Mark Wildyr's Blog, page 16

SIX-SHOOTER SEX

  markwildyr.com, Post #94
Courtesy of PixabayApparently kissing booths aren’t big with my readers. Readership fell off sharply with the last week’s story, TY. Maybe this one will fare better.

*****SIX-SHOOTER SEX

          The hair on the nape of my neck bristled as I rode under the brace of Texas Longhorns crowning the gate of the immense Rocking Bar Ranch, and the ride up the half-mile wagon track to the ramshackle ranch house didn’t make me rest easier. As a troubleshooter for the local Grange, I was in enemy territory.          Buggies and hansoms and riding horses littered the front of the place. Old man Jemsen was throwing a hell of a party, and now that I was here, I wasn’t sure why. After dismounting and ground hitching Blue Blazes, my blue roan, I shook a finger at him.          “Don’t wanna have to come looking for you.”          The horse rumbled an answer.          A shout pulled my attention to a man walking toward me. “Rowley Cooper, as I live and breathe. Ain’t you pressing your luck?”          I eyed the good-looking, blond-headed cowpoke, happy to see a familiar face, even if it belonged to a Rocking Bar hand. “Hell, Sandy, the invite says everybody’s welcome.” I referred to the crude handbills stapled to every fencepost in the county announcing the rancher’s blowout.          Sandy Peters extended a hand and gave me the eye. “You figure that includes farmers? And I doubt the invite was meant for a hired Grange gunman.”          “Sandy, I ain’t a hired gun no more’n you. I ride the farmers’ fences and try to head off trouble.”          “And you’d pull that six-gun you’re wearing fast enough if you seen any.”          I nodded. “Just like you would. And we’d both have a hell of a time hitting the side of that barn over yonder. You gonna jaw all day or do you want me to buy you a drink?”          “There’s drink aplenty inside.          “Hell, Sandy, I ain’t talking ‘bout candy-ass wine. I got hard liquor in my saddlebags.”          “Wouldn’t mind a little hooch, but we gotta be quick. All the gals gonna get taken, we don’t hurry. Sandy eyed the bottle I pulled out. “Don’t wanna share with a passel a cowpokes, we better go down past the barn a piece.”          We took turns swigging from the bottle as we skirted the social activity livening up the pasture back of the ranch house. Aware of a sound behind us, we turned. Blue Blazes stared at us through big, innocent eyes.          Sandy gave a soft hiccup. “Thought he was hitched.”          “Is,” I replied. Ground hitched.”          “Don’t look like it. He’s following us.”          “Ground hitched don’t mean he can’t follow us. Where the hell we going?”          “They’s a hot spring down in that copse a oaks. Good grassy spot. We’ll polish off the bottle and go look us up a couple a gals.”          I laughed. “They all took by now. They’s ten feller to ever gal in this county.”          We staggered down to the stand of oaks where Sandy looked up the neck of the empty bottle and addressed the problem of women again.          “Rowley, I figure I’m the best-looking poke in this countryside, and you’re the second best. That oughta count for something. What the hell happened to all the whisky?”          I marched back to Blue Blazes and retrieved another bottle. “You drunk it up. Don’t be such a pig over this one. And whatta you mean you’re the best looking? I got you beat by a mile.”          “No way, and I’m the best hung, too,” Sandy said, groping his crotch.          “Hell, you say! I got the biggest one in the county. The state.”          “We’ll just see about that,” Sandy said, unbuckling his holster and draping his six-shooter over Blaze’s saddle horn. Before I could blink twice, he was standing there necked as a jay bird. “Well, come on, shuck ‘em and let’s measure.”          In minutes, we faced one another buck naked, our peckers pointing like aimed six-guns. Half-drunk—or maybe whole drunk—we argued over who was biggest.          “Close,” Sandy admitted, “but I can make mine bigger.” He grabbed his thing and started pumping.          “No fair!” I complained, grabbing my own equipment and skinning the pole.          A minute later, we were going at it seriously, neither one of us worrying over who was bigger than who. I watched the good-looking cowboy while I worked, noticing that he was taking a good gander at me, as well.          He got off a shot first, but not by much. After a bunch of grunting and groaning and oohing and aahing, I caught my breath.          “That was passing strange,” I said. “You ever done that with a man before?”          “Y-yeah,” Sandy panted, closing his blue eyes a moment. “Coupla year back me’n Willis Handy drove a few cows up from down south, and we done it one night. You?”          “Hell no, just women. When I can catch one.”          Sandy looked me full in the eye. “That was right nice. How come we never done this before?”          “I-I don’t know. Thought about it some but didn’t know how. What… what do we do now?”          The blond-headed cowpoke standing in front of me, gave a smile that made him look like a big, lanky imp.          “They’s a sink hole over there full of hot sulfur water. What say we go take a warm bath? We can work on the bottle while we soak. No sense hurrying back. All the gals is took for sure by now. ‘Sides, I can show you something else me’n Willis done.”
*****
I wonder what Willis taught Sandy? Any thoughts on the answer. Looks to me like the ladies are going to be denied the attentions of the county’s two best-looking studs from now on.
Another plug for my Okie buddy: Don Travis’ next BJ Vinson mystery series novel, The Voxlightner Scandal has been scheduled for release on November 19, 2019. The following is a buy link:  http://www.dsppublications.com/books/upcoming-releases-c
Now my continuing plug (read plea) for my own work. Amazon permits you to read a short passage of my novels, Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns. I also believe the STARbooks-published River Otter, Echoes of the Flute, and Medicine Hair are still up. I sure would like to get the final book in the Cut Hand Series, Wastelakapi… Beloved, published, but it’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.
My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:Website and blog: markwildyr.comEmail: markwildyr@aol.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyrTwitter: @markwildyr
The following are buy links for CUT HAND:
DSP Publications: https://www.dsppublications.com/books/cut-hand-by-mark-wildyr-420-bAmazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cut-Hand-Mark-Wildyr-ebook/dp/B073D86RWViBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/cut-hand/id1256084273Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/cut-hand-2
And now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!
Until next time.
Mark
New posts at 6:00 a.m. on the first and third Thursdays of the month.

