## Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by snobound » Sat Sep 25, 2010 5:51 pm

Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat
It was mid-March. One of those precious waning days of the ski season when brisk mornings in the teens and twenties give way to the upper forties or even better by afternoon. The mountain had closed at 4:30, though here it was an hour later and I was just beginning what would be my last run of the day. The ever-increasing sun angle providing just enough diffuse light to make out the contours of the moguls below the summit.
I had begun the day bundled against a stiff north wind, but had stripped down to as far as my T-shirt by this point. There's nothing worse than soaking yourself while taking a digger into a slushy puddle, so I had opted to remain in my Spyder ski pants, though wore nothing beneath them but boxers. Now, with the sun beginning to set, I was starting to regret leaving the rest of my gear in the lift house at the base.
It certainly was nice of Anthony to allow me to use the little heated structure for pit stops. I would often stash gear there instead of making the trek to the lodge, exactly as I had on this particular day. It was also a great place to put my feet up between runs, watch tentative flatlanders board the lifts, and even enjoy a nip or tug or two on some locally grown product- hey, it is Vermont!
By befriending Anthony, I practically had the run of the place. Hell, I shouldn't have blown money on a damn season pass! It was a pretty sweet deal... and there were other, even more fortuitous benefits. Anthony got off on tying guys up, and that meant that Anthony was my kind of guy.
We certainly hadn't stumbled across each other by accident. I had been living in an unoccupied slope-side condo owned by my parents (please don't hate me), and was having absolutely no luck finding like-minded TUG partners. This is why I joined that site. One that catered to guys looking for bondage hook ups. I was disappointed to find that members in my sparsely populated area were few and far between. There was, however, one profile that made my heart race.
He was hot. Simple as that. Just under six feet tall, and a well-toned 165 pounds, with unkempt dirty blond hair and blue eyes. He was twenty-four at the time- a few years older than me. His extensive photo gallery, as well as the detailed written descriptions of his bondage likes and interests, had made contacting Anthony a no-brainer. I clicked the messaging tab, only to see that he had beaten me to the punch.
Anthony's message read: "You would look hot all tied up. Wanna hook up?"
Yeah, I wanted to hook up! Oh my god, yeah! It had been months since I had been tied by the hand of another. I responded in the affirmative, and had an answer that very night! We met up for the first time that same weekend, and had hit it off right from the start. I spent the lion's share of the next fourteen hours in bondage bliss.
That had been in November, though now, barely more than three months later, hardly a day went by when the two of us didn't hang out. More often than not, I was getting tied up- he said he couldn't resist. He had also said that he'd never been with anyone who craved bondage more than me. I, of course, knew this already. Anthony would drop in after work and begin tying me without pretense or conversation, much like how an old friend might grab a beer from your fridge without pause or permission.
These fond memories brought a grin to my face as I glided over the slushy slop at the lower reaches of the trail. The terrain leveled out, and I used my poles to maintain enough momentum to reach the claustrophobic little lift house. The lifts had already been shut down, though another mountain employee was standing on a ladder doing routine maintenance on the high-speed detachable quad. We too were on a first name basis.
"Hey Sean, have you seen Anthony?
"Na, Hunter. Not since closing," responded the ski area equivalent of a grease monkey. He seemed to be fighting back a smirk.
"You're a terrible liar," I laughed.
"Whatever you say, dude. He did mention that he was bringing your coat and shit to the maintenance garage."
My eyes flicked toward the dark hut where I had left my coat, mitts, balaclava, goggles and helmet. "For fuck sake, why?" I asked, though I immediately knew the answer.
"Hunter, how the hell should I know?" he called after me. I had already begun skating toward the hulking metal building in the distance. Anyone that has been skiing knows that skating uphill blows. A significant portion of the nearly quarter mile distance was uphill, and I was no longer wishing for my coat upon reaching the building. The total silence struck me as odd, though that was only because the mechanics had gone home, ceasing their welding, grinding, and hammer falls. The building's three overhead doors were all shut, so I released my boots from the bindings and entered through the human-sized entry at the front.
