One

 

Ty and I had met online one evening when I was feeling horny.  I was hanging out in one of the many chat rooms.  We started talking about our mutual interest in leather, cowboys, bondage, and other fun things that guys like us enjoy.  We traded pictures, but neither of us used up-to-date photos.  After talking back and forth for nearly six months, I asked Ty if he would be interested in visiting my part of the world.  I had a week’s vacation coming up and thought it would be fun to finally meet in person. He would be welcome to stay at my place during that time. There was a moment of silence, and then Ty mentioned that the rodeo would be in Billings, Montana, during my vacation. He suggested I come and visit with him. We could hit the rodeo, get into bondage fun, and have a good time.

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Ty and I enjoy cowboys, their gear, and the games that two cowboys can play. Ty enjoyed the rodeo, as I did.  I’m not sure if we liked watching the bull riding, calf wrestling, or just watching those guys in chaps and Wranglers.

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Ty is purely a dominant guy, and I am submissive all the way.  After checking online, I found a cheap flight to Montana that would allow me even more time to spend with the cowboy. We planned for Ty to pick me up at the Billings airport, then we could spend nearly the entire week getting into bondage adventures.  

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The morning of my flight to Montana arrived. I put on my blue cowboy-cut Wranglers, black lace-up ropers, belt, plaid Ariat shirt, leather vest, and felt Texas-style cowboy hat.  I had packed a few other things, planning to wear my cowboy clothes exclusively while I was visiting Ty. I chuckled as I noticed a few of the guys in the airport checking me out.   And the male flight attendant sure seemed to be giving me great service.  I know that standing 6’1”, as I do, I can look pretty “tough,” but if only they knew my real personality.  I’m a husky guy, weighing in at 240 pounds; I keep my hair cut short and clean-shaven.  I’ve been trying to work out a bit, and I eventually hope to have the same muscular build as Garth Brooks.  Talk about a hunk; I would like to feel his thunder roll any time!

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As I stepped off the plane in Billings, I felt the snugness of the Wranglers on my legs, with them stacked on my boots.

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Entering the small terminal, I quickly made my way out of the gate and spotted Ty right away, just outside the secure area.  He looked even better than in his pictures.  In his 40’s, Ty’s big smile came through his mustache and goatee as he saw me. 

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Ty was around 6 feet tall and probably weighed 190 pounds.  He wore black Wranglers that fit him right in all the correct places.  He wore black leather squared-toe boots and a black belt with a large silver rodeo buckle.  His shirt was black and white, with embroidered logos from PRA events, and he wore tight leather gloves. The cowboy wore a black rodeo-style cowboy hat just above his eyebrows.  He looked damn hot, and I was glad I had flown all this way.  We shook hands, his piercing blue eyes taking firm hold of my gaze for a few moments as I could feel his power move through me.

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Releasing our shake,  Ty gently placed his hand on my shoulder and guided me down the short concourse and through the baggage claim area before we exited the terminal to the sun shining between a few popcorn-type clouds.

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We busied ourselves with small talk: how was my flight, and how had the weather been?  I really wanted to talk more, but didn’t feel comfortable taking too much control of the conversation. Going through the parking lot, there were lots of hot-looking 4x4 trucks, any of which I was hoping that Ty would shove me into the bed of one and show me how he rides cowboys...But I knew that wouldn’t happen.

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We arrived at his truck.  I should’ve known. It was a well-kept Dodge Ram 2500 4x4 in a dark burgundy.  I could tell it was his with the rodeo stickers on the back of the camper shell.  The windows were all tinted.  He unlocked the passenger door, and I climbed in.  Soon we were on the road.  I asked where the rodeo grounds were, and he said we’d be heading east of the town.  We talked more about our rodeo, leather, and bondage interests.  He said he was excited about showing me some rope work firsthand.  We both smiled at each other.

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As we headed east on the two-lane road leading out of town, Ty asked if I’d like to see his rodeo gear.  To which I replied, “I would love to!”

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A smile came across the cowboy’s face as he nodded slightly, “Yeah, I knew you would, you fucking horny little shit.”

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Immediately, the truck slowed as Ty steered it into a larger cleared area with gravel and oil spots along the roadway. Stopping a long distance from the roadway, Ty was already climbing out of the truck as he said to me, “The gear is in the back.”

