Written by ty dehner

With the rain falling hard on the roof, this lazy Saturday morning brought back a kink moment from many years ago. Laying in bed, I saw my black 5.11 lace-up duty boots, caked with mud on the soles. I was reminded of a Saturday morning when I was horny and ended up going to the woods on a solo hike, planning a little jackoff session. Back then, I really needed to get away from it all. Work was just killing me, never letting me have time to get things done as well as I’d like. And the clients, a bunch of whining babies that could go to hell for all I cared.

So, when the weekend came, I made sure it was mine! Since I couldn’t find any dungeon to play in, I decided the woods would be the next best thing. While Fall is never a great time to go hiking, it is quieter than normal, with unpredictable weather.

Saturday morning, I suited up in my green old-school army camos, including jacket and black all-leather paratrooper boots. Since this would be a solo hike, I filled my backpack with simple bondage things, like rope, handcuffs, and duct tape. Before zipping up my back, I tossed in a couple of issues of Bound & Gagged magazine. It will help inspire me as I sit in the woods and play with my manhood.

Tossing my pack into the back of my pick-up cab, I always enjoy the feeling of my boots on the pedals of my machine. Gearing up in camo is more my true self, and getting out and being a redneck is the best way to live!

Being hungry, I did the drive-through at Jack In The Box, grabbing a meat lovers breakfast burrito. That and an OJ will keep me satisfied for most of the hike. Hitting the highway, the rain would ebb and flow as I headed into the mountains.

The drive was uneventful; eating fast food while listening to my country tunes on the stereo. Turning off the highway, I have a favorite forest road that takes me deep into the forest. I can’t remember the last time I encountered anyone and have spent a few hours having fun in the mud, solo bondage and what I find relaxing.

Once I reached a secluded area, I pulled out my gloves from the compartment to put them on, as it was much colder here than at home. I exited my truck, threw my pack on my back, and locked the truck. As the drizzle was falling, I headed into the woods. There were patches of mud, and I slipped occasionally, never coming down in it. It would’ve been great to have a friend with me, and we could’ve gotten some playtime in. Rolling around in the mud, a little sucking could’ve been fun. But I needed to concentrate on my hike. It was a pretty good day, and I made good progress. I found a wilderness road and decided to follow that for a while.

Occasionally, I would hear the rumble of a truck or motorcycle in the backwoods but never encounter them. As the drizzle wasn’t stopping, I paused and rummaged through my backpack for my hat when a thundering diesel engine raced up upon me, nearly running me over. The truck was loud and black.

Spinning around to see the black Dodge 4×4 race by, I was pissed off after nearly being run off and flipped off the driver with my gloved hand. The truck immediately skidded to a stop, sliding slightly on the wet mud-covered forest road. I didn’t know what was happening. I stood there like an idiot as the driver’s door of the big black 4×4 opened.

Dressed in worn jeans, boots, a denim shirt, work gloves and a jacket, the bearded guy looked pissed as he approached. He nearly ran me over, and he’s pissed at me?!

“Who the fuck you think you are, soldier?!” he yelled as he slammed my chest with his two hands in work gloves. I nearly lost my balance. My own natural instinct took over, and I took a swing with my fist, trying to knock him on his ass. He lunged forward, swiping his leg behind mine, as he was trying to put me in a choke hold. My backpack went flying.

This guy was strong, and I didn’t know how long I would hold out. I crashed to the forest floor, feeling the wet ground and rocks as I rolled on my side. I must have had a good grip on him as he fell and landed on top of me. A couple of times, he landed his fist in my gut or chest; other times, I blocked him and tried hitting him. We were rumbling in the forest, me never getting out from under his control. The redneck finally gained the upper hand and was on top of me, pinning me down, his knees on my arms.

As I caught my bearings, I got my first look at his blue eyes; they were cold yet intense as he breathed heavily from our struggle. As I was focused on his stare, there was a flash and then a large blade of a hunting knife was in his gloved grip, pressed against my throat. He was smiling evilly.

“Fucking screwed, aren’t you, soldier,” he grinned sadistically. That is the second time he called me soldier; he must think I’m Army. “Flip me off; you pay.”

He laid the knife against my throat, pressing it into my sensitive skin. “Not much you could do now; I could cut you and leave you to die, and no one would know.”  He laughs and spits in my face.

He removes his hand from gagging my lips, and I start talking; he covers my mouth again and digs the knife deeper. “Ah, no talking. You won’t like the outcome, asshole.”

I can smell the dirt and sweat of the dirty buckskin glove he gags me. My arms are feeling pain as his boney knees weigh upon them. The knife remains as he releases my lips again; this time, he stares intensely, reminding me not to make a sound.

