Rancho Diablo

by Michael O'Connor

  Kat shrugged. “They may wish to keep you as a sex slave for the gang. One of the Kings might even choose you to be his lady. But it’s most likely they’ll demand a ransom from your owners, for your return.”

  “Send me back to Rancho Diablo!” Jenna cried. “But I’ve told Chaim how they punish runaways there.”

  “That’s hardly his concern,” said Kat. “Anyway, I can do nothing to help you. As a prospect, I’m little more than a slave myself.”

  “What’s a prospect?”

  “Common gang property,” the small girl explained. “Until one man puts a collar on me and claims me as his, I belong to them all. The other girls are all claimed, but Tori is extra special, because she belongs to Chaim. We’re all very careful not to cross her. She can be more dangerous than any of the men.”

  “She wants to kill me,” Jenna whispered. “It’s like she blames me for being screwed by Chaim. If he wants me, I can hardly refuse.”

  “She’s jealous,” said Kat. “She doesn’t like sharing her King with anybody, least of all a slave who has just appeared from nowhere. I’d advise you to try extra hard to please Tori. Your life could yet depend on it. A few months ago, I saw her almost kill a girl with her bare hands.”

  Jenna wished she had not been given that particular piece of information. She was scared enough of Tori, as it was.

  As she curled up in her blanket, for another night of fitful sleep on the hard ground, she was rudely brought back to reality by a determined tug on her chain. She stifled a groan, as she opened her eyes. With the exception of Chaim, the gang members had been raping her throughout the evening. Just when she thought she could finally rest, it seemed she was about to be brutalised yet again.

  “I do apologise for disturbing you,” Clawfinger sneered. “But I’m having trouble getting to sleep, so I thought I’d play with my little doggy for a while.”

  Jenna knew by the tone in his voice that he was unlikely to be satisfied with merely raping her. He had something more creative in mind. He pulled off her blanket and rolled her onto her back, with the steel capped toe of his right boot. With a humility that was now almost second nature, Jenna unquestioningly obeyed his instructions, raising her legs high and drawing her knees up to her chest. Clawfinger tightly bound her wrists to her knees with a thick, oily rope. He then wheeled his Harley over to where she lay and tied the loose end of the rope to the back wheel.

  He adjourned to his tent and Jenna briefly dared to believe he had done his worst. But he returned five minutes later, carrying a mallet and two short wooden stakes, joined together by a short, thick piece of black leather. This was forced between her teeth, then the stakes hammered into the earth on either side of her, tightly pinning her to the ground.

  “That looks good,” he commented, towering over her. “Say something, doggy.”

  Jenna could utter no more than a whimper.

  “Can’t speak,” he grinned. “That’s good. I don’t want you screaming and waking everybody up, when I start torturing you. I know it’s mean not to let the others join in the fun, but I enjoy it better when it’s just you and me. Nothing like a little intimacy between slave and torturer, huh? You just stay right there, while I go for a few more necessities.”

  He seemed to be gone for ages, giving Jenna far too much time to contemplate countless hideous possibilities. One of the many things she had learned about torture was that even the most appalling brutality, when unavoidable, was made far worse by being postponed. When Clawfinger eventually returned, he gripped a huge bouquet of nettles in his steel hand.

  “For you, my love,” he growled, dropping several onto Jenna’s breasts.

  All she could do was hiss and jerk her body, as the plants began to burn her flesh. He brushed the bunch against the undersides of her thighs, across her buttocks and the mouth of her pussy. Her eyes filled with tears of pain that shimmered in the light of the full moon.

  Clawfinger probed her anus with a gloved finger, which he then transferred to her pussy. The stinging nettles more than compensated for any faint stirrings of pleasure she might have experienced. Having teased her for a while, he took a handful of nettles in his gloved fist, bent them in half, then pushed the stalks and most of the leaves up between her thighs, leaving only a few green petals protruding.

  Once her pussy was stuffed with nettles, he turned his attention to her rear hole. One by one, he pushed the stalks of the longest nettles up into her bottom, until she was completely filled. The internal stinging was worse than a combined whipping and branding. Clawfinger jammed the last of the bunch between her toes, then stood up and urinated down onto her face, making sure not a drop missed the target. Before leaving her to her agony, he covered her with her blanket, then bid her goodnight.

