“Who’s the messy twunk with the emo cut?” Buck said, wriggling his nose. “I didn’t know they made bad boy versions of you, Spike.”
Tonight was a lowkey event at the GSA ranch. So far, everything had gone by without a hitch. Buck’s first mixer with the local feds was proving to be a relaxing evening of drinks, chatter, and live music. Muscular men and women mingled beneath string lights, on the barn’s open floor. Cocktail glasses clinked together. Buck, dressed in a forest green suit, tried his best not to catch his father’s protective eye. They had made an agreement: don’t get into each other’s business til the end of the night. So far, both of the Tamberly men had remained true to their word.
Ever outgoing, sunny Spike had forced taciturn Buck to let Victor take the reins of the party so he could enjoy himself. Taken aback by Buck’s remark concerning the handsome, dark haired spellbreaker brazenly hitting on Cian, Spike forced a glass of sangria into Buck’s hands.
“Whaddy’a mean, Bucky? I am the bad boy version of me!” Spike giggled. He’d been making starry eyes at Buck all night long.
Buck had noticed. Emboldened by liquor, he ruffled Spike’s hair, more brotherly than flirtatiously. “Nah! You’re a good boy. Now, Dad told me I need to learn how to talent scout–which is really just a fancy word for poachin’ fighters from other feds. You know a lot of spellbreakers, don’t ya?”
Spike took a drink. “Biblically or…”
“I can’t tell when you’re being funny or just dumb.”
“Well that makes two of us. And ugh, yes I’ve blown that guy–I mean know that guy. That’s Moonshot Jace. Goes by The Punk King I think?”
Buck snorted into his Old Fashioned. “The Punk King? What a lame stage name.”
As if summoned by dark forces, Jace–wearing skinny jeans and an indigo, button-up (mostly unbuttoned) sidled over to the table where Spike and his boss were exchanging gossip. Jace, who was much bigger and muscular standing up close, narrowed his eyes, full of moonlight and mischief. His green was positively wolfish.
“Did I hear my name, tasty boys?” Jace said, plucking a cheery out of Spike’s drink and popping it into his mouth. His lips twitched. Then, he pulled out the stem, tied. “Oops. Guess I’m just good with-”
“Your tongue?” Spike finished for him, crossing his meaty arms. “Jace, I taught you how to do that back at Pieces in the Village.”
Jace flicked the knotted stem into his old frenemie’s pretty face. “And the boys tell me I do it better.” There was a slight effeminance in his voice, in contrast to his intimidating, punk-boy aesthetic. “Samuel Waterford. Long time no see, slut. Last we ran into each other, you were getting eaten out in a dark room by some rough trade.”
“Language!” Buck said, nearly spitting into his drink (and a bit envious of whoever got a chance to get up and close and personal with Spike like that). “If my dad hears us talking like this…”
Spike’s hand crushed his glass into a fine powder. Jace didn’t blink. “And you had your ass in a sling, getting filled up like Boston was running outta’ cream!” Spike cursed, full sailor-mouth.
“Spike!” Buck bit his lip. He looked over and met his dad’s disapproving stare. Even from across the room, Buck felt the electricity in the air crackle. He brushed his hair in front of his eyes, a defensive mechanism he used for either hiding or intimidation (and that Spike, somehow, found sexy to no end).
Jace capitalized on handsome Buck’s discomfort, pushing Spike out of the way and sliding in closer. “Mmm. That Stetson you’re wearing, cowboy? And the scent of gym beneath it. I bet your pits smell great.”
“They do,” Spike mumbled, “But that don’t give you the right to say it!”
“Oh wow,” Buck said, taking a step forward. “I don’t care if you think you’re talking to the president of the fed–of which I am, by the by–or a beggar, you do NOT talk to guys like that, you punk!”
“That’s my name, babe, don’t wear it out. What’s wrong, big, sexy Buck? Uncomfortable?. You really are your daddy’s boy. Wonder how far the apple falls from the tree with you Tamberlys.”
