Gay Bondage Fiction | The Horse Thief Reenactment (Page 1)

A big-mouthed city slicker has a humiliating experience when he pisses off the wrong group of dude-ranch cowboys in this new story by Dupree!

The Horse Thief Reenactment - Page 1
by Dupree
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The two brothers, Clay and Logan, stormed out of the Hidden Creek Saloon, and a small group of ranch guests moved to one side as they did so. The brothers were big and strong with wide shoulders and bulging arms, but the real reason they walked with such savage pride was because this was their life and their land! The tourists who visited the ranch might have kept the place afloat - and they were grateful to most of them - but the occasional big-mouth jerkoff could make them mighty mad. They were actual cowboys born and raised in Wyoming - not actors! - and their sweat and tears were mixed within the very soil beneath their feet. Logan, who was twenty-eight and tawny-haired, had busted his ass for the Hidden Creek Guest Ranch going on three years now, his slightly-older brother about four, and both were growing tired of catering to supercilious city folk having pretend-time in the 'Old West'.

"Can you believe that guy referred to us as 'just actors'?" Clay asked his little brother, whose open-handed gesture of incredulity indicated that no, he could not. Clay and Logan looked alike but the older of the two was a bit more massive, and when he slammed his right fist into the palm of his left Logan winced at the loud and intense smack! that issued. "That's what I'd like to do to that guy's face!"

"Me first!" Logan told him. "Can you believe that guy's from Southern California, and he comes out here to the wild west acting like he knows what's real and what isn't? He keeps telling people this is all a 'reenactment'!"

"Reenactment my ass! Who the fuck does he think drives the cattle, grooms the horses and cleans the stables? We bust our butts everyday, and guys like that might pay big bucks to come here but they don't lift a finger when they get here cuz they think they're at a friggin' theme park!"

Right then their cousin Reese rode up on his cherished palomino, a mare named Goldie, and after waving at him the two brothers went on with their conversation. "I think his name is Jimmy," Logan said, "and all he does is complain about how fake and 'themed' everything is, right down to our cowboy boots!"

"What's this? Who thinks our cowboy boots are fake?" their cousin demanded as he took an angry leap down from his horse. Reese had a thing for cowboy boots and was even somewhat of a collector, and being of a flashy, ostentatious persuasion he often wore colorful, studded boots to muck the stalls. On this particular day he was wearing a pair that might have been made for Glen Campbell.

"A guy in there from California thinks we're all a bunch of actors - performers! - pretending to be cowboys for the guests," Logan filled him in.

"Sounds like a real asshole!" Reese asserted as he ran his fingers vainly through his burgundy-brown hair. "Hey, let's get a beer!" he then suggested while tying his horse to a hitching post.

Right then the current man of mention, that jerkoff named Jimmy, stepped out from the saloon escorting a pretty young lady he'd just met. He was the classic surfer dude type - flaxen hair, tanned skin and white-toothed smile - and it was clear to see he was into himself. "This is all staged!" he was telling the girl like a real know-it-all. "I bet most of these guys work in Disneyland in different costumes during the winter."

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about!" Clay told him. "We bust our asses, city-slicker!"

"This is all for the most part reenactment and you know it," Jimmy corrected him calmly as he walked by holding his newfound friend's arm. The surfer dude liked to show off in front of girls as he felt it was conducive to getting laid.

"You're talking out of your ass!" Logan barked.

"Oh yeah, just take a look at those boots!" he challenged the cowboy as he pointed toward Reese's legs. "They look like they were borrowed from Dollywood, and the yellow horse too!" The SoCal surfer slapped the palomino on its rump and its owner angrily charged at him.

"It's one thing if you want to diss my boots, bitch," Reese told him nose to nose, "but slap my Goldie again and I'll slap yer mouth!"

"G-Goldie?" Jimmy stammered as the girl released his hand and backed away from them.

"The horse's name, and her color!" the cowboy informed him with hands-on-hips in an almost-effeminate manner, but those hands were huge and the hips were slender and firm above massive, strong thighs, so Jimmy decided not to tick the guy off any further.

"Why don't you take a hike!" Clay told him, and Jimmy did, but after walking a mere ten yards down the dirt road he stopped and turned about.

The surfer shouted, "Sorry I interrupted your staged reenactment by touching one of your horse props!" Then he turned about and kept walking, leaving the girl standing behind.

"Nobody calls my Goldie a horse prop!" Reese countered despite the fact he wasn't sure what one was, yet as he watched the jerk walk away he couldn't help but admire the shape of his ass and the seductive sway to his angry gait...

"Fuck that guy!" Clay declared. "Come on - let's get that beer." They went in the saloon, found a table, ordered their drinks and kicked back for a bit. But as their drinks were being served the door burst open and a friend of theirs ran in screaming.

"Hey, Reese! Good thing you're here! Some guy just rode off with your horse!"

The three of them immediately bolted outside and looked in the direction of the dust the horse had just kicked up, but they were gone. The girl was still standing there, however.

