Rancho Diablo

by Michael O'Connor

  “Gentlemen, welcome to the Sado Circus. For your pleasure tonight, four young and lovely slave girls have been hand picked to suffer the most degrading and hideous tortures this side of hell. But you do not want to hear me telling you about it. You want to see for yourselves.”

  She called out for her Assistant Mistresses. Two girls in matching black leather basques, laced up boots and studded leather caps, their breasts and pierced pussies fully exposed, joined her in the ring. Their weapons dangled from belts around their waists. One pinned the slave’s arms to the ground, while the other sat on her stomach and pulled her legs apart. The Ringmistress stood over the slave, with her back to the audience, and pushed the pointed toe