July 30, 2014, 7 p.m.
High Desert: Back in the Saddle Again
E - Words: 3,109 - Last Updated: Jul 30, 2014 Story: Complete - Chapters: 15/? - Created: Jul 16, 2014 - Updated: Jul 16, 2014 268 0 0 0 1
About the KB brand: A backward K-B brand is one where the K is backward, the B faces forward (the regular way), and they share a "spine." This brand would be simple enough to be easy on the cows (complex brands, like complex tattoos, are painful) and hard for rustlers to alter with a running iron.
The next morning almost everyone showed up for breakfast, but Blaine wasnt there. Kurt spent the morning finding reasons to hang out in the main room of the lodge hoping to get a glimpse of him, but he never showed. Finally, Kurt wandered out around the buildings and into a pasture where he spotted a tall, shirtless, dark-haired man squatting on his heels and doing something fiddly with a length of barbed wire fence.
The man had deeply grooved back muscles that flexed as he pulled on the wire fencing. With one hand he held the wire while, with the other, he wrestled to twist something plastic and brightly colored onto it. The morning air was still cool, but sweat ran in rivulets down his magnificent back. Finally, the plastic doodad popped onto the wire, and the man hammered it into the fence post with two hard strokes of a hammer. Then he stood and turned around, flexing his back as he stretched.
His abs were unbelievable.
Kurts mouth dropped open. The men on this ranch could outfit their own gay pride float. They could be a Chippendales calendar. They could replace the entire cast of Cocky Boys.
The man saw Kurt staring, and he grinned. "You must be Kurt. Dont let my wife catch you looking at me like that."
Kurt gave a rueful grin, "Sorry."
"Dont be. Im vain enough to enjoy being admired." The man bent down and grabbed his shirt where he had discarded it on the ground. He mopped the sweat off of his face with it, then pulled it on. Kurt wondered whether he was losing his mind, since all these actions that should be disgusting seemed so...manly...out West. Kurt was going to have to rethink his type.
"How did you know who I was?"
The man shrugged. "Most straight guys dont look at me like Im a prime steak just off the grill, and there arent enough gay men around here that word doesnt spread." He stuck out his hand, "Hi, Im Mike. Im one of the ranch hands. You might have met my wife, Tina. She works in the lodge."
Kurt shook Mikes hand, "Ive met her; shes very nice."
"So what are you doing out here?"
"Im looking for Blaine."
"I figured as much." Mike pointed down the fence line. "He went to treat a calf. If you follow this fence for about half a mile, you should run into him. Watch your step, though." Mike pointed to a pile of what was clearly cow manure not three feet away from where Kurt was standing.
Kurt thanked Mike and began his walk along the fence line, keeping a close eye on the ground. He heard birds and crickets chirping and the buzzing of locusts, and he hummed along with them in a light rendition of "Oh, What a Beautiful Morning." After hed been walking for a while he stopped, because something small on the ground caught his eye. It was bright green and perfectly round. Curious, Kurt bent down and reached through the fence to grab it.
He just had it in his grasp when a low, clear voice warned, "Hold it!"
Kurt froze as Blaine galloped up on a large reddish horse with a black mane and tail. Kurts breath caught at how handsome he looked, sitting erect with his thighs gripping the bay and his forearms flexed from holding the reins. Blaine drew his mount to a halt close to where Kurt was crouching. "That fence is a hot wire. If you brush up against it, youll wish you hadnt."
"Its an electric fence?"
"Yup."
Kurt eyed the fence closely as he slowly drew his arm back. Once all of his limbs were safely on the same side, he stood shakily.
Blaine pointed to one of the bright yellow doohickeys that Kurt had seen Mike drive into a fence post earlier, "Those things there are insulators. If a wire is going through an insulator, you should assume its electrified. Most of the time they dont bite much; you can touch it, and it will hurt like a son of a bitch, but its not dangerous. Sometimes things happen to the circuit, though. Its best not to take a chance."
