Camp 177 by David Packer

In 1991 I was captured and swiftly shipped off to an internment camp for
experiment purposes. I don't remember exactly how it happened. All I know
is I was walking down the street when two cops came up to me and started
pushing me against a wall. I thought they were crazy and tried to pry
loose but I was unsucessful. Soon they had me down on the ground and
handcuffed, one officer's boot on my back, and I was completely helpless.
I felt a blow to my head with something hard and then I fainted.

When I came to I was still handcuffed, lying on my stomach on the floor
of a large cage with about fifteen other prisoners in the same condition.
It seemed we were on the back of a big military truck. Some of the
prisoners were moaning in pain - I suppose they had been treated the same
way I had. Three Officers in tall black boots and dark blue police
uniforms were seated comfortably outside the cage. When they heard the
prisoners moan, they stuck cattle prods between the bars of the cage and
gave the unruly men a few seconds of electricity. Soon everyone was
quiet, for fear of the Officers. The big, brutal guards laughed at our
helplessness and pointed at us with powerful, gloved hands.

The truck eventually came to a halt and the doors were opened. One guard
unlocked the cage and then there was a whirr of an engine and the cage
tilted so that all handcuffed prisoners fell out of the truck onto the
mud outside. The guards had been joined by colleagues and they stood in a
circle around the prisoners and laughed when we cried out in pain. I was
extremely frightened. Every Officer was at least six foot tall and
weighed two hundred pounds. All of them wore sunglasses and Motorcycle
Police uniforms with tall leather boots and massive gun belts. Some of
them were chewing on some tobacco and others were smoking cigars.

'Prisoners, strip!' an Officer ordered. We tried to get out of our
clothes with our hands still cuffed behind our backs. I was sinking into
the mud while I struggled to take off my pants. The mud was at least four
feet deep and soon I was up to my neck in it, like everyone else. The
Officers stood with their shiny black boots planted on a red carpet that
had been rolled out especially for them on firm ground.

All of the Officers were white men between the ages of 20 and 50. Some
looked like Italian decendants and others seemed to be of South American
or Spanish origin, but most of them looked like inbred, cornfed
Americans. They were tanned and looked very healthy and relaxed, as
opposed to us prisoners who were pale and sick and were wallowing in the
mud. 'Move it, pigs!' the Officers shouted and used their cattle prods or
nightsticks on us. I was shocked by a prod for about ten seconds and I
screamed and sank further into the mud, so that it filled my mouth
completely. The Officer laughed and told me to undress quicker.

I was completely humiliated the whole time. The Officers just stood in
their big boots and Police uniforms and maintained total control over us
without even breaking a sweat. After about half an hour we had managed to
rip our clothes off and stood naked on our knees beside the mud pool.

One big Officer, at least 250 pounds, stood in front of us, so close that
we couldn't se more than his boots and black breeches. He had a horsewhip
stuck down the shaft on his right boot. 'Look around, pigs' he said while
puffing on a big, expensive cigar. 'You will never leave this prison! You
will die in here, and it will be when an Officer decides to kill you!' We
looked at each other in horror. What was this place? What had we done to
deserve this?

'You will learn that every second of every day in here means suffering
and pain.' He blew out a cloud of smoke and tapped the cigar so that some
ashes fell on the first row of prisoners at his feet. 'And you can't
escape. The prison walls are 500 feet tall and 40 feet thick.' We looked
up at the towering prison walls that encased the prison yard. At the top
of the wall were big search lights and an impenetrable forest of razor
wire. There was hardly any daylight getting in. It would be impossible to
get out. 'You are here to work, and to serve us Officers.' He puffed on
the cigar. 'You thought you were men, but here you are nothing but
animals. You will spend 24 hours a day, 7 days a week cowering in fear of
a uniformed Officer.' Someone among us prisoners had a breakdown. 'Oh
God! Help us!' he cried. The whole group of Officers laughed out loud.
The big one with the whip too. 'We are your Gods here! You will worship
us now!'

The prisoner who had shouted was dragged off by an Officer in a green
Highway Patrol uniform. Meanwhile it had started raining. The Officers
went indoors and left us prisoners kneeling in the mud. We had been
forbidden to move, and as it turned out the rain lasted nearly six hours.
When the rain stopped the Officers came out again and laughed at the
prisoners who were still kneeling obediently. From a door emerged the
prisoner who had shouted with the uniformed Officer walking before him.
When he came closer we could see a muzzle tightly sealed over his mouth
and locked in place with several different padlocks. 'He will wear this
for one month' the Officer said. 'If he's still alive then, I might take
it off.'

'Time for branding!' a Guard wearing a leather jacket and extra tall
motorcycle patrol boots said. The prisoners were hearded off one by one
to a room just inside the prison with some branding equipment. The same
burly black-haired Officer had leather police gauntlets on and stood
ready with the branding iron. The prisoners screamed out in agony as the
red hot branding iron marked their flesh. I nearly fainted from the pain
when the Officer gave me my prison number. On my forehead, on my chest
and on my back he branded me with the same code: S9873C98ZXDF87-987SX.
'Learn your number or die, pig' he said, then he grabbed me by the throat
and threw me in a heap with the other, already marked prisoners.

I could not believe that this would be my place for the rest of my life.
Tears were rolling down my cheeks, and the other prisoners seemed to look
the same. We were all pale and sick and near collapse. The big, macho
guards stood broad legged in their Highway Patrol uniforms, guarding us
the entire time and laughing at our misery. I felt like a bug next to
those enormous men with their bulging arms and beefy legs.

'What are you looking at, pig?' one of the guards barked to me. 'Are you
a faggot? I saw the way you stared at my crotch!' He grabbed me by my
bruised throat and carried me back to the Officer with the branding iron.
'Looks like they're faggots. Better cut their slimy little dicks and
balls off,' he told his partner with a snicker. They placed my naked,
trembling body in front of a metal slab and ordered me to stand still.
Their uniformed, massive bodies completely dominated me and I had no
other choice but to obey. The big Officer with the leather patrol jacket
and the tall motorcycle police boots took out a knife and heated it over
the flame until it was red hot. Then he slowly cut through my penis and
then proceeded with the testicles. The pain was almost too much for me
but the other Officer ordered me to be quiet.

They threw me on the floor and continued to castrate the other prisoners.
Soon there was a big group of naked, trembling prisoners squirming in
pain at their booted feet. The Officers shook hands and snickered at our
emasculated bodies. 'Hardons are only for real men, like us Officers, you
pigs!' they said. 'Your lives are going to be devoted to serving real men
from now on. Don't forget that!' They threw us out into the mud on the
prison yard and ordered us to stand at attention.

'Now us Real Men are going to bed. You swine don't deserve any sleep. You
will stand at attention, completely still the entire night. Eyes down,
heads bowed. We have cameras registering you. If anyone moves, they will
be shot in the morning. Have a nice night, eunucks!'

For fear of being shot I decided to be obedient. The pain where my penis
used to be told me that I should keep my eyes down and always obey these
Policemen, no matter what. It was almost impossible to stand still
because the agony was nearly killing me, but I had to try. The hours went
slowly by while the Officers slept comfortably in their beds. We stood
with our heads bowed and our legs deep in the mud on the prison
courtyard. Sometimes the night guards passed us and laughed at our
situation. After about two hours one prisoner fell in the mud, then
twenty minutes later another. After two hours, four people had fallen. My
legs were shaking and I was freezing but I had to obey the Officers'
orders or I would be shot.

Sometime in the mid morning, the Officers came sauntering out after
having eaten a big breakfast. 'Disobedient prisoners crawl over here!'
they ordered, pointing with gloved hands at those who had fallen in the
mud. I had managed to stay up, thankfully. The unfortunate prisoners
crawled through the mud towards the Officers' feet where they stopped.
Relaxed, the Officers took out their guns from their shiny leather
holsters and aimed them at the prisoners' feet, then shot them. I was
shocked! The Officers seemed pleased and put the guns back into their
leather holsters. 'Hope the rest of you had a pleasant night' one
Policeman said. 'It was the last one spent standing up!' The Officers
smiled and I sensed they meant something sinister. 'Line up for
amputation, pigs!' It was the Officer who had first spoken, with the whip
in his boot shaft. 'From now on you'll spend your time down in the shit,
where you belong!'

They forced us to form a line on all fours in the mud. One by one we were
made to crawl up to an Officer who had a sledgehammer in his gloved
hands. The Officer swung the sledge with his powerful arms and crushed
first the prisoner's arms, then its legs. 'Thank the Officer, faggot!'
they ordered, and the prisoner, barely alive, had to thank the Policeman
who had crippled him. Soon we all lay in a bloody heap in the mud and the
Officers seemed pleased. They stepped over to us and, one by one, hit us
on the head with the butt of their rifles. Soon all of us had fainted and
were powerless to resist.

When we woke up we were in a cage on the floor somewhere. I discovered to
my horror that I had been amputated while I was unconscious! My arms had
been cut off at the elbows, and my legs at the knees. The stumps were
crudely burnt to stop the bleeding. Before long, the sound of boots
filled the room and the cage was surrounded by big Officers. 'Look at you
now pigs! Hope you enjoy crawling around down there in the shit and mud!'
They opened the cage and let us out. 'Crawl on your stumps, pigs! We want
to see you squirm down there at our feet!'

The pain was horrible as I tried to walk on the stumps. The Officers
enjoyed seeing us struggle to obey them. 'Move! Outside! Time for a bit
of training!' The forced us to crawl outside again. 'Not the mud! That
would be too soft on your disgusting little stumps. Hit the asphalt!' Big
Police boots kicked us towards an enormous asphalt courtyard. It was
extremely painful to support my torso on my amputated limbs, but I had to
obey the Officers. The asphalt was hard and ripped at our burnt flesh as
we squirmed on all fours as ordered.

'We'll start off with a hundred laps! Now crawl, pigs!' The Policemen
took out their guns and fired them into the air. The prisoners squirmed
obediently on their stumps along the sides of the courtyard. 'Faster!'
One Officer kicked me in the ribs with a steel-toed Police boot. I
crawled faster, obediently. 'Not good enough, pig. Faster!' My stumps
were flapping like the wings of a bird as I squirmed along the wall.
'Even faster! If you don't obey you'll be shot, cunt!' I tried to obey
him. I crawled so fast I thought I would die. Drool was coming out of my
mouth. And I hadn't even completed one fifth of the first lap yet!

The Policemen sat down in comfortable chairs with their boots propped up
on soft pillows so as not to scratch the soles on the asphalt. One
Officer had a paper with all the prisoners' numbers. 'You!
S9873C98ZXDF87-987SX! Faster!' That was me! I did my best to obey the
order. My short little stumps hurt so much that pain was all I felt. The
Officers lit expensive cigars and relaxed as they watched us run. Even
though the prison walls were so high, hot sunlight managed to burn our
skin as we squirmed around on the ground. It was the most terrible thing
I had ever experienced.

