Rancho Diablo

by Michael O'Connor

  “Look at me when I’m fucking you,” he commanded, gloved fingers gripping her throat.

  His monstrous appendage pounded her guts like a jackhammer. Through the mists of pain, she stared up into his dark, satanic eyes. She almost longed for him to tighten his grip on her throat and allow unconsciousness to free her from her agony. She should have known he was too gifted a practitioner of his craft to permit that.

  A sudden bolt of low voltage current exploded through her belly, taking her breath away. Black dots danced before her eyes. Troy had taken the control box in his right fist and was pressing the red button. This was wired to his cock sheath, the shocks transmitted through the studs and head of the object.

  Every thirty seconds, a fresh searing bolt was delivered. Zoe felt the tingle of the aftershocks through her stretched nipples. The rubber of the cock sheath insulated Troy from all but a pleasant tingling from the shocks.

  He did not reach his climax for almost fifteen minutes and Zoe was rendered half senseless by his bestial ministrations. When he finally withdrew from her, he removed the sheath and spilled the hot, sticky contents over her breasts. Kurt then worked his tightly clenched right fist into her well stretched canal, pushing until his knuckles brushed the entrance to her womb. The hooded Master began masturbating over her face.

  Three hours later, sobbing and wracked with pain, Zoe was released from her bondage, put on a leash and led, on all fours, from Lucifer’s Bedchamber to the slave corral. At the sight of their approaching Masters, the herd fell into a regimented line behind the barbed wire, standing side by side, thighs parted, in the manner that had been drilled into each and every one of them. Troy laid Zoe down on the dirt before them and planted his right boot on the semen smeared mound of her sex. In a loud voice, he addressed the herd.

  “This bitch is one half of a rebel pair. As soon as her sister is recaptured, you will have another reminder of the penalty for disobedience. This one has not yet paid the full price. Not by a long shot.” He beckoned to the slave directly in front of him. “Step forward and spit on her.”

  The girl obediently moved out of line, filling her mouth with saliva, as she approached. She spat, with theatrical venom, into Zoe’s left eye. A crack of the hooded Master’s whip sent her scurrying back into line. Troy called another slave forward.

  One by one, the slave girls spat their globs of saliva onto Zoe’s face and breasts. Several appeared to enjoy this rare opportunity to do something that was usually the preserve of their Masters. While she was being showered in spittle, Kurt inserted a rubber enema tube in her rectum. He then withdrew his cock and urinated into the attached plastic jug, filling it to a third of its capacity. The contents of the other two men’s bladders filled it to the brim, then the cap was screwed on.

  Kurt pressed down on the plunger, sending the hot urine surging up into Zoe’s bowels. At the halfway level, discomfort turned to pain. By the time all three pints were inside her, her belly felt ready to burst. Once more, Troy summoned the first of the slaves forward and commanded the fat girl to sit on Zoe’s face.

  “You like pussy, don’t you?” he sneered. “Well, start eating. You have a big meal to get through, before I take that tube out of your ass.”

  The slave writhed on her face, as Zoe plunged her tongue into her hot gash. She could barely breathe and the agony in her bowels was excruciating.

  “Make the bitch come,” Troy commanded. “And if I think any one of you slaves is faking it, you’ll spend an hour in Lucifer’s Bedchamber.”

  A whip cracked across the buttocks of the plump girl, as a sharp reminder that this degrading spectacle was not being staged for the pleasure of the slaves.

  One after another, twenty five slaves were brought forward, to ride Zoe’s face until they climaxed. Some needed only a couple of minutes with her expert tongue between their thighs to reach the peak of ecstasy. Others took much longer, savouring every moment, despite frequent licks of a Master’s whip on their backs and buttocks. Any pleasure Zoe might have derived from licking the girls was more than compensated for by the pain of her previous tortures and the three pints of piss sloshing in her bowels. She was certain she would pass out, before she was even halfway through the herd.

  An eternity later, slave twenty five moaned in ecstasy, as her juices drenched Zoe’s aching tongue. Before the tube was removed from her anus, she was ordered to squat over a bucket. The instant it was withdrawn, the steaming mess erupted from her bottom, splashing into the bucket and splattering her thighs. She farted several times, as she expelled the dregs of her enema. The sense of relief was overwhelming.