Watching him, he keeps his weight upon me as he reaches to grab my pack and drags it across the mud. My ass is now feeling the cold of the mud-soaked forest ground, with rocks or roots digging uncomfortably into my back. I adjusted my torso to find a comfortable spot. Still, he lifted himself and dropped back forcefully on my chest. Knocking the wind out of me caused me to grunt, which he didn’t appreciate. Dropping the pack, the guy slapped my face with his gloved hand, “Shut the fuck up!”

Remaining still, I watched as he grabbed the pack, placing it on my chest before him as he unzipped it. This guy has redneck written all over him! He’s not gonna take kindly to the gay bondage magazines that he is about to find. My solo play would not happen; I just had to remain calm and see what this asshole would do.

As he rummaged through the contents of my pack, I started to admire how handsome and rugged this guy was. His beard fully filled out his face, not a speck of gray. I got a glance at his boot, looking like White’s logger. Maybe if I offer to clean them, he will let me go.

What was I thinking? I got this redneck with a knife at my throat about to discover I’m a kinky pervert that reads bondage magazines in the woods with a bag full of bondage gear. This was not looking good. But fuck if I didn’t feel my cock getting hard in my camo pants, his redneck ass pressing upon me.

Rummaging through the pack, he found my handcuffs. “Fuck, what the hell you have in here, soldier?!”  Dandling the cuffs before me, “I think we should use these.”

He rolls me over quickly, roughly gets my hands behind me, and cuffs them. As he struggled to cuff me, my face was pushed into the muddy group, slightly scratched with the twigs and roots.

Putting his knife back into the sheath, the redneck keeps his weight on my back, pressing my face into the ground.

“Fuckin a! What the hell is this?”  He’s found my bondage magazines as I hear the pages flip. It takes him a little time as he most likely can’t believe the black and white photography that appeared in Bound & Gagged. I could hear him swearing under his breath.

Feeling the cuffs biting into my wrists at the break between my jacket sleeves and gloves, I started humping the muddy ground and soaking into my crotch. I didn’t do it too much as I didn’t want the redneck to know that I was being turned on by his taking control of me, putting me into bondage. I also didn’t want him to learn how twisted my mind was when being threatened by a redneck in the middle of the woods.

He works his knee to the back of my neck, and as I feel the rough denim on my skin, he pushes my face into the mud. Feeling his warm breath next to my ear, his voice is deep and guttural, and I can hear his desire to do something to me.

“You fucking like getting tied up, soldier? You’re a gawd damn pervert; have sex with other guys?”  He slaps my head with his gloved hand, “Don’t you?”

What could I do? I could hardly deny it, and I felt my dick growing in my pants; I was screwed. “Yes,” is all that came out.

He ground my face deeper in the dirt, “Yes, what?!”

“Yes, Sir?” now that was an interesting response from him. Did I happen upon the rare redneck that was kinky?

“I hate you fucking Army boys. You come around here camping and soldiering, thinking you’re the shit of the kings.”

“I’m not Army,” I plead, spitting the mud out of my mouth.

He pauses, “No, I fucking think you aren’t. You’re a damn faggot pervert. That makes me think I could really have fun today!”

He stands, looking down at me. The redneck kicks me in the side, pushing me to roll over onto my back. The new position pressed the cuffs into my skin, with my uniform now soaked in mud. Looking up at this bearded bear of a redneck towering over me, he lifted his lugged sole boot, dropping it into my gut.

I curl up in pain, and he stomps me again. All the time, he was yelling profanity at me. He stops and starts leafing through the magazine. Occasionally, he says something, but it is too quiet for me to hear over my breathing and moaning.

He looks at me, stepping toward me as he places the heel of his boot into my chest. That hurt like hell.

Positioning the lug soles over my lips. “Lick it.” The redneck smiles. “I want to see a guy really lick my boot. I know you do it all the time, faggot.”

I feel my dick stiffing in my soaked camo pants; this fucker is treating me how I always dreamed of. But this isn’t some bondage scene with a Master I found on the internet. This fucker is a fantasy, but he is also very real.

I’ve never licked a muddy boot sole, though I have fantasies about it; I even jerked off to the idea with dudes in AOL chat. My hard cock is taking control of my sanity; being a horny, kinky man is a dangerous thing. Those juices leak into the mind, and now I’m seriously about to stick my tongue out and lick a redneck’s muddy boot!

As his boot hovers with a small gap between my lips, I look up at his bearded face and see his interest in watching this lowlife dude in camo take my tongue to his leather work boots. For a moment, I swear I see him take one of his gloved hands and adjust his crotch. Could he actually be enjoying this?

Slowly, I push my tongue from between my lips. Unable to see what awaits the tip of my tongue, I felt the gritty mud on the toe of the redneck’s work boot. As I proceed, I press my tongue upon the leather, moving it up and curling it.