'That's the first lap!' an Officer shouted after a few minutes. 'On the
next lap you'd better run faster you little pigs or you'll get a bullet
in the brains!' It seemed impossible, but all prisoners tried to crawl
even faster to obey the Police order. Some prisoners failed to obey
sufficiently and a few of the Officers stood up and loaded their guns.
The shots echoed between the prison walls, but luckily I was not one of
those who died. 'When you squirm past our feet, don't get any dust on our
Patrol boots, pigs!' they ordered, and we all tried not to stir up any
dust when we passed them.

The morning passed slowly and a few more prisoners were shot for
disobedience. One prisoner almost lost his balance, being unused to
crawling on four stumps. 'We told you not to get dirt on our boots,
prisoner! Now look at these specks of dust that soil my comfortable
leather boots here!'

The Officers stood up and took out their guns again, then shot him one
time in each stump, arms and legs. 'Now start squirming again. From the
start - one hundred laps!' The prisoner now had no stumps to crawl on
either. On his bare belly he inched forward on the dirty ground. The rest
of us had crawled at least eighteen laps, but that unfortunate inmate had
to start all over agan, and with no limbs!

Despite the pain and the heat, the morning passed and it was almost noon.
I had completed twenty-one laps without any mishap, but I felt the
Officers were watching me - watching us all - for any signs of slowing
down. 'Time for a nice long lunch. You subhumans keep crawling! A mere
hundred laps won't be enough to teach you your place, but it's a start!'
The Officers trailed off and left us with a few Guards and the scorching,
unforgiving sun. The limbless prisoner now had scraped his body so bad he
left a blood trail around the whole courtyard. All because he got dust on
an Officer's boots. I told myself I had to avoid that at all costs!

I lost track of time and space. All I did was crawl. I heard the Officers
returning from their lunch, but I kept crawling at the same speed so as
not to enrage them. 'You've been slacking during lunchtime, huh? You'd
all better be crawling faster if you want to live!' The Policemen took
their place in the comfortable chairs again with their Patrol boots
propped up on the soft pillows. Now they had plenty of bottles of water
and beer to cool themselves if they felt too hot. All of them wore
mirrored sunglasses to shield them from the sun.

Noon turned to afternoon and then early evening. The uniformed Officers
would not let us slow down even a bit. Two more prisoners had been shot,
but the rest of us were crawling obediently on the hard asphalt as
ordered. Eventually, to my surprise, when the sun had set and it was
close to midnight, it seemed I had managed the one hundred laps, together
with a few others. 'Halt!' one Officer shouted. 'That's one hundred laps.
Time for you pigs to get some rest.' We couldn't believe our ears. Would
we really get to rest? And something to drink maybe?

'All prisoners out onto the middle of the courtyard!' They kicked us
toward the center and made us stop there. 'Now you will stand at
attention again - on your stumps! Heads bowed, eyes down!'

I took my place, nearly dead from exhaustion. 'Head bowed lower, pig!' an
Officer barked and stomped the back of my head with his motorcycle patrol
boot. I hit the asphalt with a hard bang and everything started spinning
even more, but I managed to stay on the stumps and keep my head even
lower. The Officer waited, his booted foot right under my face, until he
was satisfied I had the right position. From the corner of my eye I saw
the prisoner who had been shot in the limbs still crawling on his belly.
He was only on his thirty-fourth lap!

'You pansies remain in that position until morning. Time for the real men
to relax after a hard day's work!' The Officers snickered and swaggered
off to their comfortable quarters. Amazingly, I managed to fall asleep,
or half asleep, in the ordered position. I suppose I might as well have
collapsed without knowing it, but for some reason my body remained
upright even when my mind was elsewhere. In my feverish dreams I saw only
pictures of big men in Highway Patrol uniforms and tall, shiny leather
boots on their big feet.

'Pigs, wake up!' a dark voice barked. The Officers were back. This time
there were even more of them, in newly ironed and pressed uniform shirts
and perfectly creased uniform breeches, and freshly oiled leather belts
and holsters with recently loaded guns. 'How did you like your first day
as legless little worms? From now on it'll get even better!' Every
prisoner stood at rigid attention, on all fours, when hearing the
commanding voice of an Officer. Beads of sweat formed on our foreheads.

The Officer who had gotten some dust on his boots sauntered over to the
still squirming torso that used to be a prisoner. He placed one size 15
EE boot on either side of the prisoner's bloody face. If there had been
any dust on the giant Police boots, it was gone now. 'Halt!' the Officer
ordered. The bloody prisoner obeyed. 'Look at my boots, pig!' the Officer
ordered. Slowly, the inmate raised his thrashed face a little and fixed
his eyes on the gleaming leather boots under his nose. 'I have had these
boots polished during the night because of your insolence! What lap are
you on, swine?'

The prisoner could hardly speak, and when he did, bubbles of blood and
saliva formed at his parched lips. 'Ninety-six, Sir' he croaked. The
towering Officer thought about this for a moment, then took out a cigar
from one of the pockets on his belt. He lit it and tapped some still-
glowing ashes onto the blood soaked body at his feet. 'Start over and do
a hundred more. Now!' He snapped his powerful fingers and then stepped
aside. The prisoner's body was trembling violently for some reason, then
it started moving forward again. The Officer looked at the squirming
animal and shook his head. Then he took the gun out of his leather
holster and aimed it at the struggling creature. He fired and placed one
bullet in the prisoner's right buttock. Then fired again and hit the
left. The Officers laughed as the now even less human prisoner tried to
squirm across the asphalt.

'Follow me, gimps!' another Officer ordered the rest of us, and we
crawled behind his sturdy size 14 boots towards the muddy field again.
There was an old barrel with sewage water in it, and one of the other
Officers placed his foot on the side and pushed it over. Old yellow water
and a few dozen cigar butts floated out into the mud and formed a little
pool. 'Breakfast, you hogs. Go ahead and drink!' The sight of water, even
disgusting water like this, made us nearly crazy. We all wallowed in the
mud, trying to drink the filthy liquid. 'You really are pigs!' one
Policeman smiled. 'Grunt like pigs, you little animals!' Immediately we
obeyed the order, trying to sound like pigs. This made the Police
Officers laugh. They stood on a platform raised above the mud and covered
by soft carpet so that their boots would not get dirty.

I gulped down the filthy water as best I could, but I had not swallowed
more than three small gulps when the Policemen ordered us to stop.
'That's enough you greedy assholes! Stand at attention!' None of us had
gotten nearly enough to drink! My lips and tongue were still like
sandpaper. 'Let's get you swine collared now. Get your filthy bodies out
of the mud! Heel!' The Officers slapped their horsewhips against the
shafts of their boots and we obediently crawled towards them, away from
the delicious sewage water. Each Officer had a prisoner at his right
foot, and then they marched us over to a shack near the corner of the
prison walls.

'Put you neck on the anvil, asswipe!' I was ordered. I crawled over to a
big anvil and placed my neck on the cold iron. The Officer put his size
13 E boot on my throat and held it there while selecting from a large
number of steel collars that hung on a rack. He took his time, taking a
few down then putting them up again. Eventually he chose a heavy collar,
about three inches high and half an inch thick. It had sixteen sharpened
spikes on the inside, and there were sturdy steel rings both on the front
side and backside for fastening leashes. He chose a hammer, then took his
boot off my throat. 'Head up!' he barked. I lifted my head and he placed
the open collar under my neck. Then he stomped the back of my head with
his foot, jamming the spikes into my throat. With a powerful gloved hand
he closed the collar and then hammered it in place with massive blows.

Each blow made the spikes dig further into the flesh of my neck until I
was bleeding all around. The heavy steel collar was now permanently
fastened around my neck, and the spikes constantly digging into my flesh.
The Officer grabbed the ring on the back of the collar with a gloved
finger and pulled it. In agony I moved my whole body in order to follow
his hand. The spikes caused an intense, lasting pain every second he
pulled on the collar. I had to completely obey him and follow his every
hand move or the pain would shoot through my body like lightning.

When the Policeman was convinced that the collar was satisfying, the next
Officer moved in, and so on until all prisoners were collared. I stood at
attention on all four stumps, as ordered, and discovered how heavy and
painful the steel collar was even without anyone tugging on it. When all
prisoners were assembled the Officers came out of the shack with heavy
duty leather leashes and attached them to our collars. 'Keep a straight
leash! No slack and no pull or you will be shot!' The Officers wandered
off and we all had to follow their massive bodies on our amputated
stumps. The Policeman holding my leash was swinging his muscular arm back
and forth as he walked and I had to sprint forward and then slow down
constantly to keep the leash straight without pull or slack.

In order to crawl as ordered, I had to fix my eyes on the massive,
muscular body of the Officer to see how he moved - his powerful legs, the
heavy leather belt with his loaded gun all ready in its holster, his big,
slightly hairy arms coming out of his short sleeved gray uniform shirt,
and the police gloves on his strong hands. And here was I, castrated,
amputated and starved. Just a worm following this powerful Officer on my
short stumps. And now it was afternoon, just the second day of my life
sentence here at Camp 177.

We passed the asphalt courtyard where the punished prisoner was still
edging forward. The punishing Officer stepped out of the group and headed
over to the crawling heap. Again he placed a size 15 EE boot in front of
the inmate's face and ordered a halt. 'What lap are you on, swine?'

The prisoner's voice was barely audible. 'Twelve, Sir...' He seemed
barely alive. The Police Officer seemed pleased. 'Crawl over to that
door. Now.' The prisoner was flopping forward on his limbless body
towards the door of a low storage building. He was surprisingly fast,
pehaps because the Officer walked in front of him. The Police Officer
opened the door and disappeared inside, then came out with a thirty-pound
sack of fertilizer. He dropped it on the prisoner's back with a heavy
thud, nearly crushing the inmate in the process. 'You like dirt enough to
spread it all over my boots - well now you've got your own sack of shit
to carry!' He kicked the prisoner in the head. 'You were on your first
lap. There's nintey-nine more. Move!'

I caught a glimpse of the poor prisoner trying to squirm, then I had to
turn my eyes back to the Officer holding my leash. They took us to a
concrete building with no windows, just a door. Inside was just a
staircase leading down, and we were taken two floors down into the
basement. A heavy steel door with locks on the outside was opened, and
behind it was a narrow corridor leading forward. We passed several more
security doors, then turned left into a small room with cages in it. The
Officers unhooked the leather leashes from our collars and kicked us one
by one into each of the steel boxes. They were so small that we had to
bow our heads as much as possible to fit in. Just a few square feet, and
maybe twenty inches high. The cage door had bars covered in many layers
of sharp barbed wire, and when the Policemen closed the doors, the spikes
cut into our flesh. There were solid security doors, too, but they were
open at the moment.

'Welcome to your new home, maggots. Hope you enjoy these prison cells
because you'll be spending a lot of time down here!' The Police Officers
laughed and kicked some of the cages with their boots. Then they put down
the outer steel door on each cage, sealing us in completely. There were
five separate locks on each cage door and no chance of ever getting out
because the Officers carried the keys in their big black leather belts.
The sound of the Officers' boots faded and I was left in total darkness
and isolation, my cheek pressed against the barbed wire. I immediately
fell asleep.

