The Incident At Raspberry Ranch Part 1 lsquo The Meeti
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The Incident At Raspberry Ranch
The details of this event took place over 10 years ago and was told to me by a man who requested to go nameless, so for the purposes of retelling it in his words, but to also respect his request, his name and the names of the others involved and location have been altered.
(May 12, 2004)
Raspberry Ranch was my respite from all the fodder that life wastes my time with. I never considered the Ranch to be a waste of my time. To this day, as I recount this experience to you, I still don't, a fact you might question after sitting through this.
But sometimes I needed to forget that, at 21 years of age, I was constantly called upon to care for my younger brother while my mom (a divorcee) went out to find husband #4; that my last step-dad was almost my age, surpassing me by only 3 years; that my real dad left this Earth far too soon and had he still been around, mom might still be mom and I might not be the one who is now morphing into my k** brother's father figure. Those last 5 words are weird to read as my words, but now that they are committed to this file, there they will remain. I needed, for a lack of a better word, release. The Ranch gave me that release.
So on a cool, breezy, Spring evening, as my watch indicated the midnight hour, I jumped up from my laying position, opened my closet, and started contemplating what I should wear to gain as much attention as possible. Why should I desire attention at a Ranch? It's because this ranch was not your orthodox cattle rustling locale or a sprawling mansion that I'd visit to just be alone with my thoughts. This ranch is filled with men who love to fuck. Raspberry Ranch is a men's bathhouse. Once there, the options are simple.
A. Pay $2 to enter a large room called "The Pen". The word pen here is being used in the same context one would talk about the living quarters of a pig. This option does not have a timer. If you pay $2 and remain in this room for the next 7 months, the owner may actually come in and thank you for drumming up business, but you will never be kicked out, and boy did I drum up business. In this room, the lights are not the usual incandescent lights, but rather, black lights. The room is unforgivingly dark, to the point that there have been incidences before this one where someone came up behind me and fucked me, but with his face not a foot and a half away from my view, I couldn't clearly make out things like hair and eye color, whether the hair on his head was thinning or not, or even if he was looking at my face or his cock burying itself into my tight pucker. Other senses picked up descriptors where my sight failed; the smell of alcohol on the breathe, the feel of rising intensity as fingers circled around, and ever closer to, my rectum, words exchanged, insults hurled at me. Sight didn’t play as much of a part in this area.
B. Pay $2 per hour for a booth. The booths were small, no more than 9'x7'. Inside each one was a chair like one that could be found in a backyard, white pvc-like material, pliable. But the color of this chair masked a film of residue that was too obvious to ignore and judging by the odd serpentining shapes along all four black walls, the film was quite thick, and had been ignored for quite some time. So for this option, I always brought a towel or two to d**** over the chair before doing whatever it was I planned to do? The only other item in this space was a well shielded monitor. This room requires one to first shop the porn section for a movie appropriate to one's desires and give your selection to the seemingly and consistently bored clerk whose look is always the same, but is difficult to translate. He could be sending a message of jealousy because the action is on the other side of his counter, or exhaustion because he just began his shift and came off a 12 hour fuckfest of his own. Regardless, after you pay and hand the selected DVD cover to the clerk, you go to the room and execute your plan.
After that choice, you are presented with a whole other set of option which are far more complex, but this set requires one to decide how their night will proceed, then initiate the plan to make 'it' happen.
It is important to note that while there is somewhat loud techno music playing in the shopping area where the clerk is located, there is none in either the booths or in The Pen. Hence, you can vaguely hear the music from inside The Pen, but those out in the shopping area cannot hear the goings on inside The Pen as the music drowns out what little noise escapes that room.
On this day, though my tastes see me at both option A and B about 50/50, I decided to head into The Pen. In that environment, with the lighting being 3 strips of black lights along the ceiling, white was the attention getter. Everyone who walks into this room tends to wear darker colors so they don't stand out, but I would put on a simple white t-shirt and white boxer briefs. The briefs were a size too small for me, but to make my ass the conversation piece, a tight fit was always better. Over that, I wore elastic waistband shorts in a dark grey, a light green t-shirt, but this one was a bit larger and had a pocket on the right breast, and very old sneakers, because while most everything I am wearing eventually comes off, the footwear stays in tact. I'm not touching that floor with my feet. One last thing that goes with me every visit is a back pack. Inside this bag is what I do to myself if going out for some cock is out of the question. 3 dildos; a ribbed plug, nothing out of the ordinary, a dildo measuring 12x4 which I use very carefully on myself once or twice weekly, and finally, an unrelentingly meaty and truculently cruel 14x6 that I have attempted to use on myself but have yet pass half of the length of the head. In a word, it hurts. Even applying a numbing agent, a lot of numbing agent, it isn't enough to mitigate the sharp pain my hole endures. But hope springs eternal, so it still comes with me in its silky red cloth bag.
At a very healthy and in shape 21 years young, once I walked in to this place, not only was I the youngest in the building, but the most desired. So when I went to the counter and paid what I paid, needless to say, several other denizens who were already there quickly dropped their prior activities and reached into their pockets to fumble out $2 as payment to enter the same room I was heading into.
