Roy gets roped copyright 1998
Chris checked into the motel around 6:00. He'd driven nearly 600 miles that day in the family's horse van, on his way to Texas to pick up the new mare. Chris took a quick shower and had a bite to eat in the motel restaurant before heading back to his room to take a nap-- if Oklahoma City was like every other place, the action at the bars wouldn't start until 10:00 or 10:30 at the earliest.
Chris woke up from his nap and changed into the "better" clothes he'd brought, not that there was much difference between his better clothes and his regular working clothes. The boots were still worn, albeit polished. The Levi's were also worn, but a little snugger, to show off his tight ass. The work shirt was, well, a work shirt. The cowboy hat fit him like it was a working man's hat.
Chris drove the horse van to the C&W bar he'd seen advertised in Damron's. The bar had a large parking lot, so Chris parked the van off to the side where it wouldn't block other cars. The parking lot was maybe half-full, pretty good for a Thursday night.
Chris walked into the bar and stood near the doorway to let his eyes get adjusted. He looked around and saw a long bar off to the right, with stools, and men, in front. Ahead was a good-sized dance floor, although few men were out there dancing. Off to the left were some tables, another bar-- dark on this weekday-- and the jukebox playing a Patsy Cline tune.
Chris took another look around, checking out the field. He saw that he was probably the only man present who had earned the right to wear his hat and boots. The rest looked liked duded-up accountants or grocery clerks.
A couple of the men checked Chris out as he was eyeing them. What they saw was a young guy (Chris was only 31), maybe 5'9", 160 pounds, with sandy-brown hair, eyes which seemed to sparkle in the bar's few lights, a tight, muscular chest and large arms which could only have come from hours in a gym or days of hard work. If they looked closer they'd have seen a face which rarely had to shave, with a wide smile; a happy face, full of life.
Chris walked over to the bar and ordered a beer. He took the bottle and walked along the bar, checking out the men sitting in front of it. He leaned against a wall and raised the bottle to his lips. As he drank he took another look back at the men sitting at the bar. One guy in particular had caught his eye.
The guy who'd pushed Chris's buttons looked to be in his mid-30s. When he'd stood up and taken off for the other side of the bar, presumably to take a leak, Chris has gotten a better look at him. Maybe 6' tall, 170 or so, thinning brown hair, and light-colored eyes. He was wearing a black vest over a tee shirt, jeans, and the inevitable cowboy boots. The guy had what Roy had heard referred to as a "swimmer's body." Whatever, the guy was pretty good looking. Chris had heard the guy's friends call him "Roy" as Chris had passed behind them on his way to his present spot against the wall.
Chris finished off his first beer, and went back to get another. As he stood in line-- the crowds had gotten a little bit thicker-- he glanced over at "Roy," who was seated a couple of stools down from where he stood. Roy happened to turn around and saw Chris staring at him. "What are you staring at?" he demanded.
Chris looked back at him and called out, "Well, I figure I can rope you, like your tee shirt says. I'm still trying to figure out whether I'd WANT to ride you." That got a laugh out of the guys in line for drinks, and Roy started to get up from his stool. One of the guys sitting next to him put a hand on his shoulder and whispered something in his ear. Roy called out, "Fuck you," and turned back to his beer and friends.
Chris made up his mind, and got out of line and headed for the door. One of Roy's friends saw Chris leaving, and pointed him out to Roy. Chris heard Roy making some rude comment behind him, something about scaring the pussy-boy off. Chris didn't turn around as he left.
Chris went back to his van to get a couple of things he'd need. He then headed back for the bar. Once again he stood near the doorway, letting his eyes adjust. If anyone looked over at him, this time they'd see chaps covering his legs, not the sissy black leather chaps guys wore in leather bars, but REAL chaps, used to protect you from long hours in the saddle. A couple of ropes hung down from Chris's belt, and a lariat was curled tightly in his hand. From where Chris stood to where Roy sat at the bar was maybe 20'.
Chris started slowly with his rope, twirling it gently at his side, then faster and faster, then it was at shoulder height, then over his head. The rope moved in a tight, controlled circle, as Chris stood there waiting, watching. If anyone noticed, he didn't say anything. At just the right moment he let fly with the rope.