"Oh, I see. Thanks." Kurt remembered that the ranch had sent a packet to his apartment before he left New York with a page titled, "Important Warnings." Unfortunately, Kurt had been feeling pretty passive aggressive about the entire vacation, so he had refused to look at that page or any of the other advance information they had sent. Now he wished he had been a little more diligent.
"What were you reaching for, anyway?" Blaine asked.
"Oh. Oh." Kurt held out his hand to show the item to Blaine. It looked like a Cheerio--not the cheerleaders at Kurts high school, but the breakfast cereal--but it was green and clearly made of something like rubber. "Do you know what this is?"
Blaine barked out a laugh, "Yeah, I know. You dont know?"
Kurt shook his head.
"Its an elastrator."
Kurt cocked an eyebrow quizzically, and Blaine laughed again.
Even if he was mocking Kurt, Blaines laugh was still the most beautiful sound Kurt had ever heard.
"Give it here," Blaine held out his hand, and Kurt placed it in his palm, trying to ignore the spark from brushing his fingertips over Blaines calloused palm.
Blaine reached into his saddle bag and pulled out a devise that looked a little like a paper hole punch, only it had three short prongs at the tip. Blaine pressed the cheerio over the prongs and squeezed the handle. It must have been difficult, because his forearms strained at the pressure, but the force of squeezing the handles forced the prongs apart so that the green elastrator stretched into a ring about an inch in diameter.
"If you have a bull calf," Blaine explained, "you pop this over a testicle and in about twelve hours you have a steer."
"They just...fall off?" Kurt was horrified and fighting the urge to cup himself.
"Yup."
"How-how-how can you just do that to a bulls...you know?"
"A hamburger doesnt magically appear on a plate, Kurt. Bulls arent very good eatin. Steers are. Come on up here. We can ride to the chute, and Ill show you how we work calves." Blaine slipped his foot out of one stirrup and reached a hand down to Kurt.
Kurt hesitated for a second. He knew that he would probably never enjoy a steak again after Blaine got done with him, but he also couldnt resist the opportunity to spend more time with him. It had only been a day, and they had hardly talked even though they had made love, but Kurt feared he was falling hard. Slowly, he nodded.
Kurt had watched enough old John Wayne movies (and a few Clint Eastwood spaghetti westerns) to have a vague idea about how to mount a horse. Taking Blaines hand, he put a foot in the stirrup and swung up behind him, landing behind the seat with the cantle pressed up against his crotch.
Kurt looked for a place to put his hands. He entertained then discarded the notion of wrapping his arms around Blaines waist. He settled on placing both hands on Blaines thighs, feeling the sun-warmed jeans beneath his hands and the flex of the muscles as Blaine reined in the horse and set it to walking.
"Put your feet in front of mine, so you dont accidentally kick Hondo in the flank," Blaine commanded.
It took Kurt a minute, but he put together that it would be bad to kick the horse--who was apparently named Hondo--and that he could sort of wrap his legs a bit around Blaines to prevent that. That touch of leg, his hands on Blaines thigh, the pressure on his cock from the hard leather of the saddle, the burn of his thighs from stretching across the horse, and the rocking of the gait just about brought Kurt to orgasm then and there. In that ecstatic moment, Kurt couldnt believe he tried to give this trip away. He needed his head examined.
They rode further away from the main ranch until they arrived at a weird looking corral made from flat planks instead of lodge poles. It was semicircular in shape, but it funneled at one end into a curved hallway of sorts that ended in a metal contraption. The contraption had solid metal "walls" about a third of the way up that segued into vertical metal pipes, such as those seen in Old West drawings of hoosegows, except the pipes were much farther apart. At the end of the hall was a narrow opening to the outside, about two feet wide.
Blaine pulled Hondo to a halt, and holding the reins in one hand, he put the other hand on top of Kurts, where it gripped Blaines thigh. In a move that nearly tumbled Kurt from the horse, he pulled Kurts hand to his mouth and kissed it. Then he said, "Swing down," tightening his grip on Kurts hand to give him some purchase.
