Lost Count (First & Subsequent Parts)

[Whipped]

One hundred head of Senor Flores' cattle were missing and he needed help in rounding them up. When he heard of this, Texas Cowboy (TC) offered to go and help remove them from the category of missing and George, his ranch foreman, agreed he could take the three days estimated to help locate them. "Leave now, TC," George said and you can be there by suppertime."

So TC rode back to the bunkhouse, collected a few essential items to take with him and departed. A razor for he would most likely shave before he returned, a toothbrush, sunscreen and a pair of Wranglers in case he wanted to go into the nearby village. There was no need for a shirt or jean jacket in the high heat and humidity and no underwear or socks since neither his fellow cowboys nor he wore them. Their Wranglers were their underwear and they wore their boots so tight there was no room for socks anyway.

Anyone who encountered TC would do a double take if they remembered seeing pictures of the late Soviet ballet dancer Rudolf Nureyev. He had the same beautiful facial bone structure, the same high cheekbones, the same flashing eyes (blue in TC's case), the luscious red lips, a mane of golden hair that reached to his deep and highly visible cleavage and a package that was the envy of all young cowboys who saw it.

His muscular 140-pound body was packed into the tightest Wranglers and chaps worn by any cowboy in the Americas. That he did not wear a shirt or jean jacket from at least May through September called attention to his heavily tanned washboard stomach, luxurious muscled chest and arms and his long, graciously curved neck.

As predicted, it was suppertime when TC reached the Flores ranch situated on the river that served as a border between two friendly countries.

As he dismounted, Senor Flores greeted him effusively, asking about his dear friend George while pointing out the bunkhouse. "TC," he said, "I want to introduce you to the two cowboys whom you will be assisting in rounding up those errant strays: Emilio and Pedro. I will expect you to be in the saddle at sun-up and by suppertime I expect you to have brought 40 of my precious cattle back into the fold. Now, TC, I'm warning you: Should you fall short of my quota, I'll give each of you a lash of this 12-foot long bullwhip for each number under 40 you fall short."

"And so it won't be a surprise, TC," the Senor continued, "it is my practice to waken my cowboys with several lashes of this bullwhip to waken you. There's nothing like a bullwhip to energize a cowboy. As well, TC, I administer a few strokes of this same bullwhip just before you go to bed. Somehow these strokes, as you might guess, also serve as motivation."

The two young cowboys the Senor introduced TC to - just like the cowboys back on the ranch where he worked - wore Wranglers and chaps so tight they had to walk with their knees slightly turned out to compensate for the skintight fit. And the three-inch high heels of their pointed toe cowboy boots also helped emphasize their large packages and deep butt cleavages.

The Senor then motioned two young cowboys leaning against a nearby fence to join him. They stood up, revealing large packages framed in their extremely skintight leather jeans and 5-inch high heeled pointed toe cowboy boots. However, the Senor pointed out they were not regularly working cowboys but served him and his visiting male friends in another way; With a grin he said their way of serving was three-fold: As part-time cowboys if needed, as household servants and as receptacles for his cum and that of friends if they so wished when visiting.

Inadequate performance of any of these three duties was corrected by severe bull whippings - bull whippings that were a powerful motivation and could be administered at any time of the day or night. TC related one example of how they could be punished if the Senor so decreed. This example occurred when the Senor ordered them to ride horseback the three miles into the village where he would have them try out new saddled he had his eye on. "Well," TC said, they rode into the village but they didn't arrive as quickly as their Master wanted. So right there on the Main Street, he bull whipped the seats out of their Wrangs. They were welted beyond any whipping I've ever had. Then he made them ride back the three miles in what could only be the most excruciating pain imaginable, a pain that was not alleviated by the generous spurts of cum that soaked the crotches of their Wrangs.

 

[momoman]

Re: Lost Count (Part One)

I like this, continue

 

[Whipped]

Re: Lost Count (Part Two)

While Emilio and Pablo slept without once moving, TC tossed and turned like a frigate on a gale-tossed ocean. He had alternate dreams. In one he was lying with his cock seeking release in Jake's beautifully shaped, totally sexy, inviting ass. "Jake...Jake...Jake..." he was calling plaintively as he lay on his washboard stomach with his cock as hard as cobalt steel seeking in vain for his beautiful lover's cock hole - the gateway to his being most completely, passionately, fully alive. In the other dream he saw Jake tying his wrists and ankles to the four-poster with two pillows under his stomach and then driving his most beautiful, throbbing, stiff cock into his asshole. A cock any lover would be supremely happy to have knocking, throbbing, assaulting his most private opening.