Upon casing the room, one of these men, a rather tall man with a not fat but heavyset type build who seemed less intrigued by me and more interested in being wherever the largest crowd was gathered, also freed up his hands, grabbed at his jacket pocket for a few bucks, and after paying, entered The Pen. I can clearly recall what it was about him that made me leery about his presence in the same dark room as me. It was his walk. It was as if his right shoulder had some sort of invisible weight on it, causing him to lurch to one side and practically shuffle as he stepped with his right foot. It didn't take long to understand that the walk, his behavior, and his disability were all innate. He was born mildly mentally handicapped, intelligent enough to function for tasks such as food shopping and counting to $2, apparently, but socially lacking so as to be unable to hold a normal conversation about something like politics or human interest stories. To coin a phrase, he was simple. Functional, yet simple.
I wasn't sure about him. Not that I have any qualms with a person who has some stand out qualities, but I do have qualms about just fucking a guy who has mental issues that I do not yet understand. Would it damage his perception, or initiate a seizure, or any myriad of possible outcomes? So that I would not have to find out, I stayed on alert, he was in the room, but that didn't give him access to my ass.
After about 15 minutes of getting used to the dark, silhouettes began to take shape and I saw that I was sharing the room with somewhere in the area of a dozen other men. Some were on their knees others were alone and waiting for an opportunity, so I decided to provide one by removing the shorts and t- shirt that covered my white undergarments and as expected, the room went from all silhouettes, to all silhouettes and me. The black lights did their job and I glowed like a human lightning bug. I placed my clothes in my bag, removed my plug, and knelt on the couch provided by the The Ranch with my forearms resting on the back so I could kneel down with my ass further in the air, which was currently in the air raising higher and higher and pointing right at the room occupants. Placing my face near but not on the couch, I took one hand and reached far back between my legs, grasping my briefs from the waistband at the very top of my crack and pulled down, and with the other hand, I took the plug, while dry, the way I liked to be penetrated initially, and began working it slowly in and out. The plug was ribbed in three spots and they were elaborate and distinguishing, so that I could feel with a marked sensation when a rib had either entered me or exited. Men watched as I finally was able to bury the third and thickest rib into my ass. Several jerked off, a few looked like they were half walking toward me, then half stopping themselves, which I liked because those were the ones who respected limitations. And though I have few, I knew that those hesitant to move forward were the ones who I would probably enjoy most.
But to move things along and raise everyone's level of comfort in approaching me, I looked around and found one guy who was jerking off. I couldn't see his cock, but I could see his arm movement. It indicated to me a very long stroke, so I took a chance and waved him over while I continued to toy my asshole at a furious pace. As he came closer, continuing with his hand, the darkness cleared and the head of his cock was suddenly close enough to reveal a damp odor that was unmistakably my close encounter with his crotch, possibly after a long work day on his feet, sweat coating his inner thighs, leaving a very dank swampy scent, thick and unctuous, yet oddly appealing. I wanted him to fuck me hard.
I was hoping he had a bad day at work, that his boss emasculated him in front of a crowd of coworkers and that he was angry to the point that his plan would be to find someone like me so he could avenge his honor, maybe save a shred of face, somehow, by just burying himself furiously in another guy's sweet asshole, hatefucking his brains out while yelling about how much of a filthy cock slut he is, and finally yank himself dripping from ass juice out of the pig bottom's ass and making him clean the mess he made. I wanted everyone to be watching me as soon as the crown of his cockhead popped past my o-ring. I wanted him to hook his arm around the front of my neck as he hatefucked me from behind so he could yank my body back so I would arch more and so he could choke me a little to show his dominance and control over me. To be sure all eyes turned to witness this pervert's smelly and long stroking cock stab into my ass, I put the plug down and revealed the 12x4. Since I was so excited and my ass was so eager, almost the whole 12 inches disappeared within a minute of my hand gripping it and removing it from the bag. Suddenly, silhouettes began to form from beyond the darkness. Breathing could be heard, becoming more and more audible as the silhouettes became more defined until I was surrounded by 4 other guys besides the guy attached to the musty smelling cock that was now in my mouth. With the 5 guys now close enough to clearly witness everything, I began pounding my asshole mercilessly with the girthy jelly cock to show them my boundaries, stopping just short of the very bottom where the shaft melded with the balls, then I let go of it while still throating my odoriferous stranger. Reading my intent, one of the other men reached behind me and began to take up where I left off. Slow at first, then deeper, faster, deeper, faster, deeper until he, too, was long stroking the dildo from head to near balls at a pace that burned the rim of my hole, but felt good to be getting a dildo, but not having to push. The guys took turns with this activity while I continued to slobber all over the cock which was now fully erect and felt like a steel coffee cup because of how much blood was pumped into it from the excitement of the scene.
But suddenly, a switch took place behind me. The dildo stopped pulsing in and out and slowly began falling out of my ass. I didn't want it out so I started to reach back, but felt another hand take over before it completely exited, so without a glance backward, I contently kept my focus on the huge cock in front of me.
Several seconds passed and the dildo was still in me, but wasn't making any inward or outward movement. The man with his hand firmly in control of the dildo inside me reached forward and placed another firm grip on my right shoulder with his right hand. This was for leverage........