Kurt dismounted easily, although his thigh muscles twinged slightly from being spread so widely. He was probably going to feel that tomorrow. Blaine dismounted right behind him, looping the reins loosely over a fence post so that Hondo could graze, but he couldnt wander away.
Blaine unlatched a large, metal fence, and it swung easily on its hinges. Blaine made a gesture for Kurt to enter the corral, and when Kurt walked through the gate, Blaine closed it, putting Kurt inside the corral, and Blaine outside.
"Youre the calf, now. This section of the corral is called the crowd pen," Blaine explained.
Blaine moved around to the "hallway" end of the corral, and Kurt couldnt see what was happening, but he heard the rattle of chains and the clinking of iron poles.
"Walk on up the chute," Blaine called, and Kurt began walking up the narrow part of the corral, being mindful to avoid little bovine landmines as he went. At the end of the Tim Burtonesque hallway was the opening which appeared to be made from metal sheets welded to long pipes.
"Go out through the opening head first, like you would if you were a cow," Blaine instructed.
Kurt bent over at the waist and poked his head through the hole in order to crawl out. There was a loud noise and movement, and suddenly Kurts head was caught in the gate, which had closed in rapidly from both sides. He was not held tightly, in fact, he had completed freedom to move his head up and down the length of the doors, but they were tight enough that Kurt could not pull his head back or push his shoulders through. He was stuck there, bent at the waist.
"This is called a squeeze chute," Blaine explained. "A calf walks up here, puts their head through, and theyre caught. Then we collapse the gate..." Blaine reached up and Kurt suddenly felt pressure on his side. It was the weird, canted wall, being pulled over so that the vertical pipes pressed against Kurts shoulder, his waist, and his hip. Now Kurt couldnt move at all. "Once we have the calf like this," Blaine continued, "we can inspect them, brand them, treat them, whatever we need to do."
Kurt swallowed down the panic that automatically rose from being immobilized so thoroughly. Blaine was just showing him, and Kurt could trust him. He was pretty sure. Kurt forced himself to breath normally.
"Dont they kind of freak out when you catch them like this?" Kurt asked.
Blaine looked thoughtfully at Kurt, and an undefinable expression crossed his face. Then Kurt felt Blaines hand rest on the back of his neck and his breath caught from the touch. "They do at first, but we always take a minute to settle them down by stroking their back and rubbing their ears," Blaine replied, and Kurt felt Blaines hand slide firmly down his spine and then lower, coming to rest on Kurts ass.
"What if they dont go up into the chute?" Kurt asked. He felt Blaine take his hand away, then he heard a whistle and a crack, and he felt a gust of wind against his cheek. He closed his eyes reflexively, and when he opened them, he saw that Blaine was holding a bull whip.
It was oddly titillating. And scary as Hell.
"We dont have to use it much, and usually the sound is enough to drive them up." Blaine set the whip down and stroked Kurts back one more time.
"What do you do once you have them here?"
"First," Blaine answered, coming around so that he was standing in front of Kurts head, and Kurt tried very hard not to notice that he was eyeball to groin with Blaine, "we calm them, and then we check them for pink eye." With that, he put a hand on each side of Kurts face and ran his thumbs over Kurts eyebrows. "Then we check for horns," he continued, running his fingers up and scratching a little into Kurts scalp, "And we mark their ears." Blaine ran his fingertips down the hard cartilage on Kurts ears and tugged his earlobes lightly.
Blaine reached down and picked up a length of rope, "If theyre still scared and acting wild, well put a lariat over their nose and pull it down so that they cant move their head." Blaine brought the loop near Kurts head, then he shook his head and tossed it back down.
"Then what happens?" Kurt asked huskily.
Blaine walked around out of Kurts line of sight, and in a second he felt a hand on his hip again. Then he felt the pipe against his hip press in slightly, and then the pressure there was gone entirely. Kurt realized that Blaine had removed the pipe.
