By ty dehner
I woke with the familiar smell of the barn that I sleep in. In the corner is a corral that Boss Kevin has customize for his property, me. I roll off my back onto my elbows and knees. Many months ago, Boss decided I will be his horse. It has been a challenge, for during the week I have a full-time job, but it is a work from home position, so Boss is able to control me completely.
This Saturday morning, I can see the small window on the side of barn that allows the morning sun to shine in. The layers of suits I am locked in start with a layer of Under Armor that is followed by a heavy rubber suit with openings for my cock, balls and ass. Next a rubber hood that has a gag that fills my mouth with a tube leading into the gag. My cock is trapped in a heavy Carrera bondage chastity device. A plug fills my ass and is locked under the rubber.
The final layer is heavy brown leather horse suit that keeps my arms and legs bent and is pretty much one piece. There is lacing on it for Boss to tighten it. The knee and elbow parts of the suit have heavy rubber pads that allow me to walk with my elbows and knees and not feel too much. The thick rubber is shaped like horse hooves and even have the iron horse shoes on the base. There is a horse shaped hood that goes over a leather hood, which is laced on. He doesn’t have me sleep in the horse shaped hood. The laces and zipper lock and Boss doesn’t use small locks they are heavy Master locks.
Continue reading The Ride
Written by ty dehner
The Winter snow was falling on the city that was turning in on this Christmas Eve. Eb’s black polished Wesco boots left tracks in the snow as he walked down the sidewalk. He stayed warm in the Langlitz jacket, the snow melting as it landed on the black leather. Wearing a black knit cap from Carhartt, he kept his gloved hands in his pocket, turning the corner onto an alley way. His steps quickened after turning the corner of an alley that showed a few signed of the season with some Christmas lights in a few windows. There was a path of trampled snow on the side of the alley that stopped at a rusted steel door under a red high wattage lamp. Taking his hand out of his pocket, Eb grabs the door handle with his tight leathered gloved hand, pulling it open and we hear the bass beat of techno music with a holiday jingle to it.
In the leather bar, Eb stomps his boots on the wet matte, knocking most of the snow off it. He is a tall silvered haired man turning 68 in the new year. He keeps his hair cut short, with a tight goatee. The heavy leather doesn’t show much of his well-toned torso. He pays for the covered charge, not even acknowledging the doorman. He swiftly enters the main room of the bar, crossing the floor as others guys in the bar part to make room for him. He lands at the bar, orders his usual craft beer, leaving a 2-bit tip. He turns scans the room and heads straight a stool that sites off to the side. He takes a seat with his right foot settling on the stool rung. Taking a drink of his beer, he holds it and just watches the action.
Continue reading Three Visits
By ty dehner
I wake slowly, out of the darkness I feel someone spit on my face. It doesn’t roll down, it just stays there, and as I focus I see the blue eyes of my Linebacker. My throat is raw as I try to reach for him but find my hands are still bound behind me. My Sir’s face is bloodied. I try to speak but can’t for I’m still gagged.
“Pig,” he gently smiles and then stands, and I see a booted foot swing over me as Sir kicks the oncoming cowboy. Struggling my body around I see more of the barn, two of the cowboys are out cold, the noose I still around my neck but the rope has been undone and strings from the ceiling loosely. As Sir fights the last cowboy, I try to stand, hoping to give any assistance I can. The cracking of some bones can be heard as Sir slams the cowboy into a post. Breathing heavily Sir steps back and the cowboy falls into a pile of horse shit, face first. Bent over and out of breath, Linebacker Sir looks at what he has accomplished and sits on a bale of hay.
Getting to my knees, then my feet, I walk to my strong Master. I look at him, as he looks up at me. Awkwardly kneeling, I lay my head in his lap. Still gagged and my hands bound, it is all I can do to let him know how much he means to me. His hand gently strokes my head.
Continue reading Over the Line – Part 5: Touchdown
By ty dehner
The clicking of the breathing from the gas mask woke me. Unsure of the time, it was morning and I felt Linebacker’s arm wrapped around me, holding me near him. The constant light breathing from the mask was all that I heard as I stretched. I could feel the smooth slick surface of Sir’s football pants against my bare skin, with his one leg wrapped over both of mine. Naked, because Sir was punishing me for not doing my work out while he was out of town for the week, that is how I was waking this morning.
I had disappointed Sir by not doing my workout while he was gone. He was not overly pissed but there was some punishment doled out when he returned home last night. My sleeping naked is strong statement from him, because we both love gear and for me not to be in it also disappoints him. As I woke more, I rolled over and looked at my gas masked Linebacker sleeping. Slowly, I worked my way down to his crotch, under the blankets of our bed. Gently working the laces on his pants, I got his beautiful dick out and was able to take it in my mouth. While lightly toying with his dick with my tongue, I reached up and covered the breathing port on Sir’s gas mask. As the air was missing, he shuttered awake, his gloved hands reaching down and stroking my shaved head. Sir rolled on his back and let me continue his wake-up call.