So deeply and insistently did Jake's cock seek and succeed in entering his asshole that he cried out at being fucked by the most beautiful cock any man could ever display to the world in the skintight Wrangs his lover wore.

In another dream he remembered the plight of the son of one of the medieval czars. The young man's father was so jealous of his son's enormous cock and balls that he had him impaled in the palace courtyard on a young sapling that in three days was driven by the young prince's weight up through his bowels and out through his neck, causing him the most painful, humiliating death any man could be executed by.

Then suddenly in the midst of a dream where he was being mercilessly bull whipped by a black sheriff he came totally, painfully awake as the Senor lashed his bare ass with his 12-foot bullwhip. Groggy for a few seconds, he lost count of the number of lashes, but after he was fully awake he counted at least 12. Once he was fully awake, he was able to count the number of lashes Emilio and Pablo received: 15 each. The two young cowboys took their whippings in silence - except for their heavy breathing. They knew if they cried out they would be bull whipped even more mercilessly and would be laid up for several days.

After working their way into their Wrangs and chaps and hauling on their cowboy boots, something that took time since their boots were smaller than their feet, they splashed water on their two-day whiskered faces to help them come to a greater alertness. The three of them knew they would have to be totally aware of the world around them if they were to locate the stray cattle let alone drive them back to their captivity.

In an unspoken yet very real feeling they held a sympathy for the cattle they were rounding up. While the fate of the cowboys involved repeated fuckings and bull whippings both privately and publicly if they did not meet their quotas for the day, they recognized the fact they were not going to be led to a slaughter and extinction in order to meet the financial needs of their owners. But they were also realistic enough to know that their treatment would be almost too painful to bear if they did not bring the cattle back.

The day was spent in the saddle, all three cowboys not even taking the time to dismount for a piss but piss soaked their Wrangs to save time in their search for the straying cattle. This soaking was also only part of the soaking their crotches received, for their cocks and balls stiffened and discharged repeatedly with the pressure of their Wrangs against their cocks and balls.

Even their lunch they ate in the saddle. And when the day was done - the time at which they had to give up the search and return to the bunkhouse and give an accounting of their success - and take the punishment they had been told they would receive if they did not achieve the quota the Senor set for them. A stroke of the 12-foot bullwhip for each of the cattle under the number of 40 they had not managed to find and bring back to the pasture where they would be held until their owner disposed of them.

And so each of the three was stripped of his Wrangs, chaps and boots and hung up by the ankles to a chain from a hook in the beam in front of the barn and bull whipped: seven strokes each since they had fallen seven short of the number of cattle they had been told they had to find for that day. And as the whip lacerated their asses, they knew they would also be bull whipped just before they went to bed for the night.

 

[Autolycus]

Re: Lost Count (Part One)

Another stinging story - and I thought cowboys walked that way as they spent so long in the saddle!

 

[Whipped]

Re: Lost Count (Part One)

Partly responsible, true, but the superskintight jeans also cause some readjustment in the stride.

 

[Whipped]

Re: Lost Count (Part Three)

As was his custom, Texas Cowboy reached out to give a playful slap on the ass to the cowboy he most loved in the world. Though still very groggy, he realized he was not lying on the mattress beside him. A second later he recognized the two cowboys he was helping round up stray cattle with and a second or two later he was almost asleep again.

His back and ass were still stinging from yesterday's bullwhippings the Senor had administered to each of the three of them: One to wake them up, one to have them keep in mind they had fallen short of the quota he'd set, and one to send them to bed with a reminder of what they had to do the next day. Twenty-two strokes in all - and there was no mistaking their impact: Who would forget to try his very best to bring back all the cattle the Senor had told them to!

TC fell into a fitful sleep and as was the pattern of his dreams - dreams that he remembered that isj -he found himself on a large oval stage with Jake, JJ, Dean and Boi beside him along with five men whose faces he could not see. The faceless men were dressed identically in skintight, flared leather breeches and shiny back leather boots that reached all the way to their knees.