And then, Jace reached down and cupped the front of Buck’s pants. “Oh, I see it doesn’t fall far.”
Shocked glances in their direction, Spike’s was the harshest of all. “JACE.”
Seconds away from decking Jace in the lower jaw, Buck’s wrath was stilled by godly intervention–said god being his own father. Colt got in between his son and his assailant. A firm but gentle hand on Buck’s shoulder, and a kind look, was enough to keep him from lashing out. An old story.
“Hold up, hoss,” Colt said, assuringly. “Bucky boy, I know darn well you’re capable of kicking this punk’s butt, but this is your party and the host doesn’t throw his guests into the tables–no matter how rude they get. Leave it with me, son.”
Cold eyed, Buck looked between his father and Jace’s smug expression. Buck knew that smirk would be wiped off in due time.
Annoyed yet again that his father was fighting a battle for him, a tired Buck cut his losses sand decided to focus on closing the night out well. “Fine,” he said. “Thanks, dad.”
“You’re a good boy, son.”
Again, Spike mumbled to himself. “Mmm…wish he would call me that.” And before he could put his foot in his mouth any further, Buck grabbed him by the collar and dragged him off to safer corners.
“Come on, Spike. You’re my date now.”
Jace sighed and shrugged. Colt was more interested than offended now. Did this preening, muscle punk know who he was?
He was about to find out.
Colt didn’t need to put on a scary face or a loud voice to be imposing. He gave everyone a chance. That was the cowboy way. But he also didn’t turn a blind eye to sexual harassment. Certainly not towards his own kin. He stared daggers down at black haired Jace.
“Jace, was it? I expect a fair bit of decorum at these shindigs, no matter how rowdy they get. What you boys do when you walk out those doors ain’t my business, but inside is another story.” You groped my boy. I don’t like that. Only king here–besides me, that is–is consent.”
Which was all very correct and heroic of Colt to say, but Jace was no hero. He loved being trouble. And this big, hunky, handsome cowboy? That was some fine trouble right there.
Jace looked Colt up and down. “What? Jealous?”
Colt cocked his head to the side, narrowed his eyes, and smiled. Somewhere off in the distance, thunder rolled across the city. “Hmm. You seem like the type who knows I’d break every part of your spine individually for a snipe like that, so I’m gonna reckon you got a thing for being a brat, huh?”
Jace licked his lips. Now, we’re talkin’. “Especially for daddy’s.” He practically purred the word. “Haven’t had a taste of you in the ring, big Colt. Colt, like a horse?”
“More horse than you think.” He laughed. Maybe this would be fun? Colt had been too focused on the world tour and making sure Buck didn’t blow up the place or turn it into either a museum or bordello (could go either way with him). Now that he had some free time, his primal masculine instincts had returned to him.
And he hadn’t had ‘bratty boy’ in quite some time….
Colt touched Jace’s shoulder, and squeezed tightly. Tight enough to make him wince. He didn’t let go. “You want to be put in your place. I get it.”
Jace didn’t realize Colt had pinned him to one of the barn’s wooden columns. And by his pelvis now less. Colt shoved it in deep, crushing him with his waist. His cologne filled Jace’s nose, and the thought that he’d bit off more than he could chew briefly crossed his mind, til his base instincts override the need to survive.
Colt’s voice was icy quiet, and his bourbon-tinged breath warm and wet on Jace’s face. “Well, I’m a generous man, boy. Seems to me, you ain’t been brought up right. Well, that’s just fine. I’m very good at breeding some sense into troublesome sorts like yourself.”
The muscle-bound, cowboy king pointed to the window, specifically at a building a few yards away. “Tomorrow. That barn. Me, you, and a few of my buddies. I’ll show you what we Tamberly men do to punks like you.”
Jace smirked. “Looking forward to seeing how much of a colt you are. What kind of match?”
