seen, touched, and felt the love of special beings from the supernatural or paranormal world- Lycanthropes- two very handsome ones at that, so perhaps he wasn't seeing things, but he wondered why.
It was just after midnight that evening and Chase and Henri stood naked along the shoreline not far from the lodge on Remote Lake. Their intention was to make a quick visit in order to inform David and Lindsey what was going to be happening.
"Henri," Chase hissed softly, "look!" and gave a nod of his head in the direction of the set of stairs leading up to the small deck just off of Mrs. Giordano's apartment. A very naked Franklin was carefully ascending the stairs, reaching the top, the door opened, and he quickly darted in.
"You don't suppose….," Henri began.
"Franklin's fucking David's mom?" grinned Chase.
"Bet that hurts," snickered Henri.
They stood a moment longer, checking the area for any more "surprises" and seeing, hearing, or scenting none, Chase, using his telepathic voice, called out to David and Lindsey.
"David, Lindsey; wake up and sneak down to the dock area. Henri and I have to talk to you and we don't want to be seen by you know who."
Chase didn't mention he also meant Franklin, but since David and Lindsey couldn't block communication and wouldn't be able to until mated and shifted the first time, he knew Franklin would've heard him and be aware of their presence. He also wasn't certain if the two of them knew Franklin was probably buried balls deep in their mother's inner core at the moment.
Henri and Chase watched as David and Lindsey, looking furtively about, slowly made their way down the deck stairs.
"There's no one around," advised Henri. "There are only two guards at the front gate and one of them is asleep. I can hear him snoring."
Chase heard David giggle softly and a "shush" from Lindsey.
Hugs and kisses between the young lovers served not only as a greeting but as a reassurance of love and protection. Chase carefully explained what the plan of action would be and the hoped for results. He also made it abundantly clear what might happen so David and Lindsey weren't to appear shocked or act as though anything really unusual happened.
"So, I wasn't crazy believing I thought I saw wee folk at work during dinner?" David asked.
"I don't think so," responded Chase with a smile and a kiss.
"Perhaps they were Pixies?" asked Lindsey as Henri slipped both hands under her small nude buttocks, hoisting her up, pulling her close, and slowly lowering her onto his erection. "I thought it was hilarious Marcus shot his wad in his pants at the dinner table." She took a deep breath and sighed, "That feels so good," wiggling around before raising and lowering herself, driving Henri's stiff cock deeper, causing her and him to shiver in delight.
Chase was in the process of turning David around so he could mount him from behind when a movement in the dark near the far west-wing of the lodge caught is attention.
"Someone's outside, coming this way – don't move," he warned.
"Whoever it is, isn't the only one cumming," Henri lamented. "I can't stop."
"Well, just don't move then, okay?"
"Part of me will and there's nothing I can do to stop it."
Chase just sighed in frustration and David whispered, "They're such horn dogs."
Chase shook his head in disbelief, wanting to snort "they're not the only ones," but refrained. David could hardly wait sometimes for Chase to make love to him.
Henri slowly turned so Lindsey, legs still wrapped around his waist and arms around his neck, could see who might be sneaking through the dark, heading toward them. The figure moved closer and Lindsey gasped in recognition. Approaching through the darkness was a very naked, very erect Marcus, his right hand moving slowly up and down his stiff penis as he walked toward the dock.
Stepping up on it, walking toward the end extending out into the lake, his hand beginning to pump more rapidly, Marcus walked within twenty feet of the two couples and didn't notice them so intent was he on his pleasuring himself. In an apparent dream fantasy, he muttered, grinned, and thrust his hips forward every now and then.
"Who's he talking to?" Lindsey asked.
"Don't know, but it's someone or something he thinks he's fucking," Henri responded.
"That's gross, Henri."
"You didn't think so a couple of minutes ago."
"That's different."
Marcus stood at the end of the dock and with a low, "oh my god!" climaxed and spewed his several small ropes of semen into the lake.
"I'll wait a couple of days before I swim over there," observed David.
"Or wait until there's an off shore breeze," suggested Chase.
