The Puppy Ranch Commune part 1 -- the recruitment

Author: spartan
Title: The Puppy Ranch Commune, part 1 -- the recruitment
Date: 26 July 2011

I’d reached rock bottom. I’d just been evicted from my living quarters due to non payment of rent. I was out on the street with no money and with only a few meager possessions -- a few spare clothes, a coat, toothbrush and paste and a razor. My parents had kicked me out of their home when I told them I was gay, and didn‘t want to ever see me again. I came to San Francisco, the Mecca of the gay lifestyle, hoping to find a life here, a new home where I fit in, but with the recession, I couldn’t find work, and my money soon ran out in this expensive city. What do I do now?

It was the day of the Gay Pride parade, but I wasn’t feeling much pride. At least it should be something pleasant to occupy my mind.

I was early getting a position on the parade route. My growling stomach told me that I was soon going to have to deal with getting a meal, probably at one of the shelters that provided free food and shelter for the homeless. Me being homeless. That is going to take some getting used to. I was feeling very despondent. I wondered whether I should join the army and start a military life. I was 18, had a high school degree and no medical problems, and was physically fit, so they should take me.

As I was pondering my future, the parade route started filling up. The general attitude of my neighbors on the route was upbeat, looking forward to the parade. The vibes I was getting started drawing me out of my depression. I figured I may as well enjoy the parade since I wouldn’t be getting much enjoyment out of life in the coming weeks.

Soon the parade began and a series of people started marching, walking and riding motorcycles down the route. Various groups would draw various reactions from the crowd. Then I started hearing some laughter and dog barks from the crowd as a group was approaching.

When this group came into view I was surprised at what I was seeing. At the front was a guy dressed all in black leather holding a sign in one hand and a series of leash chains in the other. The sign read, “The Puppy Ranch”. The leash chains were connected to the collars of 15 more well-built young guys marching in formation behind him, each dressed all in black leather but with a dog’s hood on their head, each with his hands cuffed behind him. The guy in front was issuing the usual marching orders, “Your left, your left, your left your right your left” as they were marching along.

But what surprised me more was that all the leather uniforms were perfectly shaped on the wearers, not a wrinkle was in sight, and they were all polished a high gloss, like a spit shine on shoes. I could understand it on the knee-high boots they were all wearing, but I’d never seen that before on pants or on tunics. Theirs had collars up to their chins with the chains wrapped around like a choker chain. It was a very impressive sight. I was already getting a raging hard-on. But the crowd was more taken by the sight of 15 marching men in dogs’ hoods, and reacted with dog barks.

As the group was marching past, I noticed two guys on each side of the street handing out leaflets to the crowd. One guy was selecting what appeared to be male studs to hand his red leaflet to, which were more numerous than the people the other guy was handing leaflets to. The other guy seemed to be searching the crowd for what looked to be young, single boys to hand his blue one to. I got one of those blue leaflets.

After the group passed by, I started reading it. It said, “Down on your luck? Looking for a life of gay sex and bondage, but can’t afford the expensive life in San Fran? Join the Puppy Ranch Commune! We provide free room and board in exchange for you servicing our clients, which usually just entails a few hours a week (after you finish your basic training). As part of your work you will be fitted for and issued one of these neat leather uniforms. Just follow the group to our bus and join us!”

This was like the answer to my problems! The obvious military discipline didn’t bother me since I was raised in a fundamentalist Christian home with harsh discipline and punishment, and besides I was hardly in a position to be picky. I figured as a young gay man this sounded better than the alternatives of either living on the street or joining the army and facing who knew what, so I had better quickly take advantage of the opportunity while it was available. I picked up my meager belongings and quickly hurried after the group.

When I got to the bus the marching men were already being loaded into it. The bus windows were blacked out so you couldn’t see inside. There were two guys outside the bus who were looking for guys holding a leaflet, one for the red ones and one for the blue. Since I was holding a blue one, that guy approached me. I told him I wanted to join. He told me that since this was a commune, that I would be forfeiting all my belongings to it. I said that this was no problem since I only had the few belongings in the bag I was carrying.

Then the guy asked me about my health, whether I had any health issues, primarily dealing with sexual diseases. I told him I was in good health, no problems, and that I hadn’t even had the opportunity yet to possibly contract any sexual diseases. With that answer he got a wry smile, and told me there would be a more thorough medical exam to verify this when we arrived at the commune. Then he asked if I liked to be put into bondage. I told him I’d always been turned on by self-bondage, but I hadn’t had the opportunity yet for someone else to put me in bondage.

Then he gave me a form to sign. The form said that I was of my own free will joining this commune, that I signed over all my worldly possessions to it, and that I had been told and understood its purpose. I started to sign when I noticed that the signature had to be witnessed by a notary. When I mentioned this to the guy, he said the guy behind him was a notary and could fill out that necessary part, so I signed the form, gave the notary my id, and signed the book the notary gave me at the place indicated.

Then I was given a will to sign which named the commune as my heir. The necessary signatures and form filling was completed on this, too.

With that, the guy told me to turn around with my hands behind my back, palm-to-palm. When I did so, he screwed on a pair of darby cuffs like the kind the marchers had on. These were pretty strict, keeping my arms straight down and from bending lest I hurt my wrists, and forcing my elbows closer together. Already my penis was starting to get hard. The guy noticed this and again got a wry smile and nodded his head. He escorted me up into the bus, carrying the bag with my possessions. After we passed through the door behind the driver’s seat, the sight that greeted me was again surprising and served to get my hard-on going more.

Each marcher was sitting erect on a seat, but without his leather pants. Each had his cock and balls in chastity. The bus seats were higher than the normal, and each man had a leather hood with nose holes only tied to his head which was locked in a couple of places to the top of the headrest at the back of the seat to force his head high and locked in place against the headrest. His ankles were locked into cuffs that were attached to the bus, and his knees, as well as his stomach and elbows also had locks around to keep him secure in his seat. His wrists were still cuffed behind him.

As I got to the back of the bus, the last marcher was being placed on his seat. Before he was sat down the dog’s head was removed and I noticed that he already had what looked like a leather penis gag strapped on which he’d been wearing, and which was kept on while the leather hood was put over his head. The leather pants which had been removed were stacked in the back of the bus. The pants were quite stiff, as if they had been soaked in something to prevent their wrinkling. The dog’s hood and boots were also placed in the back.

I was treated as the marchers were, but without the tunic and the chastity. First I had a leather penis gag strapped on. Then the leather hood was placed over my head, tied in the back and buckled on. A padlock was put on the buckle to secure it. Then I was put into the seat with my ankles and knees, plus my stomach and elbows, locked into place. Finally a leather posture collar was placed around my neck which was locked in two places tightly up to the top of the headrest. I couldn’t move my head an inch and had trouble swallowing.

There would be a wait for others to respond to the leaflets. I’d noticed that the bus had a Nevada license plate, so I figured it was going to be a long ride. My arms and neck were starting to hurt, and my empty stomach was demanding food, but I was in no position to complain, so I just had to accept it. Firmly in place, I now sat with my dick sticking straight up, tenting my pants, waiting for my new life to begin.

(to be continued)

Note -- in real life a commercial enterprise such as this would not be given permission to be in the San Francisco Gay Pride parade.