Jake the cowboy with the sexiest walk a cowboy could have, JJ of the beautifully shaped ass that strained the denim in a sexy way, Dean with the looks of a movie star, and Boi with the most magnificent eyes and cheekbones imaginable - all were standing beside him with the five breeches guys behind them. He, along with his fellow cowboys, were wearing their faded, paperthin superskintight Wrangs but no chaps, hats or boots. Just Wrangs that told the world they had supersized packages and two-apple asses. Their hair that reached to the top of their asscracks blew in the breeze from overhead fans and partly covered their foreheads and eyes as they stood therer at attention.

The military-style dress of the men behind them was further accentuated by the military style haircuts. In fact, they were almost shorn of hair; but as far as their faces were concerned, only clipped Adolf Hitler style moustaches were visible. What TC did notice with a rising heartbeat was seeing the bullwhips, baseball bats and a horse's tail and halter each of the five men was holding.

The men ordered the five cowboys to get down on their hands and knees in front of them. They obeyed this command as quickly as they could but also with some difficulty given the superskintight fit of their Wrangs. Once in position, each man took out a knife and sliced a hole in the crack seam just where the asshole was located. Into the hole of each cowboy they inserted a huge butt plug to which was attached a horse's tail.

Then striking the ass of each cowboy-horse they ordered them to turn around in order to have a halter placed on their heads. With the cowboys now with the appearance of a horse, the man in charge of each one mounted him facing backwards and proceeded to whip his ass and commanded with an angry voice that this worthless nag was to proceed around the stage in the formation of a circle. To ensure that the movement was steady and in an orderly fashion the riders kept up a steady bullwhipping pattern, the cracking sound of which reverberated through the hall and elicited guffawas of laughter from the not very friendly audience.

Just as they were completing the tenth go-around, TC woke and sat bolt upright, expecting the man bullwhipping him to strike his tender asscheeks another stinging crack. But instead of seeing a bullwhipped, humiliated Jake, JJ, Dean and Boi, there were only two sleeping cowboys beside him. And with a sense of relief he realized their being driven around the stage with dozens of spectators crying "turn their saucy asses to pulp" was only a dream.

 

[Whipped]

Re: Lost Count (Part Four)

The third day the three of us managed to meet the quota the Senor had set for and we allowed to have supper and go to bed without being whipped. We were all extremely tired and sleep descended almost as fast as as fighter jet ascends into the sky. The following morning we arose an hour later than we had been when we were hunting down the cattle and returning them, as the song goes, "safely to the fold."

It is three weeks now since the morning of the fourth day and after eating a breakfast of pancakes laced with syrup I mounted my horse and headed for the river that, once forded, would see my soon in the welcoming arms and ass of the cowboy I most loved in the world.

However, my return was not to be as soon as I anticipated, for I was half way across the river (a stream really where I was crossing) only to be yanked out of the saddle and into the tepid water that filled my boots and soaked my Wrangs and chaps and left me struggling to stand up.

Standing on the bank about 100 feet away was a man who had roped me with a lariat that I had not seen until it descended over my head and pinioned my arms to the sides of my chest and caused me to take the spill I have described. My horse continued on across the river but the man reeled me in as though I was a rather large fish. I half stumbled and was half dragged to the shore I had just left a a couple of minutes or so before.

Once n the shore, the man, a very tall man for sure, yanked me to my feet and the water dripped out of my hair down over my forehead, face and chest. My Wrangs and chaps were also dripping; but, given the heat already spilling into the morning, they dried quite quickly, And as usual, as my Wrangs dried, they had an even tighter fit so that my - as Jake says - "that cute, sexy ass is the most appealing ass in the whole world" showed itself off to the usual delight of those who saw me when that happened. Of course, I was always the cynosure of on-lookers, but the tightened Wrangs was something to behold. Jake once said in my tightened Wrangs I was one of the seven sexiest wonders of the world.

And my chaps tightened too so that I stood before my captor totally exposed. No shirt or jacket and with my golden, crack length hair blowing in the breeze and my jeans cutting my ass in two and packaging my enormous cock and balls as though they were wrapped in cellophane I would have to agree I was about the sexiest looking cowboy in at least either Texas or Mexico. And I don't mean to sound braggy either. The truth's the truth.

And the whipmarks the Senor had given me still crisscrossed my muscular back and these my captor noticed and said he was going to leave whipmarks on my back and ass that would far outrival the ones he could see. At this promise I could not help my cock and balls from shuddering at the prospect, for they always reacted to such whippings with alacrity and, steel hard growth and gobs of cum.

