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Monday, 22 December 2014

Bull Sergeant 1

My Christmas Wishes post gave me the idea for a story. We'll see how it goes. The sadistic young constable lusts after his bull sergeant. He changes his shifts and leave to be near the big man, and at last gets the chance he's been waiting for. Returning from an assignment and due four days leave, they are off the police radar. Pulling off the road into a deserted wood the sergeant pulls out his massive cock for a piss. The constable draws his truncheon.....

Sunday, 30 November 2014

Marine Down 29

When I'm writing or drawing,

the charactors often seem to take over the story. The MP is a real badass. Hooray!

Saturday, 27 September 2014

The Carrot 3

Back from my holidays I hopefully can now get back into my usual routine and have a chance to draw again. In the meantime here are some more pages of the incomplete story, The Carrot

Thursday, 21 August 2014


Fingered meaning to point out or select, rather than the usual ...ahem

Monday, 14 July 2014

Re Marine Down

Thanks otherguise I'm looking forward to the TV programme. I have nothing but admiration for the finished product but seeing how he's made will be fun.

Sunday, 13 April 2014

Comments on Marine Down

Thanks Mikhail and Dote. Glad to hear you're enjoying the story so far. The belt is applied primarily to the pecs and balls. The pain builds up slowly until the nipples feel as if they are on fire. The balls are very sensative to pain too, but in this case its the deep down fear that a man has for his manhood that is a key to breaking him. Nice to hear from you.

Take Care

Monday, 3 March 2014

Re Marine Down

To Redbruce

Whoa boy... I've got to draw them first. Glad you're enjoying it. Couple more pics tomorrow.
Best Regards

Thursday, 27 February 2014

Marine Down 1

We begin a new illustrated story.  As they used to say, "Watch this space."

Wednesday, 5 February 2014

The Marshal Page 18

Page 18
Bradburn stood naked, head bowed, as Jose tied his arms behind his back, securing them at wrists and elbows so that his hands were held well above his waist. He roughly stuffed one of the dirty towels into the Marshal's mouth, pulled a length of rope back between his teeth and tied it tightly behind the cropped bullet head.
"Down over the end of the bed," Jose snapped.
Bradburn glared at him defiantly, head up and legs spread wide, his hard cock jutting out proudly. Jose snapped his head to the right with a backhand then slapped it to the left hard enough to make his ears ring. He grabbed Bradburn by his shoulders and flung him down onto the bed,
"You're going to learn your place, you big-dicked gringo ape."

Bradburn held himself rigid and the only sound was the loud staccato crack of the belt as Jose lashed him with a fierce intensity. The Marshal's silence spurred Jose on to beat him harder and harder and the big rounded buttocks had slowly turned a fiery red before he saw the first small flinch. Then Bradburn began to moan softly and Jose noticed the first small beads of blood appear. Now he was whipping the bleeding ass with all his might as Bradburn moaned through his gag but after the initial flinch he held his body rock steady. Slowly at first a burning urge to fuck the beautiful hairy ass grew until Jose could no longer deny it. Sweating and panting, he threw aside the heavy belt and hooked out his straining cock. With trembling hands, he positioned his glans between the bleeding whipped buttocks then dropped down onto Bradburn's body, driving his cock up into his guts. The Marshal gave a loud grunt and reared up, but Jose forced him back down and shoved his face into the mattress. He was firmly in the saddle. For the first time, Jose had his cock plugged deep into another man's ass and the sensation intoxicated him. He shunted back and forth a few times until his balls were slapping Bradburns's buttocks before he began the fuck of his life. It was harder and more brutal than anything Olhson had dished out and Bradburn was in ecstasy. They were both grunting like rutting elks and running in sweat before he fired his load onto the mattress and heard Jose give a scream of elation and explode.

They sluiced themselves in cold water from the washbasin and Jose got the iodine out again.
"I don't think I'll be able to sit in a saddle again for a month," Bradburn said with a laugh, as he dressed.
"Sure you will, I'll borrow one of mother's cushions," Jose said, not quite hiding the love and admiration he felt for this incredibly tough man.
"That would be really nice, Jose. If you can still walk, how about going over to the saloon for a drink?"
"Sure," Jose replied, understanding Bradburn's need to get on to neutral territory.

"So I've gotta look for a new Deputy," Bradburn said, taking a swig of beer. "How about it?"
"How about what?"
"You Jose, its the obvious thing to do. We can be together all the time and share a bed. Nobody would bat an eyelid."
"I suppose not, I guess its time I left home."
"You'd have to take orders from me but in the bedroom you're the boss. There you can use and abuse
me anyway you like. What do you say?"
"Its a deal," Jose said, sticking out his hand.
Bradburn beamed with delight as he grasped it.
"We can do the swearing-in and paperwork later and I'll have to see old Virgil . But for now...."
Bradburn left the sentence unfinished and turning his back on the bar, shouted,
"Gentlemen, may I have your attention."
When the busy hubbub had stilled, he raised his voice again,
"Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet the new Deputy Marshal of Tyler."
This news was greeted with a burst of applause and there were even a few cheers as Bradburn pinned the bade to Jose's shirt.`
When the congratulations were over and the men had returned to their drinks, Jose said,
"I know I don't give the orders here Sir, but can we finish our drinks and get back to the Jailhouse?"
"Sure, I could do with some rest."
"That's not what I had in mind, far from it."
"You're going to fuck me senseless."
"Yes Sir," Bradburn replied with a smile.

                                                                 The End

Tuesday, 4 February 2014

The Marshal Page 17

Page 17
"Ohlson won't be coming back," Bradburn yelled," he's on his way to Louisiana." The men greeted this news in shocked silence.
"I shall be sending a telegram to Dayton, who, as sure as hell WILL be coming back." The cowboys began to chatter excitedly and Bradburn saw the fear on most of the faces.
"Listen up..QUIET," he yelled.
When silence had been restored he again raised his voice.
"I've got a proposition for you. We all know what a fire-bellied religious fanatic Dayton is. If I tell him exactly what's been going on here, he'll probably have the lot of you flogged and driven out of the territory. He's rich and powerful enough to do it, and you probably deserve it." Bradburn let this sink in for a few moments before he continued,
"If, on the other hand, you promise to keep your mouths shut, I could tell him that Ohlson just took himself off. Nothing more."
There was then more excited chatter until Bradburn bawled,
"Quiet, that's enough."
When he once more had their attention he said,
"Okay, those in favour of me telling Dayton the whole truth, raise their hands."
The cowboys looked at each other nervously but none raised their arm.
"Okay, those prepared to keep their mouths shut?"
All hands shot up and Bradburn felt a huge sense of relief.
"I'll telegram Dayton later today. In the meantime we need to select a new foreman, who's it to be?"
For a moment the cowboys looked nonplussed, then someone shouted,
"How about Walt?"
There was a chorus  of shouts and Bradburn raised his arm for silence.
"Okay, let's vote on it. Whose in favour of Walt?"
Only three hands were not raised.
"Well, Walt it is," Bradburn said and there was a loud cheer.
He signalled for Jose to climb down and Walt came up to him, grinning from ear to ear.
"No hard feelings, eh Marshal?"
"No Walt, if you can lead men as well as you can fuck 'em, you should do well. See they keep their
word though, it will be real bad for any any them that don't."
"Don't worry Marshal, some of these men ain't very bright, but none of 'em is that dumb."

                                                          Chapter 19

Back at the Rugero ranch Bradburn peeled off his blood stained shirt and handed it to Sanchez.
"The welts are drying up Abe but you need to get them cleaned."
"There'll be plenty of time for that later," the Marshal replied as Sanchez handed him a fresh shirt.
Bradburn pinned on his badge then snapped,
"Where's Corky?"
"In the kitchen," Sanchez replied, "but go easy on  him Abe."
Bradburn looked at the bruised and cut face and, throwing his arms around Sanchez, pulled him into a rough embrace.
"Thanks for what you did out there Sanchez."
"That's what friends are for, Abe."

Corky was sitting at the kitchen table, his chest and back swathed in bandages and his right arm in a sling. As he raised his pale face, Bradburn saw the fear glittering on his eyes.
"I'm sorry Abe...I.."
"Shut up, you little bastard. You and I have nothing to say to each other. If you weren't injured, I'd beat you to pulp," Bradburn snarled, then noticed Jose's mother hovering anxiously.
"Thank you Senora, I'll take care of him now."
She bowed and quietly left the room.
"Where's your shirt" Bradburn snapped, and Corky nodded towards the chair at the other end of the table?
The blood had been rinsed out and it had been washed, ironed and neatly folded. Bradburn snatched it up, ripped off the Deputy badge and slung it around Corky's shoulders.
"Get up, we are leaving."
"Don't tempt me Mister, up and move."
Bradburn led Corky out of the ranch house and Jose fell into step beside him, as he led him to his horse. They heaved Corky into his saddle and the Rugero family came out onto the porch to silently
watch the three horsemen ride slowly away.

