Rancho Diablo

by Michael O'Connor

  “Quality costs,” Troy retorted. “If you can find another set of equally beautiful eighteen year old twins at a lower price, I’d advise you to take them. I won’t have to wait long for someone prepared to pay my price.”

  “I didn’t say they were out of my price range,” the other man interrupted. “Provided they meet with my exacting requirements, I’ll be glad to pay what you’re asking. I’d like to pay a visit to your ranch, this weekend. Where this kind of money is involved, I prefer to do business in person.”

  “You’ll be warmly welcomed,” Troy assured him.

  A visit from a client such as the Pirate, with a small fortune at his disposal, was the equivalent of a State visit, at Rancho Diablo.

  He arrived by helicopter on Saturday afternoon, a powerfully built dark haired man, with a black patch over his left eye. His hard chiselled, scarred features bore testament to a life lived in the fast lane. Troy had sold slaves to him before, but all transactions had been handled by a third party. Judging from his expensive silk suit and the trio of dark suited men in sunglasses that accompanied him, he guessed that the Pirate was some kind of jet setting criminal. Not that his profession concerned Troy. All that mattered to him were the contents of the briefcase chained to the wrist of one of his men.

  Beyond the barbed wire of the corral, the naked slaves cowered fearfully. Any visitors to the ranch were greeted with similar apprehension, because they could only be slave traders. The slaves had no idea what happened to those members of the herd that were sold, but they knew they were unlikely to meet with an enviable fate.

  “Are the twins among that lot?” the Pirate demanded, once the pleasantries had been dispensed with.

  “They’re waiting in the guest quarters,” Troy replied. “I thought you might want to see them straight away.” He beckoned to a pair of waiting slaves, who scurried eagerly forward, to kneel at his feet. “Take these gentlemen’s luggage to the guest quarters. On the double!”

  Taking the heavy bags from the men, they staggered towards the house, hurried on their way by a flick of Troy’s whip across their buttocks.

  “You have them well trained,” the Pirate observed.

  “Treat them like shit and they’ll treat you like God,” said Troy.

  “A sound philosophy,” his guest agreed. “You must give me a tour of the place, later. Right now, I can’t wait to check out the two most prized members of your herd.”

  In the huge and sparsely furnished main guest bedroom, Jenna and Zoe hung side by side. Their arms were raised high, ropes from the rafters knotted around their wrists. They were blindfolded with strips of black rubber and gagged with red rubber balls, strapped around their heads. The luggage bearing slaves deposited their cargo at the foot of the bed, then knelt with heads bowed, awaiting further instructions from their Masters. They spared the twins only a fleeting glance. Sympathy for their sisters was an emotion slaves could not afford to indulge in.

  “Your room and slaves,” Troy announced, ushering the Pirate into the big room. “Your men will be accommodated across the corridor.”

  “Jake stays with me,” he said brusquely, nodding towards the man with the briefcase.

  The slaves took the bags belonging to the other two men and escorted them to their rooms.

  “Use those girls as you see fit,” Troy told them. “If they’re not to your liking, feel free to pick whatever you want from the corral.”

  “I’d like a little time to inspect the twins,” the Pirate told him.

  “By all means,” said Troy. “Anything you need, just give me a call.”

  The Pirate waited until the door was shut, then turned to his companion.

  “What do you think of these two?”

  “Top quality,” Jake replied. “From what I’ve seen here, you could buy your entire crew.”

  “It’s a thought,” the Pirate mused. “They do seem very well trained. Let’s take a closer look at these two babies.”

  The twins trembled, as rough hands roamed over their bodies and fingers probed their most intimate places. While Jake unlocked the handcuffs on his wrist and placed his briefcase on the bed, the Pirate removed the gag from Jenna’s mouth.

  “Tell me your name, slave girl,” he demanded.

  “Jenna, Sir,” she replied.

  “And your sister’s name?”

  “Zoe, Sir.”

  “How does your Master treat his two prize slaves?”

  “He treats us fairly, Sir.”