As if my head were an ultra powerful jelly magnet, the dildo instantly shot back up my ass hard, but this time, the balls smacked forcefully enough to hear a slap against my soft ass flesh. All I could do was scream. I tried to turn to see who it was but the stranger's grasp on my shoulder was preventing me from turning. He was extraordinarily powerful. He pulled the dildo out of my ass completely, then just very quickly inserted the head, and began repeatedly entering and exiting just the fat head of the dildo as I still was attempting to see who broke my boundaries. After about 20-30 pumps of the enormous mushroomed dildo head, the unknown violator once again crammed the dildo back in to the balls so hard, the force pushed my naked body forward onto the filthy, semen covered floor. Before he could get his hand back on the toy or on me, for that matter, I pushed out the dildo, which fell to the floor and bounced around leaving a snail trail behind it as it crawled to a stop. When I turned, there was the man I was leery about with the odd, lurching walk.
"You on coagain!!!" he demanded. "Why you leave couch cause I'm not done?!! I show you where my penis like to go next and then you get to see the Rise Skellamins." This was a reference I hadn't ever heard till now. Rise Skellamins? Well since his evening was about to abruptly end, I don't think it mattered.
He went for the dildo, and as he did, I went for the door, opened it, ran out naked, and jumped over the counter to discuss the series of events starting with the dildo smacking into me the first time with the clerk.
Clerks at The Ranch have always been real super nice to me. I can only imagine why. This one was no different, and within 3 minutes, the assailant was gone. I went to the bathroom with my things, determined to continue. I always pack toy cleaner so I performed a once over on my ribbed and 12x4 dildos and slowly reentered The Pen. It was a rare time when all the guys kinda stopped to make sure I was alright, but I walked in confidently, even more so than some of the guys uns**thed by the incident, and indicated enthusiastically, that I was just fine. 100% prepared to be the airtight gangslut that the room needed to drain their loaded fucksticks. So, we started over, relieved that the elephant in the room was able to fit out the front door, and at least for tonight, not return.
The Incident At Raspberry Ranch, Part II: Return of the Rise Skellamins
The night progressed as it should have before the "thrust heard round the bathhouse". Guys came and went, came and went as I enjoyed being the center of attention, or better yet, as I enjoyed my hands, mouth, and especially my hungry asshole being the center of attention.
I had no concept of time, but about 3 guys fucked me. The fourth was about to enter and several others stood ready to replace number 4 when outside the door of the dimly lit room, we heard the music cease immediately. All within could distinctly hear one person yelling orders and at one point, what I thought to be the voice of the man that violated me not long ago. The whole room looked in my direction and slowly began backing away from me, and even number 4, though his cock was close enough to my gaping maw to feel the warm heat rising from it from being worked over, eased back and into the blackness.
"In there!!" Said the familiar voice. At first, the only footsteps heard were two sets; the one from earlier, whose feet moved to a rhythm unlike any other, and the person yelling the orders, I assumed. Their feet stopped just short of the door. Then, more footsteps. This time, though, of an innumerable count.
The door opened and in sauntered a diverse array of male flesh, and what I would normally consider a welcome sight, this evening, with my assailant acting as their escort, I now reconsidered the "welcome" in my stare. I knew immediately why they were here. The story they received could only have been a fabrication to get the whole crowd to jump up and race back to the Ranch to exact justice for their young and simple friend. I felt compelled to speak even before their leader, a quite towering individual wearing faded blue jeans, a sleeveless leather jacket, and a scowl that I would soon find out was his personal signature setting the tone one for what was to come.
Not realizing I was still in my birthday suit, I pounced, "Hi! You boys are here because of the incident that occurred here between myself and your friend. Right?" Nice long sentence. It's what I had planned to say, but never got past the word "here" before the gargantuan right arm of the leader rose quickly and firmly grasped my neck.
Pulling me within millimeters of his mouth, he growled, "Do I look like I need you telling me why I'm here?" He turned and pointed to the simpleton. "See him? That's my brother. He was removed from this fine, upstanding establishment because a pig boy couldn't take a little pain. Pathetic. Unacceptable."
Another in their crew walked to my assailant after being summoned there by the leader. He asked a simply worded question, "Who?!!!" After the odd character pointed me out, the room was cleared and everyone sent home under pain of severe consequences if any didn't listen. The entire store was emptied, all except me, the clerk who was tied up in a back room, and after I was able to drink in the entire group in with one eyeful of a glance, 14 members of a group I was about to be formally introduced to.
The leader finally spoke directly to me as I stood naked, his voice surprisingly calm, my hard-on still fully formed, oddly enough. Several members of the group stared at it. If their eyes shot laser lights, my crotch would have looked like a constellation. "Before, we address the situation you entered with my bro, Leonard, do you know who we are? Leonard said he mentioned our tag."
I nodded slowly, vaguely recalling something about Raise or Rinse but not able to make sense of the simpleton's mid-dildo **** ramblings..... "We are representatives of an interstate motorcycle gang called the Rose Skulls." I immediately recalled 'Rise Skellamins', the ill reported title that Leonard explained I was going to see right after he thrust my toy in me the first time.
