Withdrawing the lance from her anus, he called for the two chosen girls to be brought on. The naked pair were joined together by a long chain attached to their iron collars. Strapped around the waist of one was a gigantic double headed pink dildo. The other was kitted with a smaller black dildo and black leather panties decorated with barbed wire.
“You bitches don’t need me to tell you what to do,” Troy barked, pushing them towards the ranch bait.
The Pirate was already unzipping his trousers. While he thrust his humungous cock into the mouth of the ranch bait, the girl in the rubber panties penetrated her from behind, thrusting the full length of her dildo into her rectum. At the end of the thrust, the barbed wire gouged the girl’s already throbbing buttocks, drawing several small bubbles of blood. She would have screamed, had she not been choking on the Pirate’s cock. The other slave stood by, watching and waiting for her turn. Before the night was over, her double headed dildo would see plenty of action in all three orifices of the ranch bait. It was the job of both slaves to fuck the captive, whenever she was not being used by a Master. The slightest dereliction of duty would be severely punished.
Ten minutes of aggressive throat fucking later, the Pirate splattered the ranch bait’s face with a hot, sticky semen shower. After she had licked his cock clean, he showed his appreciation by washing her face with a golden shower. While she was still dripping piss, Kurt stepped up to feed her his stiff cock. A hooded Master pushed away the slave fucking her rear and his cock took the place of the dildo in her nether hole.
“That Master of yours sure knows how to treat a lady!” Jake exhaled, peering intently through the bedroom window.
Jenna was glad she could not see what was happening. She and Zoe had been terrified by the screams they had heard earlier. Whatever depravity was taking place, she knew it was connected with the one eyed man, to whom she and her sister would shortly belong. She did not care to contemplate what they might be put through at his hands.
Dinner provided a further feast of perversion. The meal was served by a pair of slaves in black satin hoods, with slits for their eyes. Their bodies were completely bare. Steel clamps and wires were attached to their nipples and labia. Should the meal they had prepared fail to impress their Masters, they would be plugged into Troy’s little black box and punished with a brace of electric shocks.
The dinner table was formed by a quartet of naked slaves, suspended from the ceiling by chains and leather manacles around their wrists, ankles and thighs. They hung in a star shaped formation, perfectly horizontal. The mouth of each girl held a fat black candle, which was lit by the serving girls, prior to their Masters being served. Each of the four men drew up his chair between the widely parted thighs of a table slave.
“Nice furniture,” the Pirate remarked. “I can safely say this is the first dinner table I’ve ever wanted to fuck.”
His companions laughed raucously.
Dinner was served on plates hot enough to scorch the bare flesh they were placed upon. Wine glasses were placed beside the plates and filled by the serving slaves. The girls stretched out as a table scarcely dared to breathe. If even a drop of wine was spilled, as a result of one of them moving, all four would suffer a painful punishment.
“I gotta hand it to you, Troy, this is the most impressive slave operation I’ve ever seen,” the Pirate said, as they ate. “It’s a model for how the entire country should be run. You know how to keep your girls in their place and they give you no shit. Consider our bargain on the twins as good as sealed. I’ll be taking them with me, in the morning. But, like I said already, I need six pretty girls for my crew. You’ve got a few more in the corral that would fit the bill perfectly. Up to now, I’ve been getting my girls from a number of different sources. If we can work out a favourable deal here, my associates and I will be in a position to take ten, maybe twenty girls a month off your hands. There’s a big demand for slaves out there.”
“We can work out a deal,” Troy assured him, carefully concealing his delight.
“Put one of the twins in the corral,” the Pirate instructed. “I’ll have the other in my bed. I want her to think I’m only taking her. Keep the bitch on her toes.”
He clicked his fingers and a serving slave appeared promptly by his side, to refill his wine glass. Slavery was the sole topic of discussion, for the remainder of the meal. Troy was already mentally adding up the figures and coming up with an extremely bright future.