I don't know how long I had been in the cage when it suddenly opened with
a big bang. An Officer in a deep blue Motorcycle Patrol uniform leaned
down and hooked a leash to my collar, then pulled me out with full force.
It was a Policeman in his forties, chewing on gum. He wore tight breeches
with a light blue stripe along each leg. He lifted my entire body by the
leash with one powerful hand and looked at me. The pain from the spikes
inside the collar nearly made me faint. Then he dropped me and watched me
fall on the concrete floor at his booted feet. He hooked the short leash
to his leather belt and snapped his fingers. 'Heel!' he ordered. On my
aching stumps I cowered next to his right boot, obediently. There was a
powerful smell of leather and boot polish.

The Officer walked and I followed at his right foot. He took me up the
stairs and outside to the asphalt courtyard again. There was some blood
on the ground but no sign of the limbless prisoner who had been punished.
'You pigs make a mess wherever you go,' the Police Officer said. 'Throat
under my bootheel, now.' He lifted his right leather boot slightly and I
quickly threw mysef flat on the ground and placed my neck under his
bootheel. He stomped his foot down with full force, choking me
completely. He unhooked the leash from my collar and rolled it up. 'You
will scrub this courtyard spotless. Any sign of blood or dirt and you
will be shot.' He took his foot off my neck and walked off.

There was a bucket half filled with some dirty water and a small rag that
looked like a ripped up shirt - maybe one of the prisoners'. I took the
rag in my mouth and dropped it in the bucket, then had to stick my head
in and get it out again. I dropped the wet rag on the asphalt, then
started wiping it, with some difficulty. It was extremely hard to work
like this, but I had no hands so it was the only way! I wanted to drink
the water but I knew I would be shot if I did, so I had to restrain
myself.

After a few hours the Officer came back. I heard his heavy steps
approaching but I was afraid to look up. 'It's not going so fast, is it
boy?' He stood next to me for a minute and watched me scrub the asphalt,
then suddenly kicked me hard in the ribs so that I flipped once in the
air and landed on my back. Then he placed his foot on my chest and leaned
down with his nightstick tightly gripped in a gloved hand. 'This
courtyard had better shine by tomorrow, worm! We're taking our Police
Motorcycles out to get some sunshine, and the ground had better reflect
our images when we do!' He swatted the nightstick on the side of my
mouth, crushing one of my teeth. Then he took his foot off me again and
put the nightstick back in his belt and left. I threw myself back on the
cleaning rag and began scrubbing even harder.

Sometime late that night I finished scrubbing the asphalt. The Officer
wasn't pleased but he let me live. He picked up the empty bucket and hit
me over the head with it several times until I lay still in a heap at his
feet. Then he took the leash from his belt again and attached it to my
collar and ordered me to heel. He dragged me so hard the spikes
threatened to rip my throat apart and I followed as obedeiently as I
could. I was taken through the entire prison towards a large building
with big garage doors on it. Inside stood ten or twenty Police Harley
Davidson Patrol Motorcycles lined up. The room smelled of gasoline, oil,
and steel. Officers were strolling around, fiddling with their bikes.

'Now you've cleaned the parade ground, let's see some gloss on those
tires. Down!' He stomped me on the back, forcing me to lie on my belly on
the garage floor. He grabbed an adjustable workbench and rolled it over
in front of me. Then he lowered it all the way to the floor. 'Put your
head in the vise, turd!' He snapped his fingers, and I had to inch
forward and place my head in the powerful vise. With a gloved hand he
tightened it until I screamed out in pain and horror. 'Quiet, pig.' He
tightened it quite a bit more until my skull was nearly crushed and I lay
helpless with my face at floor level.

Then he walked over to a big Police Harley Davidson and fastened his
gloves a little. He lit a cigar and then sank down on the bike - his butt
slowly relaxing on the shiny padded leather seat of the enormous
motorcycle. He started the bike with a roar, then put it in gear with his
boot and drove towards my helpless head. The enormous Police Motorcycle
closed in on me as tears ran down my cheeks. With expert control of the
powerful machine between his muscular legs, he drove the bike until the
front tire was nearly crushing my face, then he stopped and parked it
there. My face was crushed against the dirty rubber and my mouth was
filling with something that tasted like horse manure that had attached
itself to the tire.

He stepped off the bike and took off his gloves. 'Now lick it clean!' The
Officer took one step over my head and then leaned down and set the wheel
spinning with his hand. The Police Motorcycle was parked tilted, so that
the front wheel was free for spinning. As it did, my face was nearly torn
apart by the tracks from the heavy rubber tire. Eventually it stopped and
I could start licking it. My mouth filled with horse manure, mud, dust,
dog shit and tarmac. The enormous wheel was so dirty that my stomach
seemed full after just a minute. I had to use my tongue to try and rotate
the wheel to reach more dirt. I could not believe this was just one of
the first days in this hell! I cried silently as I licked the dirt off
the Police Motorcycle tire. Maybe it would be better to be dead!

After two hours I had licked both tires clean of mud, but before I had a
chance to breathe, the next Officer drove his bike over and placed it in
the same way and I had to start all over again. By now my mouth was so
sore that every time I stretched my tongue out, flashes of pain shot
through my body. The Policeman was sitting relaxed on his motorcycle
while I cleaned the tire, and he was reading a magazine. After him came
another Officer with a new bike, and then another. After ten hours I was
ready to die from exhaustion.

Thankfully, I was released - a heavyset, patrol uniformed Guard with a
round face and shaved head released the vise and my head fell down with a
hard thud. 'In position behind my feet, maggot!' he ordered, and I
struggled to take my place at his police shoes as instructed. He unhooked
a leash from his belt and attached it to the collar, then dragged me out
of the garage. I was taken to a part of the prison where I had never been
before. The place was brimming with activity, with normal, two legged
prisoners hauling big logs of wood back and forth. The Officer ordered me
to take my place in front of a big cart where one other inmate was
already chained, then he attached me securely by my steel collar with two
heavy padlocks.

'Prison activities - you're gonna be hauling wood for making boot blocks.
We wanna make sure our patrol boots keep their shape even when they're
off our feet!' He cracked a whip and directed us to a big pile of logs. A
prisoner wearing an orange jumpsuit loaded log after log onto the cart
until it was completely and fully stacked. 'Pigs, the wood goes in the
big pile all the way on the other side there! Move!' He had taken out his
cattle prod and stuck it between my ribs, keeping it firmly in place
there on medium setting until we had gotten the cart rolling. Then he
took it off and hung it back on his belt, choosing to kick me with his
steel-capped shoes instead.

'Faster, assholes! Faster!' His big foot hit me in the same spot every
time, increasing the pain tenfold with each kick. We both tried to move
faster on our sore stumps, but the enormous cart was so heavy it seemed
impossible. The Officer kicked me even harder for a few minutes until I
could hear my ribs crack, then changed position and started whipping our
backs with his horsewhip. It split the air before it ripped deep cuts on
both our backs. His powerful arm kept the whip going and I felt blood
dripping off me and into the mud. 'That's better. Keep up this speed or
I'll have you both gutted!' He hung the whip back on his belt, then
stepped up and sat on the cart so that we had to pull his big body also.

He forced us to take the long way around the whole work site. At the
other side, another prisoner unloaded the cart, and the Officer
supervised us while keeping his hand on his gun. 'You look tired, swine!'
he told me. 'Maybe you need some inspiration to help you move faster?' I
heard him walk over to the big pile of wood, and he came back with a big,
knotty stick. It was about two feet long and an inch and a half thick,
with splinters and sharp thorns all over it. 'Stick your ham up, pig!'
the Officer ordered while inspecting the stick in his gloved hand. I
tried to stand on the very tips of my back stumps to obey the order. The
Officer then jammed the stick into my ass, inch by inch, until only a
little bit of it was sticking out. The thorns were ripping at my insides
like red hot glowing needles and I wanted to scream out loud.

The Officer demanded I move faster this time, and I had to use all my
force to pull the cart back to the new logs again. The other Guards
laughed when they saw me struggling with the stick inside of me. For the
rest of the day I had to struggle twice as hard to manage to keep up the
same speed with the pain of the rough thorns ripping at my guts from
inside!

At the end of the day the prisoners were taken back to their cages, but I
was ordered to stay along with three other inmates. 'You've been slacking
off all day, pigs!' we were told by a group of Motor Patrol Officers.
They stood broad legged, wearing dark green motorcycle uniforms in front
of our trembling bodies. 'Looks like you need a bit of punishment
exercise. Hit the asphalt, now!'

They kicked us to the big courtyard again. 'A hundred laps. Heads bowed
at all times. Move!' They watched us scuttle on our stumps on the
unforgiving tarmac. 'Heads down lower! Move faster!' We lowered our heads
and tried to crawl faster. I still had the stick inside me and it was
torturing me relentlessly. 'You! Faster!' an Officer ordered me. I was a
few yards behind the other two prisoners who didn't have anything tearing
at their insides. The Officer walked up to me and stomped me to the
ground with his size 14 E Motor Patrol boot on my neck. 'Looks like you
can't obey orders, worm!' He grabbed some steel shackles from his belt
and put them on my rear stumps. Each steel cuff was fastened in place
with tight screws, nearly crushing my already sore limbs. The chain
between the cuffs was only about a foot long, and when he took his heel
off my neck I discovered I could only take miniature steps.

'Now get going. From the start, head bowed!' He kicked me hard in the
ribs and walked over to the other Motor Officers. I started strutting
forward on my even more restricted limbs, and my rear stumps tightly
shackled. The Officers watched me and laughed as I tried to keep up with
the other prisoners. Then they headed for the Policemen's Quarters for
relaxation, their knee-high black boots gleaming in the moonlight as they
walked. I cried silently as I jerkily hopped forward on my amputated
limbs.

After a few hours the Officer with the shackles came back with one of his
colleagues. They seemed happy and drunk. 'You! Stickboy! Heel!' he
ordered and snapped his fingers. As the other inmates continued doing
their laps, I jerked myself over to the big Policemen on the other side
of the courtyard. 'What lap are you on, turd?' he demanded. I tried to
reply even though I was panting hard. 'E-eleven, Sir...' My answer earned
me a kick in the ribs. 'Still slacking off, eunuch?' He flipped me over
with the toe of his boot, then put his foot on my chest and attached
another set of shackles, this time to my arm stumps. This chain was even
shorter, just a few inches. Then he stood up and kicked my body so hard
it rolled over several times.

'Back doing laps, you dickless bitch! A hundred laps, head bowed lower!'
The other prisoners were on their thirty-second lap but I had to start
all over again. My arm stumps were so tightly shackled I had to hop
forward like a rabbit instead of scuttling on all fours like before. It
was horribly exhausting, much to the enjoyment of the Officers. 'Faster,
maggot! Head down lower!' They picked up rocks from the side of the
courtyard and threw them at me for fun. Everytime a rock hit me it struck
up a big wound and knocked me over, so I had to get up again.