Mark Wildyr: TY

Mark Wildyr: TY: markwildyr.com, Post #93     Courtesy of commons.wikimedia.org Headhunter was a long series with mixed results. Got a record numbe...

TY

markwildyr.com, Post #93   Courtesy of commons.wikimedia.orgHeadhunter was a long series with mixed results. Got a record number of daily hits during part of it and very at other times. Picked up at the end, so guess everyone wanted in on the finale.
Today, I want to do a piece of flash fiction. Please let me know how you like it.
*****
TY
          “Tyrone Harwood, or do my eyes deceive me? You the kissing king of Langley High now?”          The deep, masculine voice surprised me, given where I was.          The school’s annual carnival was the big fund-raising event. Frankly, I’d have enjoyed it more if they hadn’t lassoed me into a booth, although I was both embarrassed and excited by the kind of booth it was. The senior class’ kissing booth was the place for action. Or that’s what the banner over the booth claimed.          How’s that for a switch? Gals paying guys for a smooch. According to a lot of girls from junior high forward, I’m a good kisser, giving me an undeserved rep as a ladies’ man. In all honesty, deep kissing and sucking on a few boobs was about all I’d done.          It turned out all right because a lot of girls showed up and paid their dollar. I got to kiss a few new lips. Some of them hung around and flirted afterward. But now, everyone was gathered around the barbecue booth filling empty stomachs.          The voice that startled me belonged to Mark Bilders, a kid a year or two older than I am who dropped out of school last year. It would have been easy to like Mark if he’d let you. He was smart but not book smart, if you know what I mean. He always left the impression of a balloon about to burst. Good-looking, lanky with hard muscles but not real bulked up. That was the whole impression he gave, hard! From his marble black eyes to his little toe, the guy was hard. He leaned over the booth to offer a hand. I took it. Hard.          “N-not really a kissing or any other kind of king,” I responded to his opening remark. “Just got lassoed into the job. Hello, Mark. How you doing?”          “Great,” he said, glancing at the sign mounted over the booth. He took a quick glance around before plunking down a dollar.”          “Whoa, man. That’s a donation, right?”          “Hell, no. I’m buying the merchandise.”          “Wh-what merchandise?          He pointed upward. “Sign says kisses, dollar each.”          Sweat popped out on my upper lip and my voice rose. “You’re buying a kiss? From me?”          “Sign says all comers.”          “Yeah, but….” I took a ragged breath. “But I don’t think it means guys.”          “You discriminating, huh?”          “Hey, no way! I’m not gonna kiss you right—”          “Oh, I get that,” he interrupted. “We’ll do it in private later.”          “That’s not what I meant! I’m not going to kiss you at all. No way, man.”          He nudged his dollar bill lying on the little counter. “You sell kisses, Ty. I’m buying one. See you later.”          I’m sure my mouth hung open as he strode away. Not for the first time, I noticed a slight strut to his walk. Mark was considered a hard case when he was in school. Came from the wrong side of the tracks, if we’d had tracks in our town, and ran with a rough crowd although he was a decent guy when he was away from his buddies. All the girls thought he was the handsomest thing at school, but they were afraid of him.           He’d always had a quirky sense of humor, so that was probably what was going on now. I watched as he joined a couple of toughs across the way. They sauntered on up the mall, making noise and taking up space. They reminded me of the gang guys in West Side Story. No respect. None, whatsoever.          The guy relieving me in the booth came in time for me to get my share of the barbecue. M. J. Jennings wanted to hook up with me, but for some reason I didn’t ask her. Just wanted to stay loose and have some fun. So I ended up going home alone that night, and I probably shouldn’t have. When I headed for my car at the far end of the parking lot, somebody fell into step beside me.          Startled, I halted in my tracks. “Mark! What th—”          “Hey, man, didn’t mean to make your balls shrivel. Just came for what I paid for.”          “Mark, I don’t kiss boys.”          “Not asking you to. I want you to kiss a man. Me.”          “I don’t kiss men, either,” I said. “And I don’t kiss you in particular.”          “What’s the matter? Afraid of me or worried I’ll start something you can’t handle?”          “What the hell you want to kiss me for anyway?”          He shrugged. “Never kissed a guy before. Saw your booth and decided to see what it was like.”  He leveled a look at me that I caught even in the darkness. “Glad it was you. You’re a good-looking son of a bitch.”          “Yeah, well, tough. I’m not gonna kiss you right out here for everyone to see.”          He moved so quickly I was taken by surprise. I found myself flat against the shadowed wall of a nearby building.          “Now we’re not so public.” He pinned my arms to my sides and moved his head toward me. I was so startled that I didn’t even try to avoid his lips. They touched mine gently. His tongue forced my mouth open and raked the enamel of my teeth before invading my oral cavity. I caught my breath.           After a moment, he broke away. “Interesting,” was all he said before walking away in that insolent strut he affected.          I stayed where I was for five minutes trying to figure out what had happened. Oh, I know the dude kissed me, but that’s not what I meant. Something happened! To me. Inside. I liked that damned kiss! Man, how could that be? I could still feel his long frame pressed against me, the warmth of his full groin against mine. What the hell? What the living hell!
*****
“Interesting” Mark said as he walked away. Does that mean he’ll be coming back for more? More than Ty ever considered giving. Or is that true? Has the kiss Ty “felt” kindled something inside the kid. That’s something you’ll have to answer for yourself.
A reminder that I’ve now returned to my regular postng schedule.
A plug for my other Okie buddy: Don Travis’ next BJ Vinson mystery series novel, The Voxlightner Scandal has been scheduled for release on November 19, 2019. The following is a buy link:  http://www.dsppublications.com/books/upcoming-releases-c
Now my continuing plug (read plea) for my own work. Amazon permits you to read a short passage of my novels, Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns. I also believe the STARbooks-published River Otter, Echoes of the Flute, and Medicine Hair are still up. I sure would like to get the final book in the Cut Hand Series, Wastelakapi… Beloved, published, but it’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.
My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:Website and blog: markwildyr.comEmail: markwildyr@aol.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyrTwitter: @markwildyr
The following are buy links for CUT HAND:
DSP Publications: https://www.dsppublications.com/books/cut-hand-by-mark-wildyr-420-bAmazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cut-Hand-Mark-Wildyr-ebook/dp/B073D86RWViBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/cut-hand/id1256084273Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/cut-hand-2
And now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!
Until next time.
Mark
New posts at 6:00 a.m. on the first and third Thursdays of the month.

