Ropes, Gags, and Jockstraps: Volume Four

By Keegan Kennedy

Ropes, Gags, and Jockstraps - the M4M erotic anthology from “The King of Gay Bondage Erotica," Keegan Kennedy. Volume Four contains three published works.

Playing with Fire is the story of Kansas cowboy and ranch foreman, Steed McKinnon. Steed's world is turned upside down by the return of his boss' 19 year old son, Cullen Buchanan. Cullen seduces the straight cowboy, but Steed quickly develops an intense attraction for the hot bottom. Will they be able to keep their affair secret from the ranch patriarch, Mr. Buchanan?

Five-Finger Discount is the short story of a fraternity prank gone wrong. When fraternity pledge, Brett Andrews, is ordered to shoplift as part of his initiation into the brotherhood, he is captured by two horny security guards. Once he mouths off to them, Brett's fate is sealed, and he finds two massive probes ready for both of his entries.

Set amidst the backdrop of the Battle of Little Bighorn in the days of the Wild West, The Ballad of Luke James is the story of a handsome and hung cowboy outlaw, who happens to be the first cousin of Jesse James. At 24, Luke realizes that it is only a matter of time before a younger, quicker cowboy comes along to shoot him in the back. Looking to pull off one last job before moving on to greener pastures, Luke's gang kidnaps the son of a wealthy rancher to hold for ransom. Luke's world is turned upside down when the rugged cowboy falls for the submissive rich teen boy. Will Luke and young Dillon Donovan be able to ride off into the sunset together or will the gunslinger go down in a blaze of glory?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Keegan Kennedy
• Release date: Jul 11, 2018
• ISBN: 9780463219546

Keegan Kennedy

Originally hailing from Mississippi, Keegan Kennedy is a writer based out of Memphis, TN. He's a self-described, ‘aging, former sex symbol’ with a kinky imagination. Keegan is fascinated with the natural power exchanges between dominant and submissive males, and his stories reflect that fascination. The fantasies that he shares are full of adventure, peril, bondage, and a dry wit. And he has a knack for uncovering love and romance in the darkest of places. With a tendency toward the melodramatic, he does more than arouse or excite the reader - he engages them.Author of Homecoming: International Number One in four countries: The United States, The United Kingdom, Germany and Canada. Author of Homecoming: International Number One in four countries: The United States, The United Kingdom, Germany and Canada. Author of eBook Number Ones: The Substitute Wife, Magnificent Pretense, Captivated, Ganymede 4, West Texas Rivalry, Taken, The Christmas Bottom, The Party Favor, Stupid Jocks Make the Best Submissives, College Endowment, Who Wears the Pants in the Family?, Saving Drake McKenzie, Heisting Hogan, Half Past Midnight, Crossroads, and Man of the House.

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Ropes, Gags, and Jockstraps

Volume Four

A Keegan Kennedy Anthology

By Keegan Kennedy

Published by Kennedy-Empire Media

Copyright 2012, 2013, 2018

Smashwords Edition

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without written permission from the publisher or author.

This book is a work of fiction. Places, events, and situations in this story are purely fictional. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead is coincidental.

The opinions and comments made by the characters are not necessarily indicative of those of the author, Keegan Kennedy, the publisher, Kennedy-Empire Media or the e-Book platform from which this work was published.

Table of Contents:

Playing With Fire

Five-Finger Discount

The Ballad of Luke James

Other Titles from Keegan Kennedy

About the Author

Playing With Fire

Original Publication Date:

September, 29, 2012

They say if you play with fire that you’ll surely get burned, and although I didn’t know yet, I was about to be scorched…

The name’s Steed McKinnon, and I was a sixth generation cowboy and damn proud of it.

The McKinnons had been in Wabaunsee County since the days of my great, great grandfather, Hiram McKinnon. Sitting on my granddaddy’s knee as a boy, I would listen as he told stories about old Hiram. He had fought in the Civil War as a Confederate soldier for Mississippi. After they’d lost, Hiram left the South and moved here to Wabaunsee County, Kansas. He had worked really hard, and about ten years after he came to these parts, the McKinnons owned half of the county.

Back in the day, my family had been big-time cattle ranchers. But great granddaddy Luther had blown it all on liquor and women, so my family had ended up flat broke. So, the McKinnons went back to working for other people and that was the life I’d always known.

My father and his father before him had worked for the Buchanans for the last seventy years. Since then, our two families seemed to be intertwined.

My dad died of a heart attack eight years ago. I’d been 24 at the time. Mr. Ben Buchanan had offered me my father’s job as the foreman on his ranch.