“Fuck,” I could hear the redneck whisper to himself. Moving my sight to his face, he is entranced by my action as I take large swipes with my tongue now covered with mud. The gritty dirt starts to cover the inside of my mouth as I work to keep my tongue clean with the saliva in my oral cavity.

Laying in the mud with the towering fir trees over me, the drizzle falls on the cleaner parts of the leather that I have worked hard to please this redneck. He ensured I didn’t lose attention as he pressed the boot’s heel into my chest, the cuffs biting into my wrists. With this, I am aroused by my cock sliding against the fabric of my camo pants.

Then I noticed this tough redneck grabbing his crotch with his gloved hand and squeezing. This fucker was getting into making me lick his boots. Perhaps I wasn’t in as much danger as I originally thought.

Making sure my tongue was still cleaning the muck off his boot, the redneck lowered the zipper on his jeans, pushing his glove inside. This made me anxious, for I wondered what this guy’s cock looked like. Thinking he is kinky like me, I might feel him ramming it up my ass.

After a moment, out came the naked, hairy, thick penis of the redneck. Being uncut, he was hard, with his dick being a good eight inches. I guess I’m doing such a good job on his boots that he will jack off right here out in the woods!

I pause in anticipation of his gloved hand stroking his long thick cock. This causes the redneck to press the heel of his boot into my chest, and it fucking hurts. I quickly get my tongue working to find a dirty area on the smooth black leather of his boot. As I’m licking, a splash of liquid lands on the toe of the redneck’s boot, running into my tongue. Thinking the rain is picking up, the fluid has a salty taste, and I realize he is pissing on my face.

Looking up, I see this hairy penis fully extended with a heavy flow of piss escaping and splashing on my face and the boot. This causes the mud stuck to the leather and soles to loosen, making a mud milkshake.

“Fuck, man! You are a real pig!” this redneck is surprised that I am taking all he is putting me through. His piss flows heavily for a while, then trails off to a trickle, then nothing. Shaking his cock, he drops it from his gloved hand, letting it dangle from his jeans.

Abruptly, the redneck steps away, returning to the cab of his black Dodge Ram 4×4. Reaching inside, he searches for something as I struggle in the mud, piss running down the side of my face, tasting the mud that fills the insides of my mouth. The cuffs are killing my wrists, with all the weight on my arms secured behind my back.

As I struggle to find a less painful position to lay in, I am getting more covered in the mud that is now thicker because of the added piss mixing with the rain.

Breaking my struggle, I heard the door to his truck slam shut, turning my attention to see the redneck approaching. With his manhood hanging freely from his jeans, he holds some rope as he moves with purpose to where I lay in the mud in the middle of the forest.

Dropping the rope at my feet, the redneck kneels down, grabbing my ankles as he wraps the rope tightly around my boots. Now my cock is straining, for putting me in bondage is one sure way to get me to fucking shoot my load. I love being helpless, and this guy has me guessing what will come next. This is not scripted; I am at his mercy regarding what he will do to me next.

After pulling the used white rope tightly around my ankles, he wraps it around my knees to keep my legs together. With useless legs, he tosses the rope’s end toward his truck. Grabbing my backpack, the redneck pulls out a red bandanna and a roll of duct tape.

Wadding the bandanna, the redneck rolls it in the dirt, quickly shoves the muddy cloth between my lips and stuffs my mouth full of the bandanna. As I moan, I hear the rip of the duct tape and the sticky side is slapped across my lips, pressing it against my skin; then the redneck starts wrapping the tape around my head. Ripping the tape when he has secured the wadded bandanna in my mouth, he tosses the tape into the woods.

Standing, the redneck goes through my backpack again to find the keys to the cuffs, which he does and lifts me to roll me on my side. He took the keys and unlocked my left wrist, pulling my hands out from under my back. Fuck, my muscles were stiff and sore as I moaned into the gag that was stuffing my lips.

Pulling my wrists over my head, the redneck quickly cuffs my hands. Dropping my wrists, the redneck gives me a swift kick in my left side as he continues to his truck. Lifting the rope, he takes the opposite end and secures it to the trailer hitch. After he does, he turns and looks at me with a slight grin. Looking at the bondage I am now in, I realize this is not a good position.

Struggling a little, I realize there isn’t much I can do to escape. The redneck stands and goes to his door, climbing in his lifted 4×4 truck and slamming the door. Immediately he turns on the engine, and it roars to life, echoing in the woods. He guns the engine several times, and I notice his reflection in the rearview mirror.

His arm comes out of the open window, patting his hand on the side of his door. Our eyes connect, and he gives me a thumbs up and smiles, and I hear him gun the engine.

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