Sometime in the late morning I had done all hundred laps. I was ordered
to stand at attention, together with the other prisoners who had long
since finished their punishment. We stood still in the middle of the
courtyard while the sun scorched our beaten skin. Noon and afternoon
passed and our bodies were trembling from exhaustion and the heat under
the relentless sun. One muscular Officer in a blue patrol uniform passed
us and watched our agony with a smile. He was carrying a large blue gym
bag on his shoulder. 'You thirsty, girls?' he said. Our heads still
bowed, we answered him: 'Sir, yes, Sir...' our voices cracking in the
heat. The Officer put down his gym bag, opened it and took out a pair of
big black hightop sneakers. He stood in front of us and turned the
hightops upside down, and a trickle of sweat began pouring out of the
enormous gym shoes and onto the asphalt before our faces. 'You can eat
that off the ground if you wanna survive,' he said. Then he put his
workout sneakers back in the gym bag and watched us lick the sweat off
the ground like pigs. He snickered to himself, then took his police gym
bag and left us in the sun.

Late in the evening we were taken off the courtyard and into a prison
building. The Officer who held me by the leash had laughed out loud when
he saw the shackles and the twigs sticking out from my behind, and had
left them like that. It was a young, round faced man with brown hair and
stubble on his cheeks. He wore dark blue uniform pants with light blue
stripes along the sides and regular leather patrol shoes on his wide
feet. 'I need my boots cleaned,' he said, casually. 'Move!'

I was dragged through a corridor and told to wait outside a door. When
the Officer went inside I caught a glimpse of a locker room with hundreds
of pairs of uniforms, riot gear, boots and guns. He came back out with a
pair of black leather motorcycle patrol boots, muddy all over.

There was a row of small cells in the other end of the building. The
Officer grabbed one of the rough brown sacks hanging on the wall. He
lifted me up and stuffed me inside with only my head left outside. Then
he strapped three wide leather straps around my throat and fastened them
tightly with three different padlocks. Now I was just a little bundle on
the floor. He gave me a violent kick and I flew inside one of the cells
and hit the wall. Then he took out a soft blue pillow with a Police logo
on it and placed it in the little cell in front of me. He put his size 14
EEE Police Motorcycle boots carefully on the soft pillow before my face.
Then he threw in a small Q-tip and slammed the door shut.

'You've got the tools, now start cleaning my boots, worm! Don't touch the
leather with your dirty mouth!' He lit a cigar and walked away, leaving
me to work on his boots. I squirmed forward and managed to fetch the Q-
tip off the ground with my lips. Holding it nervously in my mouth, I
began to carefully polish the leather of the Officer's size 14 boots. The
cell reeked of leather and foot sweat from the well-worn boots. I had to
twist my neck in impossible ways to clean the leather creases where the
Police boots had formed after the Officer's big feet. The enormous
leather boots completely dominated the whole cell, and I felt really
small in their presence. Even my shackled stumps were useless now that I
was strapped inside a sack. My body ached and I sobbed silently, but I
continued to obediently shine the Patrol boots that rested comfortably on
the pillow.

The next morning I had just managed to clean the boots when the Officer
returned. He inspected the boots thoroughly for any signs of dust or mud,
and made sure he could see his face perfectly reflected in the black
leather. 'I won't shoot you, pig, but you'll have to do better next
time!' he said. Then he dragged me out of the cell, put his foot on my
head while unlocking the padlocks, and yanked me out of the sack and onto
the concrete floor. I was forced outside and kicked up against the wall.
'On your leg stumps! Stand up, pussy boy!' He made me hold my arm stumps
out and placed the pillow on them, then put the newly cleaned Police
boots on the pillow. 'I'll be wanting these tonight. Until then you'll
hold them completely still on your little disgusting stumps. Don't even
blink, shithead!' He watched me for a moment, then took his whip and
swatted my face fifteen or twenty times. 'Lower your head in the presence
of my boots, pig!'

When I was in the right position he left, and I was wailing quietly in
fear of dropping the boots. My arm stumps trembled under the heavy weight
of the leather boots and I wasn't sure I could stand like this until
evening! Other Officers passed me and smiled at my predicament. 'You've
found your place, boot stool!' they joked. One of them poked me with his
big foot to see if I would fall over, but I managed to remain standing
with the boots balanced upright. Beads of sweat were running down my
bruised face as the hours slowly ticked away.

After many more hours and countless near-collapses the Officer returned
and grabbed his boots. He dragged me inside, behind him on the leash, to
a rec room with some magazines, a fridge and a few comfortable chairs. He
eased his muscular body into one of the chairs, kicked off his patrol
shoes, and slowly pulled the motorcycle boots onto his feet. 'Inmate, at
my front! Hold the pillow up!' he ordered. I sat on my back stumps and
held the soft pillow on my outstretched limbs in front of the seated
Officer. He lifted his muscular legs and put his big size 14 EEE feet up
on the pillow one by one in front of my face. 'If you move, you die!' was
all he said. Then he picked up a SWAT magazine and opened a beer and
relaxed.

With clenched teeth, I struggled to hold still. The Officer's enormous
feet completely blocked my vision and I heard the leather in his boots
creak as he moved his toes a little inside. Sometimes he shifted his
legs, nearly kicking me to the ground in the process. But I managed
somehow to remain in the ordered position and obediently function as a
footstool for the Policeman. After about an hour he had finished his beer
and put the magazine aside. Instead, he took up a remote control and
turned on the TV, relaxing even more in the comfortable chair. A few
other Officers came into the room and they talked to each other for a
while as if I wasn't even there.

After another hour and a half, the Officer took his big feet off me and
stood up. 'Neck under my heel!' he ordered and I squirmed in place under
his foot. He put his boot down, choking me, while attaching the leash to
the collar again. He took his foot off me and kicked me in the face.
'Move, you swine! To the cages!' He continued to kick me in front of him
with full force until the leash was tightly stretched and my throat was
punctured by the spikes in the collar. Still shackled, I wobbled forward
as fast as I could and he led me through the camp back down to the cages.
Some cages had prisoners collapsed inside of them and he kicked me into
one of the empty ones. The cage door was closed and the barbed wire once
again ripped at my face as my body contorted to fit in the small space. I
fell asleep within ten seconds.

The next day a bunch of us were dragged off by a group of Officers
wearing beige Highway Patrol uniforms. They herded us towards the
Officers' quarters and we all trembled in fear at the sight of the
imposing building. 'Don't worry, pigs, you won't set your dirty stumps
inside our quarters!'

They took us around back and down a set of stairs to the basement. Deep
inside, under the building, we stopped. 'Time for toilet duty,' they
said, then each Officer lifted us easily by the collar. I was dangling
helplessly, a mere worm in front of the massive Policeman who held me in
his gloved hand. There were meat hooks fixed at mid-heigth on the wall
and the Officers carried us over there and hung us there, the steel ring
on the back of the collar fitting perfectly on the hook.

The Officers grabbed some thick rubber tubes that came down from the
ceiling and made us open our mouths. 'You still got your teeth, maggot?'
an Officer asked me, then took out his nightstick and punched me in the
face with it. He struck me again and again. My face was just a mangled
mess.

'Don't drip on the floor, pig. Swallow your teeth. You won't need them!'
I tried to obey, and then he took the three inch thick rubber tube and
jammed it down my throat. I could hardly breathe! The tube filled my
mouth and throat completely. The Officers laughed at our red faces. 'Each
tube is connected to four Officers' toilets and one Guardroom urinal.
These are our private toilets so you're getting some exclusive shit.
Remember that, you worms!'

They all took out their nightsticks and tightened their gloves. 'You'll
be glad to eat the shit of Real Men. Anyone vomits or tries to spit it
out and you die. Got it?!' Then they hit us with full force on the sides,
in our ribs, and on the leg stumps with their nightsticks. My shackle
chains rattled as my body swung back and forth by the Officer's powerful
blows. The light gleamed on the Police patch of his bulging, powerful arm
as he lifted the nightstick over and over again and hit my helpless body.
Eventually they stopped and put their nightsticks back in their belts. On
the wall next to the steel exit door was a red switch, and one of the
Policemen pressed it with his gloved hand as he passed.

Suddenly the locks opened and all the stored urine and shit came rushing
through the tubes with full force. I thought my body would explode as a
flood of old piss forced its way down my throat. Then I felt a thick mass
of turds forcing themselves into my mouth. Big, heavy logs of shit
pressed themselves down my throat and I nearly choked. There was shit
coming out of my nose, and I thought some came out through my eyes as
well. I tried to bend my head up so that the vile brown mass would drip
back into my mouth, because who knew what they'd do if I soiled the
floor?

After half an hour or so the first attack had died down a little. But not
for more than a minute. Then came about twenty heavy, solid turds through
my tube and nearly blew my head off! I felt the shit pressing into every
cavity of my skull and there were big chunks of it pouring out of my
nose. I twitched helplessly and feebly attempted again not to let
anything fall on the ground. My stomach had previously been totally
empty. Now it was swelling up like a balloon. No sooner had I swallowed
all the shit than there was another rush through the pipe. This time
mostly piss, but there were several cigar butts and something that
scraped my throat, perhaps toenail clippings. Then came about thirty even
bigger turds, violently forcing themselves into my mouth. I swallowed
obediently.

The next morning the Officers returned. They didn't switch off the pipes
but watched us struggle with the shit for a few minutes. 'This shackled
one has some wet spots under it on the floor,' one of them said. 'The
other two are clean - we'll take them up.' The other prisoners were taken
out of the room, but I was left hanging. 'You don't like our shit, do
you?' the Policeman said, broad-legged in front of me with his gloved
hand fingering his gun. 'You're full of shit, and I'm gonna make sure it
stays that way!' He walked closer to me, inspecting my puny body. 'Is
that shit coming out of your eyes?' he asked. Then he shook his head with
a smile.

From his belt he unhooked a small black device. 'See this? It's an
amazing portable sewing machine. Now let's seal you up, swine!' He pulled
the tube out of my mouth and ordered me to press my lips together. Then
he put the machine to my face and let the needle work its way through my
flesh, slowly but steadily. I wanted to scream, but my lips were already
sealed. After about a minute my lips were sewn together with two layers
of extra strong thread. 'Now your eyes. Hold still, prisoner!' I tried to
scream, but there was nothing I could do. The needle punctured my eyelid
again and again as it tightly sealed my eye shut with double stitching.
Then he moved to the other eye, and within a minute I was both blind and
mute. I had nothing between my legs anymore and there was a thick branch
stuck up my behind, so my nose was the only hole left.

I was breathing hard through my nostrils. I heard him take out his whip,
and then he gave me a few hard lashes across the face, drawing deep
wounds in my flesh. 'Good. Looks like the thread holds up.' Then he took
out a smaller tube and attached it to the one in the ceiling. He inserted
it into my nose, nearly cutting my air off totally! I heard his boots on
the floor, and then his gloved hand pressed the red button again. 'Have
fun, pig. Try not to suffocate!' He chuckled and strolled up the stairs.
Meanwhile, the turds were pressing through the thinner tube and into my
nose! I was totally helpless and had to swallow every piece of shit
before I could breathe again! Whenever an Officer went to the toilet, I
was begging that he hadn't eaten too much or the shit would choke me and
I would die!

