SkinMarvin Gay Stories

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Chapter 16

Buster, Nisbo and Charlie welcomed the young worker home as if he was a hero. The newest tattoo on the kid's face was no surprise to any of them. "I see Spider's done his work, kid, looks good on ya," said Buster as David entered the room, "Now get upstairs and get into yer skinhead kit you were wearin yesterday," he continued, "includin yer fuckin boots, get em laced up tight." David scarpered up the stairs.

He found his kit where he'd left it and got out of his filthy overalls and rubber boots. His Fred Perry and his bleachers had survived the grime of the dump where he'd spent the day. He sat down and began to lace up his Ranger boots. Once he'd gotten both boots on, he went to go downstairs, but as he did, he caught sight of himself in the mirror in the corner of the room. He took a few moments to take it all in. He, David, was looking in the mirror and a hard-looking, good-looking young skin was staring back at him. He knew it was his own reflection, but somehow couldn't take in that such a change had been forced on him in such a short space of time. David studied the reflection's 20 hole black rangers with the white laces. The bleachers. The Fred Perry and the braces. He picked up his MA1 bomber jacket and put it on to complete the look. He looked at the reflection's shaved head and eyebrows, at the various tattoos on his hands, skull and face.

All the while, David's cock was hardening steadily in his jockstrap inside his bleachers. David's fantasy had come true. He maybe wasn't a total skinhead yet, but he sure looked like one. The other skins had taken him far further than he'd have initially liked but there was nothing he could do about that now. The reflection turned David on more and more, so much so that he simply had to free his cock from it's jockstrap prison. He unbuttoned the fly of his bleachers and fished his dick out, beginning slowly to jerk off to his own reflection. Boy, did he look hard. For a moment, he stopped and took out a red and sparked up. Definitely, smoking was for him - it made him even harder looking. He tried to smoke exactly as he'd seen Buster and Charlie smoke. Right down into his lungs. A red in one hand and his cock in the other, he pumped his dick more rhythmically now, the sight of his exhales getting him hornier and hornier.

He stomped the butt of his cigarette out on the bare wooden floor. He was so caught up in the moment that he didn't notice Buster coming into the room and standing behind him, taking in the scene. Of course, Buster could not contain himself either at the sight of the young lad so definitely enjoying his new self. Buster came closer to the kid, and after gobbing on his hand, came from behind and put his hand on top of David's as he wanked himself off. David drew his own hand away from his dick and reached round instinctively for Buster's cock, which was poking out at attention through his camo pants.

"Yeah, fuckin go for it kid, yer part of us now, yer one of us. You fuckin love the way you look now, don't ya....," Buster whispered in David's ear. "You fuckin want this, don't ya, you horny little fucker......I'm goin to fuckin make sure you stick with us, lad, yer not gettin out now...," he continued. David could smell Buster's smokey breath he was that close. It drove the kid wild.

"No, Buster," panted David, "Never let me go, keep me here, tattoo me even more if you want, keep me workin at that fuckin dump, keep me bald and shaved, and don't let me ever go back to being a fuckin normal, insignificant.....aaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!" David spattered cum all over the mirror. The sight of Buster holding him from behind, the sight of both of them together as skinheads, the idea that he was stuck now in this crazy new world, without hope of return was too much for him. He wanted it. He needed it.

Buster turned the lad around to face him and held him close as he continued to jerk himself off. David could see that the older skin was about to cum. Just before he shot his load, he pulled David close to him and shoved his dick into the kid's fly. David felt glob after glob of Buster's cum coat his balls and his thigh. As Buster withdrew, he laughed and buttoned up David's bleachers so that he had no chance to wipe any of the older skin's cum away. He'd have to wear it.

"Nice one, Dave," said Buster, gathering himself together, "yer a fuckin horny little cunt, and a good addition to the family."

"Thanks, Buster," said David, knowing that Buster meant what he said.

The two came down to eat a massive take-away that Charlie had been out to get. Charlie had decided what David was to have. David knew better than to disagree or not to finish his dinner.

"So, kid, you OK? Yer happy that yer with us?" asked Charlie as he dished out the food.

"Yes, thanks, Charlie, I really am." The short session with Buster was still fresh in his mind.

"Fuckin excellent, cos yer fuckin stuck with us," laughed Charlie.

Over the take-away, Charlie told David all about how Buster landed in the group. How that he'd originally been a policeman sent to spy on them, and how that he had been captured and forced into being one of them against his will. David was fascinated. He could see parallels with his own experience, except that he had always secretly wanted to be a skinhead.