As they rode into Tyler the townsfolk stared but kept their distance. They hitched their horses outside the Jailhouse and, helping Corky down, led him inside.
"Jose get the bastard's things packed while I go see Virgil. The stage leaves in about an hour and I want him on it."
Bradburn knew that if he wanted anything broadcast around the town, just tell Makepeace. The little man listened intently to the Marshal's tale of pursuit and ambush and Bradburn had to admit to himself that it sounded very convincing.
"So Mr Drew wants to quit, you say?"
"Yeah, he plans to go back to the railroads, says the pays a damn sight better and its a whole lot safer."
"I'm sure it is. He's a fine young man and I'll be sorry to see him go."
Bradburn bit back an angry retort and marched out of the shop.

When they took Corky down to the stage, Bradburn's heart sank. Virgil had done his job well and a group of well-wishers had gathered to see Corky off. There was a lot of tears, handshakes and fuss, and Bradburn stood by, tense and tight-lipped. Corky was eventually ensconced in the stage and, as it pulled away, Bradburn gave a huge sigh of relief. Then seeing that the well-wishers were about to turn their attention to the Marshal, Jose grabbed his arm.
"Come on Abe, let's get out of here."

Jose locked the Jailhouse door as Bradburn went up the creaky stairs to his room. He had already tugged off his shirt and was sitting on the bed tugging off his boots when Jose joined him.
"Where do you keep the towels" he asked as he poured water into the washbasin.
"Under the stand there," Bradburn replied, peeling off his borrowed  levis and sinking back onto the bed with a sigh. Jose found a neatly folded pile of towels on a shelf beside a shallow enamel sterilising bowl, containing a scalpel and a couple of surgical needles. There was also two dark green cork-stoppered bottles.
"What's in the bottles, Abe?"
"Ah, that's my bullet wound kit. One's white spirit and the other iodine."
"Just when you need for those cuts Abe," Jose said.
He uncorked one, checked it was iodine, then said,
"Okay Abe, over on your belly."
Jose carefully washed away the dried blood and saw the big purple welts had began to sudside and the cuts were shallow, mostly just broken skin.
"Bad news is, this is going to sting like hell."
"What's the good news, if any?"
"You won't be left with any scars."
"Thank you Doctor Rugero. Ahhhhh."
After his first yelp, more from surprise than pain, Bradburn lay still and quiet.
"Okay, that's done, now over on your back."
"My God, Jose gasped, looking a Bradburn's groin. His lower belly and thighs were an angry dark red, his beuatiful cock, although tumsecent, was badly bruised and his huge balls almost purple. Also there were scores of tiny beads of blood made by the studs. As Jose swabbed away the blood, Bradburn hissed with pain.
"Sorry Abe, but you'll feel much better when I've finished."
"Thanks once again, Doctor Rugero," Bradburn said, managing a weak smile.

Finally Jose folded the towel and, putting it aside, leaned forward to suck the Marshal's delicious glans into his mouth.
"No," Bradburn said sharply. Jose pulled back as if he'd been slapped.
"What's wrong Abe, I just...?
"Sorry Jose, things have changed," Bradburn said, pulling himself up and swinging his legs to the floor. Jose's heart sank like a stone as the Marshal slumped forward and rested his wrists on his knees.
Bradburn saw the anguish on Jose's face and dropped his head as he whispered
"Ohlson fucked and beat me until ..I.."
"I can see that Abe but its over now. What's wrong?"
Bradburn's head dropped further forward and Jose saw that his neck was flushed red.
"He broke me like you would a young stallion. He....
There was a long pause and Jose waited, breathless.
"He mastered me."
"Okay Abe, you were helpless and he tortured you, that's over now,"
"It isn't Jose...." There was another even longer pause before Bradburn lifted his head and his dark eyes locked with Jose's.
"No, listen Jose, in the end I wanted him to."
The cropped head dropped forward again and Jose felt excitement begin to warm his belly.
"What are you saying Abe," Jose whispered?
Bradburn made no reply and, as the silence lengthened, Jose said, the excitement making his voice crack,
"You want me to......?"
Bradburn reached down and yanked the heavy studded belt out of Viking's levis.
"He used this on my balls. I want you to do the same and make as even better job of it. But they've
taken as much punishment as they can right now. Guess you'll have to settle for my ass."
As he took the belt, Jose's heart began to race and his body thrum with lust.
"You can use a towel to gag me and you'll find some rope in the closet."

Saturday, 1 February 2014

The Marshal Page 16

Page 16
"When this bastard comes to, he's gonna start hollering his head off. Any idea how we can gag him?"
"Sure, saw the Mexican hands do it once to a rustler they'd captured. They used his shirt. but I guess a piece of that sacking in the cart would do. See if you can find a round stone about two inches across." By the time Bradburn had found a suitable stone Jose had cut a piece of sacking about six inches wide and some two feet long. He spread it out on the sand, placed the stone about halfway  along the nearest edge and carefully rolled it up. Then he twisted one end until it resembled a rope and told Bradburn to hold it, whilst he did the same to the other end.
"Now Abe, get the bastard's mouth open quickly."

Viking's eyes were open but still blank and unfocussed. Bradbrun pinched his nose and he obligingly opened his mouth. Jose slipped in the stone and quickly tied the ends of the twisted sacking tightly together behind his head.
"He'll still make a fair bit of noise but he can't talk," Jose said with a laugh.
Reaching for a knife, Bradburn said, "Fine, now let's roll him over onto his belly so I can cut that damn plait off and the rest of his hair."
"Its quite a story."
As he worked, Bradburn told Jose what Viking had planned for him. Jose listened in silence but Viking made as much noise as his gag would allow.
"So you and I are going to hand him over to the Mexican slavers."
"Oh Boy, I like that Abe. Let's get moving. we don't want to miss them. By the way, are you planning on getting dressed."

They loaded Viking into the back of the cart and headed out over the desert to the meeting point, a huge pinnacle of red rock which a gloating Viking had described in detail. As they approached they saw that half a dozen men waited in the shade of a makeshift tent.
"Want me to do the talking Abe?"
"Sure, my Spanish isn't bad, as you know, but we don't want any misunderstandings."

"Greetings Senor, I hope we have not kept you waiting too long."
"Greetings Senor, about an hour but it is of no consequence," the leader replied. He wore a neatly trimmed moustache and his white teeth flashed as he smiled. Bradburn noticed that he tapped an ornate riding boot with a long horsewhip as he added,
"But let us see the merchandise."
Two of the slavers flung the sacking aside and hauled Viking, struggling and babbling, from the cart.
"Magnificent, my friends. He'll be very good for the job we have in mind. Almost too good," he added looking at Viking's huge cock. Suddenly Viking lunged forward at the leader, screaming through his gag and the two slavers hauled him back. The leader's horsewhip lashed Viking across
the face and as he flinched, cut him twice more, across the chest.
"Silence scum, on your knees." Viking stared uncomprehendingly.
"Down on your knees," the leader said again, this time pointing and Viking shook his head. The horsewhip flashed again, twice cutting into Viking's balls and he dropped to his knees.
"He was much spirit this one, but that is not good in a slave. Never fear, we shall break it." The teeth flashed again.
"Now there is only the little matter of your signature and your fee. I trust the agreed amount is satisfactory?" Having no idea what sum was involved, Jose nodded and took the piece of parchment from one of the helpers. He indicated that Bradburn should turn around and. resting the paper on his broad shoulder took the proffered pen. He signed, 'Virgil Makepeace,' and, as he handed back the document, saw that blood from the welts on Bradburn's  back had begun to soak through his shirt. They had to get out of here before it was noticed.
"Blood, keep your back to them Abe," he whispered in English. The leader handed Jose a heavy leather money bag and solemnly shook his hand. "Adios Senor."

They mounted the cart and as they moved away, Jose glanced over his shoulder. Viking, naked and bound, was still kneeling in the dust. A leather collar was being attached to his neck and the crude tent was being dismantled.
"Think they noticed the blood on my shirt" Bradburn asked?
"Not sure, but I guess its not important now. They got what they wanted."
When they got back on the trail through the hills they stopped and counted the Mexican coins. They weren't sure exactly but it looked like a small fortune. Taking the badge out of his pocket, Jose pinned it to Bradburn's shirt.
"What do we do now Abe?"
"First we go to Daytons and sort that out. Then we go to your ranch and collect Corky. After that its home."

                                                              Chapter 18

Daytons was eerily quite although the sun was well up.
"I guess that they had themselves some party last night and, as the boss is away, they are sleeping of their hangovers," Bradburn reasoned.
"What do you plan to do, Abe?"
Bradburn's eyes were drawn  to the water tower, which dominated the whole ranch.
"I want you to get up onto that platform, under the water tank with a shotgun. When you're in position I'll go into the bunkhouse and rouse those lazy bums. I'll line them up in the yard where you can cover them."
They dismounted and Bradburn tethered the horses while Jose sprinted across to the water tower.