Roy took a drink from his beer bottle then set it back on the bar. A couple of seconds later a circle of rope fell gently around his shoulders. In an instant the rope tightened as Chris pulled on it with a jerk. As Roy was pulled off the bar stool, another couple of loops of the rope settled around him, pinning his arms tightly to his sides as he fell to the floor.
Chris moved in quickly. As Roy lay there on the floor, momentarily stunned, Chris knelt hard on Roy's thighs, . He quickly tied off the rope holding Roy's arms, ran it down Roy's back and threw a couple of loops around Roy's ankles, thoroughly hog-tying him. He then raised both hands, signaling that he was done with the roping. Roy slowly got to his feet, then stood there with one boot planted on Roy's back, pinning him to the floor. Only then did he look at the stop-watch he held in one hand. "9.3 second," he thought. "Shit, I should have been able to rope him in under 8 seconds!" Not for nothing was Roy the winner of the Cheyenne rodeo for calf-roping.
As Roy lay there, cursing, applause broke out from the men in the bar. The loudest clapping seemed to come from Roy's friends. A couple of them called out, offering him beers and Roy's seat at the bar.
Instead of joining them immediately, Chris knelt down, turned Roy over onto his back. He knelt there, resting one knee on Roy's back. Speaking softly, so only Roy could hear, he said, "Well, I've roped you. Now I want to ride you. What do you say?" Chris noticed the bulging in Roy's crotch, and took that for a "yes."
Chris undid the rope from around Roy's ankles, then helped him to his feet. Chris kept the rope tied around Roy's arms. He turned Roy to face him and away from prying eyes. He grabbed Roy's crotch, feeling his hardness and again asked, "Well, are you ready to be ridden?" Roy nodded his assent, so Chris undid the rope holding his arms to his sides. "Do you want to finish your beer before we go?"
Roy said, "Sure, dude. You won fair and square." Chris took a beer offered by Roy's friends as they clasped him on the shoulders and congratulated him for besting Roy. "Take good care of him!" and "Be sure to put your brand on him!" were called out as Chris and Roy left the bar.
Chris led Roy to the side of the horse van. He unlocked a door, pulled down a step, and reached in to turn on the light. Chris and Roy stepped into the van. On the right were two horse stalls, separated by a shoulder-height wall. On their left, towards the front of the van, were some cupboards. Chris closed and locked the door, then told Roy, "Get undressed and let's get going."
As Roy undressed, Chris opened a cupboard and pulled out a sleeping bag, which he spread on the floor of one of the stalls. He also got out some rope and other paraphernalia. Then he started undressing.
"Get down, on your back," Chris ordered. Roy slowly got down on his knees, then his stomach, then awkwardly rolled onto his back. "I guess you don't have much experience as a bottom!" Chris exclaimed. Chris stood over Roy, checking him out. Roy's well-built chest was covered with brown hair, which tapered nicely to a treasure trail leading down a flat waist to a thick patch surround his cock. As Chris stood there, Roy's cock started hardening. It was a nice cock, maybe 6-1/2" long, and neatly cut.
Chris straddled Roy's chest, then sat down, resting his knees on Roy's shoulders. "First you get me hard, then I'm going to plough you," Chris told Roy. Chris took hold of his cock, which had hardened to its full eight inches. He started rubbing it back and forth across Roy's lips, the tip just brushing the bottom of his nose. "I don't suck cock," Roy declared.
Without a word, Chris stood up. "Turn over," he told Roy. Roy turned over onto his stomach, then raised his ass in the air, preparing to get fucked. Instead, Chris grabbed a short length of rope, and before Roy knew what was happening, tied his wrists behind his back. Chris then knelt over Roy, and with seemingly little effort, turned him back onto his back. Chris sat down once again on Roy's chest, took hold of his cock, and started rubbing it again across Roy's face. "Tonight you ARE sucking cock," he declared.
Chris reached behind him and felt Roy's hard cock. With one hand he played with it, then started playing roughly with Roy's balls. With the other he continued rubbing his cock across Roy's lips. At last they parted, and Roy sucked in the first couple of inches. Chris rocked forward, then grabbed the back of Roy's head and forced another couple of inches into his mouth. He then rocked back pulling most of his cock out of Roy's mouth. Back and forth he rocked; in and out went his cock.