Many hours later I heard boots again and the Officer's laughter. 'You fat
pig - look at you all swollen!' He pulled the tube out of my nose and
then took out his nightstick and started beating my bloated body. 'You
don't feel a thing, do you, maggot?' he asked. But the pain was horrible!
After a dozen more blows he lifted me off the hook and dropped me on the
concrete floor at his boots. I was totally disoriented and my swollen
belly even more restricted my movements. The leash was fastened to my
collar once more and he pulled me with him through the corridor and
upstairs.

Back in the courtyard he kicked me hard in the rear and snapped off the
leash. 'Time to work off some of that fat belly, gimp!' I was ordered to
run laps again. 'Two hundred laps, cripple!' He kicked me again in the
ribs and I hopped away on my stumps, blind, mute and helpless. 'Faster
gimp!' the Officer ordered. I obeyed him, moving my limbs as fast as I
could. After about a minute I felt a sharp pain in my head and fell over.
I had run into the prison wall, blind that I was. The Officer laughed.
'Guess it's gonna be a painful two hundred, worm!' I had to get up on my
stumps again and continue along the new wall at full speed until I
crashed into the next one. 'Mmmmph,' I sobbed. My tightly sewed lips let
nothing through.

The next morning I was a bloody, near dead mess. My belly was just as big
as before since everything was sealed up on me except my nose, and just a
few trickles of shit had managed to come out that way. Just when I had
finished the last lap, the Officer came back for me with a group of his
Police colleagues. They wore their steel capped boots and leather riot
shin guards for protection, comfortably strapped on their muscular legs.
'Heel, maggot! Time to kick some sense into you!' The Officer snapped his
fingers and I moved towards his voice. When I came close he lifted his
boot and kicked me with full force on my shoulder. I flew several yards
and rolled over a couple of times.

The other Officers had spread out in the courtyard. Now from the exact
opposite side, another Officer ordered 'Heel!' I got up on my stumps and
squirmed towards his boots and when I was close enough he raised his foot
and planted it with full force on top of my head, crushing me into the
asphalt. I vomited, but nothing came out since my lips were sewn shut and
I had to swallow it all again. Another Officer barked 'Heel!' and snapped
his fingers. I wobbled over there and received a hard kick to my ribs
again. 'Heel!' I rose to my stumps and obeyed the next order. This time
the Officer managed a perfect hit with his steel toed boot right in the
middle of my face, crushing my nose and breaking my jaw. The other
Officers applauded him and then the punishment continued.

The ring of Officers got tighter and tighter until I was lying on the
ground right in the middle. Now they were just kicking me violently
wherever they could. Still kicking me, they took out their nightsticks,
and a few of them their cattle prods, and began using those too on my
body. I was caught helpless in the middle, forced to endure the violent
beating and unable to shield myself with my bruised stumps. After nearly
an hour, they planted the last boot sole in my face and pushed me away
from them.

'Up on your stumps, piggie' the Officer ordered. Somehow I managed to
obey.

'Stand at attention!' he said. I stood as still as I had learned with my
head bowed obediently. I heard his big boots coming closer and then
stopping, right at my face. He raised one muscular leg and planted the
boot on my bruised back, using me as a footrest. Then he took out a cigar
from one of the leather pockets on his belt and lit it with a few puffs
of smoke. 'Next time, maybe you'll learn not to spill any Police shit,
retard!' he told me. I cried silently, and no tears escaped through my
sewn up eyelids. He let the cigar ashes fall into the deep bloody cuts on
my body and watched to make sure I stood still at attention as ordered.
After about fifteen minutes, he had nearly smoked the entire cigar.

'Raise your head, turd!' He took the still smoking cigar butt with his
gloved hand and slowly inserted it into my right nostril, the glowing end
first. Then he took his boot off my back and wiped his gloves, and his
bootsteps faded as he left me standing there.

I was no longer a human. Inmate S9873C98ZXDF87-987SX stood obediently as
it had been ordered, its thoughts and mind clouded and its body
remodeled. Suddenly a size 16 EEE leather Police boot stomped me to the
ground and held me there. A muscular Officer with a leather Police jacket
and padded Police gauntlets looked down on me. 'No slacking off, worm!'
he barked. He planted both size 16 Patrol boots on my back and his full
290-pound muscular frame pinned me to the dirt.

'First week playtime is over, maggot! Now we're getting serious!' His
right boot cushed my head against the ground and his left one was planted
on my back. 'Time to go to the gym, but I need to get my gear bag first.
Giddyup!' He slashed my sides with his horsewhip and choked me with the
leash in his other gloved hand.

And as the second week of my life sentence started, I began squirming
over the pavement like the worm I was, the beefy Officer on my back and a
life of torment ahead of me. All of it to be spent in Camp 177.

Gay saddles

I'm bisexual and yesterday a gay friend who I’d met on ‘Swinging Heaven’
phoned me to say he wanted to meet. The only time I could make it was
after I'd ridden my horse just after lunch. So he came to see me at my
stables. My partner was away for the day so I had the stables to myself.
We live at the end of a mile long single track road so it's very
secluded.

I'd just finished schooling and was dressed in my tight white Pikeur
dressage breeches white socks and long leather Cavallo boots my cock was
outlined in the tight fabric and I was feeling very randy. It had been a
very warm day and I was soaked with sweat my socks were absolutely sodden
and my feet were covered in sweat. My cock was encased in a tight G-
string and was wet. I heard his car approaching and had just untacked my
mare. I walked towards my tack room with my saddle and bridle to hang up
just then Roy came through the stables and saw me.

'Hi' he said
'You look hot - in more ways than one!'
'I am, how are you Roy?' I said.
'I'm fine thanks, but very horny you fancy some action?'

I immediately said yes and we went into the tack room. My tack room is
quite large, and for security has no windows, and in the centre is a
wooden table big enough to lay out tack to clean.
My feet were still wet through and I could feel my sweaty socks.

'Suck my cock' Roy shouted as he unzipped himself.

His long (10" cock) fell out of his trousers and I knelt down and took
his soft cock in my mouth and began sucking on him. He began to grow in
my mouth and he started to moan. In little more than thirty seconds his
cock blew a load of hot cum down my throat. I carried on sucking him till
he was finished and withdrew his cock from my mouth.
He started to unbuckle my belt and lowered my breeches down over my arse.
Slowly he rimmed me and I could feel his tongue probing my arsehole. From
somewhere he produced a tube of KY and lubed my arse with it. 'Suck me
hard again' he shouted, I hobbled round and knelt down and began to lick
his knob and took it back in my mouth his cock was salty and I just loved
the taste.

His cock began to grow in size and I could feel it's big vein throbbing.
He pulled away from me and pushed me face forward over the table. I could
feel his breath on my neck and his finger was probing my arse hole. One
finger then two then three up me and feeling for my prostate, - he found
it and began to massage my gland I could feel my cock twitching and
spasming I thought I was going to cum there and then but then he stopped
and withdrew his fingers. He replaced then with the end of his huge cock
I could feel it probing my arse and suddenly it passed my sphincter and
he was inside me. Slowly he pushed in an inch then withdrew again then
two inches and so on until I could feel his large pendulous balls
slapping against my arse 'Fuck me' I shouted and he began to thrust in
and out of me. God he was big I felt really stretched, and although we'd
fucked before I never got over how my tight arse could take all of his
cock. Roy lasted much longer this time because I'd given him a blowjob
and it was ten minutes before I could feel him tense and he shot his load
up me. He collapsed across my back and his cock shrunk and fell out of my
now loose and gaping arse. I pulled my G-string up and my breeches and
did up my belt. I started to walk away but I could feel his cum leaking
out of my arse and staining my riding breeches. 'I'll have to get these
off Roy' I said. 'OK I'll pull off your boots for you' Roy panted.’ Turn
round so I can stick my boot between your legs Roy' I said. He turned and
spread his legs I pushed my booted leg between his and with my other boot
pushed him away. Slowly my leather boot pulled off to reveal a sodden
sock wet with cold sweat. I did the same for the other boot and then
peeled of my wet socks. 'I've got to lick your wet feet' Roy said. 'OK go
ahead' I said and sat on the edge of the table. He licked both my feet
‘till they were nice and clean. By now I was hard again and it was my
turn to have some fun. Roy took my cock into his mouth and deep throated
me for 5 minutes, but before I shot my load he stopped turned round
dropped his trousers to reveal a shaved arse with no knickers on. ‘I’ve
come prepared’ e said and with that bent over and showed me his hairless
ring. I didn’t wait and lunged at his arsehole with my boner. He was well
used to being fucked and he just relaxed his hole I slid in upto my
balls, he started to clench his muscles and I could feel him milking my
cock. I thought I’m not going to last long here and within ten strokes I
shot my load.

Losing My Manhood

My name is Carl, and I am a 21-year old junior at Dartmouth.  This is my
third year as a member of the equestrian team.  I joined the team in
order to wear breeches and boots regularly and to get dressed up for
horse shows.  I also joined up in order to check out the females on the
team.  The team was all women except for me.  One would think that I
dated everybody on the team and got laid all the time.  That was not the
case.  My teammates looked at me as another girl, but in a man's body.
They laughed at me for dressing well for lessons and for dressing up
really well for horse shows.  I enjoyed dressing up for riding.  I
thought that they would be impressed.  Even though they mocked me,
whether it was behind my back or to my face, I did not care.  Every
evening after riding I would masturbate multiple times.  I dreamed of
wearing equestrian attire, and if I could not, I would not bother to ride
for the equestrian team.  I felt so privileged to partake in English
riding.  It is such an elegant sport, and the clothes are so magnificent.

A ramble on my childhood.  My real name is Carlos, and I moved to the US
from Argentina when I was 14.  We moved to Connecticut.  My family was
wealthy in Argentina, but we were bottom of the barrel in Darien.  I got
a job as a stable boy at the local private equestrian club.  I got to see
all the pretty popular girls (blue eyed blondes) from my high school
there.  They would ride there, have lessons there, and were also there
for local horse shows.  They treated me like crap and totally looked down
on me.  But I enjoyed the job and went home with a hard on and jerked off
every evening after work.  I was not popular at school.  I was a
foreigner with an accent.  The popular guys would push me around in the
hallways and in the locker room.  At the riding club, their girlfriends
would treat me like crap.  They would whip my rear end with their riding
crops.  They would make me polish their boots while wearing them.  I got
nowhere with these girls obviously.  I could not even kiss their booted
feet.  The only action I got was that I got involved with a fat girl
named Melanie (the only non-gorgeous girl at the club) at the club.  She
was so undesirable that guys would reject her offers to give blowjobs.
It was a shame because she had a very pretty face.  We eventually got
involved.  Of course I always went down on her, but I never received oral
pleasure  While other guys got blowjobs all the time, I always performed
cunnilingus for Melanie.  When news of our relationship details got out,
this got me further ridicule at school.