Colt smiled, and his his flashed with mischief and lust. He leaned in quietly. “You ever done a breeding match, boy? Yeah, it’s exactly what it sounds. You see, I’m a gentleman, so I don’t like to talk dirty in front of good company, but since you’ve got such a foul mouth, I’ll let you in on a secret, boy. Right now, my balls are fuller than an unmilked cow’S teats, and my cock is hard and ready like a bull in mating season. Loser doesn’t justg et fucked, their ass gets flooded with seed. They get claimed, do you understand, boy. I’m Colt. And your name ain’t gonna be Jace, any more, it’s gonna be mare.”
He brushed his stubble against Jace’s neck. “Can’t get a cis man pregnant, but hell, you’re gonna find out I am gonna try on you til you don’t even know where you are.”
Jace bit his lip. “You’re on, cowboy.”
—
Jace had been in weirder arenas, but this one was pretty unique. The barn was an open roof joint, more like a glorified corral with four walls. Bleachers on either side, fenced in. Could have been a rodeo ring, for all Jace knew. And all Jace knew is that he was ready to ride and break a very big pony.
As Jace entered through the gate (where the bucking bulls would have normally come charging through; adding a bit of symbolic eroticism to the whole thing) he sneered at Colt’s audience of choice: mostly ranch hands and working guys from the local community. A mix of backgrounds, but one thing in common–they were all buff, broad, big, bulky, and handsome. Beer bottles clinked together amid loud laughter.
Jace felt like a specimen, a wild cat in a zoo, being spectated. Good. It made him horny, having so much masculine attention. He walked by the handsome gang of rancheros he could find.
“Evening, papicitos. You all ready to have a good time?”
“Oh hell yeah,” they said, looking him up and down. He let them touch his chest. He gladly touched back. “You ready to get double stuffed and filled up by Colt?”
“Ha! That daddy is about to be made a boy.” Jace flexed his pecs, then plucked a beer bottle out of his admirers hands. He stuck out hi long tongue, prodding the neck, deep. “I’ll eat him out first, like this. Then I’m gonna plunge in deep.”
The handsome men snickered to each other. “Okay, kid. Well, we admire your confidence.”
“I admire my confidence too.” Jace chugged half the beer and then tipped the rest into the audience member’s mouth. “Now, suck this down.” His man’s reaction was cut short, however, by a loud pop from the other side of the arena.
Colt the Bolt entered with just his cowboy chaps and a very skimpy, very bulging cowprint number, clinging to life on his muscular body. Jace’s eyes nearly popped out of his head. “Oh, daddy.”
The other men in the room wolf whistled and hooped. Even though he looked like a Norse god had come down to work on a farm, Colt was still a bit bashful. “Aw, shucks boys. You best behave now.” He tipped his white cowboy hat to them, and then tossed it to moon-eyed admirers to his left. “I better get that back, you hear?”
Jace had no intention of behaving. He grinned like a devil about to dig into a fresh kill, and met Colt in the center of the ring.
The cowboy smirked at him. “Hmph. You actually showed up. Cute little undies you got there. Guess you didn’t come to fight like a real man.”
With that, Colt turned around, giving Jace a good look at what was behind his chaps. Colt’s muscle butt, on display. Turns out his gear was actually a cowpring thong. Jace nearly blew a load right there.
Colt bent forward and ripped his chaps off, standing up and giving Jace a good look at his rippling back and delts, which he flexed. “Gotta know your audience. What do you think, little boy? This is what a real man looks like.”
I’ll say that, Jace said, swallowing. He couldn’t tell if he was more intimidated or turned on. Maybe both.
Colt slapped his own cheeks. Sounded like hitting concrete. “Get a good look, son, cuz unless this is planted on your face for the pin, this is all you’re gonna get of my backside.”
“Hmph. Putting on a show for these horny cowboys?”
“Yup! Gay and Bi Ranch Hands. It’s a group that Buck has me donate some money too. Toughest men you’ll ever meet, and they can mix a stiff martini to boot!.” Colt winked and flexed his giant biceps for his opponent. “Course, that’s not the only thing that’s gonna be stiff here tonight.”