  Kat found her in the morning, before any of the others had risen. Her eyes filled with tears of anger, as she first removed all the now dead nettles from Jenna, then pulled the stakes out of the ground, with great effort. The hideous stinging, both inside and out, had given way to a maddening itch, that was almost worse. Small red bumps covered Jenna’s breasts and nether regions. Kat hesitated before untying the rope around her wrists and knees, as though fearful of incurring the wrath of Clawfinger. Jenna whimpered her thanks, as she began scratching like a flea infested dog.

  It was not Clawfinger that Kat had most reason to fear. As the slave was not his exclusive property, he felt no reason to make enquiries about who had taken pity on her in the morning. The punishment for Kat’s good deed came from another source.

  Late that afternoon, a short distance from the camp, she was leaning back against a tree, urinating onto a clump of dead leaves. Her ragged denim shorts were around her ankles. Hearing a twig snap, she looked up. Tori was standing a few feet away, a far from friendly look in her narrowed eyes. Kat expelled a final golden squirt from between her thighs, then dabbed herself dry with a leaf.

  “Stand up,” Tori told her. “Leave your shorts as they are.”

  Kat obeyed. Tori’s steely tone suggested it would be foolish to do otherwise. She knew the Queen occasionally enjoyed sex with another girl, whenever Chaim permitted it. Kat preferred men, though she had grown gradually less uncomfortable with lesbian pleasures. Tori looked her over, as she approached her. When she was within reach, her right arm shot out and her hand gripped Kat’s throat.

  “You like that slave slut, don’t you?” she said softly.

  “What do you mean?” asked Kat, fear replacing the first cautious tremors of desire.

  “I saw how you took care of her this morning,” Tori replied. “It was very sweet.”

  “I felt sorry for her,” Kat whimpered.

  “How nice,” the biker Queen rasped, tightening her grip on her throat. “Let me give you some advice, Kat. Worry less about her ass and more about your own. I could get rid of two slaves just as easy as one. Remember, you haven’t been claimed by a Hell King yet, so you have no more rights than that piece of shit back there. I don’t like her and I want to hurt her. If you’re her friend, I don’t like you and I want to hurt you.”

  As she uttered that final phrase, she sent Kat sprawling to the ground by kicking her ankles from under her. Throwing herself on top of her, she grabbed her hair with one hand, rolled her onto her belly and pushed her face into the piss soaked pile of leaves. Kat struggled with all her might, but was pinned down by the full body weight of the other girl.

  “This is just a warning,” Tori panted, scooping up a handful of sodden leaves. “Find yourself a new friend. This one could get you killed.”

  Gripping Kat by the hair, she thrust her right hand down between her buttocks. Tightly squeezing the fistful of leaves, she massaged the terrified girl’s anus with her knuckles. Kat’s scream was muffled by the leaves her face was buried in, as Tori worked her fist up into her rectum. She was no stranger to anal sex, of course, but th
is was far more painful than accommodating even the hugest of cocks. Tori gritted her teeth and unclenched her fist in the snug depths of her bottom. When she wrenched her hand back out, only a single leaf remained stuck to it with thick, sticky bowel syrup. She wiped it in Kat’s blonde hair, then left her sobbing on the ground, her bottom filled with leaves. The prospect had learned her lesson.

  Jenna had reached the conclusion that her continued survival lay in being claimed by a member of the Hell Kings. But mere survival would not be enough. She would never forget Zoe, or the people responsible for enslaving them both. Fighting back against Dina and her momma had whetted her appetite for revenge. In order to reap the full fruits of vengeance, she needed the Hell Kings. But if she was going to be claimed, she did not intend it to be by the likes of Clawfinger. She was going to knock Tori from her throne and become Chaim’s Queen, or die trying.

  “How long do you plan on having that blonde shit slut around?” Tori demanded, as she polished the biker Captains boots with a pair of her own red silk panties.