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I exited my truck side as Ty reached up to open the camper and the tailgate. The cowboy had me climb in first as the only light was in the two side windows on the camper shell that sat on the bed of the Dodge.

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The afternoon had gotten warm, which kept this shell space warm. The smell of used leather and tack filled the back of the truck, and I could see his chaps and gear lying on the bedliner of the truck. Taking the chaps in his gloved hands, Ty explained the custom design of his chaps and their meaning to his history with the rodeo. Then he showed me the spurs he uses for bronco and bull riding. They were silver with a hand-tooled strap that would cross over his boots.

 

Lifting his head, Ty looked at me and asked if I would be interested in trying on the spurs.

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“Would I?” I responded, which brought a smile to the cowboy. At that point, he helped me work the spurs onto my lace-up boots. They were not exactly the right style, but they were snug against the leather, jingling with the silver as I moved my feet.

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Ty noticed how I was eyeing the chaps, so he let me put them on also.  My crotch was straining against my denim.  I couldn’t stand straight with the low roof of the truck shell, but the chaps felt great! They were hand-tooled in brown, with some suede elements for accent. Of course, lots of fringes were sewn along the edges of the chaps. Thin belts connected at my waist and on my legs to secure the leather chaps to my Wranglers and legs.

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I was beginning to feel like a real cowboy, only wishing I had a mirror.  I had left my hat in the truck, so I wasn’t complete, but I didn’t mind.  I then noticed his bull-riding glove.  It was a tan leather glove with a long gauntlet with a long piece of rawhide attached to it. Ty had me put it on.  He started to wrap the rawhide around my wrist, but then said he needed something.  The cowboy worked for my hand behind my back as Ty reached for something.  Somehow, he got my other hand behind my back, and before I knew it, Ty had my wrists tied with the rawhide.

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The cowboy I met a little while ago at the airport smiled at me and asked if I liked that.  He grabbed my crotch and got his answer.  Ty pulled out some rope and tied my ankles together, followed by my legs and knees.  Lying me on my side on the truck's bed,  Ty took my wrists and tied them with some rope, ran the rope down my back, through my legs and tied it off at my belt buckle.  If I tugged on my hands, it pulled at my crotch.  Moving to my stomach, pulled my legs up; Ty tied them down in a hogtie, so that the spurs were digging into my Wrangler-covered ass.  My hands fit right between both feet.  Ty came to my head, grabbed a heavy rubber-bit gag, strapping it around my head and between my lips.  He lifted my chin, staring me right in the eyes, “Buckaroo, you’re going to see the rodeo firsthand.  My ranch is down the road.  You’re mine now, I’ve roped you and you ain’t leaving till I say so.  You wanted to be roped, boy, you’re going to be wishing you never had to leave.”

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With that, he gives me a big smile while patting my face with his gloved hand. I can smell the leather on his hand as the smooth, cool leather lies on my cheek.  Ty reaches over and grabs a canvas bag that seems lined with leather.  I think it is like some feedback. Sliding it over my head, Ty snuggly closes it around my neck.  I struggle as he climbs out of the back of the truck. I hear the back of the truck bed shut, followed by his boots on the gravel as he reaches his driver’s side door. Opening the door, Ty climbs in as the truck rocks slightly, and the door is slammed shut. In a moment, the diesel engine starts up, and we move back onto the road, headed to Ty’s ranch.  

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The roads outside of Billings aren’t the greatest.  Every time we hit a bump, those spurs dig into my ass.  I have no idea how long I’m in for this ride.  My nose fills with leather and a little sweat as my head is in this bag.  I can feel the chaps against my jeans, my one leathered hand and the ropes that keep me tied up.  Gawd, if this is the beginning, I hope I can handle what will come.

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The drive seems long, and I am sweating like a pig.  There doesn’t seem to be much air circulation in the back of this truck, and the Montana sun pounds on the plastic of the shell.  I struggle in my bondage, but I will not escape, and at this point, I am pretty sure I do not want to.  I feel how snug my Wranglers are, now that they are wrapped in the leather of the chaps.  The edge of the chaps is right below my hard dick head, and I struggle to make something happen.  But the distance is just a little too great, so I stay hard.

