Jackson rolled over on the roof of the party boat. All the frats and girls around him were still snoozing after another night of summer partying on the lake even though the sun was well up and already hot. He stretched his muscles, tousled his mop of blond hair and threw aside his sleeping bag to reveal his muscled, football-player build clothed in a light cover of golden hair. He tucked his morning hard-on under the waistband of his board shorts. His hand brushed his own beefy pecs briefly as he looked around until he spotted the drone stuck in the brush just above the shoreline where the boat was moored.
Shasta Lake is a popular destination for vacationers and college students in rented houseboats. The boats congregate in the steep-sided flooded canyons that make up the vast reservoir in the forested foothills. Each arm of the lake is named for the source that pours water into the vast and complex reservoir: Pit River Arm, Sacramento Arm, Jones Valley Arm, Salt Creek Inlet.
This party boat was moored deep into the Salt Creek Inlet which was close enough to nearby campgrounds and stores to keep the college group easily supplied with beer and snacks the whole weekend.
Continue reading The Drone – Part 1
One hand darted across the keyboard, tapping out orders as fast as the fingers could find the buttons. The slave waited for the instructions to appear on the screen but already knew what was to happen. Some of the items were already jumbled on the floor around the base of the chair.
The typing stopped, the Master was breathing heavily, staring at the slave.
Justin got down on his knees and began rummaging through the items on the floor, and then opened a box next to the chair. Inside were many black leather restraints. Justin glanced up at the tablet to make sure he was pulling the right items. He strapped the wrist restraints on, the leather collar around his neck with the slave dog tags. He pulled out a leather ball stretcher strap and sat back in front of the Master’s chair spreading his legs. The Master’s fingers tapped at the keyboard:
“Punch your balls.”
Continue reading Master in the Chair
Summer nights dragged on more than winter nights it seemed. It was not that the night was so long, but the sounds mixed with the heat lingering in the camp kept the slave up long past the time he should have slept. Crickets whined all around the fenced compound where the Captain’s tiny cabin stood and the wicked laughter of coyotes echoed through the canyons near and far. The sound would first be of one lone coyote calling out in short howls then he would be answered by a yip or a bark.
Continue reading The Bear Trap: Summer Nights
Part 4: The Beast
Travis heard more than saw the slave called The Beast.
The blond jock had been on the ranch for months now. His cock weighed heavy inside the clear plastic chastity device, his shaved balls swollen with loads of cum waiting for release. His muscled body, built strong by years of demanding football coaches, was now at its peak. The guards and Masters of DZ Ranch had seen to that, honing him with precision workouts and a full schedule of hard labor in the oak studded confines of the remote ranch under the snowy gaze of the volcanic peaks of Lassen and Shasta in far Northern California.
Continue reading DZ Ranch Land and Cattle Company – Part 4
Travis knew it was too late, but he was already inside the gate.
Sweat dripped down his pits into his tight grey tank top and stained the edge where it tucked into the tight Wranglers, cinched up with a brown belt and a big rodeo buckle won back in high school. The wet tank revealed his smooth skin spread tightly over his wrestler’s build, still white despite the days of drinking out on the lake that summer.
Continue reading DZ Ranch Land and Cattle Company – Part 1 to 3
Part 9: Work
“Only 3 more feet!” shouted the Captain just before he began swinging the pick again. The slave did not look up but continued to shovel the dirt and rocks out of the trench he was buried in up to his knees. The sweat ran down into his face and made it hard to see. But when he did take moment to look up, he could see the Captain was right.
Continue reading The Bear Trap – Parts 9 and 10
Part 7: Destiny
Ben idly scratched his thick beard as he turned over inside the cage, the midnight moon covering the garden and hills beyond the grid of bars with silver light. He reflected on the last few hours.
The Captain had returned from a week away on a large fire that had been burning in the mountains to the west, a range that cut off the Bear Trap Ranch from the blanket of cool moist fog along the coast.
Continue reading The Bear Trap – Parts 7 and 8
Part 4: The Cadre
In the dry hills of California, water is the factor that determines success or failure.
In June, the last wildflowers have gone to seed and the grass in the meadows is gold, dry and brittle. The brush begins to take on a grey tint, and even the huge oaks drop leaves under the hot sun to preserve their lives through the six months without rain. The valley beyond the Bear Trap Ranch begins to resemble a parched African savannah, and one might almost glimpse zebras and elephants milling in the midday heat ripples rising from the valley floor.
Continue reading The Bear Trap – Parts 4 to 6