“Har har. I thought you liked women.”
“I love women. Treat them like goddesses. I also like pretty men. I treat them like goddesses too…except for the bad and disobedient ones.” The kind veneer broke, replaced with a dominant scowl. “Those? Like you? I treat like my fleshlight that Buck don’t know about it. I told you, you won’t have a name by the time I get through with you. Fitting punishment for someone who messes with my boy.”
“Whatever, old man. So, this is more like a streetfight then?”
“Anything goes in here, boy.” Colt nodded to a contraption in the center of the open, dirt arena, a sort of pen with a cushioned vice mechanic. “And you’re going into that, when I’m done with you.”
“And…what the hell is that?”
“It’s what we use to hold cows or horses while we get a stud to breed them. Only, you’re the filly and I’m the stud.”
“Heh. We’ll see about that. Maybe I’ll pay one of these redneck losers to snap a pic of me when I’m inside you so I can send it to your boy.”
Even Colt had to admit, Jace was a stunner. With neck length, jet black hair, covering one eye, his muscles radiated underneath the moonlight. In fact, it was almost as if the light from the open roof was drawn towards him, making him glow. The black crescent moon tattoo on his pectoral stretched and contracted with his breathing. He gave Colt look both boyishly innocent and predatory, making Colt’s knuckles clench and his cock twitch.
“Does the cowboy king like what he says?” Jace said, stretching his arms out, and flexing. He turned around and bent forward, giving Colt a good look at his bubble butt, barely constrained by his blue and black trunks.
“Don’t think it’s smart for a mare to present itself to a stallion,” Colt sniffed, confidently. Behind him, some of the boys laughed and clanked beer cans together.
“Think one horse can do me in, old man? Then you obviously don’t know Jace. They don’t call me the Lunartic for nothing!”
“Do they call you that?”
The pretty punk grit his teeth and growled. “It’s catching on!” He hopped up and down, pecs bouncing in the moonlight. “Alright. Time to make you more cow than boy.”
The bell rang and the two sex gods locked horns. Jace didn’t bother with the back and forth. He went right for the kiss, sticking his tongue directly into Colt’s mouth. The crowd reacted likewise. “OOOOH”
Colt wasn’t so easily distracted however. “You need a mint, son. You kiss like a boy, not a real man.”
Colt grabbed Jace and pulled him in for a bear hug, immediately grinding his giant, cowprint bulge against the shocked hunk. Colt smothered his mouth with his own. Bearded and bristly, his kiss was intense and violating, his tongue exploring Jace’s mouth.
“Mmmm! MMMFFF!”
Colt let stunned Jace go. “You like that, boy? Well, maybe you’ll like this!”
BOOM!
A big cowboy boot collided with Jace’s face, knocking him flat into the dirt.
“Hell yeah!” Colt said, riling up the crowd and striking a few bodybuilder poses. “Don’t need no bullets for these guns, boys,” he said, flexing his giant biceps. He grabbed his junk. “You see this? I’m all horned up and muscled up.” He bounced up and down, his pecs and bulge bouncing with him. “We like beef here in Texas, don’t we?”
The audience was losing their minds (and their loads). Colt even thought he saw some of the spectators reach down inside their jeans and start to stroke themselves. This was an aggressive, erotically charged atmosphere.
What Colt didn’t see, however, was Jace’s tattoo start to glow with silvery moonlight, matching his eyes. The hit, which would have concussed most spellbreakers, barely scuffed him, as his glyph absorbed moonlight and converted it into cellular regeneration. Jace wasn’t just renewed; he was hyped up.
And speaking of full moons: that big, cowboy butt was like a perfect target…especially what was dangling below it.
Jace sprung up behind Colt, just as a few spectators saw what was happening and tried to warn him. “Look out, C–”
WHAM!
“GAH!”
Right in the balls. Jace uppercut Colt’s jewels hard, sending him kneeling into the dirt and clutching himself like a hurt schoolboy.