Suddenly Chris sat back on Roy's chest, then ripped open a condom. He rolled it onto his hard cock. Then moved back and knelt between Roy's legs. "Aren't you going to lube me?" Roy whined.
Chris reached for a plastic bottle and poured a dollop of liquid into his hand. "What's that? Roy asked.
"It's horse liniment," Chris replied, as he rubbed the liquid up and down Roy's ass crack. Roy tightened his legs against the expected pain. "Just kidding, Chris said, laughing. "It's lubricant," he added. "I'm not the only driver of this van who likes to rope and ride men. We keep it here for guys like you." Chris kept rubbing the lotion up and down, then forced first one, then a second finger into Roy's hole. Roy's cock reacted by getting harder, if that was possible. It also started leaking.
Chris took hold of Roy's ankles and pulled them up and out. Roy may not have gotten fucked often, but he knew what to do. He rested his ankles on Chris's shoulder as Chris lined up his sheathed sword. Chris lunged forward suddenly, burying his cock in Roy's hole. Roy cried out as the eight inches invaded him.
Chris waited there for a minute, letting Roy's poor ass muscles spasm and relax as they tried to accommodate him. Chris then pulled back, almost all the way out, before lunging again and burying his cock completely. Again and again Chris repeated this syncopated thrusting, before settling into a steady in and out rhythm. By then Roy's ass muscles had been "broken," and simply formed a tight seal around Chris's cock as he thrust in and out.
After some five minutes of slow, steady fucking, Chris picked up the pace. Then faster and faster, leaning heavily on Roy, forcing him back further. Roy's face, which held a grimace of pain, began relaxing, then tensing, then gasping as the tip of Chris's cock finally found the sweet spot in Roy's ass. Again and again Chris thrust, again and again his cock poked Roy's prostate. Again and again Roy gasped and grunted, first with pain, now with pleasure.
Chris gave a sudden thrust, deeper then before, then held himself there, buried deep in Roy's ass. Roy could feel Chris's cock erupting inside him, spurt after spurt filling the latex protection. It was too much; Roy gave a yell and Christ felt the first gush of sticky liquid spurt up Roy's chest.
Chris stayed there, leaning on Roy's bent and spent body, until his orgasmic spasms had well-subsided. Then he pulled out, carefully holding onto the base of the condom and not spilling any of his seed. He let Roy's legs down as he stood up to dispose of the used condom. Roy just lay there, trying to recover from the pounding he'd taken. A trail of cum ran upward across his chest from his navel to almost a line with his tits.
Chris stood looking over him again, then said, "Well, I've ridden you, now it's time to brand you." With that he grabbed Roy's ankles and quickly tied them to the corners of the stall. Roy started hollering, so Chris told him to shut up. "This won't hurt, and it's not permanent. If you don't want worse, then you'd better be a good boy and stop squawking."
Chris opened one of the cupboards and took out a jug of water, a bowl, and a couple of other things which Roy couldn't see. He poured some water into the bowl, and set it at Roy's side. He then knelt, then straddled Roy's thighs, leaving him perfect access to Roy's hair-covered chest. Chris took hold of a pair of electric clippers and turned them on.
"What are you doing?" Roy asked.
"I'm putting my brand on you," Chris replied. He mentally went through the motions of where he would shave, then leaned forward and pressed the clippers to Roy's chest. With one smooth, curving motion he shaved an eight-inch high "C" in the chest hair. Moving the clippers over, he shaved a "J," curling it artistically below the "C." Chris sat back to admired his work, then leaned forward to touch up a couple of spots. "'C' and 'J'," Chris said, "Those are my initials." They're something to remember me by," he added, grinning.
Chris then picked up a safety razor and began shaving the last of the hairs which the clipper had missed. He also sharpened the edges of the letters so that the "C" and "J" were as clear as possible. Chris set down the razor and put on a pair of plastic gloves. He then opened yet another bottle, and pulled out a small brush covered with a reddish-brown liquid. "Mercurochrome," Chris answered to the unasked question. "It'll wear off in a few days," he added.
Chris carefully applied the liquid to the bare spots on Roy's chest. The "C" and "J" came into focus, bright red-orange against the brown hair and light skin of Roy's chest. At last Chris was satisfied, so he closed up the bottle and peeled off his gloves.