The lights were on. I spotted my helmet... then my goggles. All of my missing gear, in fact, was sitting on a long workbench against the corrugated metal wall- next to numerous coils of the very same rope that had left me contently immobilized on numerous occasions. A door to the cab of a very large Bombardier snow cat swung open without warning. I jumped in fright, emitting a little squeak that I immediately regretted.
Anthony shook his head incredulously from the driver's seat of the groomer. "You're such a little girl!" He was laughing, of course. He tossed a thick, black rectangular slab onto the garage floor before climbing from the glorified snow plow. I glanced at it, questioningly.
"The backrest to the seat," he answered, gesturing back toward the snow cat's cab. He stared, studying me for a moment, as if trying to make a difficult decision. The silence seemed to last an eternity, though I continued to return his piercing stare. Finally, Anthony spoke.
"I had plans for you tonight, plans that were in the making all damn week! Plans that I haven't been able to take my mind off of all freaking day!"
"So, what's the problem?" I asked excitedly. My heart was all aflutter. Anthony knew just how to scratch my persistent bondage itch, and I felt a fresh twinge coming on.
"One of my god damn groomer operators just called in sick, THAT'S the problem."
"Oh." I completely understood his obvious disappointment. Anthony looked forward to tying me up as much as I yearned to be tied. We were the perfect yin and yang.
"I nearly fired the douche. Even on the phone I could tell he was three sheets to the wind. I was so pissed that I punched a hole in the drywall of the garage office, but that doesn't change the fact that I've got to spend the night mowing the fucking lawn." "Mowing the lawn" was mountain-speak for the monotonous chore of trail grooming.
"That really sucks, man." I was crestfallen. I sincerely wished that Anthony hadn't said anything about his "plans".
"Well, yes and no," he replied. I was intrigued. "My original plans will have to wait, but that doesn't mean the night has to go to waste."
"Oh?" I was confused.
"Yeah, you're coming with me."
"Huh?"
"Yup, in the snow cat!" Anthony grinned.
"Okay, but last I checked these things aren't exactly two-seaters," I reasoned.
"Let me worry about that," said Anthony, glancing again at the back rest he had thrown from the cab. He looked back at me. "Lose those ski boots. You're going to be in there for the whole shift."
"The whole shift?" I asked.
"The whole shift." The devious grin I had come to love flicked across Anthony's face. "Lose the shirt, too." I complied. Anthony began retrieving the coils of rope assembled on the workbench.
Already aroused, I stood before Anthony in my ski socks and pants, with its thick black suspenders passing across my shirtless torso. "Put your mitts on," he commanded.
"My mitts?"
"Your mitts! Dude, did you smoke a joint or something earlier?" By his look I could tell that Anthony already knew the answer. I donned the Burton mitts. They were going to be damn sweaty, I thought, in the heated cab of the groomer.
Anthony approached me with a number of short lengths of soft, red rope draped over his shoulders. I braced my arms behind my back out of sheer habit. "Nope," Anthony said, grabbing a mitt-clad wrist. In order to keep out snow, the blue and black Burton mitts had been made to extend a few inches up the wearer's forearm.
"Make a fist," Anthony directed. I did as I was told. Once ropes are applied to my body, I could be persuaded to do just about anything. Anthony snugged the mitt around my clenched fist, then wrapped my wrist two or three times before tying this thick band of rope off in a square knot. Roughly three feet of rope was left dangling from the knot. The same was done to my other wrist. Anthony also tied ropes around each arm, just below my biceps, leaving trailing tails for later use.
I was enjoying the sight and sensation of the thick red ropes encircling my wrists and arms. "You're going to tie me up inside the groomer?" I asked.
"I'm gonna tie you so that you're PART of the groomer!" Anthony laughed, smacking the hard-on beneath my pants with the palm of his hand.
"Huh?" I was thoroughly confused.
"You'll see." Anthony gave the bulge in the front of my ski pants a tight squeeze as he knelt down in front of me. He tied ropes around my ankles, over the fabric of both my thick ski socks and waterproof pants. Anthony wrapped more ropes around each knee, encircling them three or four times before knotting the ropes tightly. Hanging from each knot was a few feet of unused rope.
I stood there in the middle of the maintenance garage, giddy with anticipation, as Anthony made a quick trip to the workbench for one additional length of rope. This coil was longer- maybe twenty feet. Its entire length was wrapped around me until a considerable belt of soft, red cotton rope encircled my waist. "That'll do!" he said, winking at me as he tied the two ends off over my navel.