I was immediately blindfolded and had my thumbs put through the front beltloops of my Wrangs and so, prodded by strokes of the man's bullwhip, marched to a van into the back of which I was forced by being guided by the man's thumb driven through the beltloop over my crack. Needless to say, but I am, the pressure on my crack and asshole was also extremely stimulating and I could feel the cum flowing in a steady stream.

The van driver took note of this too and said to the man lifting me into the van, "He's gotta be the biggest piece of meat we've ever captured. The Boss will be pleased and won't he have fun whipping that ass and milking this shitass."

My heart pounded and my cock continued exploding as I was driven over a road full of potholes. The drive lasted about an hour - or so it seemed to me. At the end of the drive the roadway was smooth. This I took note of for with the ceasing of the pothole drive my cock also subsided somewhat as the pressure of the chain eased - the chain that ran from the van ceiling under my cock and balls (tightly at that) and up my ass crack to another hook in the ceiling.

For the next 10 days I was bullwhipped every day until I fainted. "Just testing to see how long it takes you to faint from the bullwhippings the Prince will give you when you get where he's living." And he continued, "He'll love the soaking the crotch of your jeans gets from the flow of your cum. And he'll be ecstatic with the huge stains of dried cum that'll build up on the crotch of your jeans."

And turning to one of my captors, he continued, "He's going to a favorite. I bet he'll give us a hefty bonus for capturing this beauty."

Then turning to me he chuckled, "And you're about a half foot shorter than he and 100 pounds lighter, so he'll be able to pick you up easily and press your asshole to his cock that's as fat as a baseball where the ball hits it. And, as well, that's a pretty, full, heart-shaped mouth that he'll love to have clean his cock after he's fucked you for an afternoon and evening. My boy, you're in for some serious bullwhipping, fucking and cleaning cock."

 

[Whipped]

Re: Lost Count (Part Five)

During my imprisonment I was bullwhipped each day until I almost lost consciousness. "The Master will want to know what the limits are when he gives you his daily whippings," my captor said. "If you can't take a total of 50 a day, you'll not be around very long."

And he also measured the size of my cock to see if it was long enough and fat enough to please his tastes. At 13 inches long and the size of a huge cucumber my captor felt I had sufficiently long and large enough measurements to satisfy his Master's requirements. "I notice your package is always stiff and that'll please him immensely. None of these stiff and flaccid packages for him," he chuckled. "He'll give us a bonus for catching such a big, fat, stiff cock and balls set as youu sport in those Wrangs and chaps. And such a sexy ass on you as well!"

So I was fucked and bullwhipped and groomed for the role I was to play in the Master's harem. From what I gleaned by being attentive to what was said I gathered this "Master" had 20 boy toys of various racial and ethnic backgrounds and spent his days whipping, fucking and playing with the cocks and balls of his harem. And he kept them in cages that were built so that they fit like skintight jeans enabling him to conduct his playtimes without having them collapse from being constantly drained of cum.

My captor was also pleased with the flow of cum from my cock when he played with me to see how much of the man juices I produced with each session. "What a Mount Vesuvius this boy is!" he explained as my cum shot out of my cockslit half way across the room. And this "Vesuvius" shot out of my cock each time he played with me.

"You'll be a prize boy toy for sure!" he said as he kept unzipping the crotch of my Wrangs and squeezing my cock and balls what seemed like 20 times a day.

Finally I was considered ready to be flown to the palace where the Master was said to be awaiting my arrival with the greatest of expecttions. "He has had a new 15-foot long bullwhip made just to lash your pretty ass with," my captor said. "He insists his boytoys lick the bullwhip he uses on them both before he whips and after. It's one of his pleasures - one of his greatest pleasures - and North American boytoys provide him his greatest pleasure. Nothing like paying them back for all the years their ancestors enslaved other races."

Finally at dawn on the fifteenth day of preparation a small plane arrived and I was put on board wearing a pair of absolutely the tightest black leather jeans I had ever worn. They also had a zipper that sank into my crack and this was opened and my asshole was forced down onto a huge cock that was fastened to the floor of the plane. Of course this sent by cock and balls into overdrive and the bumpy air the plane was flying though had the same effect as the holes in the pavement did - the holes that caused the van I was being driven in to lurch and almost give a ride like being on a bucking bronco.

