Montana Bull Ride

Forward

The year is 2021. The economy which began its decline in 2001 has become worse. There is a world wide depression. To provide funds to operate essential services such as prisons and to provide diversion for a depressed and economically deprived populace, sports have become much more violent. Instead of spending money on long-term incarceration of prisoners, those that would be sentenced to death, or to life imprisonment, are forced to participate in gladiatorial contests which, not only eliminate most of them, but provide entertainment for the masses. As in ancient Rome, admission to the coliseums is free, but the television rights are sold to the networks to provide operating revenue for the prisons. Most sex offenders are physically castrated. This is the story of the contest in which they participate. A lucky few will escape castration. It is being broadcast on ESPN. The announcers are Al Michaels, Jr. and Bob Costas, Jr., sons, who are following their famous fathers’ careers. We’ll join them as they broadcast the event, a bull riding contest.

The Contest

“Welcome everyone to ESPN’s coverage of another castration contest. Tonight we’re in Great Falls, Montana for a bull riding contest. My name is Bob Costas. Seated next to me is my co-host, Al Michaels.”

“Thank you, Bob. If you watched our broadcast last week,” Al said to the audience, “you’ll remember that we broadcast a bicycle race from California. Tonight we’re in Great Falls, Montana, and the contest this time is a bull riding contest.”

“Can you tell us, Al, why they don’t use a bicycle race here in Montana. I must say: the one last week in California was exciting.”

“Yes, it was, Bob, but this is Montana. Here they think that bicycle races are for sissies. Bull riding is a real man’s sport.”

“How does this work, Al. Do the offenders have a chance to escape castration?”

“Yes, they do, Bob. All they have to do is stay on the bull for eight seconds.”

“Then they all could escape castration?”

“It’s not likely, Bob. These are tough bulls. Even professional bull riders would have difficulty lasting eight seconds, and most of the offenders have never been on a bull in their lives.”

“How is the castration accomplished, Al? In California, each bicycle was equipped with a castration device. Are the bulls equipped with a castration device?”

“Actually, they are, Bob, but it’s much simpler than those that were on the bikes. When the bull rider mounts the bull, a thin wire loop is placed around his balls. If he’s thrown, the noose tightens, cutting off his balls along with his scrotum.”

“How does he get off, then, if he lasts eight seconds?”

“There’s a timing device built in to the mechanism to which the wire is attached. After eight seconds the wire is released by the device.”

“What if the rider bounces on the bull, but doesn’t get thrown? Wouldn’t the wire still cut off his balls?”

There’s about two feet of slack in the wire, Bob. It doesn’t tighten up until the rider has actually been thrown; but, I see that we only have ten contestants tonight, Bob; last week we had 125. Would you tell the audience why that is?”

“Of course, Al. California has the most population of any state in the Union. Montana doesn’t have nearly so many sex offenders to castrate. Since there are fewer offenders tonight, however, we’ll have an opportunity to learn more about each of them. For instance, Joe Robbie is our special attraction tonight.”

“Why have they singled out Mr. Robbie for special treatment, Bob?”

“He’s guilty of rape of a child, in this case-a young boy. Look-they’re bringing Robby out now.”

“I see that Robbie doesn’t have any clothes on.”

“All the participants will be nude, Al”

“I understand that Robbie won’t be riding a bull tonight.”

“That’s right, Al. Robbie gets no chance to save either his penis or his balls. He loses both-and will be fortunate to survive this night. They’ve built a special table for Robbie. See, it’s out in the middle of the arena. The table is about as wide as Robbie’s body, and comes up to his crotch. It’s nailed to a large sheet of plywood so that it can’t turn over. They’re leading Robbie to table now.”

Two guards, holding Robbie by each arm, led him to the table. Two rodeo assistants tied his legs to the table legs; then placed his penis and testicles on the table top.

“What are they going to do now, Bob?”

“Watch, Al. This should be good.”

Although Robbie struggled, the burly guards held him firmly against the table as one of the assistants spread his testicles apart. As he held the left testicle in place, his partner, after picking up a 16 penny nail and a hammer, poised the point of the nail above Robbie’s nut.

“They’re going to nail his balls to the table, Bob.”

“That’s right, Al; and, when they’re finished with his balls, they’ll nail his cock to the table as well. Let’s watch while they do it.”

On a prearranged signal, the assistant brought the hammer down onto the head of the nail.

“Geez, Bob. Did you hear Robbie scream?”

“Al, they heard that scream over in Helena-the next town.”