  “Now, another choice faces you,” Troy told her. “You can drink the contents of that bucket, or the piss from every one of these slaves. What’s it to be?”

  Zoe was too overcome with revulsion to reply.

  “I asked you a question,” Troy barked, digging a toe spike into the cleft of her buttocks. “The bucket or the slaves?”

  “Please, Sir, don’t make me do such a horrible thing,” Zoe cried. “Haven’t I been punished enough?”

  “Little girl, you’re wasting your breath begging for mercy,” he sneered. “Tell you what, we’ll let the slaves decide for you. A democratic vote.” He turned to the nearest girl in line. “What does she drink?”

  “The bucket, Sir,” came the hesitant reply.

  The answer seemed to please Troy, so was consequently parroted by the other twenty four slaves. Rancho Diablo was quick to sap its captives of any ability to think for themselves.

  “A unanimous verdict,” Troy smiled.

  Zoe was handed a soup ladle and ordered to begin drinking the foul contents of the bucket. She tried to block out the smell, as she raised the first nauseating scoopful to her lips. When she hesitated to swallow it, a riding crop struck her breasts.

  “Food fit for a slave,” Troy said, grabbing her by the hair. “Drink up, slut. We don’t want it to go cold on you.”

  Once the toilet bucket was emptied, he intended to let the herd piss in her mouth anyway. Being a firm, but fair Master was not something he prided himself on.

  Chapter 7

  Jenna had been on the run for two days and seemed no nearer to civilisation than when she had fled the ranch. Eating only wild berries and sleeping hardly at all, she had stumbled over mile upon mile of harsh, uninhabited terrain, like a hunted animal.

  She knew she would be unable to go much further. Her feet were blistered and bloody, scarcely capable of supporting her aching body. It was only a matter of time before she collapsed from sheer exhaustion. Then, she could only hope she was dead before whatever predators stalked these hills made a meal of her.

  She was surprised Troy’s men had not caught up with her. Even with a head start, they would soon track her down, on horseback. They could only have assumed she had taken a different route, once outside the confines of Rancho Diablo. A route that could well have led her to safety.

  Running away had been a stupid mistake. She knew that now. She should have waited. The one eyed man might have changed his mind and taken she and Zoe together. He might even have treated them more kindly than Troy. Perhaps they could have escaped together, at some later stage. Thoughts of her sister brought tears to her eyes. With every step she took, she became more certain she would never again see Zoe. If the one eyed Master had not taken her, somebody else would. On the other hand, Troy might decide to keep her for himself. Either way, she would never see freedom again, and that was Jenna’s fault.

  She was at the point where she would have willingly crawled back to Rancho Diablo and faced the wrath of Troy, if she had any idea of the direction in which it lay. There was no punishment that could be worse than dying alone in the wilds, to be eaten by animals.

  “Don’t give up,” she told herself, as she weaved her way through a dense forest, twigs and dead leaves crunching noisily
beneath her bare feet.

  Suddenly, a shot rang out, reverberating in the distance. Trembling, Jenna backed up against a tree trunk. She was not sure from which direction the shot had come, but it had not been far away. Before she could work out whether somebody had been shooting at her, she heard the cracking of twigs, then a small figure emerged from among the trees, several yards in front of her.

  The girl was dressed in calf high moccasin boots and a bearskin wrap that only half covered her thighs. A wild mane of jet black curls flowed to the slope of her buttocks. The rabbit she had just shot was slung casually over one shoulder. The shotgun nestled in the crook of her arm.

  Jenna could not believe her eyes. Just as she was about to give up all hope, an angel had appeared from nowhere! A twig snapped, as she stepped away from the tree. The girl whirled around, raising her shotgun. Jenna froze.

  “Please help me,” she whimpered.

  They regarded one another warily. Confronted by the sight of a dirty and bedraggled figure, in a state of total nudity, it was the young girl’s turn to be shocked. Jenna guessed she could not have been more than eighteen. Black curls were smeared across her pretty, elfin features. If she was a heaven sent rescuer, the fact was not evident in her wildly staring eyes. For one horrible moment, Jenna visualised herself suffering the same fate as the rabbit.

