Studs in the Saddle – Page 3

The captured cowboy is even forced to eat the gang leader’s ass before the gangs leaves him exhausted and humiliated.

studs-saddle-7His men responded with whoops of agreement, and in no time they had Clay’s legs lifted and pushed back, the dangling cock banging against his own lips. Dallas held Clay’s head in place as Blake demanded, “Open up, li’l buckaroo. Chow down that hunk of beef jerky afore it gits cold.”

A last flickering flame of rebellion flared up in Clay and he clamped his lips tight. No was were these fuckin’ degenerates gonna make him do suck a disgustin’ thing.

Clay’s resistance was short lived though, and crumbled completely when he felt the icy cold barrel of Blake’s gun rammed up into his sloppy asshole.

“You better do as I say,” Blake warned, “less’n you want your asshold blowed clean outta yore mouth.”

To emphasize his threat, Blake roughly twisted the six-shooter and rammed a few more inches of the cold metal into Clay’s rectum.

“My trigger finger’s gittin’ might itchy,” he said quietly.

The click of the gun being cocked was all the persuasion Clay needed. He opened his mouth, stuck out his tongue and began to lick at the slick glans of his own penis.

“That’s more like it,” Blake said, apparently satisfied although he did not remove the gun from the upended butt. “Now wrap yore lips around it and start suckin’. You ain’t gonna believe how good it’s gonna feel!”

Clay lay sprawled on the poker table, thoroughly humiliated, his naked body glistening with seat and sperm and spit. He had been gang-fucked, had sucked cocks and been forced to eat his own dick for the amusement of his tormentors. What more could they possibly do to him? He was soon to find out.

studs-saddle-8Giving him no time to rest from his recent ordeals, he was lifted from the table and made to crawl on all fours to where the sadistic gangleader was sitting.

“We go a little ‘dessert’ for you,” Blake said.

He scooted his bare butt to the edge of the chair and, speading his husky thights, lifted one booted leg to expose his moist, hair-ringed asshole.

“Don’t that make yore mouth water,” he said, chuckling at the expression of horror and disgust that crossed over Clay’s face. “Bet you’d like to get a little taste of that!”

Several guns were aimed at him from the circle of grinning onlookers, so Clay knew better than to refuse. Holding his breath, the unhappy cowboy buried his square-jawed face in the damp crack and noisily slurped at the dark mysteries of Blake’s butt-tunnel, corkscrewing his tongue up into the passage and tasting the desperado’s slippery insides.

studs-saddle-9It was hours later before the gang finished with him. Now Clay lay sprawled among the broken tables, empty whiskey bottles, ripped clothing and puddles of assorted bodily fluids. His handsome, athletic body was covered with bruises and smeared with dirt and dripping wet. He was moaning and only half conscious as the exhausted Blake Gang buttoned up and departed.

He knew he should try to get up and sneak back to his room before someone might come and find him, but he just didn’t have the strength. What if the wrong people should come in and find him??? Oh, God…what if some of the cattle drivers should come in?? They’d know right away what had happened…then, knowing that rowdy bunch, they’d probably decide to ‘have a little fun with him’ too!!!

He had to get up and get out. He tried to sit up, but couldn’t manage it. Weakly he fell back. He heard the sound of boots approaching and a low drone of masculine voices. Someone was coming!!! Oh….No…No!…..No!!!

Mercifully, the hunky blond passed out-fainting-before the group of lusty, dust-covered cattle drivers got to him!

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