Mark Wildyr: Headhunter – Aftermath

Mark Wildyr: Headhunter – Aftermath: markwildyr.com, Post #92 Courtesy of Publicdomainpictures Diego has had his revenge on each of the men who gang raped him, so ...

Headhunter – Aftermath

markwildyr.com, Post #92


Courtesy of PublicdomainpicturesDiego has had his revenge on each of the men who gang raped him, so what more is there to say? Well, sometimes actions have consequences. Read on.
*****HEADHUNTER
AFTERMATH
Saturday morning, Diego woke feeling depressed. It was as if revenge had given him a goal, a meaning to his life besides eating, sleeping, and working. Now, that was gone. He didn’t even get any satisfaction from remembering how he’d evened the score.He’d just finished a long, hot shower when the doorbell rang. He wrapped a towel around his middle and opened the door a crack. Rocco stood there with a bag in his hand.“I come in peace, man.”Diego stepped back to admit Rocco before returning to the bathroom to comb his hair. He ditched the towel and shrugged into a robe.“You like Chinese?” the handsome young man asked as Diego came back into the room.“Yeah, sure.”“Got some Dim Sum.” Rocco removed a couple of steamer baskets from the bag.“What kind?”“Usual kind. Pork and cabbage, mini Cantonese spring rolls, taro coquettes. That kind of thing. For dessert, I brought egg custard and mango pudding, your choice.”“Let me get dressed.”“The robe’s okay. Don’t want to let the stuff get cold.”Still wary, Diego brought out some utensils and napkins and they settled in the living room on the couch to eat off the coffee table. The food was good, and they ate in silence for a moment.         “Sorry I didn’t bring tea,” Rocco said. “They say in China Dim Sum is always served with tea. Dim Sum…that means “to touch your heart,” you know.         “What are you doing here, Rocco? You sure as shit didn’t come to break bread and educate me on Chinese Dim Sum.”         “I don’t know why I’m here. It’s just that….” His voice trailed off. He tried again. “It’s just that I keep thinking about when I crawled in that motel bed with you. I wished it had been another way. You know, without those other guys gawking and you being out of it.”         “So you’re saying you liked it?”         “Hell, no!” He started to get his back up, but relaxed. “Yeah. I did. I’d already decided I was going to try it again after I whipped your ass at the gym the other night”         “But you didn’t whip my ass.”         “No. So I wondered. Well, I wondered how you felt about it when you…you know.”         “You got a double helping of me. I only got a blow from you.”         Rocco flushed. “Yeah. I know. But still—”         “I felt the same way. I wished it had been under other circumstances.”         “These are other circumstances.”         “Yeah. And you do owe me a turn.”         Rocco stood abruptly. “Shit, what am I doing? I’m willing to bet a month’s pay you’re a man… a real man. And I know for damned sure I am. So what’s going on?”         Diego shrugged. “I guess we’re learning something about ourselves we didn’t know.”         Rocco reached out and pulled Diego’s robe open for a long, frank look. The man shook his head. “Hell, I’m getting steamed just looking at you.”         “You have me at a disadvantage.”         Rocco tore his shirt over his head, slipped out of his loafers, and dropped his trousers. Diego responded immediately.         Rocco’s shoulders drooped. “What do we do now?”         Diego stepped forward and put his arms around the other man. “Whatever we feel like, I guess. He put his lips to Rocco’s. The man flinched for a moment, and then put his hand behind Diego’s head and drew him into a hard kiss. Their tongues did battle with one another. After a long moment, they parted.         “Shit!” Rocco said.         “Damn!”         “I’m doomed. I’ve never felt a kiss like that one.”         Diego brushed a hand over his eyes. “Me neither.”         “And from a dude, too. A hunky dude.” He held Diego at arm’s length for a moment and then said, “A hunky dude with fur on his chest and spots in his hair and eyes that glow in the dark. What’s with that, anyway?”         “My grandfather was a jaguar, didn’t you know that?” Diego pulled Rocco back to him.         Later, after he stopped panting from a dynamite ejaculation, Diego looked at his partner's loopy smile. "What are you thinking?"         “We’re even,” the saturnine young man said. “Next time, it’s my turn.”                                                 THE END