“BOOO!!!” The audience jeered, chucking their beer bottles at the pretty punk. “Fuck you, kid!”
“Right at ya!” Jaced laughed, flipping the whole ring with a double-bird. “Lick my pasty ass, you fuckers,” he said, bending over and full mooning the crowd. He tugged his trunks up. They didn’t deserve to soak in the glory.
Jace didn’t stop there. He dashed over to the wounded colt and wrapped his bicep around his neck, bringing him in closer. Jace licked his neck, and nibbled on his ear. “I’ll massage them for ya, big daddy,” Jace said, cupping Colt’s tender, sore nuts. “Wow, they ARE big. Is that because they’re swollen? What a big, handsome stallion. I bet you’re gonna shoot like a firehose when my cock nails your prostate.”
Jace squeezed down harder. “Your mistake was fighting me at night. My glyph absorbs moonlight. Gives me my power. I think I’ll choke you out, nice and slow, and then–while you’re out–I’m gonna slip it in. You’re gonna wake up to me raw-dogging you.”
Red faced, and hair dangling in front of his brow, Colt grit his teeth. He’d been in sleepers before. His neck was thick as hell and could take it. Thing is, this kid was still wet behind the ears. He’d even given away his secret. What an amateur.
Absorb this, brat, Colt thought to himself. His eyes flashed golden yellow, and he channeled his electricity, turning him into a human live wire.
“Yoowww!” Jace yelped–like a dog, falling backwards with the shock. Numbed and near paralyzed, he curled up on the dirt, unable to get to his feet.
The crowd jumped up in excitement. Colt joined them. He wiped his mouth. Then, he looked down at his prey and spat right on him. “Little bitch,” he said. “I’m gonna ware your hole out DEEP for that, boy.”
BAM!
A cowboy kick to the ribs knocked the air out Jaace. Spittle flew from his mouth. Colt thought he even heard a crack. “Serves you right, boy! Now…”
Colt yanked the boy up by his hair, making him wince. “Your hair is real pretty, son.” He picked up him by the arms like he was a rag doll, and housed him above his knee. “Now, fair is fair…”
“No…NO!!”
“Let’s see how you like being neutered!”
CRACK!
An atomic drop! Jace’s legs parted, Colt’s unpadded knee went right between his legs.
“Call that one a meat hook!” Colt laughed, dropping screaming and squealing Jace on the ground. “Aww, you look like a worm down there, wriggling around. If I weren’t no baby face, I’d boot ya again for good measure.”
“Ffffuuuuck,” Jace squeaked, eyes watering, clutching his sore junk. “You bastard.”
“Did the world a favor,” Colt said, reaching down to enact more punishment. “You didn’t need to bring any spawn into this world.”
Thankfully for Jace, the pain didn’t last long. His tattoo shined with a new, luminous ferocity, converting pain into power. Jace stood, tongue hanging from his mouth like a hungry, rabid dog, and eyes pure white. Even Colt flinched at the spectacle.
“Time for a new moonphase.” Jace glowed silvery white, moving faster than Colt could tabulate. He bent forward, head outward, and speared Colt right in the abs, sending him into the audience barricade.
“MOON SHOT!” Jace roared, triumphant and wild. “Fuck yeah! That’s the power of the night!.”
Colt was winded, crumpled against the wooden partition. Around him, concerned fans shouted for him to get up.
Others leapt to his defense, throwing their beer on Jace. Splashed with liquid gold, Jace, stuck his tongue out at the offender and pulled down the front of his pants, whipping out his long, white dick. “Pour some on this, daddy!”
The angry audience member gladly obliged, bathing Jace in a steady beer flow. Jace loved it. “Hot, sticky, sweet! That’s me, boys!” He grabbed the audience member and shoved his head into his pecs. “Now, lick it off. Top to bottom. And don’t stop at my dick, either.”
“Excuse me, boy, but what did I tell you about harassment?”