The assistant continued pounding in the nail until Robbie’s left testicle was smashed flat against the table; then he did the same to the right. Robbie’s shrieks continued throughout the process. The assistant, when he was through with the balls, after stretching out Robbie’s cock, twisting it around so that he could place the nail at the point of the “V” underneath the head, drove a nail through his cock into the table. Six more spikes were used to pin Robbie’s cock to the table, each through his urethra; then Robbie was bent over on top of his cock and pierced-and smashed-nuts where he was tied to the table with his butt prominently displayed. The other assistant, after donning a surgical glove, lubed Robbie’s anus with K-Y jelly.

“Wow, that was intense, Bob. What happens next?”

“Robbie likes to fuck kids in the ass, so now-he’s going to get fucked; and here comes his sex partner into the arena-as we speak.”

“But, all I see is a couple of guys leading a donkey, Bob.”

“That’s it, Al. He’s going to get fucked by that donkey.”

“Jesus, is that the donkey’s dick, hanging down between his back legs? My God, it is. That thing must be three feet long. No wonder they call big dicks-donkey dicks. Will the donkey actually do it-I mean-will it actually fuck Robbie.”

“You bet it will, Al. It’s been trained. It’s come to like a little human ass.”

They led the donkey to the table where Robbie was pinned; it mounted him, and, with assistance from the helpers, who guided the donkey’s cock to Robbie’s ass, began thrusting it into his anus. Robbie’s screams intensified as the pounding ripped the shreds of his penis and balls from the table. After the donkey filled him with its cum, Robbie was carried, unconscious, from the arena, bleeding from his crotch and his anus. A prodigal amount of donkey cum was mixed in with the blood that was pouring from his ass.

“Wow, he won’t be able to sit down for a month, Bob.”

“No, Al, if he lives through that ass fucking, he’s going to have to wear a diaper from now on. No way will his asshole ever close up again after that. Are you ready for some bull riding, Al?”

“You bet, Bob. Who’s first?”

“We’re starting with the youngest first, Tim Granger, a fifteen year-old.”

“What did he do?”

“He had sex with another boy, a sixteen year-old, James Strickland. That’s him standing next to Tim.”

“Is he riding, too, Bob?”

“Yes, and because he seduced a younger boy, his cock is at risk, too. A wire will be around it, as well as his balls.”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, Bob, but that wouldn’t have been an offense in California, would it?”

“No, Al, they’re more tolerant of gays in California, but this, again, is Montana. You don’t want to grow up gay in this state.”

“Yeah, I’m glad I didn’t-uh-I mean-no, you wouldn’t. Look, Bob. They’ve both got erections. Hey, the younger boy, Tim, is going down on the other one. Is that allowed? I thought they didn’t like any gay behavior in this state.”

“Anything goes-as long as no one is forced to have sex-during the time from when the riders are brought out until they actually ride the bull. They get to have their last orgasm, or in some cases, two or three, before they lose their balls,” answered Bob, nudging his partner because Al was rubbing his own hard cock-through his pants-too vigorously. Al looked up, sheepishly.

Meanwhile, the other riders, watching Tim work on James’ cock, were massaging their own. It became a regular circle jerk, except for two, Harvey Wilson and Travis Swanson, who had paired up. Harvey bent Travis over and began fucking him in the ass. Travis, going to a three point stance on the arena floor, used his right hand to pump his own pud. As Harvey squirted his cum into Travis’ ass, Travis spilt his seed onto the ground.

Tim, having already swallowed one load, was feverishly working on James’ cock to obtain another, rubbing his own cock while he did. From where he was-on his knees-his cum-when he climaxed-almost struck him in the face. He swallowed James’ second load, and was working on a third, when they called his name. It was time for the first bull riding event.

The announcer said, “Out of chute #1, riding Hurricane, is Tim Granger. Tim is fifteen years-old, and has never been on a bull. Only his balls are at risk-for having gay sex.”

Al, who was having difficulty keeping his hand off his own cock, said, “Jesus,” as they helped Tim onto Hurricane, a large, almost white, Brahma bull. “The kid’s still got a hard on, Bob. Look, they’re putting the wire around his balls.”

Barely out of the gate, Hurricane arched his back, throwing Tim straight up into the air. Two feet above the bull’s back the wire became taunt, separating Tim’s balls from his cock. They hung, for a moment, suspended in mid air, at the end of the wire, before falling back to the bull’s back, where they continued to flop back and forth-from one side to the other-as the bull bucked, until eventually they slipped off the wire, falling into the dirt floor of the arena, the orbs separating from their sack, laid there until the bull stomped them during his gyrations, covering them with dirt. Clowns lured the bull away from Tim. His cock was no longer erect.

“Let’s give the boy a hand. He didn’t last long, but, at least, he gave it his all-or at least his balls,” said the announcer, as they carried Tim off on a stretcher.