Moving on to college, I got nowhere with girls on the equestrian team.
They were just like the girls at the club in Darien, except smarter.  My
relationships were one night stands with mediocre looking students.  Now
it is Spring semester at Dartmouth.  I am staying on campus for the
summer.  I rode the last fall, and I am riding this Spring.  A few of us
stuck around for the semester.  It was a warm May Saturday afternoon.  I
finished my ride and tacked up the horse.  My teammates and I got dressed
up and went trail riding.  It was our makeshift hunt.  They left promptly
after the ride because they had to do women stuff at the salon.  I was
wearing a dressage outfit (the black riding coat was a waistcoat).  I
also wore a silk ascot around my neck and my dressage boots had high
tops, meaning that the front had a leather flap that stood upright and
covered my kneecaps.  As I walked out of the stall, Scott walked into the
stable.  He wanted to see if Dana was around.  Scott and Dana
(prototypical blonde in a Ralph Lauren ad) dated for three years and
recently broke up.  They were still friends, and surprisingly ended their
relationship amicably.  Scott had the prototypical look of a Ralph Lauren
model.  He is really good-looking.  He spoke briefly and suddenly he
said, "Give me a blowjob."  I said, "What?"  He said, "I am hard.  Get
down and suck me.  I have not gotten any action in a month."  Scott and
Dana broke up six weeks ago.  I said, "No way.  I am not gay."  He
grabbed my arms hard and said, "Get down, I am not going to ask again."
I told him to walk with me and that I needed to take a few steps back.  I
needed to sit on a stack of hay.  I could not bend my legs in these tall
custom dressage boots.  I told Scott to give me a couple of minutes to
get a hold of myself, and that I would.  He said okay.  So many thoughts
were racing in my mind.  I was straight, but I had gay fantasies.  I
always fantasized about giving another guy a blowjob.  In the beginning I
fantasized about receiving anal sex.  I was so mesmerized by the sight of
a cock in porno movies and pictures.  I thought it was the lowest thing
for a man to do - suck off another man.  But at the same time I ws so
jealous of women blowing guys.  Scott finally said, "Come on!"  I
unbuckled his belt and pulled down his jeans.  He was wearing skimpy
black cotton underwear, similar in style to mens' Speedo shorts.  I
kissed his cloth-covered cock for a minute.  Then I pulled down his
underwear and out popped his erect eight-inch dick.  It was straight
forward and pointing up at a 45 degree angle.  What a sculpted and
chiseled dick.  I admired it for a few seconds and kissed the head
briefly.  I was feeling awkward and nervous.  This was my first time.
Was this how all these teenage girls felt their first time?  I was afraid
to open my mouth.  Finally my mind pushed my mouth open.  I took in a
mouthful of Scott's erect dick.  I could not take in more than five
inches in my mouth.  I pulled my mouth back while keeping my lips tightly
around his cock.  My teeth did not touch.  I applied what I received and
expected when women in college blew me.  I moved back forward with my
mouth.  This continued for ten minutes.  I tickled his scrotum with my
left hand fingers and then extensively felt his frenulum.  I tried to
stroke the untouched part of his cock with my right hand fingers.  I was
doing the best I can.  I was applying all that I liked when women blew
me.  I did not receive a lot of blowjobs, but I knew enough of what I
wanted and liked.  I assumed Scott was the same.  Finally Scott shot his
load in my mouth.  M mouth was full of his cum.  It tasted salty.  TO
describe it, cum is a bunch of white goo with a salty taste.  It did not
taste bac, just a bit salty.  I did not feel like swallowing.  Scott
said, "Come on, pretty boy, swallow it."  He pushed down on the top of my
head.  I finally gulped ans swallowed his load.  He told me to keep
licking his penis and to lick up any residue cum.  I did and swallowed
that too.  Scott said I was pretty good for a first time.  He also said
that I went down pretty easily.  I thought it was borderline date rape,
but I actually enjoyed the experience.  I am glad he was aggressive.  I
never would have seen myself in such a situation.  I thought this
scenario was only a fantasy in my mind when I lay in bed.  I never
expected it to happen.  I was actually glas that I was slightly forced
because this saves some sense of heterosexuality.  This act throws in
doubt my manhood and sexuality.  I guess I am a pretty boy cocksucking
wuss of a man.  Maybe partaking in a feminine sport/activity and enjoying
dressing up accordingly pushed my sexuality and enjoyment to the
"opposite side of the fence".  The tight breeches (and wearing skimpy
briefs underenath) is kind of gay.  I felt so content and satisfied.  I
really enjoyed giving.  It reminded me of my ex-girlfriend Melanie.
Instead of muffdiving, now it is sucking cock.  After every riding
practice or lesson, it seemed as if I was the last one to leave.  Scott
would show up and I wound get down and suck him.  I got better at
sucking.  I can now deep throat him.  I also leaned to master the gag
reflex.  He enjoyed my blowjobs.  Scott said I was better than any of the
girls he dated.  My mouth was bigger, I was more eager to go down deeper,
and I was able to handle him being rough.  We also talked after the one-
sided sexual encounters.  We were friends, but I was his friend with
benefits.  Now it was early August on a Saturday morning, and I was about
to ride.  I was the only one there.  Scott showed up; usually he came in
the afternoons or evenings.  This time after I blew him, he told me to
turn around and bend over a stack of hay.  I had on the same outfit as my
first blowjob day, but I also wore a yellow vest under my black riding
waistcoat.  I unbuckled my belt and started to pull down my breeches.
Scott took over and pulled them down to my knees.  He took out a lotion
bottle and poured it into one of his hands.  Then I felt a slap on m
right but cheek.  Something warm and wet was now on my right but cheek.
I was wearing a white cotton thong under my breeches.  Scott did the same
thing to my left cheek.  I moaned loudly after each of the first two
slaps.  I thought I came in my thong.  He slapped some more lotion on
each cheek.  Then he caressed both cheeks with his hands.  Then he kept
slapping my right cheek until I felt like it burned.  He did the same to
my left cheek.  He took out a tube of K Y jelly and poured it into his
left hand.  He used his right fingers to dab some of this KY lube and
applied it to my frenulum and anus area.  My rear end and anus was clean.
I had a bikini wax three months ago, and I used the bathroon and took a
shower just before coming to the stable.  Scott now probed my anus with
his two fingers covered with KY.  I had a sudden cold sensation in my
rectum.  He felt around for the male G spot in the rectum.  Then he
throust his fully erect manhood into my anus.  I felt a sharp pain.  I
thought my anus was ripped wide open.  I thought I was bleeding like a
sink faucet.  He kept on penetrating deeper and deeper.  Now Scott had a
rhytym.  He put all 8 inches into my anal canal, and pulled out but left
his dick head still inside me.  He thrust forward and pulled back.  This
in and out rhytym continued for a half hour.  Finally Scott shot his load
into my anal canal.  He slapped me on the but, pulled up his briefs and
pants, and left.  I was so sore.  It was exhilirating, but I felt like my
anus was ripped apart and was bleeding.  I just lay there on the stack of
hay for a half hour.  I did not care if anybody walked in.  Luckily
nobody walked into the stable this morning.  Finally I pulled up my thong
and breeches ans walked home.  I walked funny, and I hope nobody saw me.
I could not get on a horse today.  I felt as if a dam broke n my mind.
The next three encounters Scott anally penetrated me after I blew him.
After the fourth anal encounter, I realized that I like anal sex, but I
can live without it.  It went back to the routine of cock sucking.  Scott
never offered to blow me, and I did not want him to either.  I want only
a woman to blow me, but I also love to suck off a guy.  I only want to
penetrate a woman anally (and of course vaginally).

Now I began my Senior year at Darmouth.  Scott got a job in New York and
would leave.  He told me that it was over, and we could still be friends.
It was easy for him to say.  I was so attached.  I said sobbing, "How can
you say that?  I am so attached to you.  You took my manhood.  I sucked
you all the time.  I swallowed the load, and sometimes it tasted
disgusting.  Don't you have any appreciation?"  He told me to get over
it.  He said that I sounded like a girl.  I acted effeminately and wore
tight clothing and resembles a girl, and that is why he went after me for
sex.  I was another sex object, except that I was a man.  He said it was
okay for him to do what he did because he was the dominant one.  because
I was the giver, I was the wuss, the faggot, the real gay.  He thought I
was becoming like a girl and getting all emotional, and he wanted to end
it right there and then.  Scott did the ultimate disrespect to me by
telling all the girls on the team about our summer sexual encounters.
All the girls looked down on me.  They mocked me.  They said what I did
was sick and so low that is was unconscionable.  They called me flame
boy, suck boy, and other names.  Rachel, a senior, told everybody that I
was the stereotypical gay.  Good-looking, well-dressed and had to be gay.
Based on my summer encounter, it was true n their minds.  I enjoyed my
time with Scott, but I did not want a relationship with him.  I agree
that I was attached because I lost my manhood to him.  I like and love
women.  I can have sex, friendship, love, relationship with women.  I
guess when it comes to sex, I am bi (gay in their book).  Ironically Dana
started talking to me.  Eventually we became good friends, and the rest
of the team left me alone.  Dana was a senior, the team captain, and
everybody liked and respected her.  She told me that Scott said many good
things about me.  He was just an asshole in breaking it off with me
because he was a typical insecure guy who wanted to go back to hanging
out with his fraternity brothers.  Dana thought I was really good to
Scott, I filled a void in his life after she broke up with him.  Dana
told me that I treated Scott the same way that she treated him.  He could
not be appreciative and stick with one person for a long time.  Now it
was the first Saturday of October.  We ere n Vermont for a horse show.  
After the show Dana and I went for a walk on one of the riding trails.
We were both dressed in dressage attire.  She  had on the normal Konigs
dressage boots.  Otherwise we were dressed alike.  We held hands the
whole walk and stopped in front of a tall maple tree.  We looked at each
other.  I moved my face forward and kissed her on the lips.  Dana kissed
back, and we kissed for several minutes using a lot of tongue.  We are
now a couple.

I do not regret my summer encounter.  I explored another sexual world,
and became more of a man for it.  I will not  get involved with another
guy again.  My sex and romantic life has now come full circle.  Dana is
my dream girl, the type of girl that I always dreamed of.

Special Training By Hibooted

The day had gone by amazingly fast and now Dan was in the station tack
room polishing his saddle and reflecting on his first day of rookie
duty. Luck was with him - he had drawn park patrol duty that allowed him
to enjoy his love of riding and to wear the tight sexy gear associated
with it. With what seemed an even greater stroke of luck Dan was
assigned to Sergeant Mark Anderson's patrol with Mark as his training
officer. Mark had been his mentor since their first meeting at the Youth
Equestrian program and had even sponsored him for the Academy, knowing
fully that Dan was gay.

