By Mister-X/Spartan

The spring term at college was coming to an end. We were all looking forward to the summer break. My roommate was from a ranching area, and he had invited me to spend the summer helping out at his ranch. I’d never been on a real ranch before and was looking forward to it.

I was secretly turned on by bondage, but had never let anyone else know that. I certainly kept that from my roommate, as well as everyone else. Even when I was living at home I made sure to keep that from everyone else. My home was on the other side of the country. My roommate’s home was several hundred miles away. I would be riding with him in his pickup.

Finals over, I realized that most of my things would not be suitable to take with me to his ranch, so I rented a temporary storage space and put them in. I was only going to take my few suitable clothes, jeans, a couple of western shirts, underwear, my leather jacket, as well as my normal shaver, toothbrush and paste, deodorant, nothing much. I realized I was going to need to do some shopping to get some more suitable clothes.

I was finished with my finals before my roommate, and had to wait for him to finish and get his things packed so we could leave. That’s when I did my shopping for extra clothes. I wanted to be prepared. I found the western shirts to be more slim-fitting than the others I owned, something I found that I liked. I found the cowboy boots to be a little too roomy, and realized I would need to buy some bulkier socks to have on when I was wearing the boots. My roommate said that I would be hired just like any of the other ranch hands. I was in good shape physically, and my roommate figured that I wouldn’t need much training before I fit in.

We spent that last Friday night of his last final exam still at the dorm before leaving the next morning. It was going to take most of that day to make the drive. We got to his ranch as the sun was setting, and were just in time for dinner. That’s when I got introduced to everyone. I could see that it was a pretty good sized operation.

When Sunday morning arrived I realized that I should have checked first before doing my packing. Everyone at the ranch went to church on Sunday, and they all wore a white shirt and tie, not only to church, but kept on all the rest of the day. My roommate never did this at college, so I didn’t know. When I told my roommate that I’d packed those away and didn’t bring them with me, he loaned me one of his shirts and ties. He was a little smaller than me, so I knew it would be a tight fit. It was a western-type white shirt, which made it tighter yet. Plus I found that the shirt was heavily starched, something I wasn’t used to. But I made do, though it was uncomfortably tight. When my roommate saw me, he seemed to be amused at my discomfort. I saw him sneak a peek at where my cock was, and I wondered if that was giving away my secret.

I knew how to ride a horse, introduced to them by my mother and sister, and the ranch had a spare one for me to use. The next day, after the early breakfast, my roommate had my horse saddled up and ready for me to get acquainted with it before riding out to see the ranch. It was a cattle ranch, and was pretty big, or at least I thought it was. At this time the work consisted of repairing fences, periodically checking the cattle to see that they were all right, and other odd tasks. Given the size of the ranch we also had to make preparations for the time it took to travel to the far reaches, having enough water and food should we not be back in time for lunch.

This was the case for my first day of checking the far reaches of the place. We rode along the fence to check for any places where the fence needed to be repaired, and that took several hours, given the size of the ranch. I soon got to know my horse, and it got to know me. My roommate said that the fence checking was done once a week. We found a couple of places where there was a minor problem, but nothing major, like an opening in the fence. Then we came across a cow whose neck was stuck between two strands of barbed wire. We stopped, and with me holding apart the strands with my hands, which were in borrowed leather gloves, my roommate was able to get the cow’s head out. When I saw that cow I thought of that saying “the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence.” That cow obviously had thought so.

At the far corner of the ranch we stopped for lunch. It was a higher area, and we were able to get a good look at the surrounding bush. My opinion of a cattle ranch was from the western movies, where it was just scrub grass and nothing else. Here there were bushes as well as a few trees, with lots of grass in between. But what I noticed most was the heat. I was wearing a cowboy hat to keep my head protected from the sun, but it was still pretty hot. We went through a lot of liquid, and I was sweating quite a bit in my clothes.

We got back to the ranch house in late afternoon. My roommate showed me where to put my horse, and how to care for it. Again, I was somewhat used to riding horses, so it wasn’t new for me, but I needed to know where the horses were kept and where the feed was kept, as well as where to scrub the horse down.