"Then," Blaine continued, still stroking Kurts hip, "we vaccinate them." He pushed a finger firmly into the muscle on Kurts ass to emphasize the spot. "Then we brand a backward K-B on their hip, right here," he flattened his hand on Kurts flank and pressed down slightly. "And then we check to see if we need the elastrators." With that, Blaine reached around and cupped Kurts package.
If Kurt could have moved, he would have jumped. Instead, he stood immobile, bent in half, as an electrical shock jolted through his body. Blaine began to squeeze slightly, and Kurt felt all the blood in his body rush to his cock. At that instance, he was grateful that something beside his own strength was holding him up.
Blaine kept him that way for a length of time Kurt couldnt begin to estimate, gently squeezing and fondling his steadily growing cock and testicles through his jeans with the one hand while stroking up and down Kurts back with the other. Then Kurt heard Blaine take in a sharp breath, and all of the touches were gone.
"This is messed up," he heard Blaine mutter.
Suddenly the wall moved away from Kurts body and he could move his lower half again. Then he heard a scraping noise and the pipes around his neck released. As Kurt stood, the entire front of the chute opened like a door, and Blaine came around into view.
"Im sorry," Blaine said, color high in his cheeks. "I shouldnt have done that. I dont know what I was thinking."
In response, Kurt reached out a hand, grabbed the front of Blaines shirt, and hauled him against him, chest to chest. Then Kurt kissed him long and deep. Blaine, in return, pressed Kurt up against the squeeze chute wall and kissed him back, his body pressed full length against Kurts. At that moment, Kurt realized that Blaine was as aroused as he was.
"Touch me," Kurt commanded, and Blaines hands instantly went to Kurts belt, pulling it in then open with a smooth motion. Blaine expertly thumbed open the button on Kurts pants, and then Kurt both heard and felt the zipper lower. Blaine pulled Kurts hard cock free from his underwear while he sunk down until he was squatting over his heels, mouth at cock level. With a single motion, Blaine swallowed Kurt--all of him, all at once--and Kurt thought Blaine would choke, but he swallowed and kept swallowing as Kurt hit the back of his throat.
Kurt wrapped one hand in Blaines hair knocking off his hat, which lay forgotten on the ground. He tipped his head back and moaned, "Blaine." Blaine sucked and bobbed like a starving man, and Kurt was brought to the precipice so quickly he had to fight to not come. He didnt want it to end too quickly; it felt so good. Unfortunately, his body had other plans, and as one of Blaines hands came up to fondle his testicles, Kurt went right over the edge, shouting and shaking as Blaines sweet mouth stroked him through it.
Blaine pulled off slowly, using his lips to wipe Kurt clean. He tucked Kurt back in and rearranged his clothes so that Kurt was dressed again. That was new for Kurt. On the rare occassion that another man went down on him, Kurt had always been left to fend for himself aftward. Kurt couldnt resist reaching down and hauling Blaine back up for another kiss, reveling in the taste of his own come in Blaines mouth.
They kissed for a long time, and then Kurt whispered against Blaines lips, "Let me take care of you now, my darling."
Blaine tilted his head back and searched Kurts face, "Why do you call me that?"
Kurt brought a hand up and stroked the other mans face with the back of his fingers. "Im not sure. Ive never called anyone that before, but you seem so...I dont know...so beautiful. So strong. So perfect. The way you touch me...like you want me as much as I want you, like what we have is more than sex. God..." Kurt banged the back of his head against the corral wall a few times, "Im not making any sense. Im sorry. Is it weird? Do you want me to stop?"
Blaine shook his head and looked into Kurts eyes. He didnt say anything for a moment, but when he finally spoke, he said, "When I was younger I used to dream that Id end up with a guy like you. Beautiful, talented, urbane. Someone who would make me feel...cherished, like you do when you say that." His words felt forced, as if it was physically difficult for him to admit so much. "You scare me, Kurt. I cant stop thinking about you. I cant stay away. Maybe I should just take off for a while until you leave."
Kurt put both hands on the side of Blaines head as if to hold him there. Now it was his time to shake his head, "Maybe you should stay."