Back in the bedroom he took off his hiking shirt and shorts, then dropped his underwear onto the pile and wandered outdoors. The sun dried the sweat from his naked body and he smiled at the feeling of the breeze as it explored around his cock and balls. Life was certainly wonderful.
Back inside after a quick break for lemonade Frank checked the radio and inspected the batteries for deterioration. The kerosene lamp needed refilling which was to be expected after all these months, and he made sure a couple of candles were positioned around the cabin for emergency use. Matches and a lighter were also placed so they could be found when darkness descended.
He took a plate from the cupboard above the propane cooker and laid out some bread, cheese and pickles. With a refill of lemonade he made his way out to the back yard and sat on the old wooden seat, looking out through the trees into the distant grey-green mountains. Setting aside his plate he slowly ate his lunch, absently playing with his limp cock as he listened to the calls of the larger birds. Just as he picked up his glass to wash down a mouthful of bread and cheese he heard a short, high-pitched scream. He froze, his eyes darting around at the gaps in the trees, up to their tops to see which way birds might fly. Nothing. He held his breath and listened without moving then resumed eating and casually toying with himself. The scream had definitely been human rather than a bird call or large animal. Not a scream of imminent danger, but an indication of pain and suffering nevertheless. He smiled, wondering if someone had discovered that the code drop had failed regression testing in QA. He could afford to wait another three months for the revision but he wasn’t telling the team at this stage.
A second scream was followed shortly by a third, and he placed the source as slightly to his right, maybe a couple of hundred yards away. That, he thought, was a real nuisance. Part of him felt that he should simply ignore it and consider it nothing to do with him. Another part knew that he should offer help if he could, given the absolute remoteness of the location. The continual sound of muffled cries from within the trees convinced him that she should get closer and see if he could locate the source. Returning to the cabin he dressed with great annoyance, clipped a knife to his belt, locked the door and returned the key before setting off down the sloping back garden towards the source of the screams. He walked carefully, avoiding sticks and loose gravel as the river came into view. Crouching down behind a tree he waited and was rewarded by a shout, probably from a girl and about fifty yards away. With the undergrowth to give him cover he moved forward, looking up occasionally to try to get sight of her. Finally, as the river unwound through a bend to his right, he saw her, crouching amongst the boulders, just at the edge of the water. He noted two backpacks and so was more cautious as he moved closer again.
Thirty feet away he stopped and watched as the young girl seemed to be talking to another person who was partially hidden by the large, grey rocks which lined the banks. She was squatting and had a cloth in her hand which seemed to have blood on it. She cried occasionally and seemed to keep looking around for inspiration or help. Her movements were hurried, anxious and without a purpose. Then he heard her shout the word ‘Bri’ which he assumed was the name of the second person. Frank turned around and slid down the trunk of the tree that hid him, thinking.
He had seen a young girl, and presumed there was another youngster called Bri somewhere, who was probably injured through his own actions rather than from an animal attack. To help them would be the normal thing to do but his resources were limited and he had so much looked forward to having a few days on his own at the cabin, relaxing and wandering around naked without interruption from anyone else. He turned back to her and saw she had long hair and wore shorts and a T-shirt. She also looked to be young and in reasonable shape as she didn’t have that obese outline that half of the country’s children seemed to possess nowadays. On balance he decided to skirt back to the other side of the river and approach them from above so he could determine whether to become involved or not.
Moving carefully, he crossed the river at a natural bridge almost a hundred yards further up river and gained the path above their location. Crouching again, he saw the figure of the boy, lying between two rocks with his feet in the water. He didn’t seem to be moving. That was a bad sign and Frank certainly didn’t want to become involved if the boy had died. There was no phone at the cabin, no roads, no electricity, nothing that might provide life-saving help in an emergency. With just his head poking out over the top of the bracken he watched as the girl used a cloth to wet the boys head. There was movement and eventually a groan. Frank noted the boy’s shorts had fallen to his knees and that otherwise he seemed to be naked at the waist. The sun glistened in the girl’s untidy blonde hair and she had a slender figure that barely dented her T-shirt. He was impressed though as she carefully lifted him up and got him to sit upright on a nearby rock.
His mind was made up that the boy would live and he approached them carefully, making sure he trod on some sticks to announce his arrival.
“Hey, it’s OK,” said Frank, towering above her on the track.
The girl screamed, jumping several inches off the rock while frantically looking all around for the source of the voice.
“Oh my god!” she screamed through tears.
“What happened?” he asked, noting that the girl was a filthy mess and looked particularly unattractive.
“Jeeze, I thought you were a fucking bear! He fell and hit his head!” Frank maneuvered carefully and jumped down to the river bed.
“He fell from up there?” asked Frank, looking doubtful as he gauged the height at about ten to fifteen feet.
