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Bondage Ranch

Page 2

by Roland Graeme


  Vaughn was intrigued. “I have to ask you, Darren. Where’d you get the lockers?”

  “The local high school sold them off in lots when they bought new ones. They’re really convenient to store my outdoor gear in. And they come in handy at these get-togethers, as you can see.”

  The guests were indeed making good use of the lockers. They were performing a group striptease, shedding their clothes as quickly and completely as possible. Some of the men chose to put their boots back on once they were naked. Others, Vaughn saw, had worn cock rings or other genital restraints under their pants, and they retained these accessories now that they were exposed. A few guys put on pieces of leather gear—torso harnesses, dog collars, arm and wrist bands.

  Ignoring the lockers, some of the guests made use of an alternative which Darren had provided. They deposited their clothes in brown paper bags, on which they wrote their names with a marking pen. Folding over the tops of the bags, they stapled them shut—and placed them in a neat row, near the lockers. Darren took one of the bags and began to undress.

  “Wouldn’t you like to strip down, too?” Darren asked Vaughn, in the same polite tone with which a host might offer a guest a drink.

  “I reckon I’d better. I feel overdressed.”

  “Did you remember to bring a padlock? If not, I can lend you one. Or you can use a bag.”

  “Got it right here.” Vaughn drew a combination padlock from his pocket.

  Darren escorted him to the row of lockers. Vaughn found an empty one, which happened to be number seventy-five according to the worn metal plate fastened to its door. Darren stood there and held Vaughn’s drink for him while Vaughn stripped and stowed his clothes inside the locker. Vaughn put his boots back on.

  Darren smiled at him. “Hot body,” he whispered.

  “Thanks.”

  “Can I touch?”

  “Of course.”

  Vaughn took his beer back and sipped it. That left both of Darren’s hands free, and Darren put them to good use, placing them first on Vaughn’s shoulders and giving them a squeeze before he slid his open palms down over Vaughn’s pecs. His thumbs flicked expertly back and forth across the stiffening cones of Vaughn’s nipples.

  “Yeah, nice fucking nips. Do you like that?” Darren asked.

  “Yeah. I like it a lot.”

  “I thought so. Your dick’s getting hard.”

  “Can’t help it,” Vaughn said. “And it looks as though I’ve got plenty of company.”

  He and Darren were indeed surrounded by other men in various stages of undress and arousal.

  “Let’s go upstairs,” Darren invited Vaughn.

  Naked except for his boots, Vaughn climbed the stairs. Totally nude, his host followed him—and he didn’t hesitate to reach out and give Vaughn’s bare butt a friendly, appreciative grope during the ascent.

  The three bedrooms comprising The Orgy Suite, as Darren had called it, had their doors propped open. Dim light from inside each room spilled out into the hallway which connected them.

  Curiosity led Vaughan to glance inside each of the bedrooms in turn. They were obviously spare rooms, not used except on such special occasions as the sex party. Each room was furnished with the bare necessities of a bed, a nightstand, and a chest of drawers. Two of them were each equipped with a battered old armchair. The light came from small shaded lamps set on the nightstands.

  The beds were old brass affairs, with headboards and footboards which may once have been shiny, but which had long ago acquired a dull patina of age. Vaughn was surprised by the fitted bottom sheets and pillowcases on the beds. They were heavy black rubber, which took on a silver-gray gleam in the lamplight.

  In addition to the mattresses on the beds, each room had a second mattress set down on the floor. These mattresses were also encased in the black rubber fitted sheets. They had an unapologetically sexual look about them.

  Vaughn did some quick mental calculations. Six mattresses, each of which could presumably accommodate at least three or four men—yes, Darren could handle quite a crowd. He hadn’t exaggerated when he’d talked about, “Wall-to-wall bodies and cocks.”

  Vaughn was intrigued by the setup. He was particularly curious about the items of furniture, which seemed to be there specifically for the orgy.

  “There seems to be no shortage of beds,” he remarked to Darren, who was standing behind him, fondling his butt.