*****Well, Whadda ya know? Those two macho men did manage to get together again. And it sounds as if it’s gonna happen again and again and….
Sigh. Would it were me!
Remember, I will now return to my regular posting schedule for August. See you then.

Amazon permits you to read a short passage of my novels, Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns. I also believe the STARbooks-published River Otter, Echoes of the Flute, and Medicine Hair are still up. I sure would like to get the final book in the Cut Hand Series, Wastelakapi… Beloved, published, but it’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.
My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:Website and blog: markwildyr.comEmail: markwildyr@aol.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyrTwitter: @markwildyr
The following are buy links for CUT HAND:
DSP Publications: https://www.dsppublications.com/books/cut-hand-by-mark-wildyr-420-bAmazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cut-Hand-Mark-Wildyr-ebook/dp/B073D86RWViBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/cut-hand/id1256084273Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/cut-hand-2
And now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!
Until next time.
Mark
New posts at 6:00 a.m. on the first and third Thursdays of the month.

Headhunter – The Leader

markwildyr.com, Post #91
Courtesy of PexSnap.comDiego’s pulled it off three times in a row. Can he make it four? Or will someone termed “the leader” prove too smart for him. Let’s find out.



*****HEADHUNTER

THE LEADER
The next morning, Diego took out the piece of paper Stocky had provided him. The final name on the list was Richard Robins. Ritchie… the Leader. This one stumped him for a while. The guy worked in a law office downtown, and according to Stocky, spent his time at the country club except when he went slumming with his blue-collar buddies. Lately, that hadn’t been happening. Diego’s gang rape had splintered the group.As he struggled for a way to handle the final member of the gang without exciting suspicion, Diego finally decided he would simply go downtown and confront the man.Friday afternoon, armed with a description of Leader’s car from Stocky, Diego prowled the downtown parking structure beneath Ritchie’s office until he discovered the vehicle. Around five-thirty, Leader appeared in a spiffy blue suit and tie, carrying a briefcase. As the too-pretty man unlocked the door of his Mercedes, Headhunter pushed off from the post he’d been leaning against and walked toward the vehicle. Some sixth sense must have warned Leader, because he whirled… and immediately took off running.Astounded, Diego resisted the urge to follow. Instead, he stopped to consider the possibilities. Someone had tipped Leader off. Was the guy going for the authorities? Not likely. He had to know the cohesiveness of the gang was broken. Somebody would talk, and he’d be exposed as a rapist. The guy worked in a law office, so he couldn’t afford for that kind of crap to come out.Making his decision, Diego walked out of the parking structure and down the block. If he was being watched, he wanted to be seen leaving. Once around the corner, he re-entered the garage by another entrance and returned to the car. The keys still hung from the door lock where Leader had left them in his panic. He crawled into the back seat and lay down on the floorboard.Within five minutes the door opened, and Diego felt the weight of a body in the driver’s seat. The briefcase struck his calf as Leader slung it into the back. The motor caught, and the Mercedes raced out of the structure. Leader barely brought the car to a halt before turning onto the street and pealing out. Diego could feel the driver’s tension peak every time he halted for a traffic light.“Damn! Damn! Damn!” Leader muttered. “Gonna be all right. Relax, Robins, relax. The Indian fucker’s spooked. Miles from here by now.”Headhunter mentally shook his head. The guy talked to himself! And said all the wrong things.Ritchie really took off once he gained the Interstate. Risking life and limb to an automobile accident, Headhunter sat up in the rear seat directly behind the driver. It took Leader almost a full minute to spot him in the rearview mirror. The German automobile skidded across two lanes of traffic before Ritchie regained control.“You! What’re you doing in my car? I’ll have you arrested. They’ll throw away the key. Get out! You hear me? Get out.”Headhunter glanced at the speedometer. “At seventy miles an hour? I don’t think so.”“What…what do you want?” Leader licked his upper lip nervously. His green eyes flicked back and forth between the mirror and the roadway.“You know what I want or else you wouldn’t have run.”Leader wiped perspiration from his lip. “How’d you find out? Who ratted on us? Chuck?”Headhunter pursed his lips. “No one ratted on you. No one needed to, you asshole. I reached down inside and replayed the whole night like a video tape. I saw every one of you bastards, and what you did to me.”“You couldn’t. Nobody remembers things after they take that stuff. Not as much as I gave you.”