We were over the river and flying along an eastern tributary when suddenly and without warning the plane nosedived straight into the river and I was knocked unconscious. There was no time for me or anyone else to have more than a second's sense of panic so fast did the plane hit the water. We had been flying low so as to avoid detection and this fact meant we did not have far to go.

By some miracle I was thrust to the cabin ceiling and, as a result, I was lifted off the cock that my asshole was impaled on. The water flooded the cabin up to my waist and it half buoyed me off the floor. No other occupant of the plane seemed to be alive and I managed to half float, half crawl to the gap in the cabin that the crash had created. Once out of the plane I managed to crawl to shore - fortunately on the bank that was my home state side.

I managed to crawl up on the shore - a sandy one that seemed to crumble underneath my weight and caused me to slide two feet back for every one I managed to go forward. After I reached the top of the dune (for that is what it was), I lay down exhausted but not before I managed to pull of my boots and dump the water out of them.

I don't know for sure how long I slept on the bank of sand but I was awakened sometime in the early evening by a woman's voice exprssing her surprise at finding me lying there. I managed to stand up in the leather jeans that must have shrunk at least two inches around my waist for I thought the crack seam was going to split me in two and my cock and balls were - well, like they were not covered by any kind of material whatsoever.

Without any tinge of embarrassment in her voice, the young woman in skintight jeans and chaps remarked before saying anything else, "What a package you're sporting!"

Then she said, "Excuse me for being so blunt. But you have to admit you're spectacular in the cock, balls and ass departments! But tell me, what happened?"

I explained the situation that had led me - miraculously - to the situation she found me in. And after calls to the border patrol and exclamations as to what had happened, this young woman whose name she said was Texana took me to her ranch for the night and for the opportunity to call my homw ranch. This call was one of the most joyful I have ever made. Jake was ecstatic as were JJ, Dean and Boi.They had given me up for lost - especially when the horse I had been riding turned up bedrasggled, starving and almost on the point of death.

The next morning Texana intrudcued me to the cowboys who worked for her. I learned she was only 20, had recently inherited the ranch at her father's death, and as the new owner arranged to have cowboys hired who met her specific desires. She liked to be the boss of men in their early thirties who were - as she said - as handsome as movie stars and built like Adonises.

She required them to wear Wrangs and chaps as skintight as mine and the other requirement was that they liked being boosed by a woman and bullwhipped every day by the boss-woman. So at sun-up this is what she did: She marched them to a pole fence that they bent over and received 10 lashes of her bullwhip before worming their way into their Wrangs and chaps.

"At suppertime I bullwhip their backs - and you can see the whipmarks from the previous days," she pointed out as they stood their for inspection before breakfast. And she concluded her comments by pointing out the dried stains on the crotches of thei Wrangs, "It gives me the greatest pleasure to see dried cum from last week's bullwhippings.

She said she would like to give me a bullwhipping too. "Consider it a payback for my rescuing you. You're maybe 25 or 26 and not in your early thirties but I'd still like to see that cock spew its load. Please," she aasked. "As a special favor."

And so I took off my leather jeans and she gave me 15 of the strongest lashes I have ever taken. Eight on my ass and even on my back. I admit they stung like no other byullwhipping I've ever had, but I managed not to do more than whimper.

After breakfast she drove me in her Jeep to the ranch where I live and work and where i was given the most joyous reception imaginable. The stain that spread on the crotch of Jake's Wrangs was enormous and he sported it without apology. letting it dry there for everyone to see when we went to town for lunch.

Texana was greatly amused by this stain and said even though Jake was a year or so younger than me she would love to bullwhip his cute, sexy ass as well. And, she said laughingly, "I'd like to bullwhip the asses of Dean, JJ and Boi as well. What a sexy group of cowboys you all are."

 

[Whipped]

Re: Lost Count (Part Five)

There seemed to be twice as many hours in the afternoon than usual as the five cowboys rescued baby calves from the heavy downpour accompanied by near hurricane force winds that swept the region. Texas Cowboy and Jake had a hard time from keeping their hands and eyes off one another. For Jake TC's return was, somewhat parallel to the biblical story of the return of the prodigal son. Except of course TC's absence had not been of his making, but the joy Jake felt was akin to the father of the young man who had strayed away and then returned home after several years.