When the meal was finished, the four men stood up and unzipped their trousers. What better way to finish a superb feast than by screwing the slaves they had literally dined upon? While the two serving slaves cleared away the dishes, the men thrust their cocks into the slits of the table slaves, as they lit cigars from the candles flickering in their mouths.
Kurt herded Jenna out to the corral and threw her a blanket, to wrap up in.
“You’re sleeping under the stars tonight,” he told her. “Pity the Pirate doesn’t want your sister, as well. Didn’t even give you a chance to say goodbye.”
With that, he departed, leaving her crouched on the ground, hugging her rough blanket. As his words sank in, she began to sob softly. She had been certain she and Zoe were to be sold together. If the one eyed Master wanted only her, they would never again see one another. That would be more unbearable than any amount of torture.
After they had finished fucking the table slaves, the men sat back down and the Master of Diablo produced a deck of cards. Rolls of fifty dollar notes were stuffed into the slits of the four hanging girls. The serving slaves poured bourbon for their Masters, as the poker game commenced.
While Troy and his guests drank and gambled, the remaining Masters proceeded to partake of ranch bait and the alcohol supply, with an equal hunger for both. The celebratory mood inspired by the Pirate’s visit was infectious. Though money had never been the prime motivation behind Rancho Diablo, there was not one man among the seven Masters, who did not dream of becoming rich through his chosen vocation.
The poker game continued for several hours, with the winning streak alternating between the four players. The table girls were sweating and in agony from being hung for hours on end. Their breasts were being used as ashtrays and all four twin mounds had suffered burns. The drunker they became, the more carelessly the Masters handled their glowing cigars. One serving slave was sufficient to ensure their glasses were never empty. The other knelt in a corner, with a clear plastic bucket hanging from a chain around her neck. This was the toilet. As well as unzipping the man’s trousers, licking his cock clean once he had finished urinating, then zipping him up again, the slave had to ensure the bucket was not allowed to fill above the halfway mark. This she did by drinking urine with a soup ladle, once it reached danger level.
At four A.M., the Pirate finally called a halt to the game. His two companions had dropped out an hour earlier and adjourned to the veranda, where an exhausted ranch bait, overflowing with semen from all three orifices, awaited them. Her buttocks and thighs were bleeding from the barbed wire briefs of one of the two slaves assigned to keep her continuously penetrated, as well as the whips wielded by her Masters.
Jake decided he would prefer something that had not been repeatedly fucked by every man on the ranch. Troy had invited them to help themselves, so he staggered towards the barn, in search of a suitable girl. On the way, he decided to check on one half of the Pirate’s expensive purchase. As he stared into the floodlit corral, he rubbed his eyes, thinking he must be imagining things. Jenna was gone.
Chapter 6
Handcuffed to the Pirate’s bed, early next morning, Zoe heard the events unfolding outside. The loudest voice was that of the one eyed giant.
“You’ve already searched the whole damned ranch,” he bellowed angrily. “I don’t deal with incompetents. Those two bitches ought to be on that chopper now. Instead, you’ve allowed one of them to go AWOL
. Leaving the fucking gate open, for Christ’s sake! It’s pathetic!”
“She’ll be found,” Troy pleaded. “Give me a couple of hours.”
“I don’t have time to sit on my ass, while you play the great white hunter,” the Pirate replied. “That bitch is gone and so are any chances of you and I doing business. I’ll buy my girls elsewhere. Adios.”
Minutes later, the helicopter was airborne and Troy’s ambitions were in the billowing dust.
“Don’t just fucking stand there!” he bellowed to his men. “Saddle up and get on the trail of that bitch. I want her brought back in one piece, so that I can personally nail her fucking cunt to the cross. Kurt, bring me her sister. I can start on her, while I’m waiting.”
Moments later, Zoe was being dragged from the ranch house, a lariat around her neck. Troy waited at the whipping post across the yard, chewing angrily on the stub of a cigar.
“Tie her up and take the gag out of her mouth,” he snapped. “If her twin is anywhere nearby, she’ll hear her screaming.”