  The Pirate laughed harshly. “You are a well trained little bitch! I’m going to take off your blindfold now and release you from these ropes. Then, you are going to do something for me.”

  “What, Sir?”

  He smacked her bottom, leaving behind a glowing palm print. “Anything I damn well tell you. A good slave should know that.”

  He freed Jenna from her bondage and directed her to kneel before her sister. She managed only a brief look at the two men, but the scarred face of the Pirate was enough to bring a knot of fear to her belly.

  “Suck her pussy,” he commanded, taking a cat o’ nine tails from the wall.

  Nudging Zoe’s thighs apart, Jenna eagerly ran her tongue over the puckering folds of her shaven slit. No matter what he did to her afterwards, she would be grateful to the one eyed Master for permitting her this supreme pleasure. In the darker hours of her captivity, chained in her stall, with the coarse straw bedding pricking her flesh, she had wondered if she might never again taste her beloved twin. Being separated from Zoe and knowing nothing of her fate had been the greatest torment any Master could conceive.

  She parted her sister’s moist petals with her fingers and worked her tongue up inside. Her clitoris swelled against the tip of her tongue, her juices warm and welcoming.

  “Raise your ass,” the Pirate told her.

  Jenna complied, steeling herself for a punishment that would take the edge off her enjoyment of Zoe. The cat o’ nine tails swished across her buttocks, the polished wooden balls on the end of each leather strip biting viciously.

  Zoe heard the crack of the whip and felt her sister’s fingernails digging into her thighs, her body jerking in response to each lash. She knew she should not be enjoying what Jenna was doing, under these circumstances, but her body reacted with a treacherous passion. Her sister’s loving tongue was a welcome treat for a pussy that had been brutalised in a fortnight of service to Troy.

  The Pirate thrashed Jenna’s buttocks, until both were fiery red and throbbing fiercely. She wanted to cry out, but choked the sound in the delicious morass of Zoe’s pussy. The hanging twin threw back her head, as the waves of an intense climax washed over her. The Pirate abruptly dragged Jenna away and pushed her face down against the wooden floor. Jake grabbed both ankles and drew her up to meet his waiting cock.

  He briefly pondered her orifices, trying to decide on front or rear. The slick gash between her thighs proved too mouth-watering to resist. He impaled her on his long shaft, while the Pirate pressed down on the back of her neck with his right boot.

  Jake spent his passion within minutes, dropped Jenna to the floor and zipped up his trousers, as though he had just finished a piss.

  “Tight pussy,” he grunted, lighting a cheroot. “Not trying it for size, boss?”

  “I’ll fuck them both later,” the Pirate replied. “String this bitch back up. I’m taking a tour of the ranch. If that slaver is taking a hundred grand of my money, I intend to enjoy his hospitality. Keep an eye on these two, while I’m gone. From now on, nobody fucks them without my permission.”

  Outside the corral, two carriages were prepared, to transport Troy and his guest on their tour. Two of his strongest slaves were harnessed between the twin wooden shafts of each iron wheeled chariot.

  “Nice horses,” said the Pirate.

  �
��Choose your carriage,” Troy invited, handing him a riding whip.

  The two men sat back in the cushioned seats of their chariots and cracked their whips across the flanks of their “horses”. Biting down on the bits between their teeth, the women began walking, straining under the weight of their carriages.

  “I trust my star slaves impressed you,” said Troy.

  “They’re a prime pair of sluts,” the Pirate replied. “Just what I’m looking for, in fact. Do you have to drug any of your slaves, to keep them compliant?”

  Troy shook his head. “At Rancho Diablo, we use only traditional methods. There isn’t a woman or girl alive that can’t be whipped and tortured into total submission. Believe me, I know.”

  “You obviously take great pleasure in your work,” said the Pirate, spurring his two slaves to a trot, with several well aimed strokes of the whip. “How do you deal with escapees?”

  Troy explained in detail, while the sweating and panting slaves dragged them towards the cross on the hill.

  “I’d certainly love to see a crucifixion,” the Pirate said, licking his lips.