I loved this land. The green prairies. The wide open spaces. The animals. Even the rough winters weren’t that bad. Also, I liked and respected the Buchanan family. And I loved working with my hands, so I’d accepted the job.

Mr. Buchanan was good to me. He paid me fifty thousand a year and treated me like one of the family. The Buchanans owned about 1500 square miles and about 6000 head of cattle. Mr. Buchanan also had large corn and wheat operations on the western side of the place. My job as the ranch foreman was to oversee the cattle and manage the rowdy ranch hands.

So, for the last eight years, I had worked contently and lived a pretty decent life. But sometimes a man’s fortunes can change and mine sure as hell did.

It started off like any other Friday—busy as hell, but with pay in your pocket.

Around lunchtime, Pete Sheffield, one of the ranch’s hired hands that I oversaw, and I were riding our horses near the creek on the south part of the ranch, looking for a pregnant heifer. Often, cows liked to wander off before they spit out the calves from their nethers. Usually, they’d end up around the line of trees that flanked both sides of the creek with the calf’s head or legs hanging out their rear end. There was always a danger of the momma cow rolling over and killing the calf during delivery, so we usually tried rounding up the pregnant ones and closing them in a pen near the barn. Sometimes, like today, we’d have to find them, catch them, and often help them if the calves got stuck by pulling them out. It was a pretty dirty job, but I never did mind it too much.

Pete was a good ole boy and a career cowboy like myself. He was tall, but a few inches shorter than me. Around forty, he had a slender frame with an angular face and a mustache.

Just as we’d spotted the black heifer with the ear tag numbered 3256, my phone rang from my belt. I yanked the reins on my horse, Pearl, and we came to a stop.

Looking down at the display, I answered the call immediately.

Howdy, Boss, I greeted.

It was Mr. Buchanan. His calls were never to ring over to voicemail.

Steed, I need ya to come up to the main house, he replied swiftly. I got ya an errand to run for me.

Yes, Sir, be up there in a few minutes.

Pete, I called out, the boss is bellering for me.

I got her, he replied over his shoulder, talking about the pregnant heifer.

After parting ways with Pete, I galloped to the main barn and stabled old Pearl. Dressed in my button-down western shirt, faded jeans, boots, belt, and my cowboy hat, I hauled ass toward the main house.

At thirty-two, I was still in my prime. At 6’3, I had brown hair and blue eyes. I had a strong and brawny frame from my years of working on the ranch. I guessed you could say I had a gym body without the gym. I had wide shoulders, big arms, and a flat stomach with muscled pecs. The girls in town always told me that I was handsome. I’d never placed much store in looks, though. I was just me.

Entering through the kitchen door of the Buchanan ranch house, I spotted Rosarita, the sweet Mexican cook, working over the stove.

Hey, Rosarita, I muttered absently.

Ah, Senor Steed! she exclaimed in her thick accent. We no see you much in kitchen!

It was true. The other hands and I usually ate in the dining room in the bunkhouse, where they lived. Being the ranch foreman, I had my little cabin by the lake.

Mr. Buchanan wanted to see me. Do ya know where he is?

He be in his study, Rosarita said.

Thanks, I muttered as I strolled past her and out the swinging double doors leading from the kitchen. I entered the main downstairs hallway of the two-story mansion. The sound of my boots echoed in the long corridor.

I swear that Mr. Buchanan’s home was like walking into a western museum. There were all sorts of antiques on display sitting on pillars or in glass cases, while chandeliers hung from the ceiling. The walls were covered with incredible paintings of cowboys, horses, and western landscapes.

The bedrooms, which I had never really strayed into, were luxurious with very expensive furnishings and even more expensive doodads and paintings. The decorations had all been done by Mr. Buchanan’s second wife, Montana. They’d been divorced for the better part of fifteen years. Old Mr. Buchanan was sixty-years-old and had just divorced his fourth wife.

Approaching a closed door in the grand hallway, I came to a stop and tapped lightly.

Come in! I heard Mr. Buchanan call out from behind the closed door.

I opened the grandiose door of Mr. Buchanan’s study. This was not my first time in here, but the over-the-top decor always knocked my socks off. There were all sorts of guns like muskets, shotguns, and pistols on display—some even dating back to the Revolutionary War. Tons of mounted animal heads were arranged all over the walls. Three bucks with massive antlers. A buffalo. An elephant. A mountain lion. Two bears—one white and one brown. And an elk.

I hoped I never pissed off the old man or my head might be mounted up there next to the elephant.

Mr. Buchanan was sitting behind his massive desk, which I think was made out of mahogany. Looking up from his laptop while sitting in his leather chair, the old man greeted me with a smile.