He went on, "This is Leonard. You are aware, now, that he is my brother by blood.....," the leader began to discreetly seethe as he talked, as if he only wanted me to see his apparent rage building inside him as he spoke, still, as calm as one in his lifestyle can be expected to speak, but there was a definite bomb about to go off inside as he started to move in closer to me and continued with, "......but more importantly, and the paramount reason for what you are about to endure, he is a member of our Crimson Pride Rose Skulls. We run guns, we deliver things not normally seen in an average 18-wheeler. But today, we put those things to the side. He whispered to me, "Ya see, I think you saw that Leonard is not exactly packing all the batteries his head was born with. He's a fuckin' retard." His voice began to raise as if he were a pastor on Sunday delivering his sermon. "But I love him anyway. So when he came home to tell me the Ranch kicked out my brother and compatriot because some twink who posed as the Pen's fuckpig, I made some calls." At this point, I was shaking, ironically, not because I was scared, because I wasn't due to the non threatening tone the leader emoted. I shook because when you are naked at the Ranch, you are fucking. I wasn't. So the cold got to me, which didn't calm my cock's energy level, nor did it fail to arouse my nipples, which were now hard as rocks, with little tiny bumps jettisoning out from the area immediately surrounding the center of each brownish-red areola. Men who were staring increased, and now, several had begun slipping hands down their pants.
"A few things will happen now that I have cleared up the reason for our intrusion," the hulking leader continued. "First, you will kindly apologize to my brother, undeserving of his recent treatment, for ignorance may be no excuse, but mental retardation is certainly a factor that could make an act of v******e forgivable.... We're all waiting, sweet lips!!!! NOW!!"
Upon hearing the urgency in his one-word command, I immediately turned to Leonard and said, "Leonard, I'm so sorry," my voice barely audible. With a backdrop of leather-clad, road weary, trouble-seeking bikers, my simple sentence sounded almost innocent when delivered by a shivering, scared, oddly curious tone.
"It's K. Karma is bitchin'." Snickers from the small crowd behind Leonard and his brother could be made out, but more so than that was what I could see. The calls the leader made were to these men laughing at Leonard's foreshadowing statement, and all were now accounted for, pants at ankles, stroking their cocks. Some were already hard, others on their way to arousal. The singular, pungent scent now completely overtaking the room was a cocktail of sorts; that unmistakable aroma of musty crotch odor, underarm sweat, and gasoline (possibly a smell picked up from long miles spent riding out in the open air. I've done my share of challenging sexual acts, but this was different. These men had no allusions about my body and what my limits actually were, and if the action performed on me by Leonard earlier was any indication of what was to come, knowing there was no way out, I had to dig down and find a way to ease back the onslaught. Mitigation was key to survive this and freaking out and crying or screaming for help would end in certain death. So time to improvise or, once finished, these men would see no reason to chance keeping me alive.
With the snickering lowered and only a few moans heard from time to time, I knew that to weasel my way out of this predicament with my soul and body still intertwined, I had to make myself indispensable to the group. The gang. THAT WAS IT!!! It no sooner entered my head than I uttered the plan to the aroused horde of leather jacket clad motor heads.
"I fear the worst..."
The leader interrupted calmly, "You have no idea how much you should be afraid right now."
"Well...," I continued, body still bare and glistening a little from beads of sweat, the result of a feeling of longing I was having, almost wanting the massive crowd to overtake me, "....the Rose Skulls seem to be at a loss. You are a bunch of gay guys...."
Interrupted again, "Oh, we're not gay. No no no. Gay would be way too easy. We are just loyal to our brothers and vengeful when one of them is brought to shame. But we are also violent. We see no difference between you or some bitch. Splitting you in two with our cocks, fists, and whatever else we can find in this well equipped shop will bring us no pleasure....." and that was my queue.
I interrupted, brashly, "But what if you and all your men actually enjoyed spilling your cum onto my ass, breeding me and watching it all ooze out of me, pushing your seeds further and deeper into me with each eager thrust from the line of cocks you've assembled. Would you want to end my life, or pass me around every day, whenever you snap your fingers? To have a slave to do with whatever sexual act you please, regardless of the depths of depravity to which you stoop. If this was fun, and if you got pleasure from it, allowing me in to the brotherhood, just as a offering of membership privileges?" My question hung there, the walls of the room catching their resonance and bouncing the thought between each man before me.
The moans and mumbles stopped and the offer I had made seemed to stupefy the audience of bikers. There was silence, then Leonard spoke up, "Oh yes, him to come home and the things we can do..." I knew, if anyone would respond positively to the offer, it would be him. What was really catching my eye, though, was not Leonard's lips as the words left his mouth. My eyes caught the fact that he, too, was stroking something below and so my eyes wandered down. But before I could witness what I would soon find out was most unusually shaped cock I will have ever had penetrate me, two men, whom I did not see crept behind me, grabbed my arms.
“Ok, boys! Splay him out!! On his stomach, to start,” he spoke to his minions with a hidden excitement; like he wanted to convey to his men how to handle me without me knowing his thoughts. Well, if his intent was to keep me guessing, this was a good way to start. I had no clue that my first act as this gang of miscreants’ sex slave would be played out on my stomach.