Chris then sat back to admire his work. He felt something poking at his back, and turned around to find a hardening cock staring at him. Chris took it in his hand and started playing with it. "You like being shaved, don't you?" Chris asked Roy. "We can take care of that," he added as he picked up the clippers.
Roy make a feeble attempt to stop him as Chris ran the clippers across the thatch of hair above Roy's cock. Chris continued working the clippers around both sides of Roy's cock. With quick, sure strokes Chris took off as much hair as he could, running the clippers along Roy's hard and once-again dripping cock. Chris let the back of the clippers rest of Roy's balls, the vibrations making Roy's cock still harder. With a couple of passes of the clippers, most of the hair was gone from Roy's balls. Roy moaned all the while.
Chris turned off the clippers and set them down, then once again picked up the razor. He quickly shaved off what stubble was left of Roy's prized pubes. Roy's cock was soon smooth as the razor stroked its length. Chris took Roy's balls firmly in one hand, stretching them, tightening the skin of his ball sac as he ran the razor over them. Holding the now-smooth orbs out of the way, Chris continued scraping the skin leading towards Roy's ass.
Chris untied Roy's legs, and bent them back over Roy's head, once again putting Roy's asshole in the perfect position to be fucked. Only this time Chris violated Roy with the razor blade, shaving off the hairs around Roy's ass. Chris then carefully spread Roy's hole open with the fingers of one hand as he slowly scraped the remaining hairs, leaving Roy with the smoothest buns he'd had in 30 years. Roy's cock continued dripping as his asshole was worked on.
Chris let go over Roy's legs, leaving Roy flat on his back. Chris once again straddled Roy, then sat on his chest, only this time he faced Roy's cock. He reached for the gloves and carefully covered his hands. He then picked up the bottle of mercurochrome. "This is for insulting me in the bar," Chris said. He took the brush and carefully painted the length of Roy's rock-hard cock bright red-orange. He skinned back Roy's foreskin, painting the exposed skin with the fluid. Chris left the very tip of Roy's cock unpainted. Pushing Roy's cock out of the way, Chris took hold of Roy's balls and carefully covered them with the red-orange fluid. When he was done, Roy's cock and balls stood out against his pale skin like they were on fire.
Chris capped the bottle and set it aside, He checked that the mercurochrome was dry on Roy's skin before taking off his gloves. He then stood up, turned around, and sat back on Roy's chest. His cock, slowly hardening, was but inches from Roy's mouth.
"This time you're going to suck me off like you enjoy it," Chris said. He took hold of Roy's neck, supporting it as he bent Roy's head forward. Chris moved forward a bit as Roy gulped down his organ.
Chris got to his knees as he prepared to get down to serious face-fucking. As he rammed his cock in and out of Roy's mouth, he reached behind and started jerking on Roy's cock. Feeling Roy's leaking, he quickly move his palm to the tip of Roy's cock, and started rubbing, working his hand through the natural lube which soon covered the tip. Roy moaned and writhed, first in pleasure then in agony as Chris continued rubbing.
With a grunt Chris quickened the pace of his thrusting. Suddenly he let go of Roy's cock and took hold of the back of Roy's head with both hands, pulling it forward, then holding it as his cock let forth spurt after spurt down Roy's eager throat. As Chris felt the first of his cum splashing the inside of Roy's mouth he felt a different splashing on his back. Roy was cumming, and spraying, from the pleasure from the meat in his mouth, the excitement of the evening, the fulfillment of a man putting him in his place.
At last Chris was sated. He sat for a minute on Roy's chest, letting his cock soften as he caught his breath. Chris got up, and reached for a towel. He carefully wiped what cum he could reach from his back, then threw the towel at Roy so he could wipe off. Then he realized that Roy was still tied up. He helped Roy to his feet, then turned him around so his wrists could be untied.
After untying Roy, Chris went to a cupboard and came back with a camera. "Up against that back wall," he told Roy. Roy hesitated a moment, then saw the look in Chris's eyes, and moved to the back of the van. Chris posed him, then snapped a picture. Chris directed him to turn, and took a couple of more pictures. "Go get dressed," he told Roy."