Gun drawn, Bradburn steppeds very quietly through the bunkhouse door. The long room was a shambles, boots and clothing tossed anywhere and the men were sprawled naked on two rows of cots. He noticed that three of the beds were occupied by two men and one, judging by the tangle of naked limbs, held four. He smiled to himself, inhaling the heavy male smell appreciatively. Then he fired a shot into the ceiling and there was pandemonium. He fired again and in the sudden silence that he followed he yelled,
"Hands on your heads and go line up in the corral."
Still dazed and half-asleep, the naked men stumbled out into the bright sunshine and, seeing Jose had them covered with his shotgun, lined up meekly in the corral. Bradburn strutted around to face them.
"Okay, hands behind your backs and spread your legs wide," he shouted.
All the cowboys were sporting full morning erections and Bradburn's rock hard cock strained against his levis as he looked at the formidable weapons that had fucked him remorselessly during the night. The stubble-chinned Walt was probably the best endowed and as he caught Bradburn's eye he smirked.

Thursday, 30 January 2014

The Marshal Page 15

Page 15
Another hand was fucking Bradburn, who'd been forced down onto his belly. He was slamming into him with brute force, eager to exhibit his stamina and virility to his peers. Bradburn had lost count of how many cocks had been drivien into him. He'd let go, let his body take over and he was adrift in a sea of pain and lust. Suddenly a scream cut through the noise of the drunken chatter and laughter.

"I can't boss... you're killin' AAAHHH."
"All the way in you little bastard," Viking grated and began to drive into Walt ruthlessly. The cowboy's cries gradually turned to moans that had not much to do with pain.
"Last time I fucked you, you were too drunk to notice. Not this time though Eh?"

                                                                         Chapter 17

Jose waited impatiently while Sanchez and his father washed and changed. Then when they were seated for dinner he told them about his unease.
"If Abe didn't go to Twin Pines, where is he," Jose asked.
"There's the telegram," said his father.
"Anyone can send a telegram Papa," Sanchez observed.
"Yes and where is Corky," Jose asked? Then he recalled the look of hatred that Corky had given Abe.
"It's something to do with Corky, I'm sure...Corky and.... Oh My God."
"What," both his father and Sanchez asked at the same time?
"Viking. Its Viking and Corky."
"Yes, Abe was seen heading out alone northeast," Sanchez reasoned. "Towards the Dayton ranch."
"I must get there at once, God knows what they are doing to him." Jose leapt up from the table.
"Its no good rushing out there in the dark. Sit down and eat your dinner." Sanchez said. The moon will be up a couple of hours before dawn. We'll go then"
"You will come with me?"
"Of course little brother."

The moon was fading and the sky lightening when the brothers reached Daytons, an hour before dawn. They sat watching the moonlit ranch and could detect no signs of movement or evidence of guards. Leaving their horses in the shade of a clump of trees, they moved cautiously forward until they were only some fifty yards from the barns and corral. Again they stopped and Sanchez whispered,
"Its strange there are no guards after the Indian raids we've been having."
"But there's a light in the big barn," Jose replied and Sanchez noticed, for the first time, the thin crack of light escaping between the doors. "And look, there's two horses harnessed to a cart."
"What the hell are they playing at?"
Suddenly there was the sound of a heavy bolt being pulled back and both men froze. Slowly the barn doors swung open.
"Down," Sanchez hissed, dropping to the ground and pulling his brother down with him. A ruggedly good-looking man emerged, the lantern swinging from his right hand throwing into sharp relief the big glans jutting against his threadbare levis. Then Viking and Corky emerged carrying Bradburn, naked and bound hand and foot. Jose reared up and Sanchez, who was still holding his brother's arm,
tightened his grip.
"Keep down Jose. We don't want to wake the whole ranch. Jose sank back and Sanchez could feel him trembling like a wild animal poised for flight. Bradburn was swung into the cart like a sack of grain and covered with sacking. Viking and Corky climbed aboard and, as the cart trundled slowly away, Viking shouted over his shoulder,
"Hit the sack for another couple of hours Walt, and you'll feel better."
"Yeah but it won't do much for my sore ass," the cowboy called back and Corky gave a snort of laughter. Walt walked back across the corral and the brothers watched the cart move slowly away and turn onto the western trail.
"Come on," Sanchez whispered and leaping to his feet, sprinted back to the horses.
"Where are we going," Jose asked?
"North into those hills."
"Trust me, come on, little brother."

They rode north for about ten minutes then picked their way along a very rough track heading west along the ridge of the hills. As the sky lightened they made better speed and at last reached the brow of the last hill, overlooking the desert. Below them the trail emerged from the hills and ran, straight as an arrow, out across the sea of red sand and cactus.
"We're in time, come on Jose, let's get down there and prepare a surprise for them."

They heard the creak of the cart and stepped out of the rocks on each side of the trail as it drew level, guns drawn.
"Stop," Sanchez yelled, his gun levelled at Viking's head.
"What the fuck is this," Viking shouted belligerently, but reined-in the horses?
"Hands up high and step down."
"Sure Mister, but go easy with that gun," Viking replied in a more conciliatory tone. He rose from the driving seat and then, without warning, flung himself down on to Sanchez. The two men crashed to the ground and the gun went off. Jose eyes flicked away from Corky for a second which was all the time he needed. He kicked the gun levelled at him out of Jose's hand and sprung at him. Sanchez was a big strong man, useful with his fists, but was outclassed by Viking and was soon taking a beating. Jose and Corky traded punches before two hard crosses had the red-headed man reeling. Then Jose threw a haymaker and Corky dodged it, more by luck than judgement, and seeing a chance, brought his knee up hard into Jose's balls.
"Got yah, you bastard," Corky snarled and, as Jose bucked forward, smashed his fist into his mouth. Jose went down hard onto his back and Corky staggered towards the cart. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, Jose saw Corky reaching for the shotgun hanging in it's long holster. He rolled onto his side and reached back for his throwing knife. The blade thudded into Corky's back and he grunted, dropped to his knees, then pitched forward onto his face. Jose scrambled to his feet, snatched up the shotgun, and lurched around the cart.Viking straddled Sanchez, pinning him down with his knees as he raised his fist. Jose transferred his grip to the barrel of the shotgun and swung it at Viking's head. The butt struck the blond head with a loud crack and Viking fell forward onto Sanchez, senseless.

Jose dragged the limp body off his brother and helped him to his feet. The two brothers clung to each other for a moment, then Jose said,
"Can yuou see to Corky, I think I've killed him. Sanchez pulled the knife out of Corky's shoulder and rolled him over.
"He'll be okay, Jose. its only a shoulder wound. But he's losing a lot of blood. I'd best get him back to the ranch. You be okay here?"
"Yes," he replied, climbing into the cart. He pulled the sacking away and the naked, bound Marshal sat up.
"Thank God you are okay," Jose said, drawing Bradburn into his arms. The Marshal groaned,
"Hey, Jose, get this fucking badge out of my tit and untie me before you crush the life out of me."

"My God, you've taken a beating Abe ," Jose said when they finally released each other.
"Yeah, but I'll live. Come on let's get that blond bastard stripped and tied up."
"Sure, you might like me walking around bollock-naked but a lot of folk don't take to it lightly."
"Sorry I'm being dumb," Jose said as Bradburn rolled Viking over onto his back and started to ease
off his boots. Jose stripped off Viking's shirt and chaps then sat back on his haunches and stared at the heavily muscled torso and the enormous bulge in the guy's pants.
"He might be an evil bastard but at least he's clean," Bradburn said as he peeled off Viking's hose. "Now stop gawping and help me get his levis off."

Bradburn stared at the massive cock, thick and tumescent, lying across Viking's hairy belly and felt his own dick hardening. He turned and, seeing that Jose was staring open-mouthed he snapped,
"Get the fucking rope, come on Jose, move it, he's coming round."
"Oh Yes, sorry." As they tied Viking's ankles and lashed his wrists together behind him, Bradburn said.

Sunday, 26 January 2014

The Marshal Page 14

Page 14

Viking swung the buckle and Bradburn began to grunt and sob. His balls grew dark red and started to turn purple before Bradburn threw back his head, gave a strangled cry and exploded. Spunk flew yards across the barn and spattered Viking's face and chest.
"Quite a performance, Marshal, sir," Viking mocked as he unroped the naked man sagging against the post. Bradburn dropped to his knees, head bowed.
"Now, Submit," Viking hissed. The Marshal nodded.
"Say it, you bastard," Viking yelled, "Say I submit Sir."
Bradburn lifted his head and whispered,
"I submit, Sir."
"Louder, come on, let's all hear it."
"I submit Sir," Bradburn yelled.
"That's better," Viking crowed, pulling out his straining cock with shaking hands.
"Come here, you fairy and suck my cock. Crawl."
Bradburn had to stretch his mouth wide to take the huge glans and felt his jaw crack. His mouth was flooded with a glorious salty taste and he eagerly pressed forward until be began to gag. Viking grabbed his ears and driving his massive cock deep into Bradburn's throat, pulled his head forward until the Marshal's nose was buried in his public hair. Viking savoured the moment then drew back to let the gagging man get his breath before he began to face fuck him. He was very close and after barely a minute of brutal thrusting he exploded, withdrawing a little so that he could fill Bradburn's mouth with his thick spunk. Only when his last spasm had died did he release his head and withdraw. Then he looked down at the big muscular man kneeling before him. Bradburn raised his head and Viking saw the spunk oozing from the sides of his mouth, matting his black beard and dripping onto his hairy chest. Viking was exultant, he had broken the man he'd hated and yet so desired.
"Now you cock-sucking pansy, here's another first, lick my boots.

