"COTTONWOOD CREEK SHOWDOWN" M/M/M/M, o&a, reluctant, outdoors

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[or guardian, for external use only, this end up, slippery when]
[wet, this end up, watch for falling rocks and fallen women. ]
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[Copyright (C) 2004 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make]
[paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish, ]
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COTTONWOOD CREEK CONFRONTATION

by Felix Lance Falkon

Ricky moved closer to Quanah, the nineteen-year-old from the
nearby Indian Reservation, until the naked cowboy saw -- and felt
-- the tip of his out-thrust shaft touch Quanah's. Cottonwood
trees towered overhead, blocking the noonday sun. Between the
high banks of the creek, a stir of cool air touched the two young
men's sturdy bodies.

Ricky said, "I dunno, but I think I'm just a mite longer'n
you, Quanah."

"Measure 'em."

"How?"

"Indians supposed to say `How,' not paleface cowboys,
Ricky." Teeth flashed white in a grin across Quanah's red-brown
face. "Get closer, match 'em, like arrows, head to feathers." He
took a pace closer.

Ricky curled his bare hips forward as he felt his cock slide
along Quanah's. Ricky felt and saw Quanah's broad glans nose into
the brush of curly hair at the base of Ricky's prong, felt his
own cock-tip poke the hilt of Quanah's prong. Side by side, two
shafts of hard meat bridged the gap between two supple, muscular
bodies.

"Same length," said Ricky, trying to keep disappointment out
of his voice. He curled his fingers around both shafts. Quanah's
hand tightened on Ricky's, and both organs stiffened even harder
under their combined grip. "Think we could jack off like this?"

Quanah wrinkled his nose. "Too much work. Rather fuck. And
get sucked." He and Ricky released their grip, leaving their
stiff cocks as a double bridge linking them. "We could wrap strap
round bases of both, then pull. See who pulls hardest, who stands
most pain before he quits."

"Or keep pulling till one of us pulls t'other's balls out by
th' roots," said Ricky. "Us cowboys are stubborn bastards." His
fingers strayed to Quanah's testicles.

"See who got strongest eggs and prong, then," said Quanah.
He snorted, "Palefaces no good at real torture. His hands found
Ricky's organs now, probing and squeezing.

"Yeah? Ernie -- one of th' hands at the Ranch -- says he was
in a poker game where they caught a cheat. They stripped him,
tied a rope 'round th' base of his cock, and strung him up from a
rafter, and then went on with th' game."

"He scream much? Hard to think 'bout cards with guy
screaming."

"Not at first. Ernie said they didn't tie his hands."

Quanah frowned. "That wouldn't hurt 'im." He grinned
suddenly. "Oh. I see."

"Right," chuckled Ricky. "He grabbed th' rope and got th'
weight off his balls, but that just put off th' -- th'
inevitable, because his arms got tired, and he'd sink down until
th' rope was pulling at his balls, and then he'd take the' weight
with his arms again, till he got too tired --"

"Pretty good," admitted Quanah. "How long he hang by his
eggs -- his balls?"

"Well, they played a few hands t' divvy up th' cheat's cash
and his clothes while he was holding th' rope with his hands.
Then they switched t' strip poker, so by th' time his strength
really gave out, most of th' guys were naked and had hard-ons.
Ernie said th' guy finally got th' idea and promised he'd suck
off every guy in th' house if they cut him down."

"Sounds good, but us Indians have better tortures," insisted
Quanah. "You know about fire ants?"

"Yeah." Ricky's fingers tightened on Quanah's big balls.
"You mean, you bury a guy up t' his neck in th' ground, and let
th' ants come and eat him?"

"Too much trouble, burying 'im **that* deep."

"They just buried him crotch-deep? And -- and let th' ants
come for his prong and -- and his balls, and eat him alive
**that* way?" Ricky swallowed hard.

"Still too much work. Indians smarter than that." Quanah
grinned. "Grandfather Black Storm tells the story. Many years
ago, four paleface cowboys caught 'im when he was by 'im self.
First they said bury 'im to neck. One of 'em said Black Storm
gotta dig hole.

"Black Storm said that's too much work; just bury prong-
deep, let ants begin there. They found a good ant hill. Black
Storm stripped down, poked ground with shovel, cowboys gather
round. He said ground too hard; they laughed, said he is lazy
redskin. He said, you want me to dig hole or you want me to get
eggs and prong eaten by ants? They said, get eaten by ants. He
said, I do it Indian way.

"Black Storm took some honey that one cowboy had, made trail
from ant hill to log on ground. Cowboys watched real close. Black
Storm jabbed shovel in ant hill; ants ran out, began to follow
trail. Black Storm straddled old log and kneeled down with eggs
and prong at end of honey trail. While ants were coming, he even
made 'is prong get hard."

"Getting a hard-on while . . ." Ricky shook his head.

"While ants were coming, not when they got there and bit
'im," said Quanah. "Cowboys watched real close now, watched while
Black Storm moved 'is hands out of way, watched while ants
climbed on Black Storm's prong and eggs, watched while ants began
to bite. Cowboys watched so hard they didn't see other Indians
come up behind 'em."

"Hey, that is good," said Ricky. "Then they bury cowboys and
let th' ants eat their balls and -- and cocks?"