  The girl dropped the dead animal and stepped towards her, cocking the shotgun hammer. Jenna edged back against the tree, raising her hands above her head. The huntress pressed the double barrels to her throat and looked her up and down, in the manner of a male rapist.

  “Please, I’m lost,” Jenna croaked.

  The girl responded by thrusting her free hand between her thighs and roughly squeezing the stubbly mound of her sex. Ashen with fear, Jenna did not dare move a muscle. Two fingers slipped up inside her. The girl smelled of sweat and barely contained savagery. After a few minutes of frenziedly thrusting her fingers into Jenna, she removed them from between her thighs and sucked them, all the while keeping her dark, malevolent gaze fixed on her face.

  Her reaction to the taste of pussy was violent and instantaneous. She fell to her knees and attacked Jenna with a voracious mouth, biting her labia with sharp teeth and thrusting into her with her tongue. She placed the shotgun at her feet and raked her fingernails down her thighs, as she feasted. Jenna was too frightened to utter even a murmur of protest.

  The girl ate her for at least ten minutes, then wrestled her to the ground and leaped upon her, tugging her wrap up around her waist. Her diminutive size belied a strength that pinned Jenna helplessly to the earth. She plastered her lips against hers, forcing her tongue into her mouth, aggressively grinding her wet, hairy pussy against Jenna’s mound. As her passion became more heated, she bit Jenna’s lower lip, drawing blood. She then moved her head downwards, to fasten her sharp teeth around her right nipple. Her shriek of pain was muffled by the girl’s black hair, which practically covered her face.

  The huntress sounded more animal than human, grunting excitedly, as she ground her crotch against Jenna and repeatedly sank her teeth into her flesh. She made some feeble attempts at resistance, but hunger and exhaustion had sapped her strength. The feral mouth moved down between her thighs again, to slurp noisily at her pussy and nibble the puffy petals of her labia. Two fingers were thrust into her anus, withdrawn after a few seconds and joined the tongue in her pussy. Jenna writhed on the blanket of moss, leaves and twigs, breathlessly begging for the torment to cease. But her resistance merely inflamed the lust of the little savage.

  After she had drawn blood from both of Jenna’s thighs with her teeth, she squatted over her face and grabbed her by the hair. Jenna had a moment to study the drooling slash of her sex, before her face was forcefully buried in the heavily aromatic morass. Gripping her hair in both hands, the wild girl rode her face, smothering her in wet, unwashed pussy. Jenna used her tongue, more from instinct than desire. Perhaps if she satisfied this creature, she would look upon her more kindly.

  The girl climaxed with a long, guttural cry, flooding Jenna’s mouth with thick, warm love honey. Immediately afterwards, she pushed her back against the ground, smoothed her wrap down over her hips and picked up her shotgun.

  “You’re coming with me,” she declared, in a low, menacing voice.

  With a shotgun pointed at her face, Jenna was not inclined to argue. She staggered to her feet, spitting out a pubic curl that had stuck to her tongue. The girl prodded her in the back with the shotgun, pausing to pick up her rabbit, before herding her onwards through the forest.

  Fifteen minutes later, they came to a riverbank. A small boat was pulled up onto the mud. At her captor’s command, Jenna pushed it into the water and clambered aboard. The girl jumped in and sat opposite her, keeping the shotgun cocked.

  “Row across,” she snapped. “I’m taking you home to meet momma.”

  The crossing of the river took less than ten minutes. The pair then continued on foot, through another dense growth of forest. The girl said nothing and Jenna was too terrified to speak. Shortly, they reached a log cabin, nestled in a clearing among the trees. As they approached, the front door opened and a well built woman in a lumber shirt and tight blue jeans emerged.

  The resemblance to her daughter was plain to see, though the woman’s black hair was liberally streaked with grey and thin lines were etched on the contours of her not unattractive face.

  “What you caught today, Dina?” she demanded, incredulously.

  “Rabbit and girl, momma,” came the proud reply. “Found her in the woods, all lost ‘n’ naked. Pretty, ain’t she?”

  “Sure is,” agreed Momma, eyeing Jenna from head to foot.