  “One can be easily arranged,” Troy replied. “However, I’ve arranged something for this evening that I think you’ll find equally entertaining.”

  By the time the tour of the ranch was concluded, both pairs of “horses” were close to collapse. Two hooded Masters took them away, to be unharnessed and watered. Troy showed his guest to the corral and invited him to choose a couple of slaves, for the evenings entertainment. The Pirate had decided to spare Jenna and Zoe for the voyage. The slaves were lined up and he inspected each in turn, before selecting a boyishly slender young brunette and the body pierced blonde who had arrived with the twins.

  “What exactly do you have in mind for those two?” the Pirate enquired, as the chosen slaves were led away to the barn.

  “A spot of hunting and fishing,” Troy answered. “You strike me as a man that enjoys a sporting challenge.”

  “I’m certainly partial to slave games,” the Pirate grinned.

  The two men adjourned to the ranch house, to discuss the slave trade over drinks. As far as Troy was concerned, the twins were as good as sold. He would miss his nubile pet, who had proved herself a most dutiful maid. But he was not about to let his lust for Zoe stand in the way of the deal of a lifetime. With the Pirate’s money and contacts, Rancho Diablo could be poised on the brink of a goldrush.

  Some time later, Logan informed him that the slaves were ready for the sport to commence. The pair stood side by side in the yard, Masters holding the chains attached to their studded chokers. The blonde was body painted in the black and white striping of a zebra. Her companion was painted bright red. Both wore tight rubber hoods, of matching colours, laced up at the back, with only openings for their mouths. Huge silver hoops dangled from their nipples and outer labia. Their wrists were bound in front of them, with chains and steel cuffs.

  Four fresh “horses” stood by, harnessed to their chariots. The hunters’ weapons were fixed to racks on the sides of the chariots. On the left was an eight foot wooden lance, with a huge black dildo fitted to one end. The rack on the right held a fishing rod, with a large hook on the end. Troy did not explain the rules of the game to his guest. They would soon become apparent.

  The hooded slaves were led to a field of long grass, fenced with electrified wire. The hooded masters unclasped the chains from their chokers and sent them staggering blindly through the grass, with several stinging whiplashes to their buttocks. Troy and the Pirate waited a few minutes, before whipping their steeds off in pursuit.

  Being blind and deaf in their constricting masks added to the terror of the hunted slaves. Both fled in opposite directions, falling forward in the grass and staggering back to their feet. The zebra ran straight into the fence and received a jarring electric shock that knocked her flat on her back, with a loud shriek.

  Whips cracked across the hindquarters of the “horses”, as the two men steered them in pursuit of the striped slave. Hearing the lashes and the exultant cries of the men, she veered back against the fence, fell on her face, dragged herself back onto her feet and reeled directly into their path. Troy’s fishing line snaked through the air, the hook narrowly missing her left nipple hoop. The Pirate might have snared her, had one of his steeds not stumbled and almost overturned the chariot. The plump girl was loudly cursed and punished with five savage strokes of the whip across her back.

  The scarlet slave was temporarily forgotten, as her companion was gradually herded into a corner of the field by the flailing fishing lines of the two men. In desperation, she flung herself against the fence and was jolted by several bolts of electricity. As she slumped onto her back, the Pirate’s fishing line whistled past her face and hooked her right nipple hoop.

  “Looks like I’ve landed a juicy one!” he whooped.

  “Reel her in,” said Troy, reaching for his lance.

  The Pirate wound in the fishing line, dragging the girl on her hands and knees towards him, wrenching on her hooked nipple. Once she was within reach of the eight foot lance, Troy used it to push her onto her back. The Pirate reached for his lance, dismounted from his chariot and walked to where the girl lay. He kicked her thighs apart, then plunged the weapon in between. A full blooded scream rent the air, as several inches of the thick dildo was forced into her rectum.

  “One down, one to go!” the Pirate grunted. “I ain’t through with you yet, baby.”