"Nope. Ants just bit, didn't chew off pieces. Black Storm
jumped up and shook ants off prong. Already been bitten, so he
began to swell, itched like crazy. Because it itched, he rubbed.
Because he rubbed, he got gets hard, only bigger, much bigger,
because of bites. He put grease on, made chief cowboy strip,
fucked 'im. Prong felt better. Cowboy hurt because Black Storm
was so bit. Prong started itching again, he fucked another
cowboy. Fucked cowboys ten, twelve times a day, until prong
stopped itching, swelling went down."

"Lordy," said Ricky. "I think you got me beat with that
story. Still doesn't tell who can stand more pain, though."

"Want to try 'em now? Squeeze each other's eggs, see who
gives up first?"

"Fuck no, Quanah; let's suck. We'd just squeeze 'till we're
both gelded, and it's fucking hard t' come in that condition,"
said Ricky, taking his hands from the sturdy young buck's gonads.

"Okay. Whose turn to go first?"

"Lemme see -- last time --" the young cowboy broke off, and
both youths spun at the sound of footsteps on loose rock.

"Ricky, you double-dealin' little sonofabitch, I'm a gonna
beat you within a inch of your worthless fuckin' life," roared
the newcomer, a burly, black-haired cowboy. "And as fer you, you
shit-faced, no-count, thievin' redskin --" The big cowboy, purple
with rage, brandished a blacksnake whip. "I'm a gonna start by
flickin' your balls off, one bite at a time, with this." He
reached Ricky, aimed a backhand slap that the youth barely
dodged, and yelled, "Nobody sneaks out on Luke, and you're gonna
find that out right fuckin' now!"

"Never catch me alive, paleface!" said Quanah. The naked
Indian youth bounded away.

Luke tossed the whip aside, took a stride past Ricky, and
snatched out his revolver. As he took aim, Ricky grabbed the whip
and whapped Luke, right behind the ear, with all the strength of
his supple body. The big cowboy went down in a heap.

"Okay, Quanah; I got him!" yelled Ricky.

The Indian glanced back, skidded a stop, and loped to
Ricky's side. "Good old redskin trick," he said. He put his right
arm around Ricky's shoulders. "You make good Indian."

"Let's get this bastard under control first," said Ricky.
The naked youths stripped off Luke's shirt and listened for a
heartbeat. Finding he was still alive, they dragged him to a
cottonwood tree, propped him up in a standing position, and tied
him to the tree.

"Now we --" Quanah was interrupted, this time by a rush of
footsteps down the other bank of the tree-shaded creek. A tall,
powerfully built Indian trotted toward them. "Okay, paleface;
sing your death-song. And after I kill you --" he shifted into an
angry torrent of Indian words aimed at Quanah.

Ricky stuck the whip handle into Quanah's hands. As smoothly
as if he'd been rehearsing it for weeks, he yelled, "You'll never
catch me alive, redskin," and started running. He heard a thud
behind him, swung around in a tight loop, and trotted back to
Quanah, who stood over the now unconscious Indian.

"Nice timing," Ricky said. He patted Quanah's shoulder.
"Good old paleface trick. You make a good cowpoke."

Quanah scowled, but his scowl twitched into a grin. In a
moment, both were roaring with laughter. Ricky finally quieted
and turned to their most recent captive.

"Tree too much work," said Quanah. "We tie Red Owl here to
log." In a moment, Red Owls ankles were secured to a sturdy log
that he sat astride, a few feet from Luke's tree, and his wrists
were tied behind his broad back.

"Fuck it all, this spot oughta be neutral ground between th'
Ranch and th' Reservation," said Ricky. "These two bullies both
wanta claim it. Hell -- it's too far away t' be any use t' either
one."

"Good place to suck and fuck and camp out," said Quanah,
slowly. "Good place to find who can stand pain; nobody can hear
'em scream."

"You mean -- yeah, they wanted t' see somebody kilt. We're
gonna have t' do something, seein's how they caught us looking
like this." Ricky gestured at his own nakedness, then at
Quanah's.

"We could run away," said Quanah. He looked thoughtfully at
big, bare-chested Luke tied to the cottonwood tree. "Never get
chance at 'em like this again. Okay; I give you Red Owl, swap for
Luke."

"It's a deal," said Ricky. "Only, 'fore we get started, I'm
gonna see if we got any more guests coming." The young cowboy
scrambled up the steep bank of Cottonwood Creek. There, he saw
that the prairie stretched empty as far as he could see. Nearby,
Luke's horse grazed quietly. Beyond the other bank of the creek,
Red Owl's mount did the same. In a few minutes, Ricky had both
horses tethered with his own and with Quanah's, down by the creek
and well out of sight.

He trotted back to the captives. Quanah had dropped Luke's
pants, baring the big cowboy's powerful legs and massive
genitalia. Ignoring Luke's curses, Quanah was starting a small
fire. Ricky strode to Red Owl, who was beginning to regain
consciousness; stripped him naked; and checked the prisoner's
bonds carefully. They were still secure. Only then did Ricky take
time to survey his prisoner. Red Owl was solidly muscled; his
balls, big and plump with a long, thick cock draped over them.
Ricky looked up and met Red Owl's gaze. The Indian, wide awake
now, thrust his hips forward as if to invite Ricky to take a
closer look.

"Hey, Quanah," said Ricky, "I'm gonna have some fun with
this stud first."

"Why?"

"I dunno; just feel like it. Hey, y' know th' way your prong
gets real tender right after you've shot a load?" "

"Good idea, chuckled Quanah. "Won't have to work so hard to
make 'em hurt, afterward."

