Page 92 - Leather Blues

80 Jack Fritscher

brandin’ iron over and shove it into them wood coals in
the stove.” It wasn’t a question. Chuck followed the order
exactly.
Doc moved quickly in and snapped a mesh capsule
under Arrow’s nose.
Jex-Blake lifted Arrow’s steel-necked balls in his left
hand. “Hung like a horse,” he said. Then, right-handed, he
wrapped a loop of the barbed wire tight around the base of
his balls and cock. “String the fucker up,” he said. “Take up
the slack in that there rope. This here necktie party’s about
to begin.” His skilled fence-rider’s hands took a pliers to the
wire and dug it in deep around the redhaired base of Arrow’s
low-slung dick and balls. Then as skillfully as if he were
wrapping a wood post with barbed wire, Jex-Blake wound
the long, hard flesh of Arrow’s defenseless cock around and
around, from base to engorged tip. The barbs bit around the
big veins and into the soft flesh. Pricklets of blood trickled
down his dick. It ran slowly down the metal neck of Arrow’s
stretched scrotum. It dripped off his balls, reddening the
white pine crate in front of his bound boots.
In continuing, swelling panic, Arrow felt the noose
growing steadily tighter around his throat and neck. Hanged
by the neck until dead. Death by hanging. Feedlot ropes.
His dad knew how to handle outlaws.
Jex-Blake’s face was intent, precise, and hard-bitten.
Denny through his haze saw men taking long strokes on
their meat: some of them cuming at the mutual extremity
of Arrow’s desires and Jex-Blake’s actions. He freed his own
cock and felt it hardening in his hand. Almost instantly,
a man in a piss-soaked jock glided in from the darkness
and knelt at Denny’s crotch. He sucked the cheesy uncut
head into his mouth. To Denny everything felt right. Late
nights in his parents’ house, he had read and dreamed about
extremities. He knew he was witnessing his own personal
baptism into the group’s celebration of the ritual sweat and

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