The Carson City Ranch makes some very sexy changes in hopes of increasing visitor demand in this new story from Dixon!
Dude Ranch Part 1
by Dixon
Series: Dude Ranch
Move over West World! Carson City Ranch had seen a decline in guests wanting to relive the old west, with a more serious drop in income for two consecutive years. They were at the point of having to let half of the regular crew go – some who had become icons to the men who returned year after year. The owners couldn’t expect to attract new wanna’ be cowboys with a price increase, and had already sold off land. Unless the crew could come up with some way to fill the bunkhouses with guests that year, it would be their last.
The owner met with Carson, the foreman of the 10-man crew, giving him free reign to come up with any kind of campaign to salvage what used to be a hot property. Just figure out what would attract a new generation to fork over $1000 for two weeks playing cowboy.
Born in the little western town, Carson had worked at the ranch more than 10 years. He was responsible for training greenhorn crew, mostly college students looking for a summer job, as well as playing a number of characters in the traditional events the ranch featured. He was the Sheriff organizing a posse of guests to track down a bank robber, and then the bad guy in the black hat in the opening night bar fight. (He always lost in the carefully choreographed stunt.) He got the crew together over a keg of beer, challenging them to brainstorm ideas to save the jobs.
Carson had his faithful following, having seen some guests return year after year. He argued that registrations had peaked back when Brokeback Mountain was the buzz, with a boom of young city slickers hoping they’d have a cowboy romance. Everyone knew a lot of couples signed up that year, with the three-day mock cattle drive being their favorite event.
That’s when guests had to throw their own tents, or sleep under the stars, and there were a lot of Brokeback re-enactments. Several crew members remembered how the guests rushed to put up their tents every night, the howls of the wolves and coyotes not the only mating calls those nights. Carson suggested they bring back Brokeback, capitalizing on the growing gay market by designing some new events. The crew showed their colors, from the Alpha studs to the closeted bottoms.
With several physique freaks, the idea of a Carson City calendar could bring in extra revenue, while showcasing sexy bait for possible extra-curricular hook ups. Ricky’s boyfriend could do the photography, if the owner would agree to covering publishing costs.
After a lot of discussion, they settled on four new events: “Hog Tie Mastery”, a thinly veiled pitch to the BDSM boys, could be a public rodeo-styled event, or a private session in one of the old tanning sheds. Guests could fill out a waiver form, checking off on things like nudity / fully clothed, degrees of CBT, and their safe word.
The “Mr. Carson City” event was a runway strut for the last night. A panel of crew judges would select the most authentic (or sexiest, or most ‘popular’) guest while the crowd cheered them on. There’d be a cash bar to cover all expenses, maybe clear a little profit.
“Bronco Bustin’”, described as learning how to tame a wild one, was Clarence’s bright idea. He originally had the crew bustin’ their pick of the guests, but the rest of the crew told him to keep his private hook ups private, like he’d always done. They could have guests sign up to be ‘broncos’, with the crew picking the wild animal they’d take on, or even allow couples to sign up. Marty suggested having crew members oversee private sessions in the barn stables, just to make sure no Alpha fuckers went too far, and then holding a public finale rodeo style in the coral the last day.
Carson would head up the “Bareback Riding” event. He’d set up a course, including a ride across an open field, then into a secluded section of woods. He could guide a single guest, or couples could sign up to share a horse.
Carson decided he needed photos to sell the owner on printing the calendar, personally covering the film expense so Ricky’s boyfriend could start photo shoots. He got a great shot of Carl tipping his hat as if welcoming guests which would become the January feature.
Carson picked Ricky’s lasso trick for the February slot, over three other poses that didn’t play up his chiseled torso. He could already imagine young fellows fantasizing about bunking down with Mr. January or getting roped by Mr. February.
The photographer had cleverly told Bryson to keep his boots on for his bathtub shot, playing to the image of cowboys dying with their boots on. It was plenty sexy, without risking being censored. No one had to know the tub didn’t have any water or that Bryson kept his tighty whitey’s on.
As for himself, Carson dug into his old costumes, pulling out the skimpy Indian outfit, the weathered vest cut low to display his furry pelt. He had cut off the shorts, having a tailor stitch on fringe and the appearance that the jock was laced to allow a snug fit or a quick release.
There were a couple shots of the thong rear, but Carson considered it false advertising to show his ample rear end. The target audience wasn’t bears or daddy types, but Brokeback boys who could fantasize getting captured by a savage man. In fact, he decided they needed to bring back the Indian raids, the crew scantily clad in loin cloths with feathers in their headbands.
With over two hundred photos to pick from, Carson saw the opportunity to play up the new events. There was a great shot of Calhoun hog tied in full dress, his legs spread wide, his face showing either pain or dread of what might come next. Carson could thank the crew members who stood by during the shoot, threatening to rip open those jeans and tap his ass before they let him loose. That made a great centerfold that plugged the Hot Tie Mastery event.
Clarence had the beefcake shot with his massive physique simply perched on the back of his pick up where he was unloading bales of hay. Gym rats would certainly notice his muscular development without realizing the ranch workouts were doing heavy lifting, not pumping iron.
Carson figured the photographer got his pay check for doing the work by getting a number of the crew to strip down buck naked. He knew full well they couldn’t include cock shots in the calendar, but he had artfully captured Logan’s tempting ass standing against a backdrop of his trusted horse. It wasn’t an X-rated photo, but certainly implied guests could enjoy bareback riding, even fantasizing about getting at Logan’s fine derriere. Logan took the August slot with the simple caption “Love that Ride”.