Marcus woke in the morning seeming to be more tired than when he went to bed the night before. His dreams were more frequent and more erotic than usual, bringing him to a cock-stand and release several times. Visions of beautiful, pre-pubescent, nude boys, dressed only in sheer, white, silk open-fronted robes, small penises erect, dancing around his bedroom, white and ghostly almost, enticing him to fuck one and then another, bending over, spreading their small, delicate butt cheeks for him, was almost more than he could take, but he did by pleasuring as many as he could. Not once, he remembered, were there young girls, only boys, and some of them barely into puberty with wisps of hair just above their maturing cocks and balls. It caused him to tremble, fearful his grandfather would discover the other side of him.
"How could he," he mused to himself, calming down, as he wiped the crusted cum from his balls and sore cock, "they were all a dream." He'd have to remember how much he shot up before going to bed so he could have a repeat performance. Marcus didn't hear the small voices of the elves in the shadows, snicker, "Dream on,"
Marcello was really out of sorts when he arrived at the dining table for his breakfast. David happened to be in the kitchen schmoozing the cook out of a sausage, bacon, and cheese muffin. He really didn't need to schmooze her, since she really liked the boy and had one ready for him when he popped into the kitchen. He overheard his grandfather growl at one of the housekeepers.
"Well, where were they?"
"Near your chair in the great room where you sat last night before bed looking through some papers."
Marcello didn't have a very restful night and his morning wasn't starting much better. A constant dripping faucet in his bathroom cannonaded him awake several times, along with a pesky, persistent mosquito zinging his ears just as he was about to drop off. Now, this morning, when he wished to drink his coffee and read the paper, he couldn't find his reading glasses. He could have sworn he placed them on the night stand next to his bed as was his habit.
"Have someone check my window screens for holes," he ordered brusquely, "and fix the faucet in my bathroom sink."
"Yes, sir," David heard the housekeeper answer.
The next two weeks were relatively delightful for Marcus! Laying about the house most of the day since little was asked or required of him, except to be at his grandfather's beck and call, looking forward to nighttime when he'd shoot up and drift off into the most delightfully, erotically climaxing fantasies of encounters with his "dream boys." The dreams and interactions with the nubile, smooth, delightfully tasty boys seemed always to be one on one with others standing by waiting their turn. Deep in his mind, he seemed to think these creatures weren't real, but perhaps an incarnation of something special in human form, perhaps an electronic image of a boy from far away, or an avatar of sorts. Yet, he knew they had to be real since they were toucheable, suckable, and fuckable.
The only blemish or gloomy spot in his encounters, a gut-wrenching dose of something sinister lurking in background, was an apparition of grey, black, shadowy, ghostly, and eerie figures flitting about, smiling, almost as if waiting their turn as well, a turn he rejected time and time again as he fucked a pretty boy, usually in an outside venue near the lake. Granted the ethereal, sinister spirits caused a chill to center in his mind, foreboding a fate he dared not image, it wasn't enough to bring a halt to his sexual activities or his use of the needle. The only real consequence he felt was a very sore cock some mornings.
Marcello, unlike Marcus, was experiencing a miserly, disheartening, stressful two weeks, taking a toll on his health and disposition. Things weren't in their proper places! His underwear, normally in the second upper right-hand drawer of his dresser, were now appearing in the upper left hand drawer where his socks should be. Marcello could distinctly remember putting them in the right-hand drawer. His electric razor was discharged one morning when he could've sworn he plugged it in the night before. As a result, he shaved with a safety razor, something he rarely did, leaving his face decorated with slips of toilet tissue stemming the blood from razor nicks.
There were many other little irritating things such as a shoe lace knotted, giving him cursing aggravation as he worked to unknot it; a stuck zipper on his pants causing him to piss them in his desperate attempts to free it; a luncheon plate spilled on the floor, and so on.
The most terrifying incident happened one night when he should have been sleeping. Not every night, but about every other night, something would cause him great anxiety, waking him, keeping him awake, until the dawn. As a result, every night, incident or not, caused him unrest.
Marcello woke this particular night imagining something, in fact several somethings, were crawling on him under the light blanket covering him. One of these somethings was uncomfortably close to his cock and balls under his pajama bottoms. Carefully, he reached out, turned on the light on the night stand, and gently lifted the blanket. Looking down, he saw the head of a mouse poked out through the pajama fly looking back at him and a half dozen more scampering up and down his legs, evidently interested in joining the first mouse.