"So, kid, now yer one of us, tell me your side of the story as to how you met our Buster here," asked Charlie.

David began his story and Charlie listened intentively as the kid recounted how he'd been bullied for months at school by the Barnes-Forbes twins. How that they'd run the sixth-form and had made his life and the lives of several of his friends miserable with their constant demands for money, and the fact that they were continually picking fights with them for no reason.

"They sound like a right pair of wankers, kid," interjected Charlie, as he listened on.

David went on to tell how he'd been cornered by them and left with a bleeding nose on the day he met Buster. He told how Buster had initially scared the life out of him, but how happy he was that the two had come in contact. He told how that Buster was his first skinhead contact and how that he wanted to learn more about what being a skinhead was like.

"Well yer in the right fuckin place now kid," said Charlie, smiling at him. "I mean, we here are all fuckin queer and we take it to extremes cos it fuckin turns us on, but real skinheads are the fuckin salt of the earth, kid, you'll learn that. With us it's a fuckin way of life, kid, always remember that - all for one and one for all, eh, lads?." David and the others nodded. Charlie was imparting wisdom to all his subjects again.

As he listened to Charlie talk about "the good old days" when he was first a skinhead, and as he told him about the history of the movement, the music, the fights, the cameraderie, the beer, the way the movement had changed over the years, David couldn't help feel good about being a part of Charlie's little family. He listened intently, asking questions as Charlie went on.

"So that's that, kid.....all you ever fuckin wanted to know about skinheads but were afraid to ask," laughed Charlie. "But there's one fuckin thing that's botherin me, kid."

"What's that, Charlie," asked David, all ears.

"Them two fuckin wankers who were after you, are they still around?"

"I assume so, Charlie," answered David, wondering where this was leading.

"Well, yer one of us now, kid. And when one of us fuckin gets hurt, we all fuckin feel it. I say we find the fuckers and give em a taste of their own medicine, what do you say?"

"Eh, I don't know if I could...."

"Fuckin leave that to us, Pisshead, we'll sort em out," Buster chimed in. "They fuckin need a lesson that will stick with them for a very long time," he continued.

"Yeah, kid, we'll take em out of fuckin circulation, get em shipped off to a couple of rubber perverts we know in Germany, how's that?"

It sounded as if Charlie had this onslaught on the Barnes-Forbes twins all sorted and planned out already.

"Eh, don't you think what you propose is a bit drastic?? Did you mean it when you said send them to Germany?" asked David, not sure if Charlie was joking or not.

"Yep, too bloody right, kid, I got fuckin connections!"

David shrugged his shoulders and thought for a moment. He thought back to his reflection in the mirror upstairs. The reflection would have said "go for it - get the bastards!"

"Go for it, Charlie, get the bastards," said David, looking directly at Charlie.

"NOW yer fuckin talkin, son," said Charlie gleefully. "Are we on, lads?"

"We're on, Charlie!" said Buster and Nisbo in unison.

"No time like the fuckin present!" said Charlie, ecstatic at the thought of some action. David smiled. . His new family were taking care of him. It felt good. It felt damn good. He really felt part of something now. He allowed himself slowly to believe that he belonged. Sitting over a take-away in this dingy house with three older tattooed, pierced skinheads, miles away from his former existence he only left four days before, he felt good.

"Right, young fucker, get yer bomber back on, we're off on a fuckin twin-hunt, let's go!!!!" said Charlie, burping as he rose from his chair, lighting another fag as he picked up his own donkey jacket.

"OK, Son, all you need to do is get us to where they live, and fuckin point em out to us. We'll do the rest, OK?"

"OK, Charlie," said David, lighting up a red.

The four skinheads left their humble abode, crossed the wasteland in front of the house, and disappeared into the night.

THE END..........or is it?

AUTHOR'S NOTE

Author's note - Well, it's finally finished. Hope you like the sequel to my first story. More of the same, I hear you cry. Correct. If it doesn't turn ya on, fine. If it does, e-mail me and let me know what you liked about it, and any ideas you have for a further story : dreckskin@hotmail.com

Like the first story, I don't mind if you publish it - but if you do publish it, don't add to it, don't subtract from it without my permission, and give credit (i.e. to the author!!!) - where it's due.

And last but not least. Cheers to the real Buster for his help earlier on in the story. And cheers to the real David. You know who you are.

Dreckskin

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