                                                                Chapter 15

Jose rode into Tyler and hitched his horse near the Jailhouse. He spotted the notice in the window and, mounting the steps, read

Marshal and Deputy out of town on duty. Enquiries to Virgil Makepeace at the Mercantile.

Strange he thought and headed across the street to the Mercantile.
"Mr Makepeace's in back, in his office," the young assistant said, and Jose made his way between the sacks and boxes to the rear of the shop. The office door was ajar and Jose tapped on the frosted glass before he peered in.
"Come in my boy," Virgil called as he rose from his desk. "What can I do for you?"
Makepeace was a small man with a huge moustache and sidewhiskers.
"I was kind of looking for the Marshal."
"Ain't here boy, gone down to Twin Pines with the Deputy."
"I find that kind of strange Sir."
"Nothing strange about it. See here's the telegram." Jose read the yellow form and handed it back to Virgil.
"If there's nothing I can do for you boy, I'll wish you good day."
Oh, sure sir, good day and thank you," Jose said and walked out through the cluttered shop. He stood for a moment, feeling puzzled and a little uneasy, in the bright sunshine then headed across the street to the saloon. Buying a beer, he stood at the bar, trying to reason out why he felt so uneasy. Two beers later, he was just deciding to leave when the big hairy guy, called Ben, pushed through the doors. His face lit up when he saw Jose and he walked over.
"Hi Chico, how's things?"
"Fine Ben, want a beer?"
"Sure. The family's away, if you wanna come back?"
"That would be great, but another time, okay?"
"Fine. What're you doin' in  town?"
"I came looking for Marshal."
"Down at Twin Pines, so they say."
"Did you see them leave?"
"That's strange Chico, I saw only the Marshal leave, real early yesterday morning."
"Was he heading out towards Twin Pines?"
"That's strange too, Chico, he was headin' out of the north east trail."
They drank their beer and Jose, excusing himself, left the saloon.

Jose headed home, eager to talk to Sanchez. Was he behaving like some love-sick kid? His brother would know what to do.  He rode into the corral, handed his horse to one of the hands and hurried into the house.
"They're not here Jose," his mother said. "Your father and Sanchez are driving some cattle down to Red Butte."
"When did they say they'd be back, Mama?"
"Papa said not to expect them back until after dark."

                                                                Chapter 16

Viking had set up tables of food and booze beside the corral. The hands had now been drinking for an hour or more and he judged them to be just about ready for his treat. He grinned to himself as he made for the barn. He pulled open the doors and led Bradburn out into the corral by his roped balls like a prize bull. The hands stared in silence and Viking was beginning to wonder if he'd misjudged the moment, when Walt yelled,
"Jeez, would you just look at that ass, boys." There were a couple of whistles and another voice piped up,
"Why Walt, reckon you've got enough pecker to give it what it deserves?" There was an explosion of laughter and cheering, and in the din, Walt's reply was inauduble but his grabbing his cock through his levis was answer enough. When the hubbub had died down, Viking bawled,
"Where do you want the faggot, Walt?"
"Tie his wrists to the lower bar of the fence, Boss."
Walt licked his lips as he looked at the big man bent over with his legs kicked wide apart and his big balls swinging between his hairy thighs. Just how I like 'em he thought as he eased out his cock.
"Come on Walt, give it to him." a hand yelled and Viking watched the men, flushed and bright-eyed, as they all cheered. Most were aroused and he smiled as he looked at the straining cocks. This was going to be some party. Walt gave Bradburn a good hard fuck and when he pulled out and swaggered up to Viking his still hard cock bobbing in front of him, another cowboy took his place. Viking handed him a very large rye.
"Jeez boss, that was great. The faggot was pushing back to meet me. Must give him another one."
"Why not, we've got all night.. But let the other guys have a go first," Viking replied and grabbing Walt's cock pumped it a couple of times.The half-drunk cowboy's eyes widened with surprise and his mouth dropped open as Viking's other hand grabbed his ass.
"Let's go to the barn Walt, I'll bring the bottle."
"Not so sure Boss, this ain't really my thing," Walt said as Viking put an arm around his shoulders and led his away.

Wednesday, 22 January 2014

The Marshal Page 13

page 13
Viking walked around to the back of the barn, with Corky beside him, and stopped in front of Walt. He look at the pile of oiled tackle then at the damp patches on the dandy ground and said,
"Seems you've been doin' more wankin' than work, you horny bastard."
"Sorry boss, but by the way you was sortin' out that arrogant son-of-a-bitch in there, I couldn't help it."
Viking looked down at Walt's ever ready cock and smiled to himself. It was high time he gave the bastard another plugging. But this time he'd make sure he was sober.
"Okay Walt, there's a hell of a lot to do on the ranch today. But I want you to stay here."
"But won't you need.."
"No Walt, I want you to keep an eye on the Marshal in there." Walt's eyes lit up.
"Oh sure boss."
"Cut him down, clean him up a bit and give him something to eat. Pull or suck him off if'n you want, but I don't want him fucked understood? If he's still dribblin' spunk when I get back tonight I'll horse-
whip you." Walt nodded. "And see he's hog-tied."

                                                                   Chapter 14

Bradburn lay on his side, his wrists tied behind his back and roped to his ankles. The ranch hands had returned about two hours ago and he'd heard them going to the chuck house.It was pitch black in the barn and he was cold and stiff.  Suddenly he heard a soft footfall and, craning his neck, saw Viking enter the barn carrying lamp. He bent down and untied Bradburn's ankles. "Okay, on your feet mister." The Marshal climbed painfully to his feet and winced as coarse rope was wrapped around his cock and balls, and knotted tightly.He began to pound tro full erection and grunted as he was yanked roughly by his balls to the barn door. Viking led him into the small foreman's cabin and putting down the lamp, bolted the door. He turned and looked at his big bearded captive, naked but for his boots. Bradburn stood, legs wide braced, arms tied behind him, his huge roped cock jutting out and the big glans gleaming in the lamplight. Viking snatched up some rope and. grabbing Bradburn by the shoulders, shoved him down onto the bed. He roped the Marshal's neck to the bedstead, effectively immobilising him while he undid his wrists, and then also secured them to the brassd rails. Finally he removed the rope from Bradburn's throat and began to strip off his clothes with trembling fingers. He'd had a score of men tied to his bed like this but none had inflamed his lust like this tough bastard. He looked at his big, hard sculpted buttocks and the deep hairy crack and groaned inwardly.

Bradburn bit into the pillow in despair. His body, thrumming with excitement and almost aching for the blond cowboy's touch, would not be denied. Viking lowered his body onto him and he stifled a moan, then felt the cock, like a huge iron bare, press against his sphincter. His ring flared open and his ass rose up to meet the excruciating lunge of entry. He gave loud grunt as Viking slammed in, then felt the big balls pressed against his buttocks.
"Christ you horny faggot," Viking whispered in his ear before he drew back.
"Now my little filly, I'm gonna give you the ride of your life."

Laying in Walt's hairy arms, Corky could hear, faintly, the animal grunts coming from the foreman's cabin.  He felt himself hardening and, reaching back, grabbed the sleeping cowboy's lovely cock. Walt was awake in an instant.
"Come on cowboy, we ain't even started yet." Walt chuckled,
"I sure as hell like a guy who can't git enough."

Bradburn woke to find himself hog-tied and lying on the barn floor again. From the light pouring in he guessed the sun had been up for some time. He only had a faint recollection of being brought back to the barn but he'd never forget the night that had passed. Viking had fucked him relentlessly and he'd lost count of the times that he'd fired his load.He'd been hauled into different positions and the mattress had become sodden with their spunk and sweat. And still the ficking had continued, hard and remoreless. Bradburn had lost all sense of time and had floated in a sea of ecstasy until sleep and total exhaustion has finally claimed them both.

Viking marched into the chuck house, where the ranch hands were sitting at the rough wooden tables, finishing the breakfast. They all looked up with surprise and someone muttered,
"Jeez its a fucking wonder he can still stand."
A couple of men sniggered and Viking, ignoring them, helped himself to a pile of ham and eggs. Spotting Corky, sitting alone with Walt, he dropped his plate onto their table and sat on the bench opposite them. He shovelled food into his mouth for a few minutes, then, looking up, saw the expression on Corky's face.
"If'n you're gonna say what I think you're gonna say, shutup."
"Aw relax Viking, I was only gonna say you look real good. Sex sure agrees with you."
"Thought you'd have noticed that before, of all people. Now shut up and eat your breakfast."
They sat in silence and, pushing his empty plate aside, Viking got himself some coffee. He didn't rejoin them  but standing in the middle of the room shouted,
"Okay, men, listen up."
Seeing he'd got their attention he continued,
"Today's gonna be a bit special. I want you all back at the ranch an hour sfter noon.I sent Dave down to Tyler for a wagonload of booze. We're gonna have us a party."
Waiting for the loud cheers to die down, Viking yelled again,
"And I've got a real treat lined up for you. So git y'r asses out there and earn it."
The laughing hands began to leave and Walt, with Corky beside him, also made for the door. Viking looked at the horny cowboy's tight, beautifully rounded ass and smiled to himself.