The next day was spent checking out other ranch activities, ones that other ranch hands were busy doing. By the time the week was up I had gotten to know the routine chores that were done. That Friday night was when I got to accompany the ranch hands to town. Being one of the young guys and new to the place, as well as being in good shape, I got eyed by a lot of people at the bar. My roommate filled me in on the various people there and acted as a sort of protector. He told me that there would be plenty of time in the summer to sow any oats I wanted to.

Sunday meant dressing up again to go to church. I had been told by my roommate to just leave my dirty clothes and they would be cleaned for me at the ranch. I had done that, and when I got my shirts back I again found that they were heavily starched, not just the white shirt I’d borrowed from my roommate but also the cotton western shirts I’d bought. I wasn’t sure that I was going to like that, but I couldn’t very easily complain about the free laundry service.

The next day meant doing our weekly ride along the fence to check it again. Out at the far end of the ranch we came across a place where the fence had been opened. This looked like something that had been done deliberately. I wondered if they still treated cattle rustlers in this day and age the way they did in western movies. When I asked my roommate that, he said that sometimes they did hang them. The thought of that got my cock stirring. He seemed to be a little amused when he said that, so I wasn’t sure whether he was kidding me or not.

We didn’t have the necessary equipment to repair the fence properly, but we set about repairing it as best we could to try to prevent any cattle from straying out through the opening. Then we rode on to see if there were any more problems. There weren’t, and when we got back we reported the problem so it could be fixed properly the next day. There was a lot of concern about this. There hadn’t been a problem like this in some years.

The next day my roommate figured I might as well go with the repair crew to get introduced to mending the barbed wire fence. It would be a test of my skills and my leather gloves, not to mention the leather chaps that I would be wearing, something that I hadn’t purchased, but which I borrowed. It was my first time wearing leather on my legs, strapped tightly over my jeans, and I liked it. I also had my leather jacket on as well. I knew that I would be needing protection when handling the barbed wire.

We were able to get the fence repaired. Or rather, the work crew was able to do so with a little help from me. I at least got to see what the process was for doing this. The fun part for me was wearing the leather. I was getting turned on by it. But on that hot day with that extra leather gear, I was pretty hot. When the work crew saw that I was getting too hot, they recommended that I take the bandana, which was in my back pocket, put a few drops of precious water on it to get it wet, and tie it around my neck to keep cool, something that they did. I tried it and found that it did help cool me down, though it was a little uncomfortable having that heavily starched cotton bandana around my neck. Those cowboy hats helped keep the sun out, but weren’t enough to keep me cool in that heat.

The work took all day, and we had brought water and our lunch out with us. The sun was sinking by the time that the hole had been repaired. The talk on the way back was of who was doing this, and how many cows had been stolen as a result. The crew was in an angry mood. I wouldn’t want to be the guy who they suspected of doing this. I realized then that my roommate probably wasn’t kidding me when he said that they still sometimes hung cattle rustlers.

The next day was spent getting an inventory as best they could on the number of cows on the ranch. It wasn’t easy to do in that huge place, but they wanted to get some idea of how many were missing. I didn’t see how that would be possible, given the size. I never heard what the results were. The rest of the week was spent on the same usual tasks that the rest of the previous week had been spent doing.

When my roommate and I went out on the weekly fence inspection again, we found it broken in another nearby place. It was obviously someone who was doing this. This was not good. This was getting serious. We rode on, but didn’t find any more. When we got back we reported it, and this time my roommate’s father, who owned the ranch, decided to call in the sheriff. My roommate tried to convince him that we could take care of it on our own, but his father ignored him. When the deputy arrived we all rode out to the break, and the deputy checked for any evidence. He went to the other side, an area that was public land, to check for any tire tracks. He found some, rode back to his car, and came back with material so he could take plaster casts of the tire tracks. It was dark by the time we returned.

The next day I rode out again with the work crew to repair the damage. I was again dressed in the leathers on this hot day. I was noticing a bit of an attitude starting to develop between the other ranch hands and myself. I thought about this, and realized that the problems coincided with my arrival. I wondered who else had gotten here from college, or wherever they were away at, and needed money for something. But I knew that until the guy was caught I was not going to be too welcome at the ranch. I was starting to get a little concerned about this.