Jace didn’t even have time to look around. Giant, meaty arms wrapped around his waist, crushing his pelvis and hoisting him upward. Jace saw the moonlight, distant, unable to help him as Colt injected a subtle current into his body, preventing his glyph from activating. Because Jace had assumed the cowboy was all muscle. He didn’t count on him being brawn and brains too!
Jace was only in the hair for a fraction of asecond, inverted, before his whole body was slammed back into the dirt, head and neck first. The audience winced at the sound of body colliding with Earth. Jace had been knocked out before, but never so quickly.
Colt sat up, sweat dripping down the crevass of his pecs, then spreading across his abs. He breathed, wiped the dirt from his face, and basked quietly in the crowd’s adoration, chest heaving. He was in a dangerous headspace. More animal than man.
“One more time!” the crowd of cowboys shouted. “One more time.”
Sowly, Colt raised a hand into the air, forming a number one with his finger. He smiled.
“YESSS!!!”
On the dirt, drooling and cross-eyed, Jace moaned. “Did…did I win yet?”
Colt scooped him up and propped him up onto his wobbly feet. He brushed his shoulders, gave him a kiss on the cheek, and then pivoted around for another brutal suplex.
“Ooooohhhh!” the blood-thirsty crowd shouted; some in horror, some in awe. “Colt broke that boy!”
Dusting off his hands, like he just took out the trash, Colt stepped away from the twitching boy and flexed his muscles for the audience. “Not yet, boys! You don’t think this kid–this varment–who DARED grope my boy, gets off that easily? Not sir. I AM the storm.” Feeling beastial, and hard as a rock, Colt reached down around his skimpy thong. “Fuck this. Time to go full horse.”
In one swift movement, Colt yanked his cowprint thong around his ankles and flung it into the audience. One lucky, muscle-bound truck driver caught it, took a deep sniff, and passed out with a smile on his face. Colt, now naked and covered in sweat–looking every bit the beast of his namesake–threw back his wet mane of hair and flexed for the crowd.
The poor cattle hand directly in front of him bit his lip and covered the front of his pants. “No…oh fuck I’m….GAHHH!”
Colt winked. “El Amante ain’t the only stud who has that effect on people. Now then. Ain’t ever given a naked piledriver before….” Colt reached down and picked the near-comatose Jace off the ground. “Wake up, boy. Come on now! Oh, you need help?”
Colt’s ‘help’ was slapping poor Jace’s pretty face with his throbbing horse cock. Jace’s eyes fluttered open just as his horse daddy’s head landed on his lips and deposited a bead of fresh, precum. Jace didn’t get to enjoy this before sweaty, muscle thighs gripped his head like a vice, squeezing down hard.
“Got ya, boy,” Colt growled. He yanked Jace’s trunks up into his asscrass–going from atomic drop to atomic wedgie. “Look at that tasty butt. I’m gonna fill it up. Maybe you’ll still be conscious enough to enjoy it.”
Colt inverted Jace, tombstone style, making sure the poor lad’s face was pressed right up against his cock, smearing more white fluid across his prey.
“Ok, son, you listen good. Get to suckin’ on that meat, and I’ll drop you in a way that you’ll walk out of this arena just fine…maybe not walk straight, but walk all the same.” Colt tossed Jace up an inch and caught him painfully, crushing his ribs. “If you’r bad though, I WILL end your spellbreaking run right here. Do you understand boy.”
“Unnnggghhh…yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Y-yes sir.”
“Yes WHAT, boy?
Jace sniffled. “Yes, daddy.”
Colt wasted no time burying his cock in Jace’s pretty mouth, immediately forcing himself into his t throat. After gagging, Jace found his power and, even inverted, showed Colt why he was so infamous in the underground circuit.
Colt’s eyes rolled back into his head with pleasure, and now the audience couldn’t help themselves–they whipped their own pieces out and got to jerking on the action.
After a few second of bliss, the long-haired muscle man turned to his crowd. “Don’t you fire your guns yet, cowboys–I got a task for you later. But for now, this is where this punk gets planted. I AM THE STORM!”