“Maybe nobody else does, but I did. I remember you especially. Yeah, I remember it all.”“I’m sorry, man. It was wrong. We shouldn’t have done it. Look, I’ll make it right. I’ll write you a check. Whatever you want.”“What I want is to pay you back, not have you pay me.”“Think about it, Diego. You don’t want to do this. You take my check, and it’ll be over. You can spend my money on things that will last a long time.” He laughed nervously. “You know, give up instant gratification for prolonged satisfaction.”“If you knew as much about my tribe as you claim to, you’d know we savor vengeance for a long, long time. In another time and another place, I’d have taken your head. Now I’m just going to take your ass.”“Please, man. Don’t do this.”“Any way we do it, it’s not going to be easy for you. But I can make it a lot harder than it has to be. It’s up to you.”“You…you’ll just do it to me, and then it’s over?”“I’ll do exactly what you did to me, and then it’s over. Who tipped you off? John? The Pipsqueak?”Leader nodded absently, too wrapped up in his own predicament to be concerned over possible consequences to his friend. “Yeah, John.”“Then you’ve been expecting me. That makes it better. You’ve been worrying about me for weeks. Good.”“What… what do you want me to do?”“That was too easy. But appropriate. Let me tell you what happens if you try anything. Ask Chuck about the poison I have. A savage like me wouldn’t even think twice about administering a dose. Not when my manhood’s been attacked.”“All right, you’ve made your point. What do you want me to do?” Sweat dripped off the end of the man’s nose. Headhunter chuckled. Leader better get himself another career. He probably wasn’t a very good lawyer.“Drive to a motel and rent a room.”Headhunter watched through the window as Leader paid for the room and picked up a key. He saw the man hesitate at the house phone but step outside without using it. He walked around to the back and unlocked a door. Headhunter was at his shoulder when he entered. Leader eyed the bed nervously.“Look, man, won’t you reconsider? I know I did wrong, but isn’t there another way to make it right?”“You act like you’ve never given a blowjob before, Ritchie.”“I haven’t. Never!”“Never been fucked?”“No! For God’s sake, that’s the truth. I swear.”“First time for everything. Besides, if you didn’t want to do it, why are you here in this room with me? I haven’t laid a hand on you.”Leader swallowed hard. “I’m… I’m afraid of you.”Headhunter nodded. “Wise man. Now get undressed.”Headhunter watched as he complied. Over the next thirty minutes, Headhunter was almost as miserable as his victim. The man had a good body—in a rich-boy, country club sort of way, but was so androgynous looking, he failed to excite Diego. Nonetheless, after a prolonged effort, Leader managed to do what Diego wanted. It was a disappointing ejaculation, but at least the bill had been paid.Angry with himself and at these bozos who’d led him into this, Headhunter fell over onto his back and ordered Leader to clean him up. As he watched the blond wash him, he was repulsed by the man’s precise movements. He brushed him aside and got up to dress.“Is it over?” he asked. “Or are you going to try some legal shit?”Leader mumbled something.“What?”“It’s over. But…but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about it.”“You think I want anyone to know I fucked your candy ass?”“I guess not. Thanks.”Thanks, the man said. Hell! What kind of vengeance was that?
*****Not so tough… or smart, for that matter, was he? How did he assume leadership of that bunch. Probably because the others were awed by a law degree. But as he found out, Diego believed in curanderas and spells and Jaguar, not sheepskins.
So is that the end? I wouldn't do that to you. We’ve got one more episode to go.

Amazon permits you to read a short passage of my novels, Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns. I also believe the STARbooks-published River Otter, Echoes of the Flute, and Medicine Hair are still up. I sure would like to get the final book in the Cut Hand Series, Wastelakapi… Beloved, published, but it’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.
My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:Website and blog: markwildyr.comEmail: markwildyr@aol.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyrTwitter: @markwildyr
The following are buy links for CUT HAND:
DSP Publications: https://www.dsppublications.com/books/cut-hand-by-mark-wildyr-420-bAmazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cut-Hand-Mark-Wildyr-ebook/dp/B073D86RWViBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/cut-hand/id1256084273Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/cut-hand-2
And now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!
Until next time.
Mark
New posts at 6:00 a.m. on each Thursday for the life of this serial; thereafter, the first and third Thursdays of the month.

Headhunter – Diego (3)

markwildyr.com, Post #90
Courtesy of PexSnap.comSo far, so good. But what kind of toll have his actions taken on Diego? Maybe we’ll get a clue in this episode when he goes dream traveling again.
Read on.