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The truck comes to a halt.  I hear Ty’s door slam, but Ty doesn’t seem to come around and let me out.  I continue to lie still so that I can hear what is happening.  Hearing is difficult with this bag on my head, for I hear my breathing.  I also feel the sweat running down my face as things seem to be getting warmer.  Here I am in full clothing, with a leather bag on my head, no wonder I am sweating!

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After a long time alone in the back of the truck, I hear the tailgate lower, followed by the hatch.  I hear Ty climb in.  He takes the bag off my head, “How are we doing, cowboy?”  He has a big grin, still in his western duds that he wore earlier.  I nod my head that I am ok.  “Well, our fun is just beginning.”

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With that, he begins to untie all his nice rope work except my hands.  He slides me out to the truck's tailgate and helps me sit up on the edge.  It is great to feel my muscles stretch a bit.  Ty removes the bit gag, pulling a yellow bandana out of his back pocket.  He unzips his Wranglers, fishes out his dick and starts to piss on the bandana.  After soaking the bandana, Ty turns his piss on my boots, as they dangle from the tailgate.  When he is done, he puts his great-looking dick back into his jeans and zips up. 

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“Don’t want you to get thirsty,” Ty says as he balls up the bandana and brings it to my mouth.  I struggle and tell him no, as I’m not a piss drinker. That doesn’t stop Ty as he forces the bandana between my lips, as the soaked yellow bandana lodges in my mouth, drops of his piss rolling down my throat. Quickly, the cowboy grabs a wide leather strap, which he puts around my head and tightly holds the gag in my mouth.  Next comes a leather blindfold that Ty straps over my eyes.  Once that is in place, he grabs my wrists, pulling me to my booted feet. With the bondage holding my hand behind my back, Ty drags me away from the truck. 

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As we walk, I feel drops of piss rolling down my throat.  Ty is rougher with me now than when we met earlier.  He grabs my crotch, feeling that I am still hard. 

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“As I thought,” he chuckles.

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As we walk, our booted steps turn from dirt to wood.  I feel the stale warmth and the odor of animals, concluding that we are in a barn.  Ty takes me to a point, and we stop.  I feel him working with my hands, and I am beginning to be thankful that he will release them. 

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But shortly, my arms are pulled up behind me, and I am made to bend over at the waist.  I moan into the gag; this is not comfortable.  I am worried about my balance.  After he secures my wrists, Ty takes the rope and binds my elbows together as close as they can get.  Then he takes my booted feet and kicks them together, binding my ankles and knees.  Ty takes the rope and wraps it around my waist, and I feel he is securing it somehow so that I won’t fall over.  A device of leather straps is pulled onto my head; I feel it is a head harness.  I feel a tug on my head, and I figure he has tied a rope to the D-ring at the top and stretched it to some point, making me immobile.  Then Ty unzips my Wranglers and fishes out my dick and balls.  He ropes them very tightly and stretches them out before me.  Ty takes the blindfold off me, and he stands before me.

“I wanted you to see how helpless you are, cowboy.” With that, Ty steps away, and there is a mirror before me.  I see myself in a barn, with ranch tools and equipment around me.  There I am bound in my Wranglers, chaps, piss-covered boots, and shirt, with a piss gag in my mouth, and a leather head harness surrounding my head.  My wrists are secured behind me, pulled up to a beam overhead, forcing me to bend forward, in a bit of pain.  White ropes tightly secure my leather-covered legs, my dick and balls stretched forward of me, tied to a ring in the floor.  My head was secured with a rope tied to a beam above.  After I get a good look, my dick is as hard as it gets.  Ty snaps a blindfold to the head harness. 

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I hear his booted steps in the barn, a whooshing noise, and something crashes on my ass.  I did not expect this and struggled in my bondage, pulling and tugging every piece.  Another and another hit, Ty is using a leather belt on my ass.  While it hurts and I moan in my gag, I know it doesn’t hurt as much as if I were bare ass naked.  He continues his strapping.  As I pull forward when I am hit, I pull on my sore arms, and as I bounce back, I tug on my balls.  Ty is clever with the bondage.  He hits me twenty or so times, making my ass sore, also.  He stops, and I hear him walk away.  The cowboy leaves me alone, in pain, in a very uncomfortable position, to wonder what I did to get here.  But I am as hard as a rock.​​​​​​​