Zoe was forced to hug the thick wooden post with her arms and legs, while Kurt bound her limbs with thick ropes. As soon as she was securely in place, the whip cracked across her buttocks, with a savagery that brought a shrill scream from her throat.
“Maybe your beloved sister will hear you and come back to save you,” Troy rasped, laying a second lash on top of the first. “For your sake, she’d better not wait too long.”
As Zoe was mercilessly thrashed on the whipping post, four horsemen, led by Logan, thundered out of the ranch gates, in search of her sister. The whipping continued until her buttocks and thighs began to bleed. But her punishment had only begun. Troy was almost insane with a rage that could only be exorcised through the most extreme punishments his sadistic mind could conceive.
Zoe was dragged to a torture chamber in the basement of the ranch house and forced to spread-eagle herself before the black metal throne on which Troy sat. Stretching out his legs, he planted the spurs of his boots on her thighs. The metal pierced her flesh, but she did not dare cry out. Her arms were spread out and Kurt pressed down on the fingers of her right hand with his boot. A hooded Master stood on her left.
“Well, slave, isn’t your sister the foolish one,” said Troy. “It seems she did not learn her lessons as well as I thought. Not only has she broken the golden rule of Rancho Diablo, by running away, she has cost me a lot of money and made me look extremely foolish. I do not take kindly to being made a fool of by my slaves. When she is recaptured, I guarantee she will be tortured to within an inch of her miserable life. In the meantime, I shall take great pleasure in making you wish you had never been born.”
“But Sir, I’ve done nothing wrong!” Zoe protested.
His spurs raked down her thighs, gouging two pockmarked furrows.
“Collective guilt,” he rasped. “It ain’t fair, but it is justice.” He held up a deck of cards in his right hand and shuffled them. “Few slaves are allowed to choose the form of their punishment, but that is the privilege I am about to offer you. I will cut this deck once, then show you the top card in either my right or left hand. The choice is yours. If I hold up an ace, you will be crucified. A king, you will be hung upside down on the gallows and horsewhipped. If I show you a queen, it’s straight to Lucifer’s Bedchamber. For a Jack, your pussy will be sewn up for twenty four hours and your mouth will be a toilet for the other slaves. Any card lower than a jack earns you the right to choose the whip with which each of your Masters will beat you.”
He shuffled the cards again and cut the deck, holding both halves face down. “One other thing, before you make your choice. Do you know what will happen if your lucky card happens to be a joker?”
Zoe shook her head. “No, Sir.”
“Choose a joker, and you’ll be set free,” he replied.
Kurt smiled, knowing there were no jokers in the pack. He also knew that Zoe’s fate was already decided. The deck was marked and Troy would be showing the same card in whichever hand she chose.
“Pick a card and make a wish,” he told her.
After a moments hesitation, she picked right. He held up that hand and her heart sank. The top card was the queen of spades.
Lucifer’s Bedchamber adjoined the dungeon. It was a place reserved for the most bizarre and cruel forms of punishment and familiar to only very few unfortunate slaves. Zoe was dragged down the stone steps and immediately wished the place had remained secret.
A hooded Master lit the four wall lanterns, bathing the dank cellar in an eerie yellow glow. The bed, suspended from the ceiling by four heavy duty chains, sloped from the wall to the floor at a thirty degree angle. Leather straps hung at the side, ready to secure the victim. The wooden base of the bed was decorated with conical silver studs. A leather harness hung from the rafters by another chain.
Kneeling at the feet of her Master, Zoe pleaded for mercy. Troy responded by plugging in his electric prod and giving her nipples two full powered shots. He then ordered her to be put in the harness.
The leather straps were adjusted to perfectly accommodate her frame. Her feet were placed in stirrups and her ankles strapped. Her arms were spread out and her wrists manacled to the horizontal steel bar above her head. The headpiece of the harness consisted of a strap around her throat, another around her skull and a third attached to a hard rubber bit drawn tightly between her teeth. The hooded Master pulled one of several levers on the wall by the bed. Zoe was winched several inches off the ground and pulled backwards, towards the foot of the studded bed. Every movement was accompanied by a rattle of chains and creak of pulleys.