Viking's boot thudded into Bradburn's side , and he yelled,"On your feet asshole." Then he grabbed the rope, still knotted around the Marshal's balls, dragged him across the barn, and tied him to a post. He found the iron rod again and, spreading Bradburn's legs wide apart, roped his ankles to it. Sripping off his shirt, he took up Bradburn'a heavy, studded belt, which he'd cast aside, and once more wrapped it around his fist as he stood before the Marshal.
"Ready to submit?"
"You will," Viking snarled and swung the belt at the big roped balls. Bradburn's body jerked against his bonds and he gave a yell of pain and surprise. "You bastard," he gasped, then his body twitched
and jerked as Viking lashed his balls. He grunts became louder and after a dozen blows Viking stopped.
"They're coming on nicely," he sneered. "A guy shouldn't wear a buckle his big Marshal, unless he's man enough to take it."
For a second Bradburn's brow creased in puzzlement, then his eyes widened as Viking's intent became clear.
"Christ, No, Ohlson, please.."
"No so arrogant now. are we Marshal," Viking smirked, rewinding the belt around his fist, this time with the big buckle hanging free. Bradburn stared at the belt, and when he raised his eyes, Viking saw the first trace of fear in them.
"I can see you know what's coming. You can submit and save yourself a lot of pain or show me what a big tough man you are."
"You're still all mouth Ohlson," Bradburn snarled. Then Viking saw the fear in the Marshal's eyes had gone, and they now gleamed with excitement.
"Do it. Finish me, you fucking bastard."

Saturday, 18 January 2014

The Marshal Page 12

page 12
thought about it, whether it was this or the pain that made him scream. He only knew that the excitement could no longer be denied and he grit his teeth in a vain attempt to stifle his cries as he was flogged, hard and remorselessly. Walt listened to the crack of the whip and the yells of the big butch Marshal and, with a curse, reached for his cock.

                                                                Chapter 12

Stripped to the waist and sweating, Jose mucked out the last stall. Abe had said he'd be out here at noon. It was long past that now and the empty ache that he always got in the pit of his stomach when he was going to see Bradburn in the barn, had gotten worse. Sanchez appeared at the doorway,
"Want a hand, little brother?"
"Thanks no, I've just about finished."
Sanchez waited while Jose put up the rake and donned his shirt. Then the two brothers strolled across the corral towards the homestead.
"I expected Abe a couple of hours ago. Guess something turned up."
"He's in an unpredictable profession, Jose, you know that."
"Sure, I know that, and also a dangerous one."
"He's a big tough man, he can take care of himself."
"Yes, I guess so. But if Papa can spare me, I going to ride into Tyler tomorrow afternoon."

                                                             Chapter 13

Viking had got his blood. It made fine filigree patterns as it oozed from the welts and into the deep channel made by the thick slabs of muscle either side of Bradburn's spine. Then it trickled down, through the hairy crack between the Marshal's lashed buttocks and dripped onto the rough stone flags.
Viking had dished out plenty of floggings but none so hard and sustained as this. Bradburn had bucked, writhed and yipped but had made no pleas for mercy. Viking felt a grudging respect as he wondered just how much more it would take to whip this tough bastard senseless.In any event it would mean cutting Bradburn very badly and that would not do if he was to get his gold and be rid of the son-of-bitch. Reluctantly he lowered the whip and Corky shouted,
"Come on finish the bastard."
Viking tossed the whip onto a bench and strode across to the stove,
"He's taken enough for now. I want him to be able to appreciate this," he said, taking up the branding iron and walking round to face Bradburn. He held it up inches from the Marshal's head,
"Ready to suck cock and lick my boots, or do I have to give you this mister Marshal sir?"
Bradburn could feel the heat of the red-hop iron on his face but his dark eyes held Viking's unwaveringly.
"Fuck off," he sneered.
"Tut, tut, mind your manners," Viking mocked as he sauntered round behind the naked, spreadeagled
man and held the iron an inch from the Marshal's hairy right buttock.
"Are you deaf, you dumb Swedish asshole, I said fuck off," Bradburn shouted, his voice hoarse with excitement. There was a loud hiss and the Marshal's body went rigid as the iron was pressed against his ass. He made a strangled sound, then went limp as it was withdrawn, leaving a brand, some four inches square.
""Now that's real pretty," Viking laughed, looking at the 'D ' superimposed on a 'Y' which was the Dayton mark. He put the brand carefully back in the corner before strutting around to face Bradburn.
"What have you got to say for yourself now, Marshal?" Bradburn lifted his pale tear-streaked face but said nothing. Flogged and branded the big tough man was broken, Viking thought, but he don't know it yet. He looked down at the huge drooling cock and smirked as he unbuttoned his fly. And now it was time to show him.
"That's a nice big piece of meat you've got there Marshal, but it ain't got nothin' on this, EH"
Bradburn had seen the bulge in  the blond cowboy's pants enough times to know he was well hung but the actuality made him gape. Hard, cut and thick, it must be nearly twelve inches, he reckoned, as he watched Viking ease out a pair of balls, equally awesome.
"That's right Marshal, get a good look at what you've got coming," Viking sneered, savouring the look of naked fear on Bradburn's face.

Corky watched Viking pump his cock a couple of times before he prised open Bradburn's whipped buttocks,
"Christ Viking, you're not gonna take 'im dry? You'll kill him."
"No I won't, anyways, I think this is what this sick bastard's been wanting for years, eh Marshal?"
Viking pressed his enourmous glans against the tight little virgin sphincter. Bradburn began to sweat  and he tried to loosen his ass muscles, knowing instinctively, that he had to make the entry as easy possible, or face serious injury. But his body, with a conscience of it's own, was doing just that and he was aware of an ache of delicious anticipation. He felt rough hands grip his hips and he was yanked back as Viking made a mighty thrust forward. Bradburn screamed as the glans burst through his tight ring of muscle and half the thick shaft bored up into him. The pain was excruciating and as he felt Viking shunt back he sobbed,
"No, for Christ's sake, stop,  please.. you're...! In answer, Viking lunged again, even harder, driving his cock in, up to his balls and Bradburn screamed again.
"Got yah, Marshal," Viking growled and he pulled back and began to fuck Bradburn, his strokes long and deep. The stabs of pain merged with the glorious sensation welling up from his battered prostate
and he threw back his head and grunted in unison with Viking's powerful thrusts. Viking felt Bradburn pushing back to meet him and he fucked even harder. Corky watching the two big sweating men in awe, noticed Bradburn's grunts growing sharper and louder and his big cock begin to twitch. Suddenly he yelled and started firing thick gouts of spunk and a moment later Viking roared as he too exploded.

Viking clung to Bradburn until the last of his spasms had passed, then he pulled out roughly and turned to Corky with a grin on his flushed face,
"Okay, let's see what you can do." Corky walked around to face Bradburn and pulled out his cock, gloating,
"I should have strung you up and given you this ages ago, you big-balled bastard."
"Go to hell you traitorous little snake."
"Still mouthin' off," ain't he" Corky said to Viking.
"Don't worry, I'll knock that out of him tomorrow. Now fuck him, it you're going to."
"Sure, take it easy will yah."
"Listen Corky, I've got a ranch to run remember?"
"Okay, okay," Corky replied and, movng behind Bradburn, saw the spunk oozing out of his ass.  He positioned himself and pushed. Bradburn was still tight but well lubed now and Corky slid in smoothly.
"Oh Boy, that's good," he murmured and started to fuck, with short fast thrusts that Bradburn found very painful. He grit his teeth and kept his body rigid, not wanting to give Corky the pleasure of knowing. Luckily the red-headed Deputy was very excited and Bradburn did not have to endure the discomfort for more than a minute or so, before Corky came.

Thursday, 16 January 2014

The Marshal Page 11

Page 11
                                                            Chapter 10

As the office boy carefully glued the flimsy tapes of paper, carrying the messasges to the yellow forms, the telegraph began to chatter briefly. He went to the machine and saw that a message was coming in from Twin Pines, a town some fifty miles east, addressed to Virgil Makepeace at the Mercantile. It was very short and read


Makepeace was a rich and infuential man and assigned to take over law enforcement in such a
contingency as this. The boy left the other messages, stuck the tape to a form and, putting it into  ayellow envelope, hurried to the Mercantile.

