By Miles Pierce

The backpacking trip had ended in disaster.

It was meant to be a reset. He had just left his job and broke up with his girlfriend and the two weeks he planned in and around the Lassen Volcanic Park were meant to be the beginning of a fresh, new phase in his life. Jake had planned his route and food meticulously and looked forward to this solitary trek.

Ten days into his hike and deep in the backcountry, he ran into a decent-sized black bear while cooking dinner.

No stranger to the California wilderness, he took the necessary precautions and strung his pack and food up. He also went back to the shore of the lake to wash off any cooking smell he might have on his clothes and body, leaving the entirety of his gear tied up high off the ground with a bear line.

It wasn’t enough.

A storm blew through, bending the trees, dropping his back. His spent a chilly night naked while letting his clothes dry and listening to the bear consume the last four days of his food. Huddled alone on the lakeshore, he listened all night as the bear chewed his stuff and heard the occasional clang of his metal gear being tossed.

To make matters worse, the storm came on big and strong with fast-moving fingers of lightning splitting the sky and cracking the air.

Jake awoke to the pink dawn, hungry and cold. He smelled smoke in the air and behind him saw the white plumes of smoke rising on the west side of the lake. A lightning strike had set off a fire and it looked like a big one.  His plan to back track out had abruptly changed.

Hungry, he put on all he had left – just his boots, t-shirt and shorts with just a knife and canteen for gear. He had a few water purifying tablets left in one of his pockets.

The bear had done a number on his things and apparently made-off with whatever was left with his backpack including his topo map and compass.

Cursing himself for being an idiot, Jake oriented against the landmarks he remembered and set out from the lake and southwest away from the fire, knowing he would eventually hit some roads.

***

The last three days had been intense.

Chewing on needles and grass to ease the constant ache of hunger, Jake had staggered into the rounded plains and high chapparal that surrounded the peaks. The winds had shifted several times, covering the area in a sooty smoke, obscuring the geologic details while driving Jake in zig-zagging path from the area like a buck fleeing a fire.

Dazed and disoriented, his water rations were gone and he began to wonder if he would be killed by the fire or die of thirst first.

In the early dusk of his third day, Jake broke through the tree line into a rough clearing. There was gravel road up to cabin that seemed to also be a construction site.

It was the first bit of civilization that Jake had seen in weeks and the relief in his taxed body almost made him drop to his knees.

As he approached the setting in his excitement, he saw something that at first made him doubt his sanity.

In the shade of two trees, suspended by steel chains, hung a naked, squat muscled man with his back toward Jake.  A pole extended between the trees and heavy metal manacles kept his arms wide apart. Jake could make out dark leather bands circling around his shaved head, held together with padlocks.

Curious and befuddled, Jake crept in closer noting that entirety of this body was covered in a sheen of sweat and nearly pink. His back, though, was a denser shade of color and his ass was crisscrossed with even darker bands of near red.  The stainless steel on his wrists was matched by a think collar soldered around his neck. The stocky figure stood in workboots with another set of manacles around his ankles connected by yet another chain.

Jake couldn’t really believe his eyes. There was no way he was imagining this but he still had never seen anything like it. Despite his bewilderment, he noticed a gallon cooler tucked up against one of the trees. Hoping for the best, Jake scrambled up, forgetting any caution in the macabre scene, desperate for water.

It was the first luck he had in days.

The water was icy cold and almost made him sick with the speed of his consumption.

In his excitement, he had brushed up against the figure and clink of the shudder of chains brought him to.

He stepped away now in front of the bound figure.  The combination of a thick  blindfold and apparent leather gag covered almost the entirety of the shaved head. Jake was then drawn to a plastic device firmly covering his penis. The sheath was transparent and Jake could see the distorted member pressing firmly against the shell. It was then he noticed for the first time that this muscled man was completely hairless. Tight sliver bands encircled his testicles, weighing them down and distending them into shiny, purple sack. If Jake would have looked even closer, he would have noticed dried white streams threaded and caked down his inner thighs.

Jake was now entirely confused and wondering what he had stumbled on.  He was gathering his thoughts and realizing that he had to do something to get this guy out of here. He started looking for a key or anything that might help him release this poor soul. It was then that he heard the all-too-familiar crunch of tires on a gravel road. Still perplexed by the entire scene, Jake scurried back to the side of the cabin.

A large dark grey truck, covered in ash and dirt, almost immediately pulled up. In the shadows of the fading light, Jake watched the truck door open as a figure in bright yellow wearily stepped out. Recognizing the dirty uniform of a forest firefighter, he saw him grab the water jug he had just abandoned and take a swig. Glancing up at the bound figure, the man took off his bulky jacket and sunglasses, his face ridged by a  black beard and apparently ruddied from the heat.  Underneath, a stained white tank top and suspenders belted a broad back. Jack watched as the man shrugged off the red elastic from his shoulders, dropping his pants revealing an ass outlined by a black jockstrap.

Wasting little time, the firefighter pulled down the strap revealing an increasingly erect cock. Spitting into his hand, the man quickly stroked it even bigger and stepped up to the man in shackles, a powerful swat on its ass signaling his intent. The response was a groan and uneasy shift of the feet from the hung figure.  The two meaty paws grabbed his hips and, in one fast thrust, the entirety of his cock stabbed into the back of the bound figure.  Jake heard a muffled wail and then watched as the firefighter began furiously pounding the prisoner’s ass. The victim stretched forward against his bonds in a futile attempt to ease the attack. Each deep plunge created a slapping sound and an audible grunt of pain.  He could see steel rings around naked man’s balls glint as they swung forward with each assail.

Obviously pent-up, the firefighter made short work of his desire making the rape brutal and efficient. In a last big thrust, the firefighter hugged the chained man closer with one arm while jerking the leather bound head back, arching his hips in a final release.  The power of this last push lifted the bound man off his feet, bowing his body against the chains and impaling his body on the rigid cock.

With utter disregard, the firefighter pulled out, strings of seed dripping to the ground off his still pulsing member, pulling his suspenders back up and picking up his jacket as the victim slumped in his chains.

Jake ducked behind the cabin and sickened by the act and even more disturbed at his own growing erection. He realized that his only chance was to follow the road away from this place and try to get help without being seen.

He waited in the closing darkness for his chance of escape.

Metal would like to thank the author, Miles Pierce, for this story. He says he was inspired to write it after reading the series The Bear Trap, by FirefighterSIR.