"Did your friend take my horse?" Reese beseeched of her.

"He came back and he said he paid good money to be here for a week at this fake place," she quickly blurted out in one breath, and her hands were held out in a gesture that said I had nothing to do with it! She then continued, "He said he'd touch or ride any horse here he damn well pleased and that he was taking the yellow one for a ride to the creek and then he went thataway!" She pointed to emphasize she was friend-not-foe but the three young men had already made for Clay's truck, and ten seconds later they were barreling off after him.

They raced at least half a mile but saw no horse, so they figured the jerk must have taken one of the bridle paths which crisscrossed throughout the timbered wilderness, some of which reached Hidden Creek a good mile to the north. But these three young men were born and raised in this neck of the woods and they knew well how to get to the creek by car. Clay was driving, and he knew where to turn off the main dirt road onto an overgrown, rutted lane which ran up to and then alongside the creek. And if Jimmy was actually heading where he'd said he was going they would eventually have to meet up.

They parked behind a clump of foliage which hid the truck from view, and they branched out separately to get a better scope of their surroundings. It wasn't long before the jerk was spotted, and Reese texted his cousins: i see the horse, head my way. In less than five minutes the three of them had reunited on top of a brushy hill overlooking the creek, and sure enough there was Goldie tied to a tree drinking from it. "But where's the chump?" Clay asked.

Reese put a finger to his mouth to hush him, then he pointed, and the two brothers strained their eyes until they could just barely see Jimmy standing behind the cover of some bushes, and he seemed to be undressing! "Nice day for skinny-dipping," Logan jested in a whisper, and the three of them watched him the best they could as he stripped down and hung his clothes upon the bushes. Reese's eyes held a certain hungry interest in the surfer's disrobing that his cousins' didn't, and his dick grew hard within the confines of his jeans.

"I've got an idea," Clay softly told them. "This jackass seems to think that the Hidden Creek Ranch is just a reenactment, and that we're actors. Well fine - let's show him a reenactment of what happened to horse thieves in the Old West!"

"It'll serve him right," his little brother agreed.

"We can't actually hang him," Reese cautioned.

"He doesn't know that," Clay said with a grin. "Here's what we need to do..." and he issued instructions to the other two who were more than happy to comply...

Jimmy was enjoying his swim immensely. The contrast of the hot glaring sun and the coolness of the rushing creek water made his bare skin tingle with delight, and he splashed about naked for a good fifteen minutes without shame nor a care in the world. This was the life, and he intended to make it down to the creek as often as he could, which meant he might have to borrow that horse again...

But where the fuck was the horse?

Jimmy arose from the water and climbed over the rocky bank to where he had tied the horse to a tree, but it was gone! Time to get dressed! he quickly decided, but when he ran to the bushes where he had laid his clothes they were as bare as he was. His clothes were gone, and he was left naked as the day he was born in the middle of fucking nowhere!

"You looking for these?" somebody said, and footsteps crunched upon the gravelly ground behind him. Jimmy whirled about to see the three cowboy bozos he had dissed earlier outside the saloon, and the one who had called him a city-slicker was holding his clothes and shoes bundled into a pile. Beside him was the guy who looked to be his brother holding a rope, and behind them from around a group of trees came the dude in the fancified boots leading his horse beside him.

"Give me my fucking clothes back!" Jimmy screamed as water dripped from his chin, chest and cute, little cock, which had shriveled from the chill of the water.

"You're not exactly calling the shots here, horse thief!" Clay informed him, and when the surfer rushed forward Logan stepped in front of him with his arms crossed, blocking his advance.

"Nice ass," Reese told him, and his delight in checking him out was obvious to all. The surfer hadn't a hair on his body, and while most of him was darkly bronzed by the sun a lighter patch of skin around his midsection displayed his true milky coloration in the shape of a speedo, clearly betraying the fact the young whipper shaved his pubes. "And I love how you Cali boys all like to go smoothie..."

"I SAID GIVE ME MY FUCKING CLOTHES!"

"I think we should hang him," Logan suggested, holding up the rope.

"Perhaps by his balls..." Reese offered with a wink.

Logan pointed at Jimmy's privates and said, "Well, they are right there..."

"THIS IS CRAZY!" Jimmy shouted, and he turned to Clay hoping for some reason.

"You are a horse thief," Clay informed him, "and since you think the ranch is all just a reenactment, then we'll have to reenact what happened when a horse thief was caught back in the Wild West. We are placing you in custody, and my brother and cousin will transport you to a place of detainment to await your trial. I, however, will be transporting all confiscated evidence separately by truck." And he ran off in the direction of his pickup holding Jimmy's clothes.

"WHAT THE FUCK! COME BACK HERE WITH MY CLOTHES!" Jimmy started to run after him but was grabbed roughly by the other two men who wrenched his arms behind him, and his hands were tied together with the rope Logan had been holding. "What the fuck is this? Let me go!" He struggled against the binds but they held firm, and he might as well have tried to slip out of handcuffs for Logan knew how to tie a knot that stayed tied. The surfer dude was now not only buck naked in the middle of nowhere, he was also prisoner to these two hayseed yahoos who had him under their complete control!