Ricky saw alarm flash across Red Owl's face. His expression
shifted to watchful, impassive alertness, but Ricky had already
seen the momentary unease. Ricky grinned, sat down astride the
log, and started to finger Red Owl's organs. The big Indian kept
his face relaxed and indifferent, but his shaft twitched and
lengthened under Ricky's manipulation. A brick-red glans, like a
blunt, rounded arrowhead, slid out of its sheath as the Indian's
cock erected, stiffening to a quivering hard-on.

Ricky leaned forward, bent his head. He put out his tongue
and licked the tip of Red Owl's cock. He opened his mouth wider,
settled lower, and felt the hot glans slide into his mouth.
"Ricky -- damn you -- let go of that redskin and come here and --
Yeow!" Ricky pulled back and looked at Quanah, now standing by
Luke's tree, grinning.

"Squeeze eggs, shut 'im up quick," explained Quanah. He
knelt at Luke's feet and fastened his mouth on the big cowboy's
genitals.

Ricky went back down onto Red Owl's erect prong. This time
he took glans and half the shaft between his jaws, tightened his
lips around the hot meat, and began to suck. Red Owl sat
motionless for a few minutes, hardly moving a muscle. Ricky kept
sucking; at last he felt an answering thrust and pull from the
Indian's cock and strong hips and thighs, meeting each bob of
Ricky's head with an upward jab. Red Owl was breathing hard now
as Ricky sucked him closer and closer toward orgasm and release.

"You suck 'em good, for a paleface," Red Owl panted.

Ricky let the big cock slip from his mouth and looked up.
The Indian's powerful physique was agleam with sweat now, his
muscle-sheathed chest heaving, his face taut. Ricky grinned at
Red Owl, then looked back over his own shoulder to see how the
other two were making out.

Quanah seemed to be enjoying himself; he was sucking hard
and fast, with little snorts and gasps as his head bobbed back
and forth. Luke's muscle-plated stomach was pulled in hard, his
broad chest expanded to the utmost. Ricky caught the big cowboy's
eye; Luke snarled back.

"Pretty fuckin' good cocksuckin' service you bastards are
givin' us," growled Luke. "Maybe I'll only beat ya within two
inches of your fuckin' life."

Quanah pulled his head back, releasing Luke's proud spike,
and asked, "Hey, Ricky, you picked how to do 'em, afterward?"

Ricky glanced at the wet prong that jutted out from Luke's
crotch. "We'll think of something. Hey -- we can find out about
that torture we were talking about -- okay?"

Red Owl sucked in a sudden, deep breath. Ricky glanced at
his captive, but Red Owl's face had gone impassive again. Ricky
heard another burst of cursing from Luke, ending with a yelp. The
young cowboy glanced back over his shoulder again, saw Quanah had
grabbed Luke by the balls once more. With a grin, Ricky turned
back to Red Owl's waiting prong.

The hot meat had softened a bit, but the touch of Ricky's
tongue brought it to full hardness with a surge. Ricky put his
head down and took the cock again; within a few sucking bobs of
his head, Red Owl was panting with excitement.

Luke, still roped to his tree, was shouting now: "Take me!
Suck me! Take me, redskin, take me! **Here* -- I -- **come!!"*

And then Red Owl took an extra deep breath; the powerful
thighs on either side of Ricky's head jerked and went rigid,
every muscle a straining bronze cord. The cock in Ricky's mouth
jumped, jumped again, and gushed out a slippery, swirling flood.
Ricky swallowed. He sucked again on the tense, straining prong;
and more of the boiling juice welled up. He sucked still harder;
Red Owl pulled back an inch, then jabbed his hips and genitals
forward with all the power of his muscular body. Ricky eagerly
milked the last drops from the Indian's shaft, while Red Owl
shuddered and gasped. Finally, Red Owl went limp; and Ricky
decided, reluctantly, that the Indian's balls had run dry.

Ricky raised his head slowly, still sucking as the thick
shaft slid out of his mouth. He sat up, licked his lips
thoughtfully, and met Red Owl's satisfied, sleepy grin. Ricky
grinned back, licked his lips again, stood up, and strolled over
to Luke's tree.

Luke stood, his taut-muscled body jerking spasmodically, as
Quanah sucked, swallowed, sucked for more. Luke groaned, sighed,
panted, and slowly quieted into normal breathing. Quanah sucked
for a moment more, while Luke, relaxed now, looked down at the
Indian working on Luke's cock. As Ricky approached, Luke glanced
up; he had, Ricky saw, the same sleepy, satisfied expression on
his face as Red Owl had. A moment more, and Quanah pulled back
and stood up. Luck's cock was just beginning to relax, but it was
still an impressive piece of meat.

Ricky asked, "How do you like cowboy juice, Quanah?"

"It's okay," said Quanah, rising to his feet. He stretched
his naked body, raising arms over his head in a supple, catlike
yawn. He smacked his lips, glanced down at Ricky's stiff prong.
"Ready to give me another mouthful?"

"Looks like you're real ready too," said Ricky, reaching out
to stroke Quanah's hard-on. He turned to look at Luke, who was
beginning to look angry again. "What about these studs?" asked
Ricky, jerking a thumb at Luke.

"Not polite to make 'em wait," said Quanah. "Fix 'em, then
give me another mouthful cowboy juice."