Anthony left my side and walked toward the snow cat. Upon reaching the open door, he turned and slapped his thigh- twice. "Come on, boy! Wanna go for a ride?" he called, jokingly.
"Arf!" I responded, moving toward Anthony eagerly; numerous tails of rope dragging behind me.
"Come on, UP!" commanded Anthony, continuing the joke. I stepped onto the snow cat's tread and peered into the inside of its cab. These indispensable machines were a fixture at any ski area, though I had hardly ever given them a second thought. This particular model was state of the art, and nearly brand new. It was almost luxurious- heated cab, satellite radio, a cushy bucket seat for the operator (sans backrest as a result of Anthony's modification).
These features were impressive, though my attention was drawn to the heavy steel roll cage that lined the interior of the cab. Though designed to tackle slopes as steep as sixty degrees, a wrong turn during a white-out could quickly result in disaster. With the operator securely strapped into the seat, this cage could make a roll-over survivable. I also realized, with growing excitement, that I would soon be tied to this array of steel tubing.
"Do ya need an invitation? Get in," said Anthony, giving me a push from behind. I sat on the backless bucket seat. Anthony climbed onto the tread, and I was gratified to see that he too had an excited glint in his eyes. I came to the sudden realizaton that this would be a night to remember.
Anthony put the palms of his hands on my suspendered, bare chest, pushing my butt off the back of the seat. He had piled a bunch of ski coats and pants, probably from the lost and found, against the sides and back of the seat, effectively creating a large, level, cushioned area in the rear half of the cab. I now sat atop the pile of coats with my back almost up against the rear window. Above me and to each side lay the bars of the snow cat's roll cage.
Anthony joined me in the cramped cab. He knelt on the seat facing me, and immediately reached for my right arm. "We've got to get going. That radio's going to start lighting up like a Christmas tree If we're not out on the mountain in fifteen minutes," Anthony said with urgency, gesturing toward the glowing readout on a black box mounted to the roof of the cab.
He positioned my arm against the vertical steel upright to my immediate right. Anthony began wrapping the rope dangling from my wrist around both the tubing and the base of my mitt. The remaining eight or ten inches were threaded between my bound wrist and the pole. He used this last bit to cinch any remaining slack from the rope encircling both my wrist and the steel tubing. My left wrist was soon bound as well, in the exact same manner as the first. The cinching of the rope immobilizing my second wrist elicited one of my trademark moans of contentment that Anthony loved so much.
Anthony unsnapped and then pulled the zipper of my blue Spyder ski pants down a few inches. I was already poking out from behind my boxers- the only article of clothing worn beneath the pants. "You're such a slut! I haven't even gotten your arms tied down and you're already drifting into that 'bondage stupor' of yours," laughed Anthony, incredulously, as he reached for the rope hanging from my left elbow. I could only smile in response. He encircled both my arm and the roll cage, though at a position about a foot below where my wrist was bound. The last inches of this rope were cinched between my arm and the upright as well.
I was breathing heavily and testing the effectiveness of Anthony's ropework by the time my second elbow was trussed against the opposing upright in exactly the same manner. I NEVER got out of Anthony's ties, but always enjoyed the struggle nonetheless. Anthony repositioned the black suspenders so as not to cover my bare nips. He smartly flicked each in quick succession, followed by a pair of painful twists. I groaned in protest, though this only prompted Anthony to repeat his first barrage- only with greater enthusiasm.
"Ahhhh. Stop that, Ant!"
"Make me!" he spat, flicking both nips simultaneously. I, however, wasn't completely helpless- Anthony had yet to bind my legs. Since he was already kneeling only inches in front of me, it took little effort to wrap my legs around the backs of his thighs. Daily Nordic and downhill skiing had strengthened my legs considerably, and with them I applied a tight bear hug that thrust Anthony against my chest. We actually wound up head-butting each other as well. Anthony tried to pull himself away, though I had managed to cross my ankles, locking his body against mine.
Anthony, unfortunately, was keenly aware of my many weaknesses. Though I had managed to immobilize his torso, Anthony still had complete control of his deviously effective fingers. He began at my sides, then moved to my pits- exposed and helpless as a result my arms being bound tightly to the sides of the cab. I laughed uncontrollably, thrashing and bucking the whole time. I also felt that Anthony was enjoying himself every bit as much as I was.