Throwing back his blanked, bellowing in surprise, anger, and fright, he pushed the button to summon security. Marcello couldn't stand mice or anything creepy, crawly such as a snake or lizard, or little scampering bugs or critters. The cock-loving mouse enjoying Marcello's cock was dashed to the floor by his action and sent scampering off for cover along with the other four-legged little bastards. Security arrived and found not a mouse in sight, a bit of fur, or even a dried turd. An exterminator was summoned to rid the lodge of pests.
Another night, a slight wind was blowing off of the lake, Marcello woke, thinking he heard a low moaning noise from outside his bedroom window. He rose, peered out, and thought he saw, drifting in the midst of some tree branches, the dark, shadowy, specter of Death, motioning him to come, calling his name. The sight and sound shook him to the very core. The next day, the groundskeeper cut the two large tree branches rubbing against each other, loose from the tree.
The most debilitating incident causing him pain, embarrassment, and more than one night's loss of sleep happened when he woke needing to urinate, but couldn't. Resigned to having to catheterize himself, he trundled to his bathroom, retrieved a paper wrapped, disposable catheter from the box, opened it, and lubricated it from the tube of lube on the counter of the bathroom vanity. Inserting the catheter until it started the flow urine, he sighed his relief as the pressure lessened on his abdomen and his bladder drained. The flow of urine seemed to warm his cock more and more and more until, as the last drops dripped from the plastic catheter, his cock and deep within his abdomen was burning hot! Looking at the tube of lubricant, he was horrified to discover he'd used an analgesic ointment ordinarily applied to ease sore muscles with generated heat.
The trip to the emergency room in International Falls seemed long, arduous, and exceedingly painful. Examination and treatment by the ER doctors and staff added to his misery with the addition of extreme embarrassment as Marcello described what he'd done. Fortunately, the security guard grabbed the tube of ointment on the way out of the bedroom, helping the doctors determine the treatment needed. Marcello's urinary tract was irrigated through the insertion of the tip of a large plastic syringe, filled with a neutralizing solution containing a anesthetic to relieve any pain, into the piss slit at the end of his cock. Several flushes, prescription of a pain killer and antibiotic, and Marcello was on his way back to the lodge. Urination was painful for several days and sleep was sparse.
Sitting in his chair trying to rest, Marcello was certain he heard soft, little giggles from somewhere in the shadows of his bedroom, but dismissed it as effects of the pain killer and lack of sleep.
The two new employees started sooner than Rebecca expected. She recognized both men immediately, noting they were just as handsome and athletic appearing as they had years before when she last saw them.
Franklin suggested Rebecca persuade Marcello to allow David, Lindsey, and her to attend the Fourth of July celebration at Sutton's Resort. The food was free and there was a huge fireworks display after dusk. It didn't take too much to persuade him since they'd attended in previous years when the family was at the lodge during the summer. However, they'd not attended since Demarco died. The assignment of two employees, the new security guard and the grounds/maintenance man clenched the deal as far as Marcello was concerned. He was really in no mood nor did he feel up to being on his feet that long. Tenderness still existed in his more sensitive and private areas.
Marcello was also quite concerned about Marcus, hence asking him to remain at the lodge on the guise of providing him company. Marcus would probably be about half stoned anyway and wouldn't give a shit if he stayed home or not. Marcus seemed to be drifting farther and farther from reality and into drug induced periods of rambling comments. He'd mumble aloud certain events or things he really shouldn't be talking about. His remarks, if heard and understood by outsiders could compromise Marcello and his business ventures, notwithstanding other more sinister measures taken over the years.
It was Chase, Henri, and Jacques' first time at the celebration and were enjoying themselves. Chase and Henri anxiously awaited the arrival of David and Lindsey. Their arrival was signaled by both teens picking up their scent, even amongst the wide spectrum of humans and the Lycans who worked at the resort. Chase often wondered how Jessie and the others kept their dual status so secret from the human world they lived and worked in, especially Jessie's family and friends.