The details of this event took place over 10 years ago and was told to me by a man who requested to go nameless, so for the purposes of retelling it in his words, but to also respect his request, his name and the names of the others involved and location have been altered.
(May 12, 2004)
Raspberry Ranch was my respite from all the fodder that life wastes my time with. I never considered the Ranch to be a waste of my time. To this day, as I recount this experience to you, I still don't, a fact you might question after sitting through this.
But sometimes I needed to forget that, at 21 years of age, I was constantly called upon to care for my younger brother while my mom (a divorcee) went out to find husband #4; that my last step-dad was almost my age, surpassing me by only 3 years; that my real dad left this Earth far too soon and had he still been around, mom might still be mom and I might not be the one who is now morphing into my k** brother's father figure. Those last 5 words are weird to read as my words, but now that they are committed to this file, there they will remain. I needed, for a lack of a better word, release. The Ranch gave me that release.
So on a cool, breezy, Spring evening, as my watch indicated the midnight hour, I jumped up from my laying position, opened my closet, and started contemplating what I should wear to gain as much attention as possible. Why should I desire attention at a Ranch? It's because this ranch was not your orthodox cattle rustling locale or a sprawling mansion that I'd visit to just be alone with my thoughts. This ranch is filled with men who love to fuck. Raspberry Ranch is a men's bathhouse. Once there, the options are simple.
A. Pay $2 to enter a large room called "The Pen". The word pen here is being used in the same context one would talk about the living quarters of a pig. This option does not have a timer. If you pay $2 and remain in this room for the next 7 months, the owner may actually come in and thank you for drumming up business, but you will never be kicked out, and boy did I drum up business. In this room, the lights are not the usual incandescent lights, but rather, black lights. The room is unforgivingly dark, to the point that there have been incidences before this one where someone came up behind me and fucked me, but with his face not a foot and a half away from my view, I couldn't clearly make out things like hair and eye color, whether the hair on his head was thinning or not, or even if he was looking at my face or his cock burying itself into my tight pucker. Other senses picked up descriptors where my sight failed; the smell of alcohol on the breathe, the feel of rising intensity as fingers circled around, and ever closer to, my rectum, words exchanged, insults hurled at me. Sight didn’t play as much of a part in this area.
B. Pay $2 per hour for a booth. The booths were small, no more than 9'x7'. Inside each one was a chair like one that could be found in a backyard, white pvc-like material, pliable. But the color of this chair masked a film of residue that was too obvious to ignore and judging by the odd serpentining shapes along all four black walls, the film was quite thick, and had been ignored for quite some time. So for this option, I always brought a towel or two to d**** over the chair before doing whatever it was I planned to do? The only other item in this space was a well shielded monitor. This room requires one to first shop the porn section for a movie appropriate to one's desires and give your selection to the seemingly and consistently bored clerk whose look is always the same, but is difficult to translate. He could be sending a message of jealousy because the action is on the other side of his counter, or exhaustion because he just began his shift and came off a 12 hour fuckfest of his own. Regardless, after you pay and hand the selected DVD cover to the clerk, you go to the room and execute your plan.
After that choice, you are presented with a whole other set of option which are far more complex, but this set requires one to decide how their night will proceed, then initiate the plan to make 'it' happen.
It is important to note that while there is somewhat loud techno music playing in the shopping area where the clerk is located, there is none in either the booths or in The Pen. Hence, you can vaguely hear the music from inside The Pen, but those out in the shopping area cannot hear the goings on inside The Pen as the music drowns out what little noise escapes that room.
On this day, though my tastes see me at both option A and B about 50/50, I decided to head into The Pen. In that environment, with the lighting being 3 strips of black lights along the ceiling, white was the attention getter. Everyone who walks into this room tends to wear darker colors so they don't stand out, but I would put on a simple white t-shirt and white boxer briefs. The briefs were a size too small for me, but to make my ass the conversation piece, a tight fit was always better. Over that, I wore elastic waistband shorts in a dark grey, a light green t-shirt, but this one was a bit larger and had a pocket on the right breast, and very old sneakers, because while most everything I am wearing eventually comes off, the footwear stays in tact. I'm not touching that floor with my feet. One last thing that goes with me every visit is a back pack. Inside this bag is what I do to myself if going out for some cock is out of the question. 3 dildos; a ribbed plug, nothing out of the ordinary, a dildo measuring 12x4 which I use very carefully on myself once or twice weekly, and finally, an unrelentingly meaty and truculently cruel 14x6 that I have attempted to use on myself but have yet pass half of the length of the head. In a word, it hurts. Even applying a numbing agent, a lot of numbing agent, it isn't enough to mitigate the sharp pain my hole endures. But hope springs eternal, so it still comes with me in its silky red cloth bag.
At a very healthy and in shape 21 years young, once I walked in to this place, not only was I the youngest in the building, but the most desired. So when I went to the counter and paid what I paid, needless to say, several other denizens who were already there quickly dropped their prior activities and reached into their pockets to fumble out $2 as payment to enter the same room I was heading into.