  “Yeah, and they all see some hard use. That’s why the mattresses are all new and extra firm. I got a good deal on them from a mattress store. I told them I’d buy up anything they had that was superficially damaged and couldn’t be sold. Hauled them away in a stack in the back of my pickup. The guy at the store did ask what I needed so many mattresses for. I told him I have a lot of company from out of town. Which come to think of it, isn’t so far from the truth.”

  Vaughn laughed. “And those black rubber sheets are something else. I bet you didn’t find them at the local five and dime.”

  “Now those I admit I splurged on. Ordered them from this sex shop in San Francisco. They weren’t cheap, but they’ve turned out to be worth every penny. Sweat, lube, cum, assorted bodily fluids—you name it, it washes right off. The guys can get as down and dirty as they want to be, with no harm done. And they usually do just that.”

  Vaughn felt himself blushing a little in reaction to Darren’s frank mention of such matters.

  “Think you can handle it from here?” Darren asked Vaughn.

  “I plan on giving it my best shot.”

  “Good. Have fun. I’d better mingle. Don’t want any of my guests to feel neglected. Listen—I’ll catch up with you later, stud. Okay?”

  “Okay.”

  After giving Vaughn’s bare behind a final caress, Darren moved away.

  Guests had begun to wander into the bedrooms. Some of them began making out with one another, which quickly and inevitably led to further intimacies.

  One of the guests, a pretty blond twink that was naked except for a pair of highly polished black leather knee-high boots, came up to Vaughn.

  “Hi. I’m Chip,” the boy said.

  “My name’s Vaughn.”

  “Yeah, I know. Darren’s told me a little about you. Are you a real cowboy?”

  “Well, on the ranch where I work I take care of the cattle, and I’m usually on horseback while I’m doing it,” Vaughn replied. “If you’re expecting me to perform any fancy rope tricks, though, I’m afraid you’re going to be disappointed.”

  “I know one rope trick that anybody can do. Want me to show it to you?”

  “Sure.”

  Chip leaned over. Vaughn saw that he had no fewer than three extra boot laces wound around the top of his left boot. Chip untied them. He used one to create a cock and ball harness on himself, winding the long piece of rawhide around his genitals in a complicated crisscrossed and looped pattern. When he tied the ends in a knot under his scrotum, his cock stood at attention and his distended balls were held up directly under the base of his erection, high and vulnerable.

  “There,” Chip said, with satisfaction.

  “That’s the most obscene-looking thing I’ve ever seen a guy do to himself,” Vaughn commented. “And doesn’t it hurt?”

  “It hurts, but it hurts good.”

  Chip threaded one end of the second length of rawhide through the boot lace already secured around his cock and balls. He tied it and left it dangling. He handed the third boot lace to Vaughn.

  “My wrists,” Chip urged, in a hoarse, excited-sounding whisper. He turned his back to Vaughn and positioned his hands behind his back, holding his wrists together. “Tie my wrists together for me. Please.”

  Vaughn wound the rawhide repeatedly about Chip’s wrists, drawing it tight.

  “No, tighter,” Chip told him.

  “I don’t want to cut off your circulation.”

  “I can take it. Pull it really tight. I don’t want to be able t
o move my wrists apart at all.”

  Vaughn did as Chip asked.

  “Now take the piece that’s hanging and pass it back between my legs,” Chip instructed him. He was already breathing hard, and he was obviously extremely excited. “Pull it taut, right between my butt cheeks and against my ass hole. Now tie the end to the lace around my wrists.”

  “Wow. You’re really into this bondage shit, huh?”

  “Bondage—and genital restraint.” Chip gasped. “Oh, I love it, man. I can’t get enough of it. No, please pull it tighter than that,” he urged. “So tight that if I try to move my hands, it’ll yank on my cock and balls. No, tighter still. That’s right. Yeah, that feels good. That’s what I want. Now tie it off.”

  When he had made the knot, Vaughn took a step back and admired his handiwork.

  “Got yourself trussed up like a barbecue chicken ready to be put on the spit, don’t you?” he remarked.

  “Yeah,” Chip gloated. “Now you guys can do whatever you want with me. I won’t be able to stop you.”

  “You little cunt. You are one kinky little son-of-a-bitch, aren’t you?”