Chase and Henri received reassurance from Franklin there'd be no interference from the two male employees accompanying the Giordano's. Spotting the family, with the two men, Chase and David both recognized the scent of the men. This was the first time, however, they'd seen them, since most of their visits to the lodge under cover of darkness.
David, Lindsey, Chase, and Henri ate together, laughed and joked together, sought and received an occasional kiss and hug, and watched the fireworks together. Before David and Lindsey returned to Remote Lake when the fireworks ended, Chase asked them if they were ready to take the next step in the "plan." Cautioning them things would change forever, they both agreed and in the darkness, sealed the agreement willingly and with vigor.
Several days after the Fourth, Marcus was in the midst of an erotic dream, but it was continually interrupted by shadowy, sinister apparitions, phantom-like spirits portending gloom and sorrow, not pleasure. Still, there existed several of the young ghostly boys available. One of them whispered in Marcus's ear a special pleasure awaited him on the beach. It'd be a young treat, a treat with a male appendage Marcus would barely be able to get his mouth around and a "boy pussy" to die for.
Chase, Henri, and Jacques crouched in the darkness, concealed by the willows along the lakeshore waiting for Marcus to begin his nightly wanderings. They didn't have long to wait. Marcus appeared, striding as best he could toward the dock, talking aloud; "This better be something damned special. I'm ready to bury my cock in something……" and the rest was unintelligible.
"Ready, Jacques?" Chase whispered.
Jacques nodded and slipped quietly into the dark and water of the lake, diving under the surface, and swimming to the dock, where he popped up, unseen by Marcus. Marcus neared the shore line, looked around, seeking the special treat. Jacques dove under water again and swam to where the water was about waist deep, and stood up. He immediately gained Marcus' attention and began a slow, inviting walk toward shore and a very erect and excited Marcus.
Coming toward Marcus was a boy, not just any boy, but young, no more than twelve, thirteen at the outside, positively virginal and ripe for the fucking, slim, desirable, narrow hips, beautiful in face, an enticing, welcoming smile, a smattering of dark pubic hair adorning his otherwise hairless crotch, and drooping down from that small bush, was a long, thick, uncut cock hanging nicely over two nicely sized balls in a smooth, hairless pouch.
Marcus smirked lasciviously, slowly stroked his hard cock in anticipation, salivating with eagerness to taste and experience the opportunity to suck and fuck such a handsome young sprite. The boy walked closer, Marcus's cock bounced, he shifted from one foot to the other, impatient to have the boy. Closer, and closer the boy came and Marcus spread out his arms to welcome him. "Come to Poppa," he snarled.
The boy smiled broadly, almost as if begging Marcus to take him, waggled his cock at the eager man, bent over, and pushed his nose into Marcus's crotch. Only it wasn't a boy who rammed his nose into Marcus' crotch, it was a wolf- large, menacing, snarling, teeth bared, tongue lolling, and eyes snapping.
Marcus screamed at the sight and the feel of the wolf's head next to his cock, falling over backward, trying to propel himself from the creature by crab-walking backward using his hands and feet to push himself up the beach, but the beast pursued him, continuing to snap, shake its head viciously, and threaten Marcus. Marcus continued to scream as the wolf snapped and gnashed its teeth in an apparent attempt to attack and devour the terror-stricken man.
The screaming, horrific shouts of distress reverberated through the night, bringing lights to lodge windows by persons awakened by the ruckus outside, as Marcus continued crying out in anguish; agonized cries for help wailing from him, fearful any moment the beast would gobble up his cock and balls.
Large flood lights popped on around the outside of the lodge and the pounding of feet could be heard as security and other employees raced toward the calls of distress. Marcus lay naked, babbling almost incoherently about wild creatures, wolves attacking and eating him, spirits haunting the lodge, of people dying, and mumbling of little boys living in his bedroom. A quick perusal of the area by employees detected no one else in the area, not a wolf, not a track, not a sign of anything Marcus mumbled about.
"Probably doped up," a staff member commented. "He usually is every night."
"Let's get him to his room," the more experienced night guard said to the newest one with him. "I'll let the old man know what's going on. He's going to be pissed. I'll sit with the kid the rest of the night to make certain he doesn't try to hurt himself."