"Let's get moving!" Logan ordered. "We're going to house you in the stables until your trial."

"When is my so-called trial?"

"We haven't decided yet, now get moving!"

"But I'm naked! You can't take me anywhere naked!"

"They would have taken you in just as they found you a hundred years ago," Reese told him, "and we are doing a realistic reenactment! Besides, I can't get enough of that flawless ass..."

Logan started to walk Jimmy, and despite his struggles the surfer quickly learned to keep up with his captor, otherwise the rope would pull taut and he'd be dragged from behind. They walked several yards away from the creek before the surfer cried out, "My feet hurt! You can't expect me to walk barefoot on all these little rocks and weeds..."

"Of course not," Reese agreed. "We're going to let you ride on Goldie again!" And boy-oh-boy! did Jimmy struggle against them over that decision, but the two bigger guys were strong as oxen and managed to get him up on that horse with his hands still bound behind him, and Logan led them down that trail toward the road ahead.

"You can't do this to me!" the surfer protested, and he tried his best to stay upright in the saddle lest he fall off upon the scraggly ground naked. Reese walked behind the horse to ensure he didn't try to climb down, and all the while he commented on the flawless design and unadulterated milky complexion of Jimmy's naked ass. "You're not police officers," their prisoner went on. "You can't do this to me!"

"Sure we can," Logan calmly responded. "This is a reenactment of a citizen's arrest of a wretched horse thief circa...well, like he said a hundred years ago, and you are dressed quite appropriately by the way."

"From where I'm standing he sure is," Reese agreed.

They traversed through the wilderness for about a mile before the trail met the more traveled dirt road, and Jimmy gasped when they came out into the open and began marching toward the ranch. There he was not wearing a stitch seated upon a horse slowly trotting toward the guest ranch where who knows how many people might see him, and with his hands tied behind his back he couldn't even use them to cover his crotch!

A couple of ranch hands approached them on a small, slow-moving tractor and they waved at Logan, but as they got closer and realized the man on the horse wasn't just shirtless but buck-ass naked they stopped and stood in the road. "We've got a horse thief here," Reese told them. "We caught him running around by the creek with no clothes on!"

"They took my clothes and won't give them back!" Jimmy screamed.

"Shut up!" Logan spat. Then he told the men in the road, "Never believe what a horse thief tells you."

"That's right!" one of them agreed while scornfully taking a picture of Jimmy with his phone.

Further on up the road they encountered three guests on horseback - two men and a woman! "What's going on?" one of the guys asked.

"We've caught a horse thief," Logan replied, "and we're taking him into custody just the way we found him!"

The woman carefully scrutinized the captive man despite his hostile glare, and she asked, "Is it normal procedure to shave off a horse thief's pubic hair?"

"He done did that himself," Reese told her.

"I'm a surfer!" Jimmy screamed indignantly at all of them.

"I told you to shut up!" Logan screamed back, and they went on their way.

A few minutes later they turned south into a field and headed in the direction of a large barn, a horse stable to be exact. Clay's pickup was parked by the structure, and as they approached he walked out to meet them along with two stable hands who looked to be angry. "Word of catching a horse thief spreads fast in these parts," Logan explained, and Jimmy had never felt so exposed and intimidated in his entire life.

Clay walked right up to the palomino and half-helped, half-pulled Jimmy off the horse, after which he marched the prisoner before the two stable hands and made him stand there on display. One of the hands, an older Hispanic guy named Raul, eyed him from head to toe and exclaimed, "Why, you have no hair on your entire body, not even around your pito!"

"Bet he thought he was a big man when he was stealing that horse," the other stable hand, who was Raul's nephew Jose, commented with a chuckle, "but from the waist down he's more like a little boy!"

"This is outrageous!" Jimmy cried. "I would have returned the horse. Where are my clothes?"

"Your clothes are still in my truck awaiting a thorough search and examination," Clay informed him, and Jimmy almost burst into tears he felt so frustrated and mistreated.

"You know," Raul told the prisoner, "in the old days they used to hang horse thieves. That rope would be around your neck, not your wrists..."

"There's still time for us to change our minds about that," Jose kidded. The younger of the stable hands was twenty years old and had a slender physique, and he regarded the naked prisoner with adolescent humor in his eyes.

"But I was only borrowing the horse..." Jimmy pleaded.

"Shut up!" Clay told him again. Then he asked the stable hands, "Is there an empty stall where we can hold the prisoner temporarily?"

"There is one right by Goldie's stall as a matter of fact," Raul answered.

"Sounds appropriate," Reese muttered.

"Let's have a little fun with him first," Jose suggested, and his uncle applauded the notion.

"What do you have in mind?" Logan eagerly asked.

"Let's give him a taste of his own medicine. Let's show him how a horse must feel being stolen and ridden by a stranger. Untie his hands and let me ride him!"