  “Oh, you have no idea, big guy. Go ahead. Make me do things to you. Smack me around a little, if you want to. I like that. I like that a lot. It makes my cock cream.”

  “Fuck,” Vaughn exclaimed. “Your dick is dripping jism already. This shit must really turn you on.”

  “It makes me feel like I’m already on the verge of coming,” Chip blurted out. “Only I can’t touch my dick. I can’t make myself come. I’m helpless. I’m your prisoner, your sex slave. It’s fucking torture, cowboy. Oh, it feels so hot!”

  Aroused, Vaughn pushed Chip forward, into the nearest bedroom.

  “Pervert! Get your ass down on that mattress on the floor,” Vaughn commanded. “Now,” he added, when the blond boy had obeyed him, “suck my cock. All the way—take it all the way into your mouth and down your throat. Get it good and wet. I’m going to shove it up your pretty little butt in a minute. But first, though, you’re going to slurp on that motherfucking meat of mine. You’re going to make it feel good. Real good!”

  Chapter Three: A Rural Bacchanal

  Vaughn came.

  He ejaculated inside Chip’s hot, tight ass. His cum was contained inside the reservoir tip of the condom which he’d put on his cock before he’d started to fuck the blond boy’s butt. It was safe sex—but safe sex at its hottest.

  “Oh, yeah, Daddy,” Chip whimpered. “You really know how to fuck!”

  Out of breath though he was, Vaughn had to chuckle at the thought of being anybody’s daddy, especially Chip’s. For all Vaughn knew, the other young man’s boyish appearance could be deceptive. Chip was probably a year or two younger than Vaughn, at the most.

  “Thanks, kid,” Vaughn said.

  Withdrawing from Chip’s anus, Vaughn stripped the semen-filled rubber from his dick. He looked around for some place to put it. Darren had supplied the rooms of The Orgy Suite with wastebaskets, and Vaughn tossed the used prophylactic into one of them.

  Chip hadn’t moved. He was still kneeling on the mattress on the floor, with his wrists bound behind his back.

  “More. I want more. Fuck me—oh, fuck me,” he begged. “Somebody, anybody—please fuck me. Please shove your dick up my ass!”

  Two men immediately stepped forward, ready to accommodate the lad’s request.

  “What a fucking little whore,” Vaughn muttered under his breath.

  Still, he supposed he was in no position to make moral judgments.

  Vaughn went into the upstairs bathroom to take a leak and wash up a little.

  By now, the orgy was in full swing. He heard moans coming from the bedrooms, some stifled, others unashamedly loud. He heard the unmistakable sound of flesh slapping against flesh.

  “Fuck me!” somebody yelled. “Oh, you big-dicked son-of-a-bitch. Fuck me hard!”

  “Suck it,” another anguished male voice pleaded. “Oh, please suck me. I’m so goddamn hard. Take my motherfucking prick all the way down into your throat. Yeah, that’s the way. That’s the way to do it. Oh, God!”

  “I’m coming!” a third man suddenly shouted. “Coming, in your hot ass! Shit! Your hole is sucking it right out of me. Take it. Take that hot cum in your ass!”

  Trembling with renewed lust, Vaughn left the bathroom. For a moment, he stood there in the upstairs hallway, indecisively.

  “Anybody want a cold beer?” a man asked. Nude, he was carrying a bucket filled with crushed ice, into which several beer bottles were embedded, minus their caps.

  “I’ll take one,” Vaughn said. “Thanks.”

  “That’s very impressive-looking,” a burly young stud with a potentially throat-choking erection commented, smiling at Vaughn, who returned his smile. Vaughn’s admirer was referring to his penis, which the man took in his hand and stroked. At the man’s touch, Vaughn began to swell into semi-erection. “It feels good, too,” the man said. “Mind if I have a taste?”

  “Please go right ahead,” Vaughn invited him.

  The guy got down on his knees and began to lick the head of Vaughn’s cock. Vaughn stood there with his legs spread, swigging his cold beer straight from the bottle, while his cocksucker’s lips and tongue ran lightly and teasingly over Vaughn’s mass of soft meat. It didn’t stay merely semi-hard for long, but began to respond to the stimulation, jutting out from Vaughn’s groin in full, proud erection. Within less than a minute, Vaughn felt hotly aroused all over again, even though he’d already come once.