The next morning, after listening to the guard tell again what occurred, Marcello made arrangements to take Marcus to their rural home in Illinois. Another call to his broker to sell some stocks he felt was losing value for him, and his business was taken care of for the day.
The named stock sold, at a loss, and Marcus Giordano was found dead a week later of an apparent overdose, according to the county coroner, of carfentanil, an opioid ten thousand times more potent than morphine and one hundred times more potent than fentanyl. It is most often used on large animals such as elephants, rhinos, and big cats.
Marcello was awakened by the cacophony of yipping and yowling of a nearby pack of wolves, disturbing his sporadic sleep, causing him to wonder what they might be celebrating. Perhaps a fresh kill or welcoming the full moon? Either way, the sounds of the pack, as close as it sounded, wasn't unusual. Wolves were becoming more and more common in the area. He enjoyed listening to them, but avoided any encounter with the critters, not wishing to become the source of their celebrating or relishing a kill.
Personally, at his age, he'd had just about his fill of death and murder, but he was certain there was no other way to preserve his way of life and wealth. In any case which might be remotely associated with him, he'd made certain the tracks leading to him were wafted away by the winds of bribery. The problem he now faced concerned an heir to his estate. His will designated the surviving male member of his immediate family would be his heir, thinking at the time either Demarco, then Marcus would succeed him, keeping it all in the family, so to speak.
The only male heir remaining was David, leaving Marcello in a quandary.
"Damned shame," he muttered aloud, scratching, with one hand, the rash appearing the past two days on his legs, and massaging his sore chest with the other. "There must be someone I could trust."
David wasn't a candidate for inheritance as far as Marcello was concerned. "Not only is the little shit a queer as a deer, he seems to think he has balls enough to follow through on his threat to cause my death after his playmates were eliminated."
Marcello decided he's contact his attorney, toward the end of summer after David was shipped off to the special school, and make some changes to his will. "I'll rot in hell before he ever inherits a dime from me," he said aloud and settled back down trying to go back to sleep.
Four nights later, his sleep was interrupted again by the ache in his chest and dreams of snakes crawling and slithering about in his bedroom. One particularly large snake, a huge python, slowly moved across the bedroom floor, wiggling back and forth in locomotion, neared his bed, reared up, and looked at him with yellow, beady eyes, forked tongue flicking about seeking his heat, and hissed,
"Hello, Marcello," and began crawling up on his bed.
Marcello's fears of creepy, crawly creatures, including snakes caused him to tense, then shiver in fright, yet, he was unable to escape the beast, his body weak with fear.
"Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me," the snake jeered in its high, threatening voice, gliding up his body further until they were face to face. The snakes face morphed into the face of his dead wife, Delores.
"Murder is murder, Marcello, and a terrible thing, an act most foul, especially when it's committed by a husband on his wife, a father on his son, and a grandfather on his grandson. It is particularly heinous when two young, innocent boys are murdered for what they are and who they love. Soon, Marcello, revenge is going to be exacted on you. Before that happens, husband, let me give you one final hug," and the snake began coiling its body around Marcello's chest.
The pain was becoming excruciating, unbearable, constricting his chest, causing him to break out in a sweat, pinning his arms, adding weight to them so he couldn't lift them to fight the snake. He needed help, not only to wake from this nightmare, but to relieve him of the heaviness in his chest.
Marcello closed his eyes a second, tried to catch his breath, and when he opened them, David stood by his bed looking down at him.
"Thank god," he sighed, "David, I need your help getting rid of this snake."
He hesitated, looked closer, and commented, "Where are your clothes, boy? You're naked!"
David smiled, "I won't need them, Grandfather, for what will happen. I told you someday, when you least expected it, I'd seek my revenge."
Marcello stared at the boy, almost daring him to follow through on his threat. As he watched, David shifted from the teen grandson to a fierce, tooth baring, fangs snapping large wolf. Growling menacingly, the wolf stepped closer. Convinced he was about to be torn into fleshy, bloody chunks, Marcello, horrified at the fate awaiting him, tried to scream for help, but nothing came out. Just as the wolf's face neared his, he felt the snake's fangs sink into the middle of his chest. His last thought was "Pythons don't have fangs!"
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