Dylan’s bare assed photo was a real beauty without being sexually explicit. The photographer didn’t have to coax him to bare all, Dylan having a confirmed orientation as a bottom. There were three poses, Garcon discarding two as too explicit. He was definitely the poster boy for bareback riding, the obvious caption for his October slot.
The photo of Dusty peeling off his shirt screamed ’strut’, his beautifully tanned torso displayed in all its glory. Prospective customers could imagine what he was up to, from heading to the coral to break a mustang, or stripping down to take on a cowboy challenge. For Carson, it was the perfect November shot to mention the new Runway Strut event.
He had a real problem with a sultry nude shot of Taylor. It was cropped just above his crotch, but he knew the photographer had a full frontal version and wanted a print himself. He’d been a mainstay on the crew for eight years with Carson, doing whatever had to be done without complaint. The two men had their Brokeback moment a couple years ago, camping out overnight when they were mending fences. After a dinner of beans and warm beer, they slipped into their separate sleeping bags, Carson gazing up at the stars wondering if Taylor was jerking off, too. He didn’t fall asleep for nearly an hour, wondering if he should make a move on the sexy man.
His biggest problem with the photo was wondering if it was too erotic, too risky to include in the calendar. It was certainly authentic cowboy beef, typical of the guys heading for a dip after a long day on the range.
He decided to caption it “Bunkhouse Beef”, including it as the May feature. If that didn’t attract some colts and even stallions, he didn’t know what would.
The December feature was easy. There was a photo of Ricky behind stoic Spence, lifting his shirt up. It was probably an accidental pose, Ricky stepping in when Spence balked about going bare-chested. Despite his toned bod, Spence wasn’t an exhibitionist, seldom flashing any flesh even when the temperatures had the crew using their shirts to mop the sweat off their bodies.
Carson saw it as a representation of unveiling “Mr. Carson City”, another plug for a new event. They could replicate the pose with whoever won the maiden event, which would hopefully become a staple for the revived dude ranch summers. Hell, they could even keep their customers engaged by posting a ballot on the web site at the end of the season with all the session winners as finalists for the annual Mr. Carson City. The champ could win a free two week return the following season, hosting the selection of the next contender.
Having already gotten an estimate from the publisher for a first run of 1000 copies, he got one of their staff to do a paste up that would be the back cover to pitch the publication to the owner.
Even if he had been the creative force behind the selections, Carson was impressed with the mock up, confident the owner would sign off. Unfortunately, he not only signed off, but confirmed that
Taylor’s photo was a genuine turn on. Erotic, yeah. Suggestive, hell yeah. But that photo should be the calendar cover shot. Worse yet, he wanted Taylor to pay him a visit.
Carson would delay that visit as long as he could. He hadn’t made his move years ago, but the owner’s interest in meeting Taylor represented a threat. He’d never mingled with the crew, not even knowing the guy’s names. For what reason did he suddenly want the man to pay him a visit?
The crew went ape shit over the calendar mock up. They were suddenly about to become cowboy celebrities, possibly even being solicited for modeling assignments. Wise cracks abounded.
“Get ready, Dylan,” Logan said. “Michael Lucas will be offering you an exclusive contract to tap that boy toy ass!”
“Yeah,” Dylan came back, “With Spence and Dusty making double their pay as male strippers.”
Bryson joked that they should start a pool to track which men attracted the most new registrants, suggesting Logan better be prepared for young bucks hoping to tap his bubble butt. To a man they nixed that idea, convinced it would be no contest. Taylor would win it hands down.
“Make that pants down,” Clarence quipped, getting universal applause.
Taylor had a conflicted look, both flattered and embarrassed at the same time. He said nothing, glancing at Carson – eye contact that hinted maybe a hook up was possible. Carson did need to talk to him, so he simply asked him to see him about picking up some supplies after they wrapped up.
“Did you see all the photos that guy took,” Taylor asked right away. “I didn’t expect you’d be able to use any of them.
“There were only three or four, all cropped to avoid being explicit. I have to admit, though, you’re one photogenic fellow.” (He didn’t volunteer that he would demand prints of everything the photographer got of Taylor, without cropping.) “The boss picked your photo for the cover, and said he wanted you to pay him a visit.”
“Pay him a visit? What the hell for?” He paused, then added “No way, man. He doesn’t own me.”
He confirmed Carson’s instinct that the boss’s interest was sexual. He cleverly changed the subject.
“He probably wants to see the full frontal, to see first hand what you’re packing,” he said matter-of-factly. “I don’t think he’d be disappointed, but then I haven’t seen you naked myself in all these years we’ve worked together.”
“I better get Ricky to get the negatives of the stuff his boyfriend shot. He sure tried to get me fondling myself, getting aroused like he was preparing a portfolio for a porn audition.”
Carson unbuckled and unzipped his pants, making his move with a juvenile “show me yours and I’ll show you mine”. Taylor’s eyes darted down to his crotch, hesitating but then unzipping his jeans. Neither man was disappointed, neither remaining flaccid. The chemistry between them was instant, the clothing shed and the flip / flop sex elevating their relationship several notches at once.
Carson assured Taylor he’d accompany him to visit the owner, running interference if he had any ulterior motives. They went to his home the next afternoon unnecessarily anxious. He mixed drinks, raving about expecting to sell out of the first run of calendars. He apologized for not having met Taylor before, asking a lot of routine questions about his family and previous jobs. Then he presented Taylor a check.
“Keep this to yourself, guys, ‘cause I can’t afford to pay the whole crew. But as the cover boy, you deserve some compensation.”
On the way back to the ranch the two men laughed at their earlier concerns, concluding they both had sex on the brain. They had solved that problem, both satisfying the itch they had for each other, Taylor $500 richer to boot.
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