Upon casing the room, one of these men, a rather tall man with a not fat but heavyset type build who seemed less intrigued by me and more interested in being wherever the largest crowd was gathered, also freed up his hands, grabbed at his jacket pocket for a few bucks, and after paying, entered The Pen. I can clearly recall what it was about him that made me leery about his presence in the same dark room as me. It was his walk. It was as if his right shoulder had some sort of invisible weight on it, causing him to lurch to one side and practically shuffle as he stepped with his right foot. It didn't take long to understand that the walk, his behavior, and his disability were all innate. He was born mildly mentally handicapped, intelligent enough to function for tasks such as food shopping and counting to $2, apparently, but socially lacking so as to be unable to hold a normal conversation about something like politics or human interest stories. To coin a phrase, he was simple. Functional, yet simple.
I wasn't sure about him. Not that I have any qualms with a person who has some stand out qualities, but I do have qualms about just fucking a guy who has mental issues that I do not yet understand. Would it damage his perception, or initiate a seizure, or any myriad of possible outcomes? So that I would not have to find out, I stayed on alert, he was in the room, but that didn't give him access to my ass.
After about 15 minutes of getting used to the dark, silhouettes began to take shape and I saw that I was sharing the room with somewhere in the area of a dozen other men. Some were on their knees others were alone and waiting for an opportunity, so I decided to provide one by removing the shorts and t- shirt that covered my white undergarments and as expected, the room went from all silhouettes, to all silhouettes and me. The black lights did their job and I glowed like a human lightning bug. I placed my clothes in my bag, removed my plug, and knelt on the couch provided by the The Ranch with my forearms resting on the back so I could kneel down with my ass further in the air, which was currently in the air raising higher and higher and pointing right at the room occupants. Placing my face near but not on the couch, I took one hand and reached far back between my legs, grasping my briefs from the waistband at the very top of my crack and pulled down, and with the other hand, I took the plug, while dry, the way I liked to be penetrated initially, and began working it slowly in and out. The plug was ribbed in three spots and they were elaborate and distinguishing, so that I could feel with a marked sensation when a rib had either entered me or exited. Men watched as I finally was able to bury the third and thickest rib into my ass. Several jerked off, a few looked like they were half walking toward me, then half stopping themselves, which I liked because those were the ones who respected limitations. And though I have few, I knew that those hesitant to move forward were the ones who I would probably enjoy most.
But to move things along and raise everyone's level of comfort in approaching me, I looked around and found one guy who was jerking off. I couldn't see his cock, but I could see his arm movement. It indicated to me a very long stroke, so I took a chance and waved him over while I continued to toy my asshole at a furious pace. As he came closer, continuing with his hand, the darkness cleared and the head of his cock was suddenly close enough to reveal a damp odor that was unmistakably my close encounter with his crotch, possibly after a long work day on his feet, sweat coating his inner thighs, leaving a very dank swampy scent, thick and unctuous, yet oddly appealing. I wanted him to fuck me hard.
I was hoping he had a bad day at work, that his boss emasculated him in front of a crowd of coworkers and that he was angry to the point that his plan would be to find someone like me so he could avenge his honor, maybe save a shred of face, somehow, by just burying himself furiously in another guy's sweet asshole, hatefucking his brains out while yelling about how much of a filthy cock slut he is, and finally yank himself dripping from ass juice out of the pig bottom's ass and making him clean the mess he made. I wanted everyone to be watching me as soon as the crown of his cockhead popped past my o-ring. I wanted him to hook his arm around the front of my neck as he hatefucked me from behind so he could yank my body back so I would arch more and so he could choke me a little to show his dominance and control over me. To be sure all eyes turned to witness this pervert's smelly and long stroking cock stab into my ass, I put the plug down and revealed the 12x4. Since I was so excited and my ass was so eager, almost the whole 12 inches disappeared within a minute of my hand gripping it and removing it from the bag. Suddenly, silhouettes began to form from beyond the darkness. Breathing could be heard, becoming more and more audible as the silhouettes became more defined until I was surrounded by 4 other guys besides the guy attached to the musty smelling cock that was now in my mouth. With the 5 guys now close enough to clearly witness everything, I began pounding my asshole mercilessly with the girthy jelly cock to show them my boundaries, stopping just short of the very bottom where the shaft melded with the balls, then I let go of it while still throating my odoriferous stranger. Reading my intent, one of the other men reached behind me and began to take up where I left off. Slow at first, then deeper, faster, deeper, faster, deeper until he, too, was long stroking the dildo from head to near balls at a pace that burned the rim of my hole, but felt good to be getting a dildo, but not having to push. The guys took turns with this activity while I continued to slobber all over the cock which was now fully erect and felt like a steel coffee cup because of how much blood was pumped into it from the excitement of the scene.
But suddenly, a switch took place behind me. The dildo stopped pulsing in and out and slowly began falling out of my ass. I didn't want it out so I started to reach back, but felt another hand take over before it completely exited, so without a glance backward, I contently kept my focus on the huge cock in front of me.
Several seconds passed and the dildo was still in me, but wasn't making any inward or outward movement. The man with his hand firmly in control of the dildo inside me reached forward and placed another firm grip on my right shoulder with his right hand. This was for leverage........