He tickled me mercilessly for a full two minutes, though Anthony soon saw that this torture only caused me to clamp down on him harder with my legs. He finally gave up on tickling me. However, before my uncontrollable laughing could even begin to subside, Anthony had clapped the palm of one hand over my mouth. He clamped my nostrils shut with the fingers of his other hand. I made a feeble attempt at flailing around enough to dislodge his grasp, though Anthony had won this battle. I released the iron grip of my legs in desperation.
Anthony removed his hands from my mouth and nose in response, but wasted no time in bracing one of my legs against the wall of the cab with his heavy boot. I slumped back against the rear window, catching my breath. Taking advantage of my momentary inactivity, Anthony rapidly tied my left knee to a horizontal segment of the roll cage that ran parallel to the wall of the cab, just below the open door. Anthony took up every bit of slack after looping the rope around the steel tubing. He encircled both my leg and the bar a number of times before cinching this loop off like the others. My left ankle was tied identically to the same cross member as my leg- only further toward the front of the cab.
With one leg immobilized, Anthony began work on the second. When finished, he sat down onto the backs of his legs, admiring his handiwork. I was already approaching a state of euphoria when Anthony placed his hands on my shoulders for support. He then lodged one knee between my splayed legs, against my crotch. I took advantage of this opportunity, grinding my concealed hard-on into Anthony's leg. I moaned in response, pulling against the ropes anchoring my body to the roll cage at eight different points along my limbs. Anthony removed his knee after only a few minutes, not wanting me to taint the interior of the new cat, but also because we needed to get out onto the trails before the mountain operations manager started to wonder why he was down one groomer.
"Uggg, get your ass back here!" I moaned as he exited the cab. I was still humping the air with my midsection.
"You've got all night for that!" Anthony called from across the garage. "I've got to finish up and get us moving."
"Won't it be stupid obvious that I'm tied up in the back of a groomer?" I asked, half-shouting to be heard outside the well-insulated cab. No answer.
Anthony returned a minute or two later, picking up the conversation as if there had been no pause. "Obvious to whom? We'll be the only ones on Bear. The other operators will be on different summits. It's pointless to blow snow this late in the season, so the snowmaking operation has already been shut down. It's just you, me, and the Bombardier," he gave the side of the snow cat's cab an affectionate pat as he said this.
Satisfied with the logic of Anthony's explanation, I was busy enjoying the completeness of my immobilization when I felt him tugging at the thick band of red rope wrapped around my waist. Anthony had doubled up a ten foot length of rope, and was threading one end around the ropes encircling my waist. He tied the center of this rope to the thick red band, leaving two five foot lengths hanging from my side. He climbed back into the cab with an identical length of rope coiled in his hand.
Again, he braced his knee against my crotch, granting me the friction point I desired so badly in order to quell my bondage-induced horniness. Anthony reached out with both hands, flicking my nips as he had before, though this time my legs were immobilized and I was defenseless.
I continued humping Anthony's leg pathetically as he ceased tormenting my tender nips so that he could knot this last rope around the opposite side of the thick waist belt. I had nearly worked myself into a panting frenzy as Anthony began trussing my waist to the same steel tube to which my wrists and arms were bound. There were two tails of doubled rope dangling from each side of the belt. Anthony tied one length off high on the vertical segment of the roll cage, near where my arm had been bound. The other end was wrapped around the horizontal bar to which my legs and ankles were tied.
Anthony had cinched both of these ropes down tightly before knotting them. My ability to grind into his thigh was greatly diminished by the time he had begun cinching the second rope affixed to the opposite side of the belt. Anthony withdrew his leg from my crotch the very moment he bore down on the final knot. I moaned again in protest, then hung my head. "You fucking tease!" I whined. He laughed deeply.