  She caressed Jenna’s breasts with both rough skinned hands, before falling to her knees and pushing her thighs wide apart. She murmured excitedly, inspecting her sex with both hands, pulling her labial folds apart and thrusting a finger up inside her. She tasted it, liked it, and proceeded to voraciously rape her with her mouth. Her daughter squatted down to watch, grunting as she worked her right hand between her own thighs.

  Jenna trembled, as the woman’s tongue burrowed inside her. The sensations she aroused were far from unpleasant, but Jenna was too exhausted and scared to enjoy anything sexual. At that moment, she would have given her clit for a decent meal and a soft bed.

  Momma feasted on her for a good fifteen minutes, finally raising her head from between her thighs, with an expression of pure delight.

  “Let’s take her inside,” she said. “I’m gonna make her eat momma’s pussy. Dina, you get that rabbit ready for supper. If there’s any stew left over, our guest can have it.”

  “Make her do it,” the girl protested. “She’s our slave now, ain’t she?”

  She was silenced by a backhanded slap across the face.

  “Do as you’re told,” the woman barked. “After supper, we’ll play with her together.”

  While the young girl stomped off to the kitchen in a sulk, her mother took charge of the shotgun, marching Jenna to the bedroom at the rear of the cabin.

  “Best get you tied up, first thing,” she drawled. “Don’t want you runnin’ out on us, do we?”

  Jenna fell to her knees and fixed her with an imploring gaze.

  “I won’t run away,” she vowed. “But you’ve got to help me, please! I’ve escaped from a place called Rancho Diablo. There are dozens of women prisoners there, being treated like animals. They’ve still got my sister. If you help me, I’ll do anything, I swear.”

  “Ain’t no concern of mine,” the woman replied, unbuckling her thick belt. “We caught you, we’re keepin’ you.”

  Further pleas for mercy were met with several lashes of the belt across her breasts, before the woman used it to bind her hands behind her back. She pushed her onto the double bed, then kicked off her boots and pulled off her jeans and bri
efs, in a fever of desire. Her pussy was hot and hairy, craving Jenna’s tongue. She began unbuttoning her shirt, as she lowered herself onto her face.

  From the kitchen, Dina watched through the open bedroom door, as she gutted the rabbit. Her mother was soon completely naked, her huge breasts bouncing as she thrust against the face of her captive. The sight inflamed the young girl’s loins, to an almost unbearable intensity. Abandoning her butchery, she slid her blood soaked hands up along her thighs, to the waiting hot swell. When her fingers proved inadequate to the task of self gratification, she slammed the bloody point of the large knife into the wooden floor and lowered herself onto the handle. As she worked herself up and down the length of black plastic, she licked the sticky blood of the rabbit from her fingers. The creaking of the bed accompanied her mother’s animal cries of pleasure.

  The rabbit stew was eventually prepared, but neither mother nor daughter was particularly hungry, due to the excitement of their new plaything tied up in the bedroom. A bowlful was brought to Jenna, afterwards. While Dina fed her with a wooden spoon, her mother knelt behind the standing captive and parted her buttocks with both hands, in order to inspect her anus. She nuzzled it with her nose, inhaling the raw scent, then flicked her tongue over the brown rim. The fact that Jenna was dirty only made her more appetising.

  Dina could scarcely contain her impatience, as she shovelled the food into the mouth of the starving slave. The instant the bowl was empty, she flung off her bearskin wrap, pushed Jenna to her knees and thrust her naked crotch against her face. Her thighs and lower belly were smeared with dried blood. This time, Jenna did not hesitate to lend her mouth to her fiery sex. She was so grateful for the food, she was prepared to play the perfect slave, for the moment, at least.

  Dina’s juicy pussy was quite a tasty dessert and Jenna enjoyed the sensation of her mother’s tongue probing her anus. She did not really mind when first one, then a second finger was introduced into her rear hole. Only when a third was forced up inside did her body stiffen in protest. The woman loosened her sphincter muscles, then forced all four fingers of her right hand into her rectum, grunting as she thrust deep. Dina was driven to a frenzy of lust by the pungent smell that reached her nostrils. Jenna’s tongue thrumming her swollen clitoris was not enough. She wanted to make the slave suffer, like a wild animal snared in a trap.