The five cowboy friends did not eat their supper until just before bedtime that was only hours away before their next working day. But as soon as they ate the steaks Jake grilled for them, they stripped off their Wrangs, chaps and boots and it is quite literally true that they leapt joyfully and raucously onto their mattresses.

It was almost as though Jake had not expected to feel TC's enormous cock inside him ever again and he literally shed tears as he felt the accustomed eagerness of all of the 13 inches that had finally come back to their true home. And it was somewhat the same feeling for the other young men too as they participated in a journey of cocks that spewed cum as though Niagara Falls had tried to give passage to three times the volume of water that normally cascaded down its escarpment.

Next morning the storm had travelled to the east and a fiery sun turned the ranch into a version of Hades, but the work had to continue. The ranch foreman, a very understanding and kind-hearted man, asked TC if he would take the truck and trailer over to the steel factory where cattle guards had to be picked up. This time was the first for him to pick up material designed and made there and he was not prepared for the bullwhipping they gave him once he arrived for the material: 25 strokes on his bare ass and back.

It seemed the workers in the factory had a thing about bull riding cowboys, for TC later heard of other bull riding cowboys whom they had bullwhipped when they, too, called for equipment. It seemed from this shared information that they had it in in a serious way for cowboys who took part in such a dangerous sport. And it is easy to pick out a bull riding cowboy, for among all the handsome, sexy cowboys who strut around in skintight Wrangs and chaps it is bull riders who wear the tightest ones.

So it was a natural reaction when they saw TC in his superskintight Wrangs and equally superskintight chaps with his giant bullrider belt buckle as well that they said to one another, "Look what we've got here: A dirty bullriding cowboy. Let's see how tough he is!"

They gave TC the option of taking off his Wrangs, chaps and boots or having them cut off him. Not wanting to part with his jeans, chaps and boots, he said he would take them off. And this he did but very slowly for they fit so tightly it was not easy to peel them off his muscular body to which the denim was so tightly fitted the only wrinkles in them was behind his knees. And these wrinkles were very sexy and appealing not only to other guys and gals but obviously also to the workers, for they actually brushed their hands against the backs of his knees before he pulled the jeans down around his ankles.

 

[Whipped]

Re: Lost Count (Seven)

When TC finally stood naked before the bullwhippers, they grabbed him and tied his ankles to a chain and pulled the chain up to a beam so that his crack length golden hair did not get in the way of the bullwhip as its struck with its sizzling fury on his back and then on his cute, tight , sexy ass. After 25 strokes they ceased the bullwhipping and dropped him on his head and neck to the ground. "Well, you sure can take a bullwhipping," the taller of the two men said. "I think we'll have to arrange to use this bullwhip on your back and ass more often."

With those words spoken while TC managed to pull on his Wrangs over his beet red ass followed by his chaps and boots, the men helped him load the trailer. And with his lacerated ass half sitting on the truck seat, he drove back to the ranch. Potholes which he could not avoid were total agony.

When the other cowboys heard what had happened, two of them, Jake, and a friend who was visiting, decided to go to the factory and teach the workers a lesson. But they were overpowered and strung up by the heels also and they were bullwhipped themselves. Twenty-five strokes on their bare asses (none on their backs) left their asscheeks as blood red and more welted than TC's were. So welted almost beyond bearing the pain, they returned to the ranch and admitted sheepishly they had not expected their own bullwhipping to be the outcome of their mission.

That night TC rubbed Jake's asscheeks with oliveira and Jake lovingly did the same for TC's. And as dawn approached, their last marks were less painful enough so that TC lifted Jake up by placing his arms under his and with great eagerness accepted TC's enormous, pulsating cock up his ass. JJ, Dean and Boi were sound asleep as only cowboys can be just before they have to rise, worm their muscular legs and cocks and balls into their superskintight Wrangs and chaps and work their barefeet into cowboy boots that are just a tad too small.

And if one could monitor their dreams, they would have found each of these handsome young sleeping cowboys dreaming about practising bullriding in preparation for the next rodeo. And if one were able to monitor their cocks and balls they would have found them rock hard and about to fire as, in their dreams, TC was about to bullwhip their asses imprisoned in their superskintight Wrangs and chaps for being hurled off the angry bulls they were trying master.

 

[Trevor6]

Cowboys are so damn hot thanks