As if my head were an ultra powerful jelly magnet, the dildo instantly shot back up my ass hard, but this time, the balls smacked forcefully enough to hear a slap against my soft ass flesh. All I could do was scream. I tried to turn to see who it was but the stranger's grasp on my shoulder was preventing me from turning. He was extraordinarily powerful. He pulled the dildo out of my ass completely, then just very quickly inserted the head, and began repeatedly entering and exiting just the fat head of the dildo as I still was attempting to see who broke my boundaries. After about 20-30 pumps of the enormous mushroomed dildo head, the unknown violator once again crammed the dildo back in to the balls so hard, the force pushed my naked body forward onto the filthy, semen covered floor. Before he could get his hand back on the toy or on me, for that matter, I pushed out the dildo, which fell to the floor and bounced around leaving a snail trail behind it as it crawled to a stop. When I turned, there was the man I was leery about with the odd, lurching walk.
"You on coagain!!!" he demanded. "Why you leave couch cause I'm not done?!! I show you where my penis like to go next and then you get to see the Rise Skellamins." This was a reference I hadn't ever heard till now. Rise Skellamins? Well since his evening was about to abruptly end, I don't think it mattered.
He went for the dildo, and as he did, I went for the door, opened it, ran out naked, and jumped over the counter to discuss the series of events starting with the dildo smacking into me the first time with the clerk.
Clerks at The Ranch have always been real super nice to me. I can only imagine why. This one was no different, and within 3 minutes, the assailant was gone. I went to the bathroom with my things, determined to continue. I always pack toy cleaner so I performed a once over on my ribbed and 12x4 dildos and slowly reentered The Pen. It was a rare time when all the guys kinda stopped to make sure I was alright, but I walked in confidently, even more so than some of the guys uns**thed by the incident, and indicated enthusiastically, that I was just fine. 100% prepared to be the airtight gangslut that the room needed to drain their loaded fucksticks. So, we started over, relieved that the elephant in the room was able to fit out the front door, and at least for tonight, not return.
The Incident At Raspberry Ranch, Part II: Return of the Rise Skellamins
The night progressed as it should have before the "thrust heard round the bathhouse". Guys came and went, came and went as I enjoyed being the center of attention, or better yet, as I enjoyed my hands, mouth, and especially my hungry asshole being the center of attention.
I had no concept of time, but about 3 guys fucked me. The fourth was about to enter and several others stood ready to replace number 4 when outside the door of the dimly lit room, we heard the music cease immediately. All within could distinctly hear one person yelling orders and at one point, what I thought to be the voice of the man that violated me not long ago. The whole room looked in my direction and slowly began backing away from me, and even number 4, though his cock was close enough to my gaping maw to feel the warm heat rising from it from being worked over, eased back and into the blackness.
"In there!!" Said the familiar voice. At first, the only footsteps heard were two sets; the one from earlier, whose feet moved to a rhythm unlike any other, and the person yelling the orders, I assumed. Their feet stopped just short of the door. Then, more footsteps. This time, though, of an innumerable count.
The door opened and in sauntered a diverse array of male flesh, and what I would normally consider a welcome sight, this evening, with my assailant acting as their escort, I now reconsidered the "welcome" in my stare. I knew immediately why they were here. The story they received could only have been a fabrication to get the whole crowd to jump up and race back to the Ranch to exact justice for their young and simple friend. I felt compelled to speak even before their leader, a quite towering individual wearing faded blue jeans, a sleeveless leather jacket, and a scowl that I would soon find out was his personal signature setting the tone one for what was to come.
Not realizing I was still in my birthday suit, I pounced, "Hi! You boys are here because of the incident that occurred here between myself and your friend. Right?" Nice long sentence. It's what I had planned to say, but never got past the word "here" before the gargantuan right arm of the leader rose quickly and firmly grasped my neck.
Pulling me within millimeters of his mouth, he growled, "Do I look like I need you telling me why I'm here?" He turned and pointed to the simpleton. "See him? That's my brother. He was removed from this fine, upstanding establishment because a pig boy couldn't take a little pain. Pathetic. Unacceptable."
Another in their crew walked to my assailant after being summoned there by the leader. He asked a simply worded question, "Who?!!!" After the odd character pointed me out, the room was cleared and everyone sent home under pain of severe consequences if any didn't listen. The entire store was emptied, all except me, the clerk who was tied up in a back room, and after I was able to drink in the entire group in with one eyeful of a glance, 14 members of a group I was about to be formally introduced to.
The leader finally spoke directly to me as I stood naked, his voice surprisingly calm, my hard-on still fully formed, oddly enough. Several members of the group stared at it. If their eyes shot laser lights, my crotch would have looked like a constellation. "Before, we address the situation you entered with my bro, Leonard, do you know who we are? Leonard said he mentioned our tag."
I nodded slowly, vaguely recalling something about Raise or Rinse but not able to make sense of the simpleton's mid-dildo **** ramblings..... "We are representatives of an interstate motorcycle gang called the Rose Skulls." I immediately recalled 'Rise Skellamins', the ill reported title that Leonard explained I was going to see right after he thrust my toy in me the first time.