Steed! he said pleasantly, standing up and extending his hand to me over his desk.

Good afternoon, Mr. Buchanan.

Good afternoon to you too, son, he replied. How’s it lookin’ out yonder?

Going smooth, Sir. Sorry it took me a few minutes to get up here, but I was out on the south range with Pete hunting down a pregnant heifer.

Never mind that, Mr. Buchanan scoffed as he took a sip of whiskey from his glass. I need ya to run an errand for me.

Sure thing. Anything you need, Sir.

I knew I could count on ya! he exclaimed with a wince as the large gulp of whiskey hit his stomach. I need ya to drive down ta Kansas City and pick up Cullen at the airport.

Cullen is gonna be staying with us? I asked curiously.

Cullen Buchanan was his only child. When Mr. Buchanan had divorced his second wife, Montana, she’d taken Cullen back to Dallas with her when he was like five or so. His last visit had been when he was twelve. With his blonde curls and his blue eyes, he had followed me around like I was his big brother. It had been real cute. Because of wife number two not getting along with wife number four, Cullen hadn’t visited the ranch in seven years. The last I heard tell Cullen was going to the University of Texas.

Yep and his visit might be a long ‘un?

He must be out for the summer.

Maybe longer than just the summer, Mr. Buchanan said flatly.

Is anything wrong, Sir?

The older man took another huge swig of whiskey. That boy has driven me to distraction! he griped. After he started college down in Texas, Cullen joined up with one of them fraternities and has gone buck wild! The boy made all F’s!

Cullen? I asked incredulously. He was always such a smart boy.

Well, once he got shed of his momma’s apron strings and started living on my dime in Austin, it’s been nothing but a party! So, the boy has been recalled.

Recalled?

Yeah, Steed, I cut off the money, and he’s coming here, so I can set the boy straight! Life ain’t about drinking and goofing off!

So, you’ve pulled him outta school?

Hell, yeah! I won’t let my only son grow up to be some spoiled, rich brat! I’m gonna teach him the ranch and that’s where I’ll really need your help.

What can I do, Mr. Buchanan? I asked genuinely.

Spend some time with my boy. He’s always looked up to you. Hell, you’re only like thirteen years apart. You could easily be his older brother. He paused. Show him the ropes. Take him under your wing.

I’ll do what I can, I swore.

Mr. Buchanan grinned. I knew’d ya would. He gave me a friendly slap on the shoulder. Okay, Cullen’s flight comes in at five. You should have plenty of time to get to Kansas City and then some. He’s comin’ in on Delta Airlines Flight 1878, he concluded, handing me a piece of paper with the information printed off. Again, I appreciate all ya can do for the boy.

I smiled at him. I promise I won’t let ya down, Sir.

After finishing up some loose ends, I hopped in my old truck about 2:30 and started for Kansas City.

From around Alma, it was a straight shot down Interstate 70 and only about a hundred miles.

I was looking forward to seeing Cullen. The last time I’d seen him, he’d been only twelve, so I hoped I’d recognize him.

Hearing Mr. Buchanan talk about his son reminded me of my son, Cody. He was gonna be five this year. About six years back, I had a brief marriage to Cody’s mom, Janine. Our marriage had only lasted about two years. Janine had wanted more out of life than what I could give her, so she’d taken off with some drunk from Topeka and took my little boy with her. Then and there, I’d sworn off marriage.

Several local girls in town had tried to change my mind about that, but this was one bull that wouldn’t be going back into the stable.

The last woman who tried to reel me in was this sweet little barmaid by the name of Michelle. We had dated and fucked for several weeks, but she figured out that I wasn’t the marrying kind, so she moved on down the line. That had been ended about three weeks ago. I couldn’t say that I missed her too much, but I sure did miss the fucking.

Anyway, I got to the Kansas City International Airport about 4:15 on that warm May afternoon. Since I had some time to kill before Cullen’s flight arrived, I stopped at one of the bars in the airport, killed three beers, and flirted with this bartender by the name of Tiffany.

Afterwards, I found an arrival board and waited by the terminal exit. Hundreds of busy and irritated-looking passengers, who had just gotten off flights, were hustling by like cattle on some mass migration. I stood there in the middle of them, waiting to catch sight of Cullen. I just hoped I’d recognize him.

Out of the crowd, I focused on a bright-eyed, blond boy approaching me. From the beaming smile on his face and the intense eye contact, I knew that this was little Cullen Buchanan all grown up.

He looked to be about 5’9 or so. He had thick blonde hair, just like the little twelve-year-old boy that I had known