*****HEADHUNTER
DIEGO
Diego’s examination of his conscience was different that weekend, but it was Sunday before he turned to what really bothered him. With the first two, it had been an eye for an eye. With Rocco, it had been different. Not subtly different, but powerfully different. He had always recognized the man’s physical draw, but in the end, he had wanted the man. Carnally. Lustfully. He came alive at the touch of the man’s smooth, firm flesh. Like he did for a woman. Why? Did Rocco feel any of this? Sense his attraction. Perceive his weakness?That thought came as a shock. It was a weakness. To want a man lustfully put him in that man’s power. The attraction to a woman was not a weakness because it was accepted as a norm. But to expose such a desire for a man forever put him in the power of anyone who recognized the desire.So disturbed by the revelation, Diego delayed any further action. Although it galled him that Leader—who had instigated the whole thing—would escape his righteous fate, he decided to let the whole thing die. Until he had the dream.Even in his sleep, Headhunter realized he was restless, tossing from one side of his bed to the other. His muscles tightened when he soared above the thick canopy covering the jungle of his homeland. He desperately tried to turn back, but to no avail. Something… someone drew him onward. Natala.When the mists cleared from his vision, she stood in the center of a clearing, a gigantic cat purring at her side. This was Jaguar, The God of the Underground himself. Powerful, malevolent, benevolent, all seeing, all-knowing. So it was Jaguar who told the old bruja what had happened to him. And now, Jaguar probed his mind and sensed his doubts, his hesitation.The old woman seemed as dynamic as the magnificent animal at her side despite her frailty. She studied the ethereal Diego calmly, although her anger pressed against him hotly.“Your task is not completed.” Her voice, not a voice that he heard clearly. Some rational part of Diego’s mind noted he was dreaming in color. The jungle was green; Jaguar, yellow and black and and white; Natala, brown and black. Although she must have been well past seventy, her hair and eyes were glossy black. An emerald at her withered neck gleamed like a frozen green flame.Diego’s formless self straightened beneath her stare. “It is enough. I have acted like a man.”“Yes, like a man. Until you found one whose flesh burned your manhood. Do you think it has never happened before? Pah! More often than you know, child. At some time in their lives most men have lusted after a man. That is nothing. What issomething is to desire one worthy of your lust. But no matter. Your task is not complete. You must become Headhunter once again and deal with the plotter. Do this first, and then puzzle out your future.”Shamed that his secret thoughts had been revealed to her, Diego was nonetheless helpless to deny it. In fact, he now admitted what he had only permitted to roam the fringes of his mind. His desire for Rocco Conseco was real. As real as his lust for a woman.Then Jaguar roared, and through his roaring, spoke. “You have heard her words. Seek out this coward who steals your seed by stealing your mind.”Desperately seeking to hold onto his vision, Diego felt it slip away. Jaguar became obscured by a thick mist that rose from the jungle floor. Everything disappeared except for the head and shoulders of his grandmother. As her insubstantial image floated amid the fog, he understood that he would never see her alive again. She would soon roam the forest at Jaguar’s side, unseen but not unfelt.Diego woke in his own bed drenched in sweat. He wished his father were here instead of ministering to the sick in some hot, dusty Moroccan village.
 *****Okay, so he’s human and has a conscience. But why would it raise its head now? Could it be that the encounter with Rocco shook Diego a little? But with his resolve restored, he has one more member of the gang to bring to account. The Leader. Can we assume from that name he’ll be the toughest one to crack?
We’ll get our answer next week.
Amazon permits you to read a short passage of my novels, Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns. I also believe the STARbooks-published River Otter, Echoes of the Flute, and Medicine Hair are still up. I sure would like to get the final book in the Cut Hand Series, Wastelakapi… Beloved, published, but it’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.
My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:Website and blog: markwildyr.comEmail: markwildyr@aol.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyrTwitter: @markwildyr
The following are buy links for CUT HAND:
DSP Publications: https://www.dsppublications.com/books/cut-hand-by-mark-wildyr-420-bAmazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cut-Hand-Mark-Wildyr-ebook/dp/B073D86RWViBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/cut-hand/id1256084273Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/cut-hand-2
And now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!
Until next time.
Mark
New posts at 6:00 a.m. on each Thursday for the life of this serial; thereafter, the first and third Thursdays of the month.

Mark Wildyr: Headhunter – Rocco

Mark Wildyr: Headhunter – Rocco: markwildyr.com, Post #89              Courtesy of PexSnap.com As Diego goes about exacting his revenge, things are going swimmingl...