“Your bed is ready,” Troy announced, tweaking her left nipple. “I’ll join you shortly.”
Another lever was pushed and Zoe leaned back in her harness, descending slowly towards the waiting studs. All she could do by way of resistance was wriggle her fingers and toes and chomp on the bit between her teeth. While she was being lowered, Troy disappeared behind a black curtain. A minute passed before her buttocks touched the cold studs. The hooded Master operating the pulleys paused, enjoying her moment of torment, before the inevitable agony. Another movement of the lever laid her fully down on the bed. She whimpered through her gag, as the studs dug into her flesh, from ankles to shoulders.
By the time Troy reappeared, her ankles and wrists had been manacled to the bed and she was laid out on her back, like a human sacrifice. The vision that emerged from behind the curtain was a terrifying study in sadism. Troy’s erect cock was sheathed in black latex, dotted with round studs. The crown of his sheath was a copper ball, five inches in diameter. The contraption was held in place by a strap around his waist. The armour of black leather covering his upper body was even more terrifying, as it bristled with silver porcupine quills.
“You have your sister to thank for this,” he said, leaning over Zoe. “If she hadn’t been so selfish, you would not be here. Perhaps when I’ve finished with you, I’ll allow you to watch her being crucified.”
From the ammo belt slung low over his waist, he produced a long, thin needle. Gripping one side of Zoe’s labia between the thumb and forefinger of his left hand, he stretched the fold of flesh and plunged the needle straight through. Even with the bit in her mouth, she managed to utter a strangled scream of pain.
The needle was withdrawn, then plunged through the opposite side of her pussy. With the precision of a craftsman, he pierced nine holes in either side of her nether lips. Then, he threaded a small hook through each hole. A long strand of silver thread trailed from each. Kurt drew nine of these strands in one direction, his hooded accomplice, the other. They tied the threads to hoops on the opposite walls, spreading Zoe’s vaginal folds so wide, she felt as though she were being ripped apart. The silver threads resembled a bizarre spiders web, stretching out from between her thighs. Troy inspected the gaping tunnel of her sex, with obvious
satisfaction.
Her anus was then subjected to the attentions of the Master torturer. A conical object of hard red rubber, six inches long and with a perspex peephole at the tip, was pushed into her rectum. Troy turned a dial at the base and the sphere began to expand, every click forcing the slave’s rear tunnel wider open. He did not stop until her muscles were stretched to breaking point. The peephole magnified the depths of her bowels, rendering every detail clearly visible through the clear perspex base of the cone. The object was tightly strapped to her thighs, to prevent it from being squeezed out of her bottom.
“Now for her nipples,” said Troy. “What do you suggest, Kurt? Clamps or nails?”
In response, Kurt produced his nail gun.
Troy stretched her right nipple between the steel jaws of a pair of pliers. Kurt pressed the muzzle of his nail gun against her nipple and squeezed the trigger, burying a steel bolt in the brown bud. Troy briefly admired the nail skewered nipple, before taking the peak of her left breast in the pliers.
When both nipples had been speared, a set of steel clamps was attached to the protruding nails. These were mounted on long springs hanging from the rafter directly above. Once Zoe’s nipples were hooked up, Kurt released his hold on the springs. The recoil was so violent, her nipples were nearly torn from her breasts.
The helpless slave did not have had any breath left to scream, even if she had not been gagged. She was drowning beneath waves of unspeakable agony, the likes of which she had never experienced. By comparison to this torture, the cross might have proved merciful.
“Now, my sweet thing, time to fuck you,” Troy announced.
His thigh boots protected him from the studs on the bed, when he crawled between her thighs and mounted her. The shiny ball at the head of his cock sheath penetrated her pussy like an iron fist, splaying her painfully protesting muscles. But the discomfort of that invasion was nothing, compared to the blinding torture of the quills on Troy’s leather armour puncturing the flesh of her upper body, when he lay down on top of her.
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