                                                         Chapter 11

"Don't see that's any of your business, Walt." Viking said with a faint smile. "Git back to work, you can see all you want tomorrow when we've finished with him.
"Ahh come on boss, I jist want t o see his pecker, then I'll go." Corky grinned, he'd taken a liking to this very sexy  man.
"Come on Viking, what's the harm? Let him stay."
"He can stay while I strip the bastard, but after that I want him out to keep an eye on the hands, I don't want them all piling in when things start gittin' noisy. Understood Walt?"
"Sure  Boss."
Viking turned back to Bradburn and, opening the waistband of his levis, yanked them open to the crutch, sending buttons flying, and revealing the base of his cock. He dropped to one knee and, as the other two men moved closer to watch, tugged the levis down Bradburn's hairy thighs. Freed from it's confines the huge rigid cock sprang up and slapped the Marshal's hairy belly. Walt whistled. It was not only beautifully shaped, immensely thick and deeply flanged. It was gleaming with sweat and the big shiny glans oozed precum. As Walt stared, Viking took his knife from his belt and ripped and cut the tough denim from Bradburn's legs before flinging the torn levis into a corner. Hoping that he'd been forgotten, Walt stood quietly, as Viking rummaged among the branding irons, stakes and odd bits of farm implements. He pulled free a metal rod, some six feet long, the use for which was no longer known, and, yanking wide Bradburn's legs, roped his booted ankles to it. Walt felt his guts twist with lust as he looked at the spreadeagled Marshal, naked except for his boots and the big metal star, pinned to his bloody right nipple. Bearded, hard, hairy and muscular, he stood defiantly, his big drooling cock jutting out impressively. They all gawped in silence for a very long moment before Viking turned to Walt,"
Okay mister, you've had yer look, now git."
With a sigh, Walt turned to go. He pushed the barn doors to and dropped the latch before walking to the back of the barn and sitting again on his log. He picked up a piece of dirty tackle, looked at it for a moment, then, with a groan, tossed it back onto the tangled pile. Careful not to tear the paper thin denim, he unbuttoned his fly and eased out his hard cock.

"Now you're gonnas git the whippin' you've been asking for," Viking sneered, waving the heavy bullwhip on Bradburh's nose.
"Mouthing off again, you bastard, get on with it," the Marshal snarled, as his body began to shake. He knew now with utter certainty that this was what he'd always wanted. But what he was not sure of was if he could take it? Viking made no reply but brought the whip down hard scross the rippling muscular back. Bradburn gasped as a line of fire was drawn over his shoulders, then groaned as another burned across his ass. Excitement surged up, fever hot, as the lash bit into his back even harder and he groaned again.The pain was exquisite and he knew that he could take it, savour it, if he could keep a rein on the blazing excitement.

Viking swung the ther wehip hard, cutting fiery lines, diagonally, down Bradburn's back and across his hairy buttocks. Lust and excitement surged through him too, and as the Marshal began to grunt and buck, he was tempted to lash even harder. But he knew that the bullwhip could cut the flesh from Bradburn's backbone. The Mexicans would not take a badly maimed slave and his plan to deliver Bradburn into bondage and a life on pain and degradation would fail. He hardened his resolve, he'd get bis blood eventually.

Corky stood relishing the expression on Bradburn's pain etched face but when his head dropped back between his outstretched arms he moved around to watch the whip lashing his muscular back.
"Come on, give it to the bastard," he yelled and Viking lowered the whip.
"Why don't you make yourself useful."
"There's a stove over yonder and some kindlin'," Viking said, massaging his right biceps. Corky looked perplexed.
"Why, it ain't cold?"
"Light it bonehead, then look in that corner for a nice iron." Corky's face brightened,
"Jeez, you mean you're gonna...?"
"Yeah,"Viking replied and strode across to a cluttered shelf and lifted a small stone flagon by it's ring handle. Supporting it on his raised forearm he took a couple of swigs of the fiery spirit as Corky got the small iron stove lit.  He took another swig and Corky called from the corner, holding up an iron,
"How about this 'n?"
"I guess it'll do, put it in the heat and come over here." Viking said, pulling a cheroot from a pack on the shelf and lighting it Corky joined him and as he took a swip from the flagon, Viking flung an arm around his shoulders.
"Reckon Virgil's got the telegram from Twin Pines," Corky asked?
"Sure, Pete rode down there yesterday," Viking replied exhaling smoke. "Relax he won't let us down. This donkey-dicked bastard will be out of the territory before he's missed." Corky put an arm around Viking's waist and studied the fiery welts across Bradburn's back and ass.
"We gonna brand him now?"
"Not yet Bonehead. See how I've hatched him right to left?"
"Yeah, looks kinda neat."
"Sure, when I've had me another couple of slugs, I gonna hatch 'im from left to right. Then you'll hear the bastard holler."
"Reckon we should gag him?"
"No, I want the whole fuckin' ranch to hear."
"This I wanna hear and I guess it gives the iron time to get hot."
"You're learnin' kid," Viking said with a smirk, and lifted the flagon again.

The first lash across the oozing welts on Bradburn's back was excruciating and he gave a yell of pain.
"Not so tough now are we Marshal," Viking sneered, swinging the whip again. "Let's hear you bawl like a baby."
The excitement surged up again and Bradburn wouldn't have known, even if his fevered mind had

Back Alley Abush 2

Wednesday, 15 January 2014

The Marshal Page 10

page 10
"Corky, where did Walt put the Marshal's shirt?" Taken by surprise, it took a few seconds before he could recall where he'd last seen it.
"He left it on the corral fence I think."
"Good, go git it for me."
"Sure," Corky replied and, puzzled, left the barn. He saw it at once on the fence beside the gate and, as he strode across the corral, heard the crack of the belt again. Picking up the damp shirt, he lifted it to his nose and deeply inhaled the sharp raw smell of male sweat. At times, back at the Jailhouse, he'd smuggled one of Bradburn's dirty shirts into his room and sniffed it while he wanked. No anymore, you bastard, he thought as he headed back to the barn.

Viking was again lashing Bradburn's nipples, now with all his might and the Marshal was grunting, his chest and belly an angry red. Lowering the belt, he turned to Corky and said, "I guess I've fixed those tits real good, reckon' I could fry 'n egg on them." Then taking the shirt he continued, "Why don't you give them a little tweak?"  Corky stepped forward and, as he gripped Bradburn's paps between his thumbs andf forefingers, looked at the belt-reddened pecs. The were peppered with scores of tiny marks, most oozing small beads of blood, where the sharp studs had punctured the skin. Bradburn had lowered his head and Corky up into the pale face. The black brows weere knotted in a scowl of pain over the dark angry eyes but the lips under the thick moustache were a tight line of defiance. "I'll take that look off your face, bastard," Corky grated, and gave the tortured nipples a savage twist. The lips peeled back from Bradburn's clenched teeth and he moaned as his paps were wrenched and twisted viciously. Corky still stared into Bradburn's face as he began to saw the tender nipples with his jagged fingernails.The eyes slitted in pain, the mouth parted a fraction and the Marshal whimpered as his pelvis thrust forward. Corky felt the large glans press again his belly as he sneered, "That's better you turd."
"Okay, that's enough," Viking barked and Corky gave the nipples a last ferocious wrench before releasing them. But his annoyance was forgotten when he saw what Viking held in his hand.
"Oh Boy, that's beautiful," he said with a laugh. He glanced back at Bradburn and saw that his face was flushed and his eyes gleamed strangely as he looked at his big heavy Marshal's star held in Viking's big hairy fingers.

Bradburn kept very still as Viking approached him but his body flinched involuntarily as he felt the blunt badge pin pressed against his right nipple. "Hey ain't that the wrong side," Corky called?
"No, he won't be a man when we've finished with him. He'll be no better than 'n brood-mare." Corky laughed and, as the tough skin of the Marshal's nipple yielded, and the badge pin was driven through it, Bradburn threw back his head and groaned. There was only a trickle of blood at first but when Viking roughly hooked in the pin and let go, the heavy buckle pulled on the pierced nipple and two larg beads appeared and oozed down Bradburn's body. The Marshal slowly lowered his head and glared at Viking, who stood before him, arms folded and legs wide apart, the familiar sneer on his face.
"If your gonna flog me, why don't you get on with it, you sick bastard."
"Before I do, I think you should know what I'm gonna do with you afterwards." Bradburn made no reply and Viking laughed, enjoying himself immensely.
"I'm selling you to some Mexican slavers who'll ship you across the Gulf, to Louisiana." Bradburn's
face went ashen.
"My God, you can't be serious, I'm a white man for Christsake."
"Seems they ain't perticular. Sides, they want white guys for a stud farm. You'll be there about six months, depending  on your performanace, then you'll be handed over to the male black slaves. They'll put you to work, when your no takin' care of their needs."
"|Needs," Bradburn yelled? "You can't mean, ...Oh Christ."
"But I do mean, Marshal, those black boys are kept segregated and are plenty horny, by all accounts."
Bradburn's blood ran cold as he realised that this was to be Viking's terrible vengeance.
"Pity we shan't be there to see it, eh Corky?"
"You can't get away with this," Bradburn yelled, knowing full well that they could.
"Oh yes we can. Tomorrow night you'll be on your way to a new career." Corky laughed and Bradburn turned his head to look at him. The laughter didn't reach the eyes, that we blue ice.He could expect no mercy there. Viking smirked and said, "Don't be too miserable Marshal, cos we want you to dance in the barn." Bradburn's brow furrowed in puzzlement, "Huh?"
"Yes you bastard, bollock-naked at the end of a whip," Corky sneered.
"You little son-of-a-bitch," Bradburn hissed through clenched teeth and Corky stepped forward and slapped him hard. From now on you'll only speak when permitted, UNDERSTOOD," he snarled, augmenting the last word with a backhander. Bradburn glared defiantly at Corky and growled, "Fuck
off." Corky snapped the Marshal's head back and forth with a series of vicious slaps. Blood oozed from the side of Bradburn's mouth and he could taste it, salty on his tongue. "I said, understood," Corky repeated menacingly.
"You heard, fuck you asshole," Bradburn snarled.
"Bastard," Corky screamed and drove his fist into the Marshal's balls  with enough force to slam him back agsainst the post. Bradburn sagged as the new pain surged through him.
"That's enough, stop pounding his bollocks," Viking yelled. Corky, in a frenzy of excitement, paid no heed and drew back his arm for another punch. Viking gripped his wrist and flung an arm around Corky's neck.
"Calm down you stupid fucker," he shouted, feeling the ginger man shaking in a paroxysm of sadistic lust. Slowly the trembling subsided and Viking murmured,
"That's better, go easy, eh?"
"Sure," Corky whispered, as Viking released him.
"Okay, let's get this bastard stripped 'n strung-up. You'd better get Walt to give us a hand, he won't be far away the horny little stoat." The stubble-chinned man was behind the barn, sitting on an up-turned log, oiling tacke. He rose and Corky saw as he approached that he was in an even more aroused state than usual.