Continue reading Over the Line – Part 4: Fourth Down
By ty dehner
It is so fucking quiet; I can only hear my breathing. Seems I am so alone, no one around for miles. This is hard work and my gear is pretty soaked in sweat. I’m tired as shit, Sir is the toughest boss I’ve ever worked for. But the rewards are fucking awesome in the end.
The crew has left for the day, as I see Sir heading down the gravel road in his truck to pick me up. He really gave me the shit job today, literally. Cleaning outhouses is not the glamour job in construction, but as a pad pig, it is my job. Once every two weeks. There are 20 across the sites that Sir oversees. It is amazing how messy these guys are, though I admit I get a little horny thinking of them in their Carhartt’s, boots, jeans and muddy work overalls doing their business in these outhouses. When I work in these I have to wear rubber gloves and gas mask that Sir requires I wear while cleaning. The guys on the crew think I’m nuts for wearing it, but it is required, and I do it. I think Sir has me do it, because it humiliates me some and he likes that on occasion.
This week I’m in my black Carhartt overalls with, of course, my football pants and cup, with my uniform jersey on underneath. Even though it was warm out, I am required to keep my flannel shirt and Carhartt coat on, as well as work gloves. I’m still breaking in my new White’s lace up boots. Sir had them custom done with a small leather strap at the top that locks the boots on. My work uniform is finished off by a Packer’s cap that Sir soaked in his piss before letting it dry. On days that I work hard or am wearing the gas mask my sweat mixes with the dried piss and I do begin to smell!
Continue reading Over the Line – Part 3: Third Down
By ty dehner
It wasn’t hard to spot him as I came down the jet way. A smile came across his face as he saw me, and we hugged for a long while. He even kissed me briefly as not to startle too many of those conservatives in the terminal. His hand held my neck securely as we walked away from the gate. He certainly did look great. He was in a nice pair of Wranglers that stacked well on his black boots. I was a bit surprised at the size of his belt buckle which he joked would be ripping up my ass some night. He was, of course, in a football jersey, team colors of the Roughriders. His hat, also of the Roughriders, was well worn. We headed out of the terminal, out to his Ford F250 and out of the airport.
As he drove me around the city, showing me the sites, he would reach over and grab my hand. We would hold hands, on occasion squeezing to let each other know we were finally touching again. It was fun seeing this new city, him knowing all the interesting spots. At one point we stopped and went for a walk around Fort Calgary. Many times, I couldn’t take my eyes off my Linebacker Sir. We returned to the truck and while driving past the Saddle Dome, he told me that we will be in town for the Stampede in a few months and that the rodeo is exciting!
Continue reading Over the Line – Part 2: Second Down
By ty dehner
Long distance, I hate those words. There never seems to be anything positive about the two of them. We know it costs money anytime you want to talk to someone on the phone, long distance. Then there is that night you meet a hot guy, a guy that looks fucking awesome in his jeans and football jersey, a guy that grabs you by the neck, spits in your face then slams his tongue down your throat, trapping you in the spell of is blue eyes.
That night that you go back to his hotel room and talk all night, lying in the pair of football pants he allows you to wear that he has sweated in for weeks while working out in the gym. Nothing matters but lying next to him, laying your head on his chest as you listen to him breathing and sharing his life with you. In the morning as you’re driving home, it dawns on you that he isn’t from your city and if you want things to continued, yes, it has to be a long-distance relationship. You see, long distance is never good.
Yea, I was a fool for allowing me to be sucked in, but when you meet the right guy, you must believe don’t you? But damn if the Gods didn’t conspire against us.
Continue reading Over the Line – Part 1: First Down
By ty dehner
My gloved hands gripped the bar holding 150 pounds of weights. I was on my last rep. As I exhaled and started to life, Sir pushed his cock into my mouth and down my throat. My arms burned as I got the weight to the top and waited for Sir to piston his cock in and out of my throat five times before I could bring the weights down. Once my throat cleared I inhaled through my mouth, and I could taste the leather, sweat and pre-cum of my Master. He smiled as he looked down at me, wearing his full motorcycle cop duty uniform. His gloved hands lightly tapped my cheek. The heavy leather hood I was locked in had a hole for my mouth that is open when I do my workouts and has eye holes. The rest of my head is encased in leather.
The next rep repeats what Sir did, but he quickens the pace of this pistoning, then faster for the next. On the last lift he slams his cock in deeper, piston-style, quickly shooting his load down my throat as my arms burn and struggle to keep the weight above me. When he pulls out, I drop the weights on the stand and Sir slaps my face hard before telling me I did a good job.
Continue reading Motoboy’s Workout