Headhunter – Rocco

markwildyr.com, Post #89            
Courtesy of PexSnap.comAs Diego goes about exacting his revenge, things are going swimmingly. Can this keep up or will William Conseco—known as Rocco—be the fly in the ointment. What pretext will Diego use to get who he considers to be the only real man in the flaky group isolated and under his control?
Let’s take a look.
*****HEADHUNTER
ROCCO
A worm of guilt worried Diego over the weekend. One minute he wallowed in self-doubt; the next he reminded himself what had happened to him was no dream, no nightmare. He reviewed things and decided to go to the next name on the list. William Conseco, known as Rocco to his friends, worked at a gypsum wallboard plant north of town, a place where it would be difficult to have an “accidental” meeting. This man was different; he wouldn’t go for any of the zombie bullshit that panicked the first two. And he wouldn’t let anyone arrange a date for him. Of course, the paralytic poison would work, but how to isolate him in order to administer it presented a problem.In the end, he asked Stocky where the guy hung out. After naming a sports bar on the north side, the man made a pitch.“Look, Diego. I’ll go with you again—willingly—if you’ll call this thing off. I’ll do whatever you want.”Diego eyed his workmate. “I believe you liked it. But no deal. They’ve got to pay. All of them.”Diego shot pool at the Eight Ball on East Lomas for three nights running before Rocco showed up. The tall young man did a double take when he spotted him but walked on over to a vacant table with a couple of guys…coworkers from the plant, probably. A bit later, Rocco stopped by on his way to the men’s room.“Hi, it’s Diego, isn’t it?” He held out a hand. His grip was firm, confident.“Yeah. That’s me. How you been?”“Doing great!” The dark eyes leveled a speculative look at him. “You?”“Okay. That was quite a party we had that night, wasn’t it?”“Yeah. You went a little loopy, but it was okay. Didn’t know you hung out here.”“Just discovered it by accident. Seems like a decent place. Like to handle the cue sticks now and then. You up for a game?”“Let me go drain the pipe, and you’re on.”Wavering because he felt this man could have been a friend under other circumstances, Diego steeled his resolve with images of the lean, muscular frame atop him without his permission.They were an even match on the billiard table, splitting four games. Then he joined Rocco and his friends at their table. The night passed pleasantly without an opening, and Diego returned to his apartment unfulfilled.Over the next two weeks, Headhunter saw Rocco at the lounge three or four times, but always in the company of others. Finally, Diego watched from his car in the crowded parking lot of the popular hangout until he discerned a pattern. Most of the guys from the plant drove to the bar in their own cars, usually arriving at about the same time. After another week, his patience paid off. Rocco drove in alone on Friday evening about five minutes after the others arrived. Headhunter met him as he exited his vehicle.“Diego!” the good-looking young man exclaimed, genuine pleasure in his eyes.“Hello, Rocco.”“Buy you a drink?”“Naw. You owe me a lot more than that.” He fingered the silver ring on his right hand.“Huh?” The man turned to him in confusion.“You remember that first night we met?”Rocco frowned uncertainly. “Yeah. We put away a lot of booze.”“Yeah, and took advantage of me afterward. You shouldn’t have done that.”Headhunter saw denial flare and die in the brown eyes. “Naw, I shouldn’t. I’ve felt bad about that ever since.”“Why’d you do it, Rocco? I figure we could have been friends.”“I thought we were.” The man eyed him nervously. “I don’t know. Mob mentality, maybe. It was Ritchie’s idea. Said he’d done some research and you tribal guys fooled around with one another all the time.”Headhunter shook his head. “I expected that of the others, but I never pegged you for a mental zombie. You think for yourself.”“You’re right. That was a cop-out.” Rocco shrugged as if he was unable to come up with a rational reason.“I think you just wanted me?”Rocco put some resolve in his look. “Dunno. Maybe the idea got to me on some level.”“Then it should have been between you and me.”“I didn’t even know you back then. That was the first time I laid eyes on you.”“So you just went along with the idea of drugging and raping me? You gotta pay, my friend.”“How?”“In kind, brother.”In the dim lights of the parking lot, Headhunter clearly saw the other man blanch. “You saying tit for tat?” Rocco demanded. “Sorry. No way”“What am I supposed to do, just forget about it?”Rocco shrugged. “I’ll apologize, and then we’ll go inside. I’ll buy the drinks.”“Sorry. In my culture, that doesn’t cut it.”“Mine neither. So what do we do, slug it out right here in the parking lot?”“Wherever. But I’m going have you after I beat you.”“It’ll take a man to do that.”“I am a man. The most man you’ve ever known. What’ll it be?”“Not here. We’ll go somewhere private. Don’t worry, I’m not going to run away. That would only delay things.”“You got that right. Where?”“There’s an old gym where some of us work out on the weekend. It’s closed tonight, but I’ve got a key.”“Sounds okay.”Headhunter followed Rocco’s pickup to an empty parking lot beside a small, stucco building in the North Valley. Neither man said a word while Rocco fumbled with the key. Headhunter followed him inside. The place was dark except for a small night light at the back. That suited Headhunter just fine. His cat’s eyes saw everything clearly.“Might as well be comfortable while we beat up one another,” Rocco said, leading the way to a thick wrestling mat. He stood in the middle to strip off his shirt and kick out of his shoes. Headhunter followed suit.