  “What’s it to you?” he drawled, through a marijuana fog.

  “I don’t like her,” she replied. “And you don’t need her. The brothers have enough girls to keep them satisfied and you’ve got me.”

  “You know what I really don’t need?” Chaim snapped. “Some bitch telling me my business. You’re trying that a lot lately, Tori, and it’s beginning to piss me off. You know I don’t take kindly to a bitch getting out of line.”

  “I’m not trying to tell you what to do,” she protested. “I’m just ...”

  “Just jealous,” he sneered. “She’s young, she’s pretty, and she’s got better tits than you. You’re beginning to look washed up, baby. This new girl is too good to just throw away. I’m thinking about making her a prospect.”

  The appalled look that crossed Tori’s face was exactly what he had hoped for. He had never seen her so jealous of another girl and it was supremely gratifying. The remark about Jenna’s superior tits had not been strictly true. Tori might be a few years older than the blonde, but she still possessed a body to die for. Chaim figured she just needed to be frightened back into line and Jenna was the perfect weapon to make her fear for her unique position in his affections.

  Tori was on the point of protesting again, but decided it might be wiser to prove her worth to her man. Putting down the heavy boots, she reached for the zipper of his leather jeans, burying her face in his lap. His cock was stiffening even before she wrapped her fingers around the fat veined length, which somewhat reassured her. Chaim allowed her to run her tongue over his swelling tube for a few minutes, before jerking her head up.

  “Strip!” he commanded, rising from his bearskin rug.

  Tori hurriedly obeyed, eager to submit to whatever he desired. By the time she was naked, he had found the objects he required. Without waiting to be told, she offered out her wrists to the handcuffs, which he snapped shut. He then switched on the long, thick gold vibrator and fed it up between her thighs, until it had all but disappeared from view. Her body shuddered in time to the pulsating beat of the sex toy. Chaim then pushed her to her knees and brushed her lips with the wet purple crown of his cock. Opening wide, she greedily swallowed all ten inches, burying her nose in his thick pubic thatch.

  Chaim had enjoyed many girls in his time, but none that possessed the cocksucking skills of Tori. With her mouth, she was an accomplished artiste. He breathed heavily as he thrust between her lips, thumbs hooked in his studded belt. She knew what he liked and treated him to the blowjob of his life, occasionally pausing to lick his sweaty, spunk heavy balls and gently nibble the dark, prickly skin of his sac, before once again taking him deep in her throat. Finally, she heard him moan and felt his shaft tremble in readiness to deliver her hot, creamy reward.

  “Don’t swallow it,” he growled, hastily withdrawing his cock from between her lips.

  She held her mouth open and extended her tongue to collect the thick globs of cream that spat from his cock slit. Nothing would have pleased her more than to swallow every drop, but her Master’s pleasure was more important than hers. When he had milked the full load from his cock, he hauled Tori to her feet and zipped up his jeans, before leading her out of the tepee.

  His thick, salty cum sloshed around in her mouth, as he marched her to where Jenna sat cross legged on the ground. Seeing him approach, the slave smiled expectantly. Tori did not particularly mind the rest of the gang seeing her naked and handcuffed, but the sight of Jenna sitting up like a well trained puppy made her boil with rage. Chaim pushed her to her knees, then gripped Jenna by the back of the neck and pushed her close to Tori.

  “Open your mouth,” he commanded. “Tori has a present for you. Tori, give it to her.”

  She shook her head, face crimson with rage.

  “Do as I say,” he barked. “Unless you want to change places with her.”

  Jenna’s head was already tilted backwards, her mouth open. Tori leaned over, inches above her and allowed Chaim’s semen to dribble from between her lips, onto the waiting tongue of the captive. Jenna hungrily lapped it up. Tori spat the last of the mess into her mouth, but the humiliation was not yet complete. She was forced to stick out her tongue for Jenna to lick and suck, until not even the taste of cum remained.

  “Did you enjoy that, slave?” Chaim enquired.

  Jenna licked her lips and smiled. “Yes thank you, Master. It was delicious.”