They ran ropes through two sturdy eye-bolts set five feet apart in an overhead rafter. Bradburn put up a fierce fight and Viking had, relectantly, to knee him again in the balls to subdue him long enough for them to draw his bound wrists up over his head. By the time they had finally secured Brdburn, they were all sweating freely and Walt whispered, "Christ was a man." He wiped perspiration from his forehead and eyed the heavily muscled torso. Then his eyes dropped to Bradburn's groin and he added softly, "and when I we goin' to see the whole fuckin' works?"

Back Alley Ambush 1

re Americana

Sunday, 12 January 2014

The Marshal Page 7

Page 7
furiously, the bond cowboy managed to buck Bradburn off, roll over and get to his feet. Whirling round to face the Marshal, who was already up waiting for him, he took a terrific punch on the point of his jaw. He was thrown backwards, cannoned off a pillar, and landed on his ass, ears ringing and head spinning.  He scrambled away from Bradburn on all fours in panic. He'd kicked many a man senseless and expected to feel the thud of the Marshal's boot at any moment.

The red mist dissipated and Bradburn's battle rage ebbed as he looked down at the scuttling cowboy But his ice cold anger remained. He hauled Viking to his feet and gave him a hard jab in the belly. The coyboy's legs sagged but he didn't go down and Bradburn struck him on the side of the head. The force of the blow spun Viking round and he crashed onto a vacant table, reducing it to matchwood, and sending chairs flying. Again Bradburn pulled him to his feet and struck him an almighty back-
hander. For a moment Viking swayed, then went down onto his back, like a felled lodgepole pine, senseless. The was a long silence, then the men gave a huge cheer.  Corky battled his conflicting emotions, principally lust and anger, and managed to cheer with them.

Bradburn became aware of the pain of his battered body as he bent over the unconscious cowboy. He poked two fingers into Viking's shirt pocket and drew out a fold of notes. He peeled off two, replaced the rest and suppressed a groan as he straightened up. The was silence and the clump of his boots sounded very loud on the wooden floor as he strode to the bar and everyone heard him say to the bartender, "With apolgies from my friend, he hopes that this will cover the damage." There was a roar of laughter and cheering as Bradburn grabbed Viking by his shirt and dragged him out of the saloon and tipped him off the sidewalk into the sandy street. Again he gritted his teeth against the stabbing pain of his bruised ribs as he straightened up and marched back inside. He raised his hand for quiet, "Okay gentlemen, please be seated again. We've got a meeting to attend to." Bradburn's shirt had been all but ripped off in the fight and Corky saw that his face was covered with blood, which dripped through his black beard and trickled down his hairy chest. As he turned to walk towards him, Corky thought Bradburn's cock had never looked so awesome and he felt lust twist his guts.

Bradburn dropped into the seat beside Corky, who threw an arm around his shoulders. "Wow Abe, that was some fight," he said, managing a passable grin. "But I guess you need a bit of cleaning up."
"Sure, but don't fuss," Bradburn replied as he saw a woman heading towards him with a bowl and towels. "Now be quiet, there's a meeting on.

                                                                     Chapter 7

Slumped low in the saddle, Viking rode slowly out of Tyler. As he passed the Livery, Corky's buddy came riding into town. Good-looking dude, he thought as the handsome hispanic passed him and although his whole body ached, he felt his cock stir. He gave a rueful smile, it'd take more than a beating to keep his pecker down. Sure he'd recover soon enough but his wounded pride would take longer. When the hands heard about the fight he knew that he'd have to kick ass real hard to keep his position. But he knew that he was better'n any guy up at the ranch and he'd enjoy showing 'em. He brightened considerably.

Jose climbed the steps outside the saloon and confronted the big guy barring the door. Involuntarily his eyes dropped to the impressive bulge between the man's legs. and he smiled to himself. Despite having a wife and a mistress here in Tyler the man regularly visited the bordello in Red Butte, and was still horny enough to give Jose a good hard poking in the barn on occasions. The guy saw the direction of Joe's gaze and when he looked up again grinned, "Its been a while, Chico."
"Sure has, Ben," Jose laughed and added, "Isn't the meeting over yet?"
"No, that blond bastard from Daytons came bursting in here a while back, causing trouble. Marshal had to sling him out."
"I saw him leaving, look like a house had fallen on him."
"Sure there was a real dust-up."
"Is.....," Jose paused, he was going to ask if Abe was okay. Instead he said, "Is it okay if I go in?"
"I guess so, they're jist about finished."
Taking a deep breath, Jose pushed  through the doors. He saw Abe's battered face and, affecting only
mild interest strolled across to the bar. He bought a beer and moved across to take the vacant seat at Bradburn's table. "Okay, I've seen the other guy," he whispered.  Bradburn managed a grin, despite his sore face, and as Jose turned to Corky, he saw the Deputy give the Marshal a fleeting look of pure
hatred. Bradburn didn't seem to notice, and as he listened to a town worthy winding up the meeting, Jose tried to convince himself that he'd imagined it. As the men began to disperse, Bradburn rose to his feet, "I'm gonna get back 'n have a soak and find some clean clothes. See you guys later."
"Sure ," Corky replied as he watched the Marshal stride out. Turning his attention back to Jose, he remarked casually,
"Ain't seen you up at the waterhole for a while."
"No there's a lot to do  at the ranch," Jose replied carefully. I bet there is, Corky thought.
"But I hear you're spending a lot of time up there," Jose added.
Taken off guard Corky flushed, "What if I do?" Then a thought struck him, had they been seen.
"Who says so?"  he snapped, his voice rising.
"Oh, Abe mentioned that you're doing a lot of fishing lately," Jose replied calmly and saw again the look of hatred on Corky's face when he mentioned Bradburn's name. It was gone in a minute  and Corky's handsome face creased into an apologetic smile. "Sorry Jose, I jist thought that someone had been snoopin' on me." Jose nodded and bought another drink, keeping his unease to himself.

"Corky continued to spend most of his spare time up at Red Rock, swimming, fishing and wanking.
"He'd got the hots bad for the big blond bastard. He longed to again be impaled on his huge pole, to be crushed and subjugated. Then bad weather moved in, and storms lashed Tyler. The incidents of crime, low at the best of times, dropped to zero and the Marshal spent a lot of time up at the Rugero ranch. For day after day, it was impossible to work outside in the torrential rain and frequently Bradburn and Jose found themselves alone in the barn. Constrained by a sense of propriety, however, the never stayed long enough for their absence to become embarrassing to the family. They would kiss and Bradburn's rough hands would begin to tentatively explore and caress Jose's hard muscular body, before Jose would suck the huge balls into his mouth and roll them on his tongue.  And when the thick choking spunk hit the back of his throat, Jose could feel a little of the potent power dammed up in the big virile man begin to break free. Soon the floodgates would be swept aside and Jose was content to wait.

With crossed arms, Corky leaned against the wall under the Jailhouse porch, watching the rain drumming down. The street, under eight inches of swirling muddy water, was deserted. Suddenly
he saw the huddled figure of a drenched horseman approaching. The horse's head hung low as the man pulled the wretched soaked creature up in front of Corky and said, his voice barely audible above the hiss of the rain,
"Boss sez e'll see yah at the rock at noon on Tooosdey." Corky felt a surge of excitement and before he could make any reply, the man dug in his heels and the weary horse plodded on towards the Livery.