“Yeah, hurt his shoulder and legs.”
Frank walked up to the boy and looked him over “I’m not surprised he did from that height. He’s bleeding quite badly from the wound on the back of his head you know.”
“Yeah, I tried to mop it a bit with this shirt.”
Frank knelt down in front of the boy. “Can you tell me what happened?”
The boy heaved and was sick down his front. Shaking his head he looked up. “Fell, hit my head on the rocks I think. I can’t move,” he said, moaning.
“Well, you can’t stay here. It’ll be dark in a few hours and this place is totally deserted, you know that, right?”
“We’re on our way to the campsite, we’ll be fine” offered Leslie. Frank saw the cuts on her thighs and the inviting darkness between the top of her legs and the opening of her shorts. Her legs were firm, young, and shapely. If it hadn’t been for the tears on her cheeks, blood on her hands and legs, a couple of smears of shit on her arms and the brambles and dirt in her wet hair she would have been a picture of youth and beauty. He revised his initial view of her from unattractive to reasonable.
“He needs help. He needs to get clean and rest, but not down here.” Looking at Brian he held out his hand. “Can you walk?”
“No, I just need to rest!”
“You need to get out of here, that’s more important right now,” said Frank more forcefully. “Let’s get you moved before you really start to ache from that fall. Come on, stand up!”
“Where are we going?” asked Leslie.
“I have a place a few hundred yards away where you can stay for a while. Look, I’m certainly not a doctor but you’re not going anywhere tonight!” Stupid kids, he thought, as he positioned himself to help the boy up.
With some effort they managed to get Brian to stand and while Frank held onto him, Leslie pulled up his filthy underwear and shorts, buttoning them back in place. Her cheeks billowed as she tried hard to counter the nausea. Shit oozed out of the legs of the boy’s shorts and as he made his first steps towards the crossing, sounds of diahorea came from his groin area. With one each side they supported him with Frank carrying his backpack, but even within the first fifty feet they had both become filthy through contact with his clothing, their hands covered in liquid brown slime which seemed to be everywhere they touched.
Progress after a short st
op on the other side of the river became more difficult as they made their way up the steeper incline towards the cabin. Brian seemed to be truly in great pain and his diahorea and vomiting hadn’t stopped.
“What’s your name?” asked Frank as they briefly rested.
“Leslie, and he’s Brian.”
“I’m Frank. Let’s hope we can get him cleaned and comfortable up at the cabin. Like I said I’m no doctor, right? I’ll do what I can for you both.”
With Frank grabbing the hand of his good side and Leslie pushing from behind they managed after almost quarter of an hour to finally get him into the clearing that marked the bottom of the cabin’s back yard. Brian was in tears continually, wailing with each step from the pain in his shoulder and Frank noted that he walked with a limp. All three were panting, filthy and sweating from their exertions as they broke through into the warmth of the grassy area. Although he kept his thoughts to himself, Frank was particularly angry at the intrusion and at himself for offering assistance, his solitude broken by two dumb kids who had been wholly unprepared for a hike in such a deserted section of the country.
“Brian, hold onto the bench seat. Leslie, if I hold him up can you take off his clothing?” said Frank tersely, bracing himself against the young boy. “Hey, cheer up, you’re still alive!” he said, smiling at the look of horror on the boy’s face. Leslie knelt down and undid the button of the boy’s shorts, then pulled down as she gripped the least dirty areas. They came down slowly, squelching now and again as the thick ooze was revealed. Once they had dropped to the grass, Leslie reached up, smiled at Brian reassuringly and pulled down his underwear, peeling it away from his skin where it refused to budge. She saw that his groin was simply a mass of shit, unbearably revolting and smelling of everything rotten in the world. Turning quickly to her side she retched and clutched her stomach.
Frank kicked the clothing away a little and helped to boy to sit on the old wooden bench. Leslie looked at the older man with concern now that the extent of the boy’s filth had been revealed. Brian’s vomit-stained T-shirt made sure he wasn’t going to win any prizes for teenage fashion.
“We’re all pretty filthy. Guys, do you mind if I get these clothes off before I go inside?” asked Frank. He was pleased to note that Leslie actually answered that she didn’t mind, while Brian just shook his head and heaved. Without moving he pulled his shirt over his head and dropped his shorts, revealing his lack of underwear and his filthy arms and legs. Even his back had stains of the boy’s diahorea which had begun to dry in the sun. Leslie looked away from the man’s naked body while Brian didn’t seem to notice at all. As he piled his clothes over by his bench seat he sensed Leslie taking a sly glance towards his groin. Frank unlocked the cabin door and went inside to both heat up some water and lightly stroke himself as he watched the teens out in the garden.
Brian breathed deeply, the dried blood on his head making him look years older. “I’m so sorry Les,” he said.