I was busy examining the newly applied ropes anchoring my torso to either side of the cab's roll cage, and was only half-aware of the fact that Anthony was standing on the snow cat's tread, just outside the open door. He had removed his shirt, just as he'd instructed me to do earlier. He was still wearing the heavily pocketed black ski pants that were standard issue for many of the resort's employees, as well as his own thick ski socks and heavy black work boots. He lifted a backpack from the surface of the rubbery tread and slid onto the seat in front of me.
Anthony sat, nestled snugly between my splayed legs, which would, as it turned out, serve as ideal armrests for the operator. The contoured seatback had been replaced with my chest and abs, and Anthony leaned into me with a contented sigh. Then he giggled. "This is awesome!" he laughed, craning his neck to glance at my face. I was utterly speechless. This WAS awesome! I wondered if he was actually planning to keep me bound in this manner for the entire eight hour shift.
Anthony produced a key from one of the multitude of pockets of his ski pants and inserted it into the ignition. I heard the electric hum of the cat's glow plugs powering up. The Bombardier's throaty diesel engine sprang to life not more than twenty seconds later. The vibrations it produced shook the roll cage and then the ropes, resulting in an unfamiliar, though pleasurable, trembling sensation throughout my helplessly bound body.
"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. Safety first!" laughed Anthony.
"Huh?" I asked stupidly. He was still laughing. I heard the backpack being unzipped, followed by the familiar clanking of buckling hardware. Anthony turned toward me with a long, thick, tan leather bondage strap in his hand- it must have been seven feet long, with double-pronged locking buckles. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, Anthony fed the belt behind my back. Facing forward again, Anthony grabbed both ends of the belt, encircling his own torso as well as mine. He fed the tail end of the strap into the buckle and wrenched it down, hard, across his toned stomach. I moaned and Anthony grunted as he guided the twin prongs into their slots.
I immediately began grinding against Anthony's back, grateful for the meager amount of motion the dozens of feet of thick rope would allow. Anthony was fumbling around with something else from the backpack. Was that more clanking? I felt another wide leather strap being looped around my left thigh. It went suddenly taut- Anthony had buckled my leg to his own. I continued to thrust against my captor, kissing his neck and shoulders, as Anthony secured the last strap around both of our right thighs.
Anthony reached up, grabbing hold of my bound arms above and in back of his head. He simultaneously flexed his abdominals and tested the strength of the straps binding our thighs together. I was pulled even tighter against his body in response, increasing the friction against my steady hard-on.
Though I hadn't noticed amid my sensory overload, Anthony had pressed a small button clipped to the roll cage above his head. A gaping hole opened in the wall, and Anthony drove the snow cat and it's perverse cargo out into the cold night air. My ankles were trussed to the roll cage beside each of Anthony's knees. We hadn't traveled more than a few hundred feet before he'd decided to attack the sensitive soles of my socked feet. So as not to neglect either foot, Anthony alternated between tickling with one hand and driving with the other. I shrieked hysterically as Anthony engaged the rear blade of the groomer.
For our first pass, Anthony positioned the groomer in the center of a broad trail. The cat began producing the distinct corduroy pattern enjoyed by early morning skiers and riders as Anthony reached up with both hands to torture my exposed armpits. I bit into his bare shoulder, though Anthony showed me no mercy.
"You like?" Anthony asked, with no break in the ceaseless torture.
"Your.... sick..in the.... head!" I replied between gasps.
"Maybe, but no more so than you, Hunter!" The snow cat angled sharply upward as we began our first ascent to the summit. The tension on my limbs increased as Anthony allowed my torso to take the full weight of his body. I bucked ferociously against Anthony's back as he moved his fingers between my feet and pits unpredictably.
As only tracked vehicles can, the Bombardier turned on a dime at the summit and began its descent back to the base. Now it was Anthony who seemed to be supporting MY weight. I closed my eyes as I thrust myself into him in a final barrage of exertion. Finally, mercifully, I moaned with pleasure as a sticky warmth spread between my abs and the snow pants.
"You dirty little pig!" Anthony scolded, though it was my turn to laugh. I rested my chin on Anthony's shoulder, catching my breath.
Anthony fumbled in one of his many pockets, then sparked up some more homegrown product. Hey, the night was still young, and it IS Vermont!
Last edited by snobound on Thu Sep 30, 2010 6:49 pm, edited 4 times in total.
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### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by xtc » Sun Sep 26, 2010 2:19 am