  Alarmed by the scream, the other hooded slave was scrambling wildly around the field, desperately seeking some means of escape, knowing in her heart there was none. The men set off in pursuit, their human horses staggering under a barrage of frenzied whiplashes. Their quarry was panting like a trapped animal. The Pirate’s whip licked her buttocks, sending her stumbling towards the fence. Troy held his fishing rod at the ready.

  The scarlet girl ran headlong into the fence and responded to the electric shock with a loud scream. She staggered backwards, somehow managing to retain her balance. A vicious whiplash bit her thighs, bringing her to her knees. The men circled her, whips slicing the grass around her hips and lashing her bottom. Yelping under the onslaught, she raised herself once more to her feet and staggered towards the centre of the field, just as her tormentors intended. They could have closed in and grabbed her then, but that was not the object of the game.

  She managed to run only a few yards, before falling again. The Pirate mowed the grass from around her legs with his whip, then Troy cast his fishing line. He was right on target, the hook clinking against her labia rings, as she was caught. He wound the reel and the line became taut, stretching her nether lips. She cried out in agony, shuffling on her knees, as she was dragged to where her companion lay prone in the grass, the long lance protruding from between her buttocks.

  The scarlet slave was thrown face down beside her. From his chariot seat, Troy prodded the cleft of her buttocks with his lance, pulling hard on the fishing line.

  “No, please!” she shrieked.

  “Try an assful of this!” he snarled, pushing the dildo head into her anus.

  “What do we do with them now?” the Pirate demanded, when both girls lay side by side, lances jutting obscenely from their backsides.

  “We race the sluts,” Troy replied. “The winner becomes ranch bait. The loser goes on the cross.”

  The Pirate had no idea what ranch bait meant, but licked his lips at the prospect of a crucifixion. The fishing hooks were removed from the pair and they were sent scurrying blindly on all fours through the grass, whips flicking across their scarlet streaked rear cheeks.

  “First one to the gate wins,” said Troy. “Care to make it more interesting with a wager?”

  “A thousand says the zebra does it,” the Pirate replied.

  The distraught pair of slaves crawled through the grass, lances swaying l
ike bizarre flagpoles behind them. Whiplashes guided them in the general direction of the gate, but did not prevent them touching the electric fence, on several occasions. The Masters watching the race from outside the fence also exchanged bets on the outcome. All relished the prospect of dealing with both winner and loser.

  Over half an hour of whipping, electric shocks and snarled obscenities later, the striped girl reached the gate of the field. She was close to collapsing from exhaustion and her buttocks and thighs were raw from whip bites. The four “horses” were dripping sweat and as close to collapse as the two hooded slaves.

  “This must be my lucky day!” the Pirate declared, cracking his whip on the grass, as he leaped from his chariot. “What say we deal with the runner up, before decorating the victor?”

  “”Sounds like a splendid idea,” Troy replied, grabbing the lance in the scarlet slave and forcing it deeper into her rectum.

  “No, not crucifixion!” she croaked. “Show me some mercy, Master, I beg you.”

  Troy laughed derisively. “Save your breath for screaming when we nail you to the cross, you piece of shit!”

  The girl continued to plead and protest, as she was dragged towards the hill by two hooded Masters, wagging her lance behind her. Her companion was taken to the stocks on the veranda, to be prepared for the comparatively merciful fate of ranch bait.

  The crucifixion of the pierced blonde took over an hour and was a spectacle the Pirate thoroughly enjoyed. As guest of honour, he was awarded the task of nailing the unfortunate girl’s pussy to the cross. It was the highlight of his visit to Rancho Diablo.

  Leaving their victim weeping on the cross, the Masters walked back to the yard, to partake of their ranch bait. The brunette was secured in the stocks, wrists clamped in irons and feet spread wide apart by a set of shackles bolted to the ground.

  “Ranch bait is basically a piece of fuck meat,” Troy explained. “Any man wants her, he just walks up and sticks his cock wherever he pleases. But what makes her different from all the others is the fact that a couple of lucky slaves get to use her as well. She’s going to be fucked senseless, from dawn to dusk.”