"Well," drawled Ricky. "I suppose so." He moved to Luke's
side, put a hand on the bound man's balls, slowly tightened his
grip on the big organs until Luke gasped aloud. "He's got plenty
t' work on. How ya planning t' do him?"

"Cook 'im," said Quanah. He trotted to the fire he had
started, picked out a stick that was burning vigorously at one
end, and trotted back to the bound cowboy. While Luke watched in
frozen horror, Quanah took the end of Luke's cock in one hand and
held the blazing torch under Luke's long, thick cock with the
other. "See how long it takes for 'im start screaming."

Luke yelled once, when the flames enveloped his cock; yelled
again when Quanah moved the torch so the flames swirled around
his big balls. Quanah swung the torch away, while Luke stood
motionless, muscles straining across his bared torso, face pale
with shock and horror, watching his pubic hair blaze up and then
crumble to ashes.

Ricky bit his lips, thoughts racing. Inspiration struck.
Putting a touch of impatience in his voice, he said, "That isn't
fair. You got him when he wasn't 'specting it."

"Okay," said Quanah. "Try 'im again." He moved the blazing
torch toward Luke's scorched genitalia.

"Hey!" yelled Luke. "Fer th' love of Mike, please, don't!"

Ricky sighed, then glared at the bound, helpless cowboy.
"What th' fuck, Luke; can't ya do better'n that? I been telling
Quanah here how good us cowpokes are at getting tortured, and
here ya go whimpering like a baby 'fore your balls even start t'
git roasted."

"R-roasted?" Luke went white. "Look, R-Ricky, I -- roasted!
Good Lord! P-p-please?"

"Sure," said Quanah, waving the burning torch at Luke's
massive balls. "Old Indian recipe. Cook 'em on hoof, eat 'em on
the hoof, meat comes out real good and fresh." Quanah patted his
own lean stomach. "Make tasty --"

Luke interrupted with a strangled, "Urk!" He turned even
whiter, and suddenly slumped in his bonds.

Ricky winked at Quanah, then said, "Fuck; th' big sissy's
fainted. Let's go work on mine till he comes to."

"Okay," said Quanah. He grinned broadly, then before he
turned to face Red Owl, the young buck's face went impassive
again. "How you fix 'im?"

"I was thinking of taking some lard I got in my camping
gear," said the young cowboy, as he strolled over to stand beside
Red Owl, who sat astride his log.

"Lard?" asked Red Owl, looking up at Ricky.

"Yeah." Ricky grinned down at Red Owl, whose red-brown face
was just inches from Ricky's out-thrust cock now. "Boil up some
in th' pot, over your fire, and then pour it over this stud's
balls." Ricky saw Red Owl's eyes widen; he suppressed a smile.
"Either that or pile a heap of red-hot coals 'round his prong and
balls, and roast him that way."

"Okay," Quanah said. "I go get; you watch 'em." He trotted
off.

Ricky watched Quanah go, then looked down again. Red Owl was
tense, his face worried. He bit his lips. His tongue flicked out,
quickly ran over his lips, and again, more slowly this time. The
young cowboy stepped back a pace, took a long, careful look at
Red Owl's long cock and massive balls, lying on the log between
his powerful thighs. Ricky ran his hand over his own flat, hard
stomach, smacked his lips with what hopes was a hungry expression
on his face, then moved close again.

Red Owl licked his lips again, thoughtfully. Abruptly, he
opened his mouth wide; his head darted toward Ricky's out-thrust
cock. Wet, warm lips clamped around Ricky's glans; as he watched,
Red Owl took in an inch more and started sucking, awkwardly at
first, but with slowly improving skill and only an occasional gag
or choke when Ricky's thrusts went too deep.

Ricky felt a hand touch his shoulder. He jerked his eyes up,
to see Quanah standing beside him, watching.

"No need lard, after all?" asked Quanah.

"No -- I mean yes." Ricky stepped back, pulling his
quivering prong from Red Owl's mouth. "Thanks, Quanah," he said,
taking the jar of lard. He opened it and scooped up a gob on one
finger. Ricky grinned down at the worried Red Owl as he smeared
the thick grease along his quivering shaft.

"But --" Red Owl followed Ricky with his eyes as Ricky
handed the jar back to Quanah and moved around behind Red Owl.
"Hey -- what -- ?"

"Lean forward -- all th' way," said Ricky. He put his hands
on Red Owl's thick shoulders, forced the big Indian forward.
Since Red Owl's wrists were bound behind him and his ankles were
lashed to the heavy log that he sat astride, he had freedom to
sit up, lean forward, even to lie down with his bare chest and
stomach on the log. This was the position Ricky firmly forced Red
Owl into. "There," sighed Ricky, taking a second to admire his
captive's well-muscled back. "Now I'm gonna try riding your
butt."

When Ricky started to sink his greased cock into Red Owl's
butt, the big Indian tried to rear up. Ricky pushed him down
flat, settled his cock in deeper. He found the tight asshole,
felt clamp tighter as he probed with his glans. "Look, stud,"
Ricky growled, probed harder. Red Owl squeezed tighter. Ricky
looked up at Quanah, and said, "Get me a knife, will ya? This
fucking stallion wants me t' cut him a new asshole, and --" Ricky
felt the opening relax; he thrust hard, and the muscular ring
snapped past the rim of his glans. "Aaaah! Never mind, I'm in!"