A pleasuree to read, thank you.
xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by Daniel_se » Sun Sep 26, 2010 3:43 am

As I am a ski boy from scandinavia this is one of the best stories I've read in this forum:) I loved it!

### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by sarumansauron » Mon Sep 27, 2010 9:52 am

Very good! Thanks!
I love TUGS and TICKLING Torture!!!!!

### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by canuck100 » Mon Sep 27, 2010 11:00 am

I won't look at these Snow Cats the same way from now on! Had I known that these kinds of activities happened at ski hills in Vermont, I'd have gone snowboarding south more often (I live not too far from the northern border of Vermont...).
Great story!

### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by snobound » Tue Sep 28, 2010 12:17 pm

> canuck100 wrote:I won't look at these Snow Cats the same way from now on! Had I known that these kinds of activities happened at ski hills in Vermont, I'd have gone snowboarding south more often (I live not too far from the northern border of Vermont...).
> Great story!

Thanks, Canuck! So, you live in the Townships, eh? I used to love going to Sherbrooke after turning 18 for the thrill of bar hopping before the age of 21. Coming back across the border was always an experience. Now that we need a damn passport, I go to QC far less often- it's a shame, actually.
Living close to the border, I'd imagine you've spent some time at Jay Peak. The few times I've been there, it seemed that there were more Canadians than Americans. However, you have Tremblant (awesome ski area), which most of us south of the border don't even know exists.
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### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by canuck100 » Tue Sep 28, 2010 8:21 pm

> snobound wrote:

> > canuck100 wrote:I won't look at these Snow Cats the same way from now on! Had I known that these kinds of activities happened at ski hills in Vermont, I'd have gone snowboarding south more often (I live not too far from the northern border of Vermont...).
> > Great story!

> Thanks, Canuck! So, you live in the Townships, eh? I used to love going to Sherbrooke after turning 18 for the thrill of bar hopping before the age of 21. Coming back across the border was always an experience. Now that we need a damn passport, I go to QC far less often- it's a shame, actually.
> Living close to the border, I'd imagine you've spent some time at Jay Peak. The few times I've been there, it seemed that there were more Canadians than Americans. However, you have Tremblant (awesome ski area), which most of us south of the border don't even know exists.

Hehe, I see you know your Quebec geography! I live in Montreal but I spent many winters at my parents' cottage in the Eastern Townships. And I did spend some time at Jay Peak - a couple of times every year - and yes, a lot of the licence plates in the parking lot were from Quebec and French was widely spoken everywhere. Not surprising as it is so close to the USA/Canada border.
Did any of your stories happen in Jay Peak or in Sherbrooke? This would be interesting to read...

### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by snobound » Wed Sep 29, 2010 3:41 pm

> canuck100 wrote:

> > snobound wrote:

> > > canuck100 wrote:I won't look at these Snow Cats the same way from now on! Had I known that these kinds of activities happened at ski hills in Vermont, I'd have gone snowboarding south more often (I live not too far from the northern border of Vermont...).
> > > Great story!

> > Thanks, Canuck! So, you live in the Townships, eh? I used to love going to Sherbrooke after turning 18 for the thrill of bar hopping before the age of 21. Coming back across the border was always an experience. Now that we need a damn passport, I go to QC far less often- it's a shame, actually.
> > Living close to the border, I'd imagine you've spent some time at Jay Peak. The few times I've been there, it seemed that there were more Canadians than Americans. However, you have Tremblant (awesome ski area), which most of us south of the border don't even know exists.

> Hehe, I see you know your Quebec geography! I live in Montreal but I spent many winters at my parents' cottage in the Eastern Townships. And I did spend some time at Jay Peak - a couple of times every year - and yes, a lot of the licence plates in the parking lot were from Quebec and French was widely spoken everywhere. Not surprising as it is so close to the USA/Canada border.
> Did any of your stories happen in Jay Peak or in Sherbrooke? This would be interesting to read...

Yeah- I know Quebec quite well. My college roomate was from Montreal, and he dragged me all over during breaks. I've been as far north as the massive hyroelectric complex on the Eastmain River, and nearly to the tip of the Gaspe. It's spectacularly beautiful, but the winters make Vermont seem more like Virginia.
Much of my time spent in Sherbrooke is nothing more than a boozy blur. I once had to come back across the border curled up in a foetal position in the back of a ford explorer's cargo area after puking my guts out. The border agents harassed us for a half hour as I dry heaved out the back lift gate- not a pretty picture. All my ski area tugs occurred at Killington- the "beast of the east"!
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### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by xtc » Wed Sep 29, 2010 4:38 pm

Hey Guys,
Do you have to copy the whole back catalogue whenever you reply?
Seriously though, Snobound, I'm bloody glad that, at 01:40 local time, you didn't post another of your superb stories or I would have been compelled to stay up and read it.
Wassai!
xtc
Boxer shorts are cool,
but little speedos rule!
More by the same author: viewtopic.php?f=5&t=22729

### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by Cowboy » Fri Oct 07, 2011 9:16 pm

anymore?

### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by xtc » Sat Oct 08, 2011 12:46 am

Snobound hasn't visited since July 6th. I know he was feeling conflicted around that time and It was no surprise that he withdrew.
A shame, I miss his contributions and sincerely hope that he's happier with his situation.

### Re: Heavy (equipment) Bondage -or- A Night in the Snow Cat

Post by Chase Ricks » Sat Oct 08, 2011 12:49 am

Too bad. I actually liked him a lot and was even on his friendslist here. If he ever returns, I hope he has more new stories or continues writing good series here.