“It’s OK, you had a really bad fall you know,” she said, still looking in the direction of the cabin.
“My head hurts like hell. I can see two of you.” He breathed in loudly “God I want to be sick again,” and promptly vomited while a fresh stream of brown ooze shot between the wooden slats of the seat and onto the grass.
“We’ll get you cleaned up then you can rest.”
“This is so embarrassing.”
“Shh.”
Frank emerged from the cabin carrying a plastic basin which contained some cold water, washing up liquid, a pair of washing up gloves and a couple of sponges. He saw Leslie looking at him, her eyes darting between the basin and just below.
“You should take your top off Leslie before it gets in your hair, it’s really dirty. There’s nobody around for miles, don’t worry.” As suggested, Leslie stood and pulled her T-shirt up over her head and dropped it on the grass. Frank’s stomach lurched as he saw her tiny naked breasts and the flat, muscled area of her abdomen. “Your shorts are horrible as well, so I should dump them too. Add them to the pile.” Again, Leslie obeyed and dropped her shorts beside her T-Shirt. As she turned to smile weakly at him his eyes were drawn to the unmistakable shape of her pussy lips through her very elegant silky knickers. He noted the label which was poking out at the back, then smiled back and mumbled something half-complimentary even though her knickers too had large smears of brown across the sides and were totally unsuitable for hiking. He felt blood surging into his groin and looked up quickly at a passing black crow which dampened his enthusiasm for a very short while. He smiled, thinking that this was turning into a very strange day and without a constant stream of crows he might need to have the code drop on his mind far more than he had envisaged, and for very different reasons.
Chapter 3
“So one of us should use the gloves to pull the muck off him, while the other runs water over him to try and rinse it off, OK?”
“OK, so you do the water and I’ll use the gloves,” said Leslie, moving into position. Frank looked around at the weird sight in his garden. Three naked people (except for a pair of expensive Dior knickers), two teens, shit everywhere, one teen badly hurt, one teen possibly in need of other attention. His cock rose slightly as Leslie began scraping the shit off her cousin and her little nipples came into profile against her tanned torso. He swallowed hard as she dropped handfuls of muck onto the grass beside her. The cold water didn’t really help much and in fact converted the slightly slippery muck into a liquid cesspit at his feet. His cock was misbehaving.
“I’m going to check on the hot water. You should take your knickers off too as they’re really dirty. We can wash everything in the river once Brian is resting, I do that all the time,” he said, turning to go inside. From the kitchen window he watched as she stood, looked around as though checking for voyeurs and then dropped her knickers into the pile of clothes. During the process she seemed to make her thighs dirty and brown streak marks stretched from her hips down past her knees.
The water was luke-warm and he gave it another five minutes as he watched the two chatting away. The girl seemed quite relaxed with her nudity, while Brian covered his groin with his hands and swayed in response to the pain. With a basin almost full of warm water he went back out just in time to see Brian have another attack of diahorea which caused Leslie to jump out of the way.
“OK, I’ve added a little washing up liquid.” Frank motioned towards the boy’s cock. “So now if you get the mess off around here we can work our way downwards.” Tentatively, Leslie felt around for his penis and smiled when it emerged from the filth between her gloved fingers.
“Wow, it’s kinda shriveled up,” she said.
“I doubt of Brian is feeling very aroused right now, what with the blow to his head and the mess everywhere. Pull it out so I can get the water on it.” Leslie tugged his cock and ran her hands around his balls, smiling as she realised that Brian was making deeper breathing noises. “Rub the water around, get the muck moving. That’s it!”
The boy was in pain from his fall but also suffering as his cock demonstrated signs of life. As they worked the washing up liquid and warmer water served its purpose. Once the boy’s genitals were clean they turned their attention to his legs, then shins. His cock grew steadily and Leslie gave it more attention than necessary. She blinked slowly as she glanced across at Frank and saw that his cock too had grown and was bobbing only a couple of feet away.
“Oh my god!” whispered Leslie, alternating between her cousin and the older man.
“See what you’re doing to us?” laughed Frank.
“Make it stop then.”
“There’s no way a guy can do that.”
Leslie simply shook her head and continued cleaning the boy. At the suggestion of Frank they helped Brian to stand and Leslie steadied him from the front while Frank washed down the back of his legs. The boy’s cock was now rigid and inches away from his cousin’s face. She looked closely at it as it bobbed in front of her, the balls tigh
tening and the veins of his shaft prominent, throbbing. Frank ran the sponge along his legs, between the cheeks of his buttocks and down over the back of his shins. Slowly, they helped him sit again as he fought off another wave of nausea. Pulling him forward so he sat on the edge of the seat Frank raised the boy’s legs, even though this immediately produced a wail from Brian.
Walking Wounded Page 2