Dan's uniform was new and perfectly tailored. The breeches were dark
blue - almost black lycra blend with light blue stripes down the legs,
they seemed to form perfectly to his long slim legs above the high
shafts of the gleaming custom made black riding boots encasing his feet
and lower legs to the knees. Emulating Mark, Dan wore nothing under his
breeches and felt the lycra pressing against his tight buns and forming
over his partially erect cock. The smell of leather in the tack room was
strong and was exciting Dan, his cock was growing harder by the second
and pressing into the tight lycra of the breeches. His uniform shirt was
tailored skintight, cut short and held inside the waist of his breeches
with Velcro tabs, its sleeves ended at a pair of short, ultra-tight,
tissue thin black leather gloves. Ever since meeting Mark Dan had been
turned on by the uniforms worn by the park patrol and now he was wearing
one.

Dan began to pant softly as he held a soft cloth in his gloved hand and
worked leather dressing into his saddle. No longer able to ignore the
demands of his growing cock Dan dropped the cloth onto the saddle and
slipped a gloved hand between his wide spread booted legs. Dan's
erection throbbed at the touch of his tightly gloved fingers through the
lycra of his breeches. Dan began to rub myself. First with just his
fingers, then with a gloved hand, finally his other gloved hand dropped
and he began to rub and squeeze his nuts as well as his rigid shaft. The
soft panting turned to moans and Dan began to work his crotch back and
fourth - humping against his leathered hands fantasizing that he was
pushing his rigid cock against the bulging crotch of Mark's tight riding
breeches.

The click of the latch of the tack room door jolted Dan from his
masturbatory fantasy. He quickly picked up the cloth and resumed
polishing his saddle. The door creaked and then the latch clicked,
solidly this time as the dead bolt rammed into place. The click of metal
plated boot heels echoed through the tack room growing louder as they
approached Dan. The boot steps stopped a few feet behind Dan. "Well,
young hero did you bust any bad guys today?" It was Mark!

"No--only chased a couple of kids out of the duck pond. Not real
exciting." The boot heels again clicked and now Mark was directly behind
Dan. "I guess we need to find something else to do for excitement around
here!"

A gloved hand slipped onto Dan's tight round ass. "Maybe a little hands
on personal training!" A second hand now gripped Dan's buns. He couldn't
believe what was happening. Mark was coming on to him!

Dan responded, "Sounds real good to me I can always use extra training."
He felt the hands slide up to his hips and draw him backwards until
Mark's erect cock was bushing between his lycra clad buns.

"Why don't we start with teaching you how to use that tight ass to make
your training officer very happy!"

Dan moaned in approval, pushing himself against Mark--he had wanted this
from the first instant he had laid eyes on Mark and now it was
happening. Mark's lips touched Dan's neck kissing him softly while
tightly gloved hands slipped around onto the stiff rod inside his tight
breeches and began to fondle and rub it. "Yes! Oh Yeahhhh!" Dan began to
writhe and squirm against the hands caressing his hardness and tear at
the buttons of his shirt.

Mark's lips moved onto the side of Dan's neck and then his tongue began
to flick along Dan's jaw line. Dan could hear Mark's gasps - he was as
turned on as Dan! Turning his head Dan pressed his open mouth against
Mark's. Lips and tongues touched, probing and tasting each other. Mark
urged Dan to turn and face him with pressure against his hips. Now
facing each other they kissed again, this time writhing and thrusting
their bulging lycra clad crotches together.

Mark stepped back slightly and grasped Dan's gloved hand in his, drawing
it down and onto the precum wet outline of his swollen manhood. Dan
began to stroke Mark through the thin lycra--rubbing his leather encased
hands over the slick wetness of Mark's excitement. Mark bent and began
to kiss and lick Dan's throat, then continued moving down onto his pecs
sucking and licking Dan's excited nipples. Dan was groaning almost out
of control and Mark dropped lower until his mouth found Dan's navel and
then his hard, smooth belly just above his breeches.

"Do you want more?" Mark gasped, placing his gloved hand on Dan's zipper
and tugging it down. "Do you want me to suck your cock?"

"Yes! Oh Fuck! Yes!" Dan grasped Mark's head and drew it forward, "Eat
my fucking cock!" Mark's mouth slid onto the swollen head of Dan's rigid
member and he tasted thick salty precum as he began to suck.

Reaching to his own crotch Mark opened the zipper of his breeches
letting his stiff cock stand free of its lycra encumbrance. The glossy
black leather of Dan's boot shafts were inches from the drooling
cockhead. Mark grasped his hard cock and guided it onto a boot. The
lustrous leather felt cool and smooth on the slick sensitive skin of
Mark's precum oozing glans and instantly became glazed and wet. Mark
humped against Dan's gleaming boot rubbing his hardness over the leather
while he reached up to Dan's waist and tugged at his breeches.

The Velcro tabs holding Dan's shirt and breeches together made a ripping
sound as the two garments separated. Still sucking and licking Dan's
cock Mark pulled the tight, stretchy, calf length breeches down to Dan's
boot tops then tugged them out of the boots. At the same instant he
released Dan's cock and rose - grasping Dan's booted ankles in his
gloved hands and causing him to fall back to a semi-reclining position,
sideways, on his saddle with his back against the wall and his legs
sticking out. A quick tug and Dan's breeches were off and lying in a
heap on the floor.

"Raise your legs." Mark commanded. "Get those boot heels up here on my
shoulders." Dan raised his legs and Mark grasped his boots guiding them
up and onto his shoulders. Realizing that Mark was beginning to lick his
boots Dan reached to his cock and began to jack himself. He loved the
feeling of Mark's slick tongue sliding over the gleaming leather
encasing his legs and feet. Mark pushed down his breeches then pulled
them from his boot tops and stepped out of them. Now naked except for
his high boots, tight gauntlet length gloves and the wide leather
utility belt riding his hips Mark began to stroke his own rigid cock,
feeling its slickness through the thin leather of his tight gloves.

Mark began moving forward causing Dan's legs to rise higher as he licked
the heels and backs of his boots. The pressure on Dan's legs caused his
ass to thrust forward toward Mark's hard cock and he knew that soon he
would be filled with the hot throbbing prod being stroked to maximum
rigidity by Mark's gloved hand. Dan reached to the side and grasped the
saddle, steadying himself for Mark's thrust. One final step forward and
Mark's rod was at Dan's hole. "Yes!" Dan cried out, "Mount me! Fill me!"

Mark thrust his groin forward and the head of his cock penetrated Dan's
hole. Dan gasped, there was an instant of pain and then the feeling of
fullness as Mark pushed his slick swollen manhood into Dan's depths.
Mark felt a crushing tightness on his cock as his protégé clamped his
sphincter onto the intrusion and began to rotate his hips. Matching
Dan's rotation with his own thrusts, Mark worked himself deeper into the
younger cop's tight round ass. Dan's leather clad hands reached up to
Mark’s shoulders and drew him downward until their mouths were together.
They kissed, writhing in unison, letting their tongues dance and their
leathered hands move over each other’s taught smooth bodies.

"Oh yeah! Ride me! Ride me! Ride my hot butt!" Dan was groaning in near
climax as the pressure of Mark's hardness against his prostate made his
cock jerk and drool precum. Mark was also approaching orgasm, his ass
tightened, his nuts drew up and his panting gasps increased in
intensity.

Suddenly Mark drew back from Dan and stood with his booted legs spread
wide apart. His cock was twitching and dancing obviously at the edge of
ejaculation. Dan slid forward off of the saddle and stood facing Mark.
He was gasping and, like Mark, the erect cock between his booted legs
was throbbing with approaching climax. Their smooth bodies came
together; booted legs entwined, groins thrusting, leather-clad hands
feverishly moving over smooth, tensioned bodies. Hot wetness surged from
Dan's stiff cock drenching Mark's crotch. Mark cried out unintelligibly
and streams of jism spewed from his orgasmic jerking prod onto Dan's
balls and then began to trickle down his soft inner thighs.

Both stood writhing, yielding to the complete ecstasy of their climax,
letting their release spew over each other, smearing each other with
their steaming orgasmic juices. Then as the discharge began to stop Mark
gasped ‘clean me!’ and pushed Dan downward. Dan yielded and dropped to
his knees with his mouth at Mark's jism spattered crotch.

Gloved hands grasped Dan's head and drew him forward; his tongue flicked
out and onto Mark's smooth nuts lapping up the smeared juices of their
climax. The salty/bitter taste of cum and sweat filled Dan's mouth and
he licked eagerly as Mark guided him over every jizz-drenched crevice of
his crotch. By the time Mark indicated to Dan that he should lay back
his lips and face were glazed with cum. Dan dropped back onto his back
followed by Mark. Mark's open mouth touched Dan's lower lip and sucked
the smooth, soft, cum slick skin then his tongue traced the outline of
Dan's lips--probing into Dan's mouth tasking their ecstasy.

Both lay panting for a while then Mark managed to gasp, "You learn fast,
but I really think that more training is in order."

Dan responded, "I really think that we need to take the training to a
higher level!"

"Yeah." Mark agreed, "A bit of off duty evening tutoring is really going
to be necessary."

They looked at each other and smiled.

Equestrian Weekend . By Hibooted

 

Rob and I had been around each other all of our lives. All through high
school we shared classes and the same interests: horses, equestrian
competition and the high boots and glossy leather that went along with
it. I suppose that we each suspected that the other was gay for a long
time but we pretended to not notice. Which, for me, was extremely
difficult as I found Rob to be increasingly desirable. Especially when
he was wearing his tight riding breeches and long glossy black dressage
boots.

Now, in our second year of community college, we were both on the
varsity equestrian team and spent a lot of time at practice after school
at a local stable. With the rest of the team around I was only able to
admire Rob from a distance – watching him swing his long slim leather
booted leg over his saddle as he mounted, or perhaps helping him to
dismount and letting my gloved hand slip lightly over the smooth curve
of his beautiful firm butt. To my surprise Rob began to ride next to me
and when he dismounted his boot or gloved hand would occasionally graze
my leg or even my crotch – he was definitely sending signals.

At times I had to fight my desire to grab the bulging front of Rob’s
tight breeches and stroke him to climax. Almost every evening after
practice I would go home and strip to just my boots and gloves and
masturbate madly - fantasizing that Rob and I were making love clad in
black leather, kissing and stroking each other’s rigid cock until our
hot juices gushed into our gloved hands and over the glossy leather of
our high boots. But even in my wildest fantasies I had never thought
that Rob was at the same instant having the same thoughts about me.

Several weeks into the semester Rob suggested that we could get in some
extra practice on the weekend at his father’s riding stable. I couldn’t
believe what I was hearing! “What!” I stammered. “Let’s ride together
this weekend – you can even stay over Friday and Saturday night if you
like.” I agreed instantly.

“I stay in my own rooms off the tack room and you can bunk in with me
and share my clothes. That way we can get in all the riding we like.”
The kind of riding I would like was not done on horses and I was hoping
that Rob also had the same thing in mind. Well, I’d show up and find
out.