He went on, "This is Leonard. You are aware, now, that he is my brother by blood.....," the leader began to discreetly seethe as he talked, as if he only wanted me to see his apparent rage building inside him as he spoke, still, as calm as one in his lifestyle can be expected to speak, but there was a definite bomb about to go off inside as he started to move in closer to me and continued with, "......but more importantly, and the paramount reason for what you are about to endure, he is a member of our Crimson Pride Rose Skulls. We run guns, we deliver things not normally seen in an average 18-wheeler. But today, we put those things to the side. He whispered to me, "Ya see, I think you saw that Leonard is not exactly packing all the batteries his head was born with. He's a fuckin' retard." His voice began to raise as if he were a pastor on Sunday delivering his sermon. "But I love him anyway. So when he came home to tell me the Ranch kicked out my brother and compatriot because some twink who posed as the Pen's fuckpig, I made some calls." At this point, I was shaking, ironically, not because I was scared, because I wasn't due to the non threatening tone the leader emoted. I shook because when you are naked at the Ranch, you are fucking. I wasn't. So the cold got to me, which didn't calm my cock's energy level, nor did it fail to arouse my nipples, which were now hard as rocks, with little tiny bumps jettisoning out from the area immediately surrounding the center of each brownish-red areola. Men who were staring increased, and now, several had begun slipping hands down their pants.
"A few things will happen now that I have cleared up the reason for our intrusion," the hulking leader continued. "First, you will kindly apologize to my brother, undeserving of his recent treatment, for ignorance may be no excuse, but mental retardation is certainly a factor that could make an act of v******e forgivable.... We're all waiting, sweet lips!!!! NOW!!"
Upon hearing the urgency in his one-word command, I immediately turned to Leonard and said, "Leonard, I'm so sorry," my voice barely audible. With a backdrop of leather-clad, road weary, trouble-seeking bikers, my simple sentence sounded almost innocent when delivered by a shivering, scared, oddly curious tone.
"It's K. Karma is bitchin'." Snickers from the small crowd behind Leonard and his brother could be made out, but more so than that was what I could see. The calls the leader made were to these men laughing at Leonard's foreshadowing statement, and all were now accounted for, pants at ankles, stroking their cocks. Some were already hard, others on their way to arousal. The singular, pungent scent now completely overtaking the room was a cocktail of sorts; that unmistakable aroma of musty crotch odor, underarm sweat, and gasoline (possibly a smell picked up from long miles spent riding out in the open air. I've done my share of challenging sexual acts, but this was different. These men had no allusions about my body and what my limits actually were, and if the action performed on me by Leonard earlier was any indication of what was to come, knowing there was no way out, I had to dig down and find a way to ease back the onslaught. Mitigation was key to survive this and freaking out and crying or screaming for help would end in certain death. So time to improvise or, once finished, these men would see no reason to chance keeping me alive.
With the snickering lowered and only a few moans heard from time to time, I knew that to weasel my way out of this predicament with my soul and body still intertwined, I had to make myself indispensable to the group. The gang. THAT WAS IT!!! It no sooner entered my head than I uttered the plan to the aroused horde of leather jacket clad motor heads.
"I fear the worst..."
The leader interrupted calmly, "You have no idea how much you should be afraid right now."
"Well...," I continued, body still bare and glistening a little from beads of sweat, the result of a feeling of longing I was having, almost wanting the massive crowd to overtake me, "....the Rose Skulls seem to be at a loss. You are a bunch of gay guys...."
Interrupted again, "Oh, we're not gay. No no no. Gay would be way too easy. We are just loyal to our brothers and vengeful when one of them is brought to shame. But we are also violent. We see no difference between you or some bitch. Splitting you in two with our cocks, fists, and whatever else we can find in this well equipped shop will bring us no pleasure....." and that was my queue.
I interrupted, brashly, "But what if you and all your men actually enjoyed spilling your cum onto my ass, breeding me and watching it all ooze out of me, pushing your seeds further and deeper into me with each eager thrust from the line of cocks you've assembled. Would you want to end my life, or pass me around every day, whenever you snap your fingers? To have a slave to do with whatever sexual act you please, regardless of the depths of depravity to which you stoop. If this was fun, and if you got pleasure from it, allowing me in to the brotherhood, just as a offering of membership privileges?" My question hung there, the walls of the room catching their resonance and bouncing the thought between each man before me.
The moans and mumbles stopped and the offer I had made seemed to stupefy the audience of bikers. There was silence, then Leonard spoke up, "Oh yes, him to come home and the things we can do..." I knew, if anyone would respond positively to the offer, it would be him. What was really catching my eye, though, was not Leonard's lips as the words left his mouth. My eyes caught the fact that he, too, was stroking something below and so my eyes wandered down. But before I could witness what I would soon find out was most unusually shaped cock I will have ever had penetrate me, two men, whom I did not see crept behind me, grabbed my arms.
“Ok, boys! Splay him out!! On his stomach, to start,” he spoke to his minions with a hidden excitement; like he wanted to convey to his men how to handle me without me knowing his thoughts. Well, if his intent was to keep me guessing, this was a good way to start. I had no clue that my first act as this gang of miscreants’ sex slave would be played out on my stomach.
Hester
- 30.10.2020
- 45
- 0