“Christ, Bob, did you see the kid’s balls pop loose. I’ve got to admit, this is hotter than the bicycle race, ball cam, or no ball cam,” said Al, as he tried to hide the wet spot at the crotch of his pants. He had creamed them when Tim’s balls flew off.

James was crying as they placed him on Earthquake, a large black bull. They attached a wire to his-now-limp cock as well as to his balls.

“Next, out of chute #2, is James Strickland, a 16 year-old. Although James has never ridden a live bull, I’m told that he has tried riding a mechanical one. We’ll see if he can stay on longer than his friend-and lover, Tim,” said the announcer.

“The kid looks scared, Bob.”

“Well, wouldn’t you be scared, Al? The kid will probably lose his cock and his balls within the next few seconds. Look, they’re opening the gate now.”

When Earthquake, coming out of the chute, began bucking, James, who had securely wrapped his hand in the strap that was around the bull’s girth, was thrown up almost to the length of the wire, but managed to stay on-for two seconds-until Earthquake began spinning, throwing James off horizontally, parallel to the ground. When he reached the end of the wire, because he was attached by both his penis and his scrotum, his body was briefly jerked before continuing it’s flight to the ground, where he rolled over several times in the dirt. His penis, and his balls, let go at different times by their wires, flew in other directions. One of the clowns, picking up James’ cock, held it up for the audience to see.”

“Maybe you ought to save that for James’ boyfriend. He likes to suck on it so much; he can use it as a pacifier. Well, this kid did give his all: both his cock and his balls,” commented the announcer.

“That was intense, Al. That was really something. Did you see that wire sling his cock and balls around? Who’s next?”

“Paul Harris, an eighteen year-old for statutory rape of his sixteen year-old girlfriend.”

“Will he lose his cock, too, Al?”

“Yes, he will, Bob. Here in Montana, if you do it with a minor, even if no violence is involved, you lose your cock.”

The bull, Lightning, took Paul’s cock and balls four and one-half seconds into his ride. He made a valiant effort to hang on, but couldn’t, falling into the dirt with blood streaming from his crotch, where he lay until they placed him on a stretcher.

“That’s four down, Al, counting Robbie. Six more to go.”

“You’re right, Bob. We have a twenty-three year-old, who skipped out on his child support payments next. Only his balls are at risk.”

“But, that’s not a sex crime, Al. Why does he lose his balls?”

“He had a kid-didn’t pay for it-so the state had to support it. Montana figures that, if you can’t be responsible for the stuff that comes out of your balls, you don’t deserve to keep them. I’m told that this kid grew up on a ranch. Although he hasn’t ridden bulls, he has ridden horses. Maybe that experience will help.”

It didn’t. He drew Texas Tornado, the meanest bull on the rodeo circuit. No one had ever ridden this bull. He lasted three seconds, though, and was game enough to get up off the ground and walk to the stretcher, after picking his balls up off the ground.

“Well, Al, he won’t be producing anymore welfare babies.”

“That’s for sure, Bob. Good try, though. That was a mean bull.”

“It sure was, Al.”

The next four riders didn’t last, losing both cock and balls. Jim Kimsey, a thirty-three year-old was the last rider. Jim, although he’d never ridden bulls, was a bodybuilder. His chiseled, naked body, drew gasps from the women in the crowd, and from Al, as well.” The nine inch cock, which hung from his groin, as well as his balls, was at risk.

“What a hunk,” said Al. Look at those muscles. He could wrap those legs around me-I mean-he should be able to wrap those legs around the bull and hang on for eight seconds.”

“Yeah, Al. He’s the last rider; and, they’ve saved-for last-the man who is most likely to successfully ride a bull. Did you know that he can bench press over 400 pounds?”

“No, I didn’t, but he looks like he could cold cock that bull, if he slugged it.”

Jim drew Texas Sky, probably the softest draw of the bunch. The bull stood quietly in the chute as he climbed on it. Jim even smiled as they fastened the wires to his cock and to his balls. After he wrapped the strap from the girth around his hand, he signaled that he was ready. The gate opened. The bull practically walked out, then made some perfunctory efforts to buck. The whistle sounded, indicating that the eight seconds had passed. Jim, grinning, unwrapped his hand from the strap. As he did, Texas Sky give one last buck, the best of the entire ride, sending Jim flying high above him. Jim’s cock and balls separated from his body when he reached the end of the wires, which hadn’t come loose from the bull, as they should have. He sat up in the dirt, shocked and confused. The whistle had sounded. He had ridden the bull, yet there he sat-in the dirt with no cock or balls.

“Jesus Christ,” said Al. “What happened, Bob. I heard the whistle. He rode the bull for eight seconds. He shouldn’t have lost his cock and balls.”

“Shit happens, Al.”