With those final words spoken, Colt jumped into the air and smashed his victim’s head right into the dirt.
The next thing Jace knew was a deep pain in his backside. He blinked, coming to. He wasn’t able to turn his head. He moved his neck. No use. In front of him, a crowd of muscular workmen–their pants around their boots–jerked off to this struggled.
Then it dawned on him. “No…no!” He was in the breeding hold. The device gripped his head and kept him steady.
Grunting and thrusting, Colt snarled. “Look who’s awake. Just in time to get mounted like a bitch. You nay for me boy?”
Jace couldn’t form words. It felt like an actual colt was drilling into him. He could take a lot, but this was almost too much! Pain, fortunately, gave way to an indescribable pleasure. With every thrust, Colt seemed to dig deeper into him. Jace had never felt someone this relentless, this rhythmic, go that deep. Colt’s massive balls slapped the side of his ass, and Jace’s eyes rolled into the back of his head. He couldn’t help but drool.
And his mouth wasn’t the only thing drooling either. Colt was testing the limits of Jace’s prostate.
“Better not come, boy,” Colt panted. “You better not. You aren’t allowed. I got something else in store for you.”
In front of Jace, a younger, blond ranchand with a swimmer’s build couldn’t hold back any longer. “I’m gonna come. I’m gonna come.”
Behind him, a hairy daddy (perhaps the fella’s lover) slapped his ass encouragingly. “Right onto that mare’s face.”
“Noooo,” Jace whined, on the border between embarrassment and bliss.
A sticky load covered his cheek. And it wasn’t the last one either. As Colt pounded and mounted him, a bolder cowboy shoved his mushroom head into Jace’s mouth, gagging him. Another blew his load onto Jace’s left side.
Finally, Colt grunted. “Shit. Shiiiit, boy, this is gonna be real nasty for you. Oh FUCK. OH FUCK!”
At the verge of passing out from pleasure, Jace suddenly felt something wet and warm fill him up..and further still. It was like Colt had shoved a hose up his ass and turned it on. Jace moaned. “Yes, sir. Yes! Breed me.”
Heaving and dripping sweat onto his new breeding tool, Colt pulled out as the cowboys slapped him on the back and muscle ass in admiration. Colt looked down and surveyed his work. Streams of sticky white poured out of Jace gaping hole like a tap, onto the dirt.
“Damn!” one of the ranchands said, impressed.
“Damn big load,” Colt said, with a smile on his face. “Been too long. Well, boy. Now it’s your turn. I do reward my boys.”
Jace, sore in places he never knew he had, and still dazed from being dropped too many times, could only moan.
“Told ya I’d turn him into a breeding beast,” Colt said, fiddling with the machine tucked under the breeding grip. “What’s your name again, kid?”
“Unnngggg…” was the catatonic Jace’s reply.
“You acted like an animal with my boy, and now I turned you into one. ‘Course, I don’t think you’re really much of a horse at all. More like a cow. And you know what we do to cows here?”
Colt reached under and attached the suction pump to Jace’s throbbing cock. He turned it on, and the pump went to work.
The pleasure and pressure worked in tandem, making Jace moan even more. He was already at the limit. “Unnnggg.g…UNNGNGGG!!!””
Colt sat back with his buddies and watched Jace squirt a fresh stream into the collection. And it didn’t stop either. His moans grew loader, the pleasure shifting back to pain.
“What do you say, boy?” Colt said, slapping a sticker onto Jace’s gaping, bubble butt. It read: “BRED”
Onlyt the white’s of Jace’s eyes showed as he reared his head back. “Mmmm…mmm…MOOOO!” He cried out, before the hardest orgasm he ever endured sent him back into blissful oblivion.
Milked and bred, Jace was scooped up but Colt and slung over his shoulder. “Clear a path,” the cowboy king said, taking his newest trophy out of the ring–streams of cum still leaking out of his well-bred butt. “If you think that’s where this ends, boy, you got another thing coming!”
The End
No comments:
Post a Comment