On Friday I showed up at practice carrying a boot bag with my best
dressage boots and a duffel with necessities for the weekend. I had worn
my practice boots, short black kid gloves, a very revealing pair of
stretch Lycra-denim breeches (without underwear) and a tight black polo
shirt that displayed my nipples through the thin material.

Rob showed up wearing a pair of glossy black over the knee custom riding
boots with tall chunky heels and hidden back zippers over skin-tight
black stretch breeches, a white dress shirt and very tight black gloves.
I could have fallen to my knees right in front of the team and the coach
and licked those beautiful boots from toe to top.

Rob rode the entire practice session wearing those magnificent boots and
I spent the entire session with a hard-on. As soon as practice was over
we jumped into Rob’s car and I pulled off my regular riding boots
exchanging them for my high, gleaming, black dressage boots. As we
headed towards his father’s place I thought that this could turn out to
be an incredible weekend or, if I was reading Rob’s signals wrong, a
disaster.

As we arrived, Rob’s father was in front of the stable with several
other men in tight black motorcycle leathers with bulging crotches and
long glossy boots. He greeted us and Rob introduced me to him; he then
wished us a great weekend and rode off for his own weekend with his
leathered, obviously gay, companions. Things were beginning to look up.
Rob and I would have the place to ourselves for the entire weekend. “You
know that my dad is gay!” Rob commented.

“Really” I teased, “then how did you get here?” “He didn’t come out
until after I was born.” I looked at Rob and then asked the question
that had been on my mind for some time: “Are you gay, too?” “Believe
it!” was his response. “Just like you.” Rob reached out with a gloved
hand and drew me forward. Our mouths touched just as I gasped, “Oh God!
Yes!”

We were standing out in the open kissing passionately, thrusting our
tongues into each other’s open mouth and sliding our leather clad hands
over each other feeling all of the places that we both had been desiring
for so long. “Let’s go inside” Rob panted as we broke our kiss, “I
really want you!”

I also wanted Rob; I wanted to stroke and suck the hard cock I had been
feeling through his tight breeches and kiss his smooth body and cum on
him and his high glossy boots. I picked up my boot bag and Rob grabbed
my duffel then slipped his gloved hand onto mine and led me inside. We
passed through the tack room on the way to Rob’s quarters and the strong
erotic scent of the leather almost overwhelmed me. Rob set down my
duffel and opened the door between his rooms and the tack room – we
stepped inside and, again, began to kiss and grope each other.

Groaning, we pulled at buckles and buttons and zippers opening and
pulling off our clothes. Stripping each other of everything but our
boots gloves and, now open, breeches. Falling onto the leather-covered
bed I stretched my glossy booted legs out to Rob. He tugged the stretchy
legs of my breeches out of my boot tops and then pulled the breeches
down from my waist and over my boots until they were lying inside out on
the floor. I could feel the soft cool leather of the bedspread against
my nakedness and my cock began to stand straight up.

Rob stood in front of me with his leather ringed cock stiffly protruding
from his open breeches; reaching down he grabbed the stretchy material
and pulled - the short legs came out of his boot tops, he pushed down,
the breeches came to rest around the glossy black leather of his booted
ankles and Rob stepped out of them. Next Rob slipped off his gloves and
reached into a dresser drawer bringing out a pair of tissue thin, black
kid, shoulder-length gloves. He looked directly at me as he worked the
long gloves onto his arms and hands, wiggling his fingers into the tight
leather until the gloves fit without the slightest hint of a wrinkle
below his wrists.

By now Rob had become even more excited and his swollen cockhead was
drooling thick strings of clear precum. I had already begun to jack
myself and my own precum was glazing my cockhead and shaft. “Open your
legs,” Rob groaned as he dropped to his knees on the bed. I raised my
booted legs and spread them wide apart, Rob leaned forward and I felt
the smooth leather of his gloved hands slide over my hardness and
groaned as he started to lightly stroke me. After a few moments of
fondling me Rob’s wet lips slid onto the head of my cock. “Unnn! Yesss!”
I managed to groan as he began to suck my stiff cock.

“Eat me,” Rob gasped as he raised his head from my cock for a breath.
“69 with me!” I mumbled an affirmative between gasping breaths and
slowly turned my body until my face was between Rob’s leather booted
legs and my mouth was at his smooth hairless balls. I began to softly
kiss Rob’s scrotum and drag my tongue over its smooth skin. Then my lips
found his shaft and I began to nibble lightly on it.

I felt gloved hands on the side of my head, “Suck me! Now!” Rob cried
and pulled my head upward until my lips slid over the precum slick head
of his cock. My tongue was flicking Rob’s corona and I tasted the
saltiness of his excitement as I began, for the first time, to suck his
beautiful cock.

We must have spent a half hour kissing, licking and sucking each other –
experimenting with our mouths and tongues and cocks. Stopping only when
we approached climax and only long enough to allow the urge to ejaculate
to subside. Rob finally pulled away from my cock and rotated until he
was facing me. “Let me taste my cock,” he panted and pressed his mouth
to mine. We kissed long and deep with a lot of tongue, smearing our
precum slicked lips together.

“I thought we were going to go riding,” Rob finally panted as he broke
our kiss and rose from the bed. I lay on my back with my legs open and
my cock standing stiffly vertical. “Why don’t you ride this?” I gasped
holding my rigid cock in a gloved hand and stroking it slightly.

“Not a bad idea!” Rob responded. “But I’ll need some more riding gear!”

Turning to the dresser Rob opened a couple of drawers and then turned
back to face me holding a studded black leather harness, a pair of
glossy black chaps and two black leather half masks. “If I’m going to
ride, I’m going to need something to hold on to.”

“Are you afraid that I’ll buck?”

“Oh! I’m going to want you to buck and I want to stay on for the ride.”
I rose and faced Rob. Our hard cocks were touching as I stood and let
him mask me then place the straps and chrome rings of the harness on my
upper body. “Where did you get this stuff?” I panted, wildly turned on
by the studded leather straps encircling my body.

“I borrowed it from my dad’s collection: he has so much that he’ll never
miss it!” Rob masked himself and fastened the chaps around his waist; I
knelt in front of him pulling down the hidden zippers of his boots then
zipping the chaps closed - forming them to his legs like smooth, shiny,
black, second skin before closing the boots over them. I grasped one of
Rob’s glossy boots in my gloved hands and held it as I brought my mouth
to its toe. “Oh fuck! Yes, yes!” Rob cried as I began to suck and lick
the glossy black leather encasing his legs. My mouth moved upward from
boot to boot and then onto the tight, shiny, black leather of the chaps
at Rob’s thighs. Rob groaned and began to roll his own nipples with his
gloved fingers as my mouth again found his cock. “Oh Shit!” he gasped,
“I’ve watched my dad and his friends but I never imagined it could be
this good!”

My mouth was filling with his precum and my own juices were now smearing
over Rob’s gleaming boots as I pushed my cock against them. I moved a
gloved finger to Rob’s boots and slid it into the slick smear of my ooze
then pulled back from his cock and brought the same finger to my mouth
allowing his slick juices to empty onto it. Rob’s butt crack was tight
but my slick gloved finger slipped between his buns with only a little
effort.

When Rob realized what I was doing he thrust backward and spread his
legs slightly. My finger pushed into his hole and he cried out in
delight, squirming as I worked it around inside of him. “Now, babe!” I
groaned, “Ride me! Take my hot cock up your ass.” I stepped back to the
bed and lay on my back. Rob reached into the drawer behind him and
pulled out a handful of condoms and a tube of lubricant. “Yes, Oh Fuck!
Yes!” Rob gasped now following me onto the bed and lying next to me.

Rob tore the foil from one of the rubbers and placed it onto the head of
my cock then rolled it delicately down my hard shaft with two leather-
clad fingers. I gasped as the tight latex encased my rigid member, its
pressure making me become even harder. Rob began to kiss my nipples and
at the same time open the tube of lubricant. I felt the coolness of the
lubricant as he smeared it from the tube onto my sheathed cock. I
whispered, “Yes! Make it slick so you can take it all.” Spreading his
leathered legs and straddling my crotch Rob slipped the tube of
lubricant between his buns and squeezed the slick gel into his ass. I
grasped the base of my cock and held it against his hole; Rob dropped
down and ever so slowly impaled his tight, slick anus on my hardness.
Once the full length of my cock was in Rob’s hole he held onto my
harness straps and began to slowly writhe and rotate his hips as though
he were riding me.

I had never felt anything like Rob’s tight ass clamping onto my cock.
Now lying with my head back and my mouth open gasping and thrusting my
hips up and down – I bucked violently as Rob rode me. Our motion became
quicker and quicker, Rob dropped forward and began to squeeze my tits
with his gloved hands then brought his masked face to mine; our open
mouths came together. His tongue slid nearly into my throat, I began to
suck it. My leather-encased hand slid over the smooth leather of his
chaps and then down between Rob’s legs and onto his balls. I squeezed
and rubbed the orbs hanging at Rob’s crotch and felt juices from his
rigid cock smearing against my wrist, my other hand dropped to Rob’s
crotch and I began to stroke his wet prod and roll its head with my
gloved fingers.

My cock felt as though it was about to burst and I could feel Rob’s
balls begin to draw up as spasms began in his groin. He drew in his
breath sharply and clamped his ass tight to my cock then cried out “Oh!
Motherfucker! I’m going to cumm…..Unnnnn!” Hot orgasmic juices gushed
from Rob’s cock into my gloved hand and over my belly. He rose up and I
could see his cock dancing and jerking, spewing more jets of thick spunk
that spattered my leather harnessed chest and masked face. The orgasmic
shudders of Rob’s body caused him to slide off of my cock and the motion
brought me over the edge. I screamed, “I’m creaming! Yeeeaaahhh!” and
grabbed the latex sheath encasing my cock - pulling it off just as my
eruption began. Hot cream squirted from my twitching member into the
crack of Rob’s still quivering ass and then over his balls, cock and
belly as our writhing brought us back together. I wrapped my booted legs
around his, the leather of my boots creaking as it rubbed over his
chaps. My gloved hands clasped his anal mounds and pulled Rob down so
that the last of my jism smeared with his onto both of our wet crotches.

We both sort of collapsed our bodies heaving from the exertion of our
climax. I moved my gloved hands to the back of Rob’s head and drew his
mouth to my chest – he began to lick the spatters of jizz from my tits
and leather harness straps, then worked upward over my neck to my face
and lapped his juices from my leather mask. His cum laden mouth moved to
mine and we kissed again pressing our groins and now softening cocks
together writhing slightly and feeling our bodies slide against the
slick wetness left by our orgasms. As our kiss ended Rob smiled and
panted, “Damn! Stud! That was a wild ride!” I slid my gloved hands over
his smooth body feeling his tight ass and the smooth leather of his
chaps then kissed his masked face lightly and replied, “You’d better
stay leathered up – this isn’t going to be your last!”

Rob’s father didn’t return until early Monday morning, so we managed to
get in a lot of riding over the weekend. Both kinds!