The rain fell unabated. No right-minded man would be out in this, Corky thought, as he led his horse down the rocky track, wet and treacherous, towards the river. That is, unless he wants to be fucked real bad. He tethered his horse and squelching his way to the old shack, mounted the creaking steps to the porch and pushed open the door. Viking was sitting, naked except for his hat and boots, on the old mattress. "Strip, come on, move it," he snarled and as he got to his feet, Corky saw the huge cock, oozing precum and tore at his wet clothes.

"Jeeesus, you've got to be kiddin' Corky shouted. He'd been slapped around even harder than usual, but his aches and pains and the taste of blood on his tongue were forgotten.
"No, I ain't kiddin'"
"If' 'n you think he's gonna ride out to Daytons, strip nakid and let you string him up you must be crazy.!
"An' I ain't crazy neither."
"You come out to the ranch and we'll tell him I'm holding you hostage."Corky gaped.
"We also tell him that I'm gonna flog him and give him a good working over."
"Why the fuck should he let you do that?"
"Christ, you 'r dumb. We tell him that unless he comes and takes what's coming to him you'll get it in his place. Corky's face flushed with excitement.
"Oh Boy, you reckon he'll fall for that?"

"He's got a kinda big brother love for you and you are his deputy. Sure he'll come."
"What 're you gonna do when we've finished with him. You can't just go around kidnapping
 and killing US Marshals.
"Killin's to good for him. There's a gang of Mexican hoodlums dealin'  in white slaves."
"What," Corky yelled, "They ain't got no white slaves in Mexico."
"There's a lot about Mexico you don't know bonehead. They ship 'em to slavers in Louisiana, who use them as studs. Seems half-caste slaves are highly prized."
"Jesus," Corky whispered, feeling his cock hardening. "An' when he...."
"When he's dried up, they put a chain round his neck and send him out bollock-naked with the black slaves to do hard labour and satisfy their needs."
"You mean they can fuck him?"
"Sure they can do anything they like with him. He'll be their whore.
"Christ, I like the sound of that." Corky whispered, his face flushed and his cock hard.

The Marshal Page 9

Page 9
He let is fall and heard the metalic clunk as his badge hit the stony track. As he dropped his stetson, the man with the shotgun, who had followed him down from the ridge, picked up his shirt and caught his hat in mid-air.
"Okay Marshal," he said, "head for the corral yonder, the Boss is waiting for you."

                                                            Chapter 9

Bradburn walked his horse along the side of an outhouse. turned left and there was the large corral. A dozen or so men, some leaning against the fence, some sitting of the top rail, watched silently as he approached As he neared the gate a ranch hand stepped forward and grabbed his horse's bridle, "Okay
Marshal, that's far enough, down." Bradburn climbed down and as the hand led his horse away, turned to face the silent staring men."Wowee, look at that boner," one of the men shouted. Another whistled and several laughed. But the laughter sounded forced, almost nervous and ceased abuptly, seeming to heighten the growing tension. Bradburn marched into the corral and stopped staring. The furthest end was formed by the side of a barn and Corky had been lashed, spreadeagled, ro its wide doorframe. He was naked. except for his boots, and his thick cock jutted out from a thick bush of ginger hair. Bradburnm felt his guts tighten and turned his eyes to look at Ohlson. He was bare-chested and he stood, legs wide apart, his crossed arms making his biceps look enormous. The bulge in his levis had never looked so impressive but it was the bullwhip he held that got Bradburn's attention. "My God, you bastard, if you've..."
"I haven't touched him, Viking snapped.. "This rawhide is for you, if 'n yr man enough to take it. Put yr hands behind yr back."
"Not until you release him."
"I ain't gonna cut him down til you submit." Bradburn squared his shoulders and glared at Viking.
"Okay mister, if that's how its to be," Viking snarled and striding round behind Corky, raised the whip
"No, for Christ's sake," Bradburn shouted and put his hands behind his back. The stubbled man quickly wrapped a length of rope around the hairy wrists and, as he  knotted it roughly, Viking roared with laughter. He flung an arm around Corky's neck and Bradburn was amazed to hear the Deputy   say,  "Told yer Viking, the only brains he's got are between his legs." Corky joined in the laughter and awful truth began to dawn on the Marshal. Vikinmg cut Corky down and,laughter gone, he turned back to look at Bradburn's anguished face. Corky's betrayal was like a knife in Bradburn's guts and  Viking savoured the moment. He sauntered up to the stricken, bound man and sneered, "In Sweden, we say that a man with no brains feels no pain. I hope that's not true Marshal, cos I've got a lot of it lined up for you." Bradburn made no reply as he watched Corky pulling on his clothes. "What d'yah say to that, eh Marshal?" Bradburn turned his eyes back to the man taunting him and Viking saw that they now blazed with anger, as he snarled, "No much Ohlson, you always had a big mouth." Viking
stepped back and gave Bradburn a tremendous backhand which rocked him on his feet then snapped his head back with an equally hard slap. "You'll learn to be nice to me Marshal," Viking said and drove his fist into Bradburn's belly. He grunted and, staggering back a pace, was backhanded and cuffed savagely. Tears welled up in his eyes and his ears rang as bracing himself, he saw Corky come forward and push Viking aside. "Why?" he said looking down into the Deputy's leering face.
"Because I hate your fucking guts, you arrogsnt ape," Corky snapped and brought his knee up hard into the Marshal's balls. Bradburn grunted loudly and as his body bucked forward, Corky's knee came up again, even harder. Viking put a hand on the Deputy's shoulder, "Easy mister, remember where he's goin'. I don't want no riled Mexicans comin' lookin' for me. Sure hurt the son-of-bitch as much as
you like, but don't injure 'im." Corky grinned and slammed his knee again into Bradburn's balls. The Marshal grunted and his body sagged but he did't go down. Pain speared up into his guts, igniting a feverish excitement that surged through his body and he lifted his bearded chin off his hairy chest and slowly straightened up. Corky looked the pale tear-streaked face and saw the excitement glittering in  the dark eyes. As he dropped his gaze to the massive wide-spread thighs and the awesome bulge between them, made by Bradburn's huge bruised balls, a thought, impossible though it seemed, flitted across  his mind. Was this tough bastard asking for it?? But too consumed by sadistic lust to care, he brushed it aside.

Knuckles on hips, Viking watched the young man with growing respect as he twice more drove his knee into Bradburn' bollocks with just the right amount of force. The ranch hands watched silently, most of them a little uneasy at the sight of the punishment dished out to anothers manhood. But when after the sixth blow, Bradburn's legs buckled and he dropped to his knees and pitched forward into the dust,  they gave a ragged cheer. Viking had forgotten they were there and gave a start, "What the fuck are you men still doing here," he shouted? Pointing to the stubble-chinned man he yelled, You, Walt, get the men back to work. We've got a ranch to run."
"Ahh boss, can't we jist..... "
"Do it, or by Christ, I'll horsewhip you." For the first time, Corky looked at the lean, muscular unshaven man and seeing the big glans jutting against the paper-thin denim of his threadbare pants
wondered why he had not noticed him before.
"Okay, Okay," Walt replied, his face a mask of disappointment, as he turned to the hands, "Come on you guys, move it. You heard the boss." Corky watched Walt herd the men away, his eyes lingering
 on the man's tight rounded ass.
"On your feet Bradburn," Viking snarled. As the Marshal pulled himself painfully to his feet, Viking shoved him roughly, "Git in the barn, move."

Viking lashed Bradburn's arms to a stout post, supporting the barn roof. "Dont worry, Marshal, I ain't forgot your flogging. Need to warm you up some so 'un you can 'preciate it.." Then reaching out he grabbed hold of the Marshal's wide studded belt. Bradburn's hairy abs twitched reflexively as Viking undid the large, ornate buckle. Easing the studs through the loops, he pulled the belt free, and grasped it by the buckle. As Bradburn watched him wrap the heavy belt a couple of times around his fist, he knew what Viking was going to do. The excitement that he'd felt when he'd been beaten in the corral,
welled up again. His body had a will of its own and he groaned inwardly as his breathing quickened and he began to sweat. Viking's lips twisted in a snarl of lust as he looked at Bradburn's large plump nipples, jutting from their nests of black hair, and lifted the belt. There was a loud staccato crack as the belt struck the Marshal and he grunted and jerked against the ropes. But it was a reflex action only, not the pain, as the burning sting of the studded belt fuelled his growing excitement. Swinging hard and wide, Viking began to lash Bradburn's pecs. The marshal dropped his head back against the post and held his body rigid as the studs, unerringly, struck his nipples again and again. The sharp stings merged into one burning pain that grew steadily more intense and Bradburn grit his teeth for fear that the exquisite agony would make him blurt out the unthinkable. Then Viking turned his attention to the rest of his chest and slowly worked down over his hairy belly.

Corky was in a feverish state of excitement as he looked at Bradburn's rigid cock srtraining against his levis. The whole area around the jutting glans was soaked with what Corky guessed was spunk until he moved closer and saw that it was precum. Christ, this son-on-a-bitch was horny, th thought, and he recalled his earlier notion. But before he could speculate further, Viking lowered his arm and kneaded his biceps