  In the wake of that incident, Tori’s hatred of Jenna became almost psychopathic. It was bad enough that the slave had enjoyed what was rightfully hers - the cum of her biker Captain. But even worse was her calling him Master and making her enjoyment of Tori’s humiliation so obvious. When the time was right, she vowed she would rip her apart with her bare hands.

  Having upped the stakes, Chaim was deriving ever greater satisfaction from the game. Tori’s chief concern was for her position as his Queen, which forced her to redouble her efforts to satisfy him. She polished his leathers and boots with her tongue and even licked him clean when he went to the toilet. She had not performed such a degrading task since her days as a prospect.

  But however Tori debased herself for her Master, Jenna was prepared to do likewise. The slave spent an entire afternoon polishing his Harley with her tongue and manicured his pubes with her teeth, swallowing the curls she bit off. Her suggestion that he might like to urinate into her bottom was too good to resist. From the tepee, Tori witnessed the hated slave on all fours, Chaim’s cock head buried between her buttocks. Having emptied his bladder, he proceeded to fuck her. The pleasure of thrusting into the hot swamp of her piss filled bottom exceeded even the most exquisite of Tori’s blow jobs.

  As the days stretched into weeks, Jenna knew she was slowly but surely winning over the biker Captain. Tori remained his favourite, but she was being forced to share. That was not a situation she would ever be able to accept. Scarcely an hour passed without her contemplating getting rid of the slave and suffering the consequences. It would be so easy to sneak out of the tepee when Chaim was asleep or otherwise engaged, and plunge a knife through the heart of the bitch. But to do so would be seen as a sign of weakness by Chaim. The act of a desperate woman, who could not compete for him by conventional means. She restricted herself to humiliating and abusing Jenna at every opportunity, forcing her to urinate on her own food before eating it, regularly kicking and whipping her and training her to fetch sticks, like a dog.

  Since her encounter with Tori in the forest, Kat avoided Jenna like the plague. When she did find herself in her vicinity, she was almost as abusive as the Queen. Jenna somehow understood that the girl was acting out of fear rather than malice and vowed that that was one more thing Tori would soon be forced to pay for.

  The rest of the gang were tiring of the slave and no longer felt so inclined to avail of her, now that she was obviously a favoured plaything of their
leader. One afternoon, Chaim called a meeting in the forest, from which the women were excluded.

  “It’s time we were moving on,” he declared. “This fucking place is beginning to mess with my head. It should be safe to carry on with our original plan to head West. We can offload the merchandise, then set up camp some place more civilised.”

  There were murmurs of agreement all round.

  “What about the slave? Clawfinger demanded. “I know we’ve had her five weeks, but we can’t take her with us.”

  “What do you suggest?” asked Chaim.

  “Snuff her,” he replied. “That’s what I’ve had in mind from the start. She may be a fine piece of ass, but I ain’t forgetting she almost put a bullet in me.”

  The remaining Hell Kings had their say, all but one agreeing that Jenna was best laid to rest.

  “She’s gotta be worth something to the dudes on that ranch,” the dissenter suggested. “We should find out how much they’d be willing to pay to get her back.”

  Chaim shook his head. “We got eighty grand’s worth of dope in the back of the van. We don’t need any hassle with slave traders, for the sake of a few grand.”

  “So we shoot her,” Clawfinger concluded.

  “I know you hate her guts,” said Chaim. “But it’d be a criminal waste of an exceptional little slut to put her down like a dog. To tell the truth, I’m beginning to think she might be Queen material. She’s young, beautiful, and I’ve never seen a girl so eager to please. She’s everything Tori used to be, before she developed a smartass attitude.”

  “You’d dump Tori for her!” one of the gang exclaimed.

  “The Queen of a Hell King never gets dumped,” Chaim reminded him. “She fights for her crown. You guys remember how Tori got to where she is.”

  The Kings were not likely to ever forget. Nearly two years earlier, a hot prospect named Tori had fought Chaim’s previous Queen, for the right to take her place. It was the bloodiest catfight the bikers had ever witnessed. Tori had left her opponent half dead. She would have finished her off, had Chaim not intervened.