“You sure there’s not another way to do this?” Rocco asked. “I’m open to anything reasonable.”“Okay, take off your pants,” he answered easily, studying the other man’s stance. Rocco had done some boxing; Headhunter wasn’t much for boxing, but he was good at fighting.“Can’t do that, amigo.”“Did you get a thrill out of what you did to me?”Rocco dropped his arms and considered the question. “Yeah, I did.”“You like having an audience watch you perform?”The other man flushed. “Not particularly. Probably would have enjoyed it more if we were alone.” He stood with his naked torso gleaming in the dim light. “But it wouldn’t have happened if the others hadn’t been there. Needed a spark to get it going. Ritchie was that spark.”“That’s what I figure. But now I’m going to enjoy it more because we’re alone, and I can take my time.”“Won’t be that easy. I’m not gonna lie still and let you do it to me, not even if you manage to whip me, Diego.”“Didn’t think you would. But I will do it.”“Gotta get the best of me first.”“That’s not much of a problem.” Headhunter suddenly rushed the other man, managing to lock him in a bear hug. Rocco flailed ineffectually with his imprisoned arms and butted with his head without doing much damage. Linking his hands behind the struggling man, Headhunter conjured the image of an anaconda. Becominga constrictor, he crushed the broad chest in his embrace. Rocco dropped to the ground and frantically rolled across the mat, crashing into furniture and equipment, desperately trying to break the suffocating embrace. Headhunter held on doggedly. He was whipped if it became a matter of standing and trading blows. That had never been his way.With arms like the coils of the serpent he conjured, Headhunter tightened his grip, twisting his hips away from Rocco’s thrashing knees. All the other man could do was to beat at him ineffectually as the breath was slowly squeezed from his lungs. Headhunter felt his opponent’s strength ebb. Rocco held on longer than most, fighting for all he was worth, even after the lack of oxygen caused his muscles to fail. He was a scrapper. Finally, his efforts became weak as he struggled to draw breath into his constricted lungs.“Had enough?” Headhunter asked, fighting to keep the excitement out of his voice.“Can’t…breathe,” Rocco gasped.“I’ll let go, but it’s over.” He realized once the young man in his embrace drew a decent breath, he’d fight again. Headhunter released him and quickly pinched the man’s arm. The recessed needle in the silver ring bit. He doubted Rocco even noticed. He hadn’t used as much of the poison this time. If he’d guessed right, it would only produce lethargy, not paralysis.He was keenly aware of his rising excitement as Rocco’s naked flesh pressed against his chest… maybe because this one had fought him like a man, challenging his right to retribution.“Hey…Diego. Can’t we…do…this…’nother way?” Rocco’s breath was labored. From the exertion or from the drug?“Afraid not,” he answered, rising to his knees and fumbling with the other’s buckle. Hands quickly grasped his wrist, but they had no strength in them. He easily twisted out of their grasp and opened Rocco’s fly, strangely excited by what he was doing. Over the next half hour, he exacted his revenge on this man who could have been a friend if things were different.Shaken by the experience, Headhunter pulled on his clothing. “You’ll be all right soon,” he said. “The stuff’s already wearing off. I can feel you move a little. Can you talk better now?”“Some,” came the muffled reply.“Good. Because I want to know if this thing’s over? As far as I’m concerned it is. You took me; I took you.”“Better stay…outa…my way. But it’s…over.”“Suits me fine,” Diego breathed. “Don’t want to have much to do with you anytime soon, either. But I hope you mean it, Rocco. I wouldn’t want your Sicilian blood to come up with a vendetta.”“Not Sicilian,” Rocco mumbled. “I did wrong. You did wrong. That makes a right, I guess.” The man laboriously turned on his back. “It’s over. I swear. But keep away from me, hear?”“I hear you. Now I want you to make another oath to me. You don’t say anything about this to the others.”Rocco gave a snort that could have been a laugh. “Don’t worry. Don’t want… anybody to know about it anymore’n you do.”
*****
Wow! Don’t know about you, but that was steamy, so far as I was concerned. Do you feel an attraction? Even so, it’s hard to see these two macho men getting back together.
See you next week.
Amazon permits you to read a short passage of my novels, Cut Hand and Johnny Two-Guns. I also believe the STARbooks-published River Otter, Echoes of the Flute, and Medicine Hair are still up. I sure would like to get the final book in the Cut Hand Series, Wastelakapi… Beloved, published, but it’ll take some help from readers to get Dreamspinner interested.
My contact information is provided below in case anyone wants to drop me a line:Website and blog: markwildyr.comEmail: markwildyr@aol.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/mark.wildyrTwitter: @markwildyr
The following are buy links for CUT HAND:
DSP Publications: https://www.dsppublications.com/books/cut-hand-by-mark-wildyr-420-bAmazon: https://www.amazon.com/Cut-Hand-Mark-Wildyr-ebook/dp/B073D86RWViBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/book/cut-hand/id1256084273Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/cut-hand-2
And now my mantra: Keep on reading. Keep on writing. You have something to say, so say it!
Until next time.
Mark
New posts at 6:00 a.m. on each Thursday for the life of this serial; thereafter, the first and third Thursdays of the month.

Mark Wildyr: Headhunter – Pipsqueak

Mark Wildyr: Headhunter – Pipsqueak: markwildyr.com, Post #88             Courtesy of PexSnap.com Okay, it’s John Shandell’s turn. Except Diego has such little respect...