That Friday night when we went to town I was pretty much avoided. And the others were saying things at the bar to their friends, and their friends started avoiding me as well. It certainly was a lot chillier reception than I’d gotten the previous week. My college roommate didn’t seem to notice.

Back at the ranch meant back to the usual work on Saturday, and going to church again on Sunday, keeping our Sunday finest clothes on all day. I wondered what we would find on our ride out along the fence on Monday. I didn’t get much sleep Sunday night, thinking about that.

That Monday I noticed my roommate was also exhibiting concern as we got our horses and were mounting. When we got out to that far end, adjacent to the public land, there was another opening in that fence. When we saw that, both of us shouted an expletive. This time we galloped straight back rather than continuing our journey along the fence looking for other problems. My roommate’s father called the sheriff, and soon we were riding out there again. The sheriff just found the same evidence as before, newer made, but nothing different.

When I rode out with the work crew the next day they were openly hostile toward me. I finally told them that I didn’t have anything to do with this, that it had to be someone else who had recently arrived. I asked how we could find out who the new arrivals were in the area, but they weren’t any help in determining this. It seemed like they’d already found the person responsible, namely me.

Thinking about it that night, I decided to ride out to that place every day to find out when it was occurring and possibly to find out who was doing it. I figured I was going to have to take an active interest in finding the culprit in order to become welcome here again. I told my roommate this, and he agreed that it was something that needed to be done. He said that he would like to accompany me, only he was starting to see someone in town, and his evenings were being taken up with that.

That evening after the normal work day and dinner I got a flashlight and rode out to where the fence breaking was occurring. I figured that I needed to have the extra leather protection in case it was needed to deal with the break in the barbed wire. I stayed there several hours, but didn’t see or hear anything. I continued doing that every night until Friday. I went to town as usual with the others and was shunned as usual, staying in the corner by myself. When we got back to the ranch, I rode out, even at that late hour, and again found the fence to be in good repair.

Saturday night’s visit also went off without an incident. When Sunday came, after church and lunch, I decided to ride out again to check the fence. I was still dressed in shirt and tie, and decided I could ride this way, though I again put the leather chaps on over my jeans and put on my leather jacket as well as the leather gloves. When I got to the fence I found that it had been broken, and saw a pickup with a horse trailer parked in the public area on the other side of the fence. I wasn’t armed, but decided to quietly get closer to it. I noticed the license number, and saw that there was a cow in the trailer. I checked it, and saw that it had our brand on it. I didn’t see anyone else around, but while my attention was focused on looking at the trailer, I didn’t hear the riders until they were almost on me. It was the other ranch hands.

Before I could say anything the front one, who had been galloping up, pulled a gun, pointed it at me, and shouted “stick your hands in the air, you damn rustler!”

I complied, but said “you got it wrong. I just rode out to see if anything was up and found this car here with one of our cows.”

“I don’t believe it. Now put your hands behind your back.” Soon I had them tied behind me. I heard one of the other ranch hands say, “Let’s hang him.”

I shouted “no! I’m innocent!”

The guy who had said to hang me untied his bandana and gagged me with it, pulling my bandana from my pocket to tie it around my head to keep the other stuffed in my mouth. Finished, he said, “You can’t claim innocence. We caught you red-handed.” One of the other ranch hands was making a noose out of the rope he had with him. When I saw that I started running away, which wasn’t easy in those cowboy boots, but one of the other ranch hands just rode his horse behind me, twirled his rope above his head, and threw it around my body, pulling it tight. I now had my arms tied tightly to my side, in addition to having my hands tied behind me while gagged. The guy started pulling me back to the others, walking the horse slow enough for me to keep up. I was trying to tell them I was innocent, but couldn’t get many intelligible words out through the bandana gag.

In the meantime I saw that the guy who had made the noose had gone over to a nearby tree and had thrown the noose end of the rope over a large branch and was in the process of tying the other end around the trunk of the tree.

When I was back with the others, they picked me up and put me on top of my horse. I continued trying my best to talk into that gag, but there still was not much intelligible coming out. They led my horse over to that noose that was hanging down and put it around my neck. They undid the other end of it and pulled it taut. I was sweating bullets.

 

To be continued …