As Roy was getting dressed, Chris snapped a few more pictures. Chris then put down the camera and got dressed, too. Roy was just about to put on his tee shirt, the once which proclaimed, "If you can rope me, you can ride me." "Give me that," Chris commanded. Roy handed it to him, and he slipped it on over his head. As he tucked it into his jean he commented, "It's a little big, but it'll do."
Roy glared daggers at him as he slipped on his vest over his bare and branded chest, then picked up his cowboy hat and put it on. Roy crossed him arms and discovered he could close the vest most of the way, and cover up most of the red letters with him arms. He stood that way as Chris straightened up the van. Finally Chris was ready to go. He took and told Roy, "Let's go."
"Where are we going?" Roy asked.
"Stupid question," Chris commented as he opened the door and motioned for Roy to step out of the van. Chris turned off the light and locked the door. "I'm thirsty, so we're going back to the bar. I'm going to let you buy me a beer. And if you behave, I won't tell your friends to de-pants you."
Chris and Roy walked across the parking lot to the door of the bar. Roy walked the entire way wit his arms crossed and a pissed-off expression on his face. Just as they reached the door Chris said, "Hold it a minute." Roy stopped. Chris reached over and plucked the hat from Roy's head.
Roy tried to stop him, crying "Hey, that's a $200 hat. Haven't you fucked me up enough?"
Chris turned and growled, "Behave and you'll get it back when I leave. Now shut up." As he opened the door, he reached over and took hold of one of Roy's arms. "And put your arms at your side." Roy put his arms at his sides, but held them close against the vest, trying to get it to stay closed.
Chris and Roy entered the bar. Chris saw that most of Roy's friends were still in the bar, but had moved to a couple of tables. He walked over to them, brandished Roy's hat and bowed. "Howdy, fellas," he said to them. They looked at him, then looked again as they realized he was wearing Roy's shirt and hat. Then they looked at Roy, who stood kind of turned away from them.
"I'm thirsty," Chris said, pulling his wallet out of his pocket. Handing a ten to Chris he said, "Go get me a Bud. And get yourself whatever you want." As Roy turned to go get the drinks, Chris called out, "Just a minute."
Roy looked back over his shoulder at him. "Give me your vest," Chris said. Roy hesitated. Chris mouthed the word, "Pants." Roy took off his vest, and dropped it to the floor as he walked away to get the drinks.
As he walked to the bar a couple of guys stared at his chest, then started laughing. Roy said nothing and pressed on. Everybody he passed stopped whatever he was doing to stare at the bright "CJ" emblazoned on Roy's chest. Most started laughing; they knew Roy was a top and knew he'd just been bested, or busted.
Roy decided to make the best of it. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that he was a winner, too. After all, he'd just had hot sex with a really hot, sexy guy! Roy stopped sulking, and stopped trying to cover his chest as he went to get the drinks. Instead of just getting bottles of beer for just Chris and himself, he got a large pitcher and glasses enough for the entire table.
Roy came walked back to the table almost jauntily, like it was perfectly normal to be shirtless in a gay bar (well, it is!) and perfectly normal to have a "brand" on your chest (well, some guys call them tattoos!) As Roy approached the table, his friends finally got to see what the commotion was about. They started laughing, and joshing Roy.
Roy said nothing; he just sat down and poured out a round of drinks for his buddies. Then he picked up a glass, aimed it in Chris's direction, and said, "I'd like to make toast. To a really hot guy and to the best sex I've had in--" then pausing and looking at his watch, he continued, "Well, since yesterday!"
Everybody at the table toasted Roy, then toasted Chris. After they'd sat there for a few minutes drinking and ruminating, Chris looked at his watch, then stood up. "It's been great, guys," he said, "But I've got a long drive ahead of me tomorrow." Then, turning to Roy he said, "I'll be back through here on Tuesday. You can try to get your shirt back." Turning to the other guys he added, "Unless one of you thinks he can rope me."
As they looked at Chris, a hunk of a guy, and wished that they COULD rope him, he turned to leave. Roy stood up. "Aren't you forgetting something?" Chris turned to him, then took him in his arms and pulled him close. Chris gave him a deep kiss, then turned to leave. As he walked away he called over his shoulder, "See you on Tuesday." Then he turned suddenly, grabbed the brim of the cowboy hat, and tossed it the few feet onto Roy's head. Chris walked out the door of the bar, whistling as he left.