  Darren, also sipping a beer taken from the bucket, suddenly appeared. He stood beside Vaughn and grinned down at the spectacle of the kneeling cocksucker encircling his friend’s rapidly inflating cock with his pink lips.

  “Looks like you’re already making new friends,” Darren quipped.

  “And talented ones,” Vaughn moaned, as his anonymous admirer sucked him more fervently, getting him fully hard within seconds. “Oh, you’re good,” he added, addressing his cocksucker, whose hair he caressed with his free hand. “You’re damn good!”

  His cock was filled with blood and pulsing with nervous energy as it rose in response to the firm, insistent sucking.

  Vaughn glanced around him. In one of the nearby bedrooms, other men were pairing up, standing side-by-side, or face-to-face, groping each other. Vaughn’s fellator wasn’t the only guest who was already down on his knees, helping himself to a mouthful of cock. In the center of the floor of the same bedroom, one guy was lying on his back on one of the mattresses, with a second man kneeling between his parted legs and blowing him—while a third guy sat on the first one’s face, moaning while he was given a rim job.

  “Fuck me!” Vaughn heard a voice gasp. When he turned his head toward another bedroom where the sound had come from, Vaughn saw a muscular number, naked except for boots, cock ring, and baseball cap, bent over one of the brass beds, supporting himself with his palms pressed into the mattress, which was sheathed in its black rubber bottom sheet. Behind him, another man had stripped himself to the waist, but he hadn’t bothered yet to take the time to undress completely. Still wearing his boots and jeans—the latter opened and pushed them down around his knees, hobbling him—he was fucking the bent-over guy, plowing his ass hole with his prick. “Fuck me!” the recipient of the anal assault repeated. “Fuck me hard!”

  “The party seems to have gotten off to a good start, without me,” Darren quipped. “I’m going to circulate, okay?”

  “Have fun.”

  “You, too.”

  Darren kissed Vaughn on the mouth, then he wandered off to check out the action elsewhere on the second floor of the farmhouse.

  Vaughn drank his beer and watched the action taking place down at his groin. The guy kneeling in front of him had Vaughn’s balls in his hand, his own legs spread apart, and his firm ass thrust out invitingly, while his mouth churned away around the shaft of Vaughn’s cock. But what Vaughn now saw g
oing on through the open door of the adjacent bedroom intrigued him even more than the admittedly hot blow job he was enjoying.

  On the bed, a naked man was stretched out lengthwise on the sagging mattress, while getting bored in the ass by a man who was sucking off another. Nearby, two more men were rubbing their dicks indiscriminately together and all over a third guy’s face—rubbing their penises over his nose and eyes—while he moved his lips from one hard prick to the other, licking them, letting them slide into his mouth and throat in turn, sucking them in an open-mouthed frenzy.

  Suddenly, three more men got down upon the mattress on the floor, and they began to sandwich-fuck. Snorting poppers, they lay on their sides and lined up their bodies in a tight row. The lucky guy in the middle fucked and got fucked simultaneously.

  It wasn’t long before Vaughn realized that the other two bedrooms in The Orgy Suite—the other two beds, and the other two mattresses on the floors—were similarly occupied. There were at least a couple of dozen men joining their bodies together in a variety of configurations, grunting and panting in a cacophony of lust. It was a sea of writhing, humping nude male flesh, gleaming in the lamplight. Surveying the crowd, Vaughn needed a moment or two before he identified Darren and Grant, among the other men. Locked in a sixty-nine, they had spurned the relative comfort provided by the mattresses. They were lying on the bare floorboards of one of the rooms, hungrily feeding upon each other’s dicks and fingering each other’s bungholes while they sucked.

  A long-haired, bearded dude with a bodybuilder’s hard-muscled physique had seated himself comfortably on the edge of the bed, in the room which was directly opposite Vaughn’s gaze. The guy from Calgary squatted over the muscle man, facing him, and sat on his cock. Vaughn could see the bodybuilder’s thick latex-sheathed fuck tool plunging up and down within the tight clasp of the Canadian’s ass hole as the guy rode his cock.

 

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