And in Ricky was, in with a long, impaling thrust that drove
the full length of his hot prong into Red Owl's asshole. The big
Indian bucked and squirmed; his body was all hard muscle against
Ricky's bare torso and embracing arms. Inside, though, Red Owl
was unbelievably soft, hot, and tight around Ricky's cock. The
young cowboy started to fuck; within a dozen strokes he was
pumping away at full speed, pulling his cock back until the tight
ring gripped the flange of his glans, driving in until his balls
bounced on Red Owl's hard-muscled buttocks, pulling back . . .
Ricky pulled in his stomach, arched himself over Red Owl's bound
wrists and hands. Ricky's chest skidded and slid over Red Owl's
broad back. Ricky rightened his arms around the Indian's chest,
hands clutching the nipples; stroking the hard chest muscles;
tracing the thick layer of pectorals that armored Red Owl's
chest.

Ricky fucked faster. He felt something gathering in the
roots of his own cock, boiling hot, pressing for release. He knew
he had to hold back, to slow down, to make it last; but he
couldn't. The lusty stud clasped in Ricky's arms -- and around
his cock -- was beginning to respond, beginning to meet Ricky's
fucking thrusts, to squirm in his arms, to squeeze tight around
Ricky's prong. He fucked on, faster -- harder -- until suddenly,
he was all the way in, at the breathless moment of release, hands
gripping Red Owl's wide chest, cock jetting out sperm.

Later, a timeless while later, Ricky let his muscles relax.
Still lying on -- and in -- the big Indian, Ricky looked up.
Quanah stood a few paces away. The two young men exchanged grins,
Quanah's tense and eager, a sleepy one of contentment from Ricky.

"Good?" asked Quanah.

"First fucking class," said Ricky. He heard and felt a growl
from Red Owl under his naked body, and gave Red Owl one more
slow, impaling thrust with his still-hard cock. "Gonna take Luke
this way?"

"Too much work, your way," said Quanah, grinning. "I make
'im do the work."

"Need any help?"

"Later," said the young buck, touching his own stiff cock.

"Call me," said Ricky. "I'll be here." He gave Red Owl
another slow thrust with his cock, tightened his hands on the
splendidly muscled chest under him. "This muscle-stud makes a
right comfortable mount, fer -- fer catching your breath."

"Damn paleface kid," growled Red Owl.

"Yeah?" Ricky gave the big Indian another slow, impaling jab
with his cock.

"Damn paleface kid with damn big prong," whispered Red Owl.

Ricky grinned, gave Red Owl a hug, then relaxed completely
on the naked Indian's back.

After a few minutes, in spite of the thrill of having a live
pillow, Ricky felt restless. He tried a few more thrusts with his
cock, decided his~ organs needed a bit more time to recuperate,
and raised his head to see what was going on.

Overhead, the great cottonwood trees were stirring in an
early afternoon breeze. Ricky felt cool air slide over his naked
skin. Off at the other end of the little glade, one of the horses
whickered impatiently. Under Ricky's naked torso, Red Owl
squirmed, then relaxed with a sigh. The young cowboy turned his
head and spotted Quanah doing something to Luke's bonds, just a
few yards away. Ricky started to scramble to his feet, then
remembered his cock was still rammed into Red Owl. He pulled
himself out slowly, inch by inch, feeling and watching his
rubbery meat slide out of Red Owl. A ring of muscle caught the
flange of Ricky's glans. Ricky pulled, felt his cock stretch, and
then his glans snapped free with a startled grunt from Red Owl.

Ricky stood over the big Indian for a moment, then bent to
help him sit up, still astride the log. The young cowboy took a
few seconds more to brush a few pieces of bark from Red Owl's
powerful chest. Their eyes met, held; Red Owl blinked, then
slowly lowered his head. Ricky glanced down too and saw Red Owl's
cock was stiffening again.

"Good," growled Ricky. "You're getting a hard-on ready for
when I get 'round t' trying out a couple tortures."

"W-whatever paleface kid say," replied Red Owl, face calm in
spite of the catch in his voice.

Ricky grinned, touched the Indian's shoulder, then turned
away.~ Quanah, Ricky discovered, had tied the end of Luke's
blacksnake whip securely around Luke's big balls, and was now
untying the ropes binding Luke's ankles. Quanah looked up as
Ricky approached.

"Got 'im on leash, by the balls. Keep arms roped too."
Quanah finished loosening Luke's feet, then while Luke numbly,
obediently shifted his weight from one foot to the other, Quanah
yanked off Luke's boots and trousers. "Okay; how does he look?"

Ricky looked. Luke's heavy-boned body was naked, but for the
ten-gallon hat and a bright red kerchief around his thick neck.
His arms were bound behind his back, his balls secured by the
whip; but he was no longer tied to the tree. Luke looked sullen,
his gaze fixed on the ground.

"Looks good enough t' fuck," said Ricky. "Gonna do him
standing?"

"Nope. Already untied arms from tree, wrists just tied to
each other," said Quanah. "See?" He jerked the whip handle; big
Luke snarled, then reluctantly took a pace forward. "So. Hold
leash while I grease prong."

Ricky took the whip handle; Luke glared at him, snarled
again, and looked down. Quanah deftly spread lard over his own
ready prick, then wiped his hands on Luke's discarded trousers.
The young Indian recovered the whip handle from Ricky, carefully
studied the ground around them, then led Luke by the balls to a
patch of smooth sand near Red Owl's log.

"Ah; good," sighed Quanah, lowering himself to the ground
and stretching out on his back. He tugged on the whip, pulling
his captive to stand over him, glaring downward with a puzzled
frown. "Now, you get fucked," Quanah said. He touched his
upthrust cock with one hand, jerked downward on the whip with the
other. "Take me up ass."

"Th' hell I will!" yelped Luke, his objection cut off by a
yank on the leather looped around his massive testicles.

"You climb on my prong, you keep balls. You don't, I take
'em." Quanah yanked the blacksnake whip again.

Luke snarled. Then, with a sudden sob, he put a big, bare
foot on either side of Quanah's slim hips and slowly knelt
astride the young Indian. Quanah dropped the whip, grabbed Luke
by the balls and guided him into position. Luke hesitated a
second with Quanah's upstanding cock nudging the crack of his~
hard-muscled ass, then slowly, reluctantly impaled himself on
that cock. He yelped once -- Ricky guessed it was when Quanah's
glans popped past Luke's sphincter -- and moaned softly as he
slid the rest of the way down, taking the thick, hard shaft to
the hilt.

Luke now sat astride Quanah, the agonized expression on his
face slowly changing to a sullen scowl. He sucked in his muscle-
ridged stomach, shifted his cock-stabbed hips back, to the side,
then forward again. "God!" the big cowboy gasped. "You're a hard-
cocked little bastard." He sat motionless, eyes almost closed,
until Quanah spoke.

"Come on, paleface; fuck," the young buck growled, as his
fingers tightened on Luke's big balls.

"Look, redskin," Luke growled. "If I -- hey, quit squeezin'
so fuckin' tight!" He took a deep breath; Ricky watched the big
chest expand. "Gimme a chance t' git used t' --"

Red Owl, sitting astride his own log, laughed. Luke jerked
his head around. Tensely, Luke and Red Owl glared at each other.
Luke squirmed his hips, rose slightly, settled back down on
Quanah's cock. He rode the young buck's prong for a half-dozen
more strokes, eyes still locked with Red Owl's; then, without
breaking his coupling rhythm, Luke looked down at Quanah again.

Ricky strolled closer to watch. From behind, he could see
Quanah's stiff shaft driving into Luke's descending, hard-muscled
ass; appearing as Luke bounced up; disappearing into Luke as the
big cowboy impaled himself again. Ricky moved to stand beside
Luke's shoulder, looking down Luke's hard-muscled, sweat-gleaming
torso. Luke glanced up at Ricky, eyebrows knitted in an
expression of complete concentration, then turned back to Quanah,
who lay on his back, his slim hips gripped between Luke's
powerful thighs. Quanah's hips were driving up with every
downward thrust of Luke's body, matching the rugged man's
impaling stroke.

Quanah's eyes focused on Ricky. Quanah grinned; Ricky smiled
back. As Ricky watched, Quanah shifted his eyes to Luke and said,
"Slow down; come too quick."

"Make th' fuck your mind up," said Luke.

Quanah reached for Luke's big balls, and the lusty stroke
obediently slowed. "Ah," said Quanah with a grin as he shifted
his grip to Luke's prong, "paleface gettin' hot."

"Bastard," growled Luke. He squirmed his impaled hips in a
rotary motion. "You want me to shoot my load in yer face,
redskin?" He sucked in his stomach, squirmed his hips again. "If
you don't leggo --"

"You do, you lick it up," said Quanah, but he released his
grip on the stiffening prong.

As Ricky watched, Quanah's hands moved to Luke's thighs,
began to stroke the tense muscles. Quanah's hips started to pump,
jabbing up into Luke with a lusty beat; Luke responded, speeding
his stroke, impaling himself faster and faster while his own cock
jiggled and bounced.

"It's . . . it's been so long since . . . any-fucking-body
. . . Goddamn . . . stud bastard!" panted Luke. "So hot . . .
gittin' pronged . . . fuck . . . redskin stud . . . fuck me . . .
**fuck* me **hard!"*

And under Luke, Ricky realized, Quanah was almost there,
muscles rippling under his bronzed skin, chest heaving, stomach
tensing. Quanah opened his eyes wide -- wider. His whole body
jerked once -- twice -- stayed rigid, then abruptly relaxed. Luke
held himself motionless a few seconds more, then went on riding
the young Indian's hips with a slow, twisting stroke.

"Okay, paleface. All done," said Quanah. "Up."

Luke slowed his impaling stroke to a stop. He sighed --
whether in relief or disappointment, Ricky couldn't tell -- and
staggered to his feet. Ricky caught the big cowboy's shoulder and
steadied him, then reached down and touched Luke's rigidly erect
prong. Their eyes met; after a moment, Luke dropped his gaze and
lowered his head. Walking stiffly, still trailing the whip with
the tip tied around his balls, Luke moved to Red Owl's log and
knelt on the sand beside the bound Indian brave.

Quanah stretched like a lazy cat, yawned, and scrambled to
his feet. He grinned at Ricky. "See? Make 'im do the work,
fucking."

Ricky wrinkled his nose. "I dunno. Still, I gotta try that
some time." He smiled, then turned suddenly serious. "Look," he
said quietly. "What are we gonna do with these studs?"

"Shouldn't make up minds on empty belly," said Quanah,
patting his lean stomach. "You bring grub?"

Ricky loped through the glade to where he and Quanah had
picketed their horses and left their saddles. He dug into his
saddlebag, grabbed Quanah's rolled blanket, then hurried back. He
had the blanket unrolled and Quanah was cheerfully munching on a
dried sausage before Ricky remembered their prisoners. He glanced
around the glade, spotted Luke standing, facing Red Owl.

"Hey; quit that!" yelled Ricky. Turning to Quanah, he added,
"He's biting off that whip you tied around Luke's balls."

Quanah laughed. "Nope, not biting; sucking. Look at 'em."

Ricky trotted closer; Luke, still standing close to Red Owl,
who sat astride his log, glared back over his shoulder at Ricky.
Red Owl, Ricky could see now, had his mouth on Luke's out-thrust
prong; as the young cowboy approached, Red Owl pulled back his
head, releasing a stiff, gleaming cock, and looked up at Ricky.

"What th' fuck?" growled Luke. "Can't a guy --" he saw
Ricky's grin and flushed angrily."After you bastards been fuckin'
around, I don't see --"

Ricky was conscious of his own cock surging to lusty
hardness again as he looked over the two bound studs. "Shut up,
Luke," Ricky snapped. "I got a better idea what t' do with you
two."

"Cook balls with hot coals?" asked Quanah, who had followed
Ricky to stand beside him. "Gotta make fire bigger, bury 'em
afterward. Lots of work."

Ricky turned away from the two naked prisoners, toward
Quanah, and winked. "I got a better idea than that."

"Make 'em build fire, dig holes?"

Ricky shook his head. "I want t' try fucking three in a
stack."

"Ya mean, me and th' Indian stud here and --" Luke frowned.
"But --"

"You on th' bottom, Luke," said Ricky. "Then me, and then
Red Owl. Afterward, you and Red Owl swap places, and Quanah gets
in th' middle. Only --"

Red Owl started to smile, then frowned. "Be hard to fuck
you, with me still tied."

"You could --" Luke began, stopped, and frowned. "Damn.
You're 'fraid we'll jump you two, soon's you untie us." He
lowered his head, stared at his out-thrust cock for a second.
"Quanah could hold that six-gun of mine while th' other three --"

"No good," said Quanah. "You grab Ricky, I shoot, then have
to dig holes for all three bodies, and never get to try out hot
coals or three in stack."

"Could promise --" began Red Owl.

"Promise? From a redskin?" asked Luke. "Ha!"

Anger flashed across Red Owl's face, turning quickly to a
sullen frown.

"How about it, Red Owl?" asked Ricky. He stood beside the
big, powerfully muscled Indian now.

"My word is good," Red Owl said quietly.

Ricky glanced back at Quanah, who looked thoughtful. "Make
'im swear on his father's balls," Quanah said at last.

"Do you?" asked Ricky. Red Owl nodded slowly. "Say it,"
Ricky said, kneeling behind Red Owl and putting one hand on his
bound wrists.

"Damn you, paleface kid with big, hard prong," growled Red
Owl. "Okay. I swear by father's balls to -- to do everything you
say."

"And no tricks?" Ricky tightened his hand on Red Owl's thick
wrists.

"No tricks," said Red Owl. Ricky started to untie Red Owl's
bonds; the big Indian relaxed his tensed muscles with a sigh as
the ropes loosened.

"What about this paleface stud?" asked Quanah, tapping
Luke's broad chest.

"I promise, same as th' redskin here," said Luke.

Red Owl said, "White man speak with forked --"

"What d'ya mean?" yelled Luke. "I ain't neither broke my --"

"Yeah?" asked Ricky, looking up from untying Red Owl's
ankles. "What about that time you suckered Slim int' buying that
gray mare?"

"That was hoss-tradin'," growled Luke, looking down and
poking his toe at a pebble in the sand. "This is different." As
Ricky watched, Luke strained at his bonds; the muscles of his
powerful arms, chest, and shoulders tensed into hard relief.

Ricky finished untying Red Owl and stood up. Red Owl got to
his feet more slowly. Ricky ran his eyes up the muscular Indian;
Red Owl caught his glance and put his hand on Ricky's shoulder.
"I keep word," Red Owl said. "I do anything you say, even if you
want me to take my balls, build --"

"Hey, that's it!" said Ricky. He clapped Red Owl on the back
and turned to Quanah. "One thing Luke won't do: he won't welsh.
Make a bet. That's it." Ricky slowed for breath. "Quanah, just
bet him that he **won't* -- uh -- be your slave and do everything
you tell him to."

"Okay," said Quanah. "But --"

"Okay by me," said Luke. He started to look cheerful,
shifted to a brow-knitting frown. "Uh -- what stakes?"

"What else?" Ricky laughed, then said, "Your balls."

"What! My **balls?"*

"Sure," said Quanah, grinning. "I see now." He reached down
and seized the whip whose far end was still tied around Luke's
massive testicles. "We bet you do what we say. You win bet, do
what I say, you get to keep your balls. You don't, I win your
balls, do anything I want with 'em."

"Or you'll be welshing on a bet," said Ricky.

"Okay?" asked Quanah, pulling the whip handle.

"Well, sure. It's a fuckin' bet."

"No tricks?"

"No tricks. You're boss." He let out his breath in a long,
noisy sigh.

Quanah started to walk behind Luke; Ricky stopped him with,
"Wait." He grinned at the young buck's surprise and added, "You
do too much work that way." Turning to Red Owl, Ricky said, "Go
untie Luke's wrists." As Red Owl strode toward Luke, Ricky turned
back to Quanah and said, "Better hold on to that whip for a sec,
Quanah."

As Red Owl worked on Luke's bonds, Quanah said, "You make a
good Indian, Ricky. Catch on quick, not work too hard."

The young cowboy grinned, turned back to Luke, and licked
his lips thoughtfully. Red Owl flipped off the last of the ropes;
Luke raised his arms in a muscle-rippling stretch of his big,
naked body.

"That bet," said Ricky. Luke and Quanah looked at him,
puzzled. "Shake on it. Now."

Luke scowled. He looked down; his eyes traced the length of
the blacksnake whip from the loop around his big balls to the
handle in Quanah's hand. Quanah shifted the handle to his left
hand, gently flicked the whip, then pulled it tight, tugging at
Luke's balls. Luke grunted, wiped the palm of his right hand on
his flank, then put his hand out. Quanah gripped Luke's big paw;
they gravely shook hands.

"What's th' matter? Don't ya trust me?" asked Luke, as he
reached down and started loosening the whip-end around his balls.

"We do now," said Ricky. "Red Owl, get th' lard and grease
up your cock. Better give mine a bit more too." He turned back to
Luke. "Come on, stud; let's git fucked."

At the blanket, Luke tossed his hat aside and stretched out
on his back. Ricky waited while Red Owl's big hands smeared on a
little more grease, then Ricky mounted Luke's thighs and plugged
himself in. The big cowboy was tense, hands clutching Ricky's
shoulders as Ricky impaled him, but relaxed on the second stroke
and started to meet Ricky's thrusts by the fourth. Ricky tensed
in alarm himself as Red Owl's powerfully muscled torso covered
his own. Red Owl's thick shaft probed, his glans began to
penetrate Ricky's ass. In a few seconds, though, the blazing pain
of entrance softened to a lusty, throbbing warmth. Ricky wrapped
his arms~ tighter around Luke's thighs, pressing himself deeper
into the big, naked body under him. Red Owl's arms snaked around
Ricky's chest, hugged tight. The big Indian's cock jabbed deep
into Ricky's guts, pulled back, drove in smoothly again. Ricky
raised his own hips to meet Red Owl's thrust, then jabbed down
into Luke's tight asshole.

Under Ricky, Luke panted, "Fuck me. . . . so hot . . . it's
been . . . so fuckin'. . . long." He gasped, went on: "Gittin'
. . . broke in . . . all over again . . . fuck me, kid!"

And Ricky did, fucking, getting fucked; wriggling and
squirming, sandwiched between two hot, sweaty studs; fucking full
speed until he unloaded hot sperm into Luke and, seconds later,
felt Red Owl jet his load into Ricky's impaled ass.

Afterward, Ricky rolled aside and watched while Quanah
hopped on Red Owl and Luke mounted Quanah. Ricky propped himself
up on one elbow to watch as the three-man fuck began.

Still later, Ricky and Quanah were using a drowsy Red Owl
for a pillow while Luke tended a pan of burgers sizzling over the
fire and tried to keep sparks and drops of hot oil from landing
on his naked hide. Luke looked up from the fire, frowning
thoughtfully. His eyes met Ricky's for a moment, then flicked
aside as Luke asked, "Hey, were ya really gonna go through with
it? Th' torch and hot coals and stuff?"

Ricky took a deep breath, let it out slowly. "Really cook
your balls?" He felt Red Owl, his muscular pillow, squirm
slightly, then settle down again.

Red Owl interrupted Ricky's thoughts: "Really want to know?
**Think,* pale-face muscle-man."

"Sure I -- fuck!" Luke licked his lips slowly. "I dunno. I
don't even know which'd be worse, knowin' you fuckers pulled a
fuckin' bluff, or knowin' that you really would have --" He broke
off, looked down, and sniffed. "Grub's ready; come and git it!"

Ricky started to get up. Quanah caught Ricky's arm, held him
back, as the young Indian said, "You bring it here, paleface."

"What th' fuck you -- uh -- yeah, I -- forgot, boss." As
Luke picked up the sizzling pan and moved to the others, Ricky
stretched his supple, naked body, then looked back at Red Owl.

"You're right," said Ricky. "Not knowing for sure; it makes
it more -- well -- exciting." He grinned. "And you two still
don't know what you're gonna be in for next time --"

" `Next time'?" demanded Red Owl, sitting up on one elbow.

"Sure," said Ricky. "Come by, 'bout four, this coming
Saturday afternoon. Bring bedrolls so we can camp out. Quanah --"

"Okay," said Quanah. "Luke; bring grub, be here too."

"Goddamn," growled Luke, putting down the pan of food within
reach of Ricky and Quanah. "We fucking plumb fergot to set a date
with these fuckers to quit doin' what they say." He sighed
noisily, ran a hand slowly over his chest and on down to squeeze
his thick, slowly hardening prong. "Uh -- steaks okay?"

"Sure," said Ricky. "We'll all bring dessert."

"Dessert?" asked Red Owl.

"Same as what we've been having today," said Ricky. He
reached out, patted Red Owl's plump balls, then ran his fingers
along the Indian's stiffening cock. "Okay?"

Red Owl tried to look impassive, gave up, and grinned.
"Okay, paleface kid with damn big prong. Let's eat!"


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[Copyright (C) 2004 by Felix Lance Falkon; you may save or make]
[paper copies for your own use; do not post, repost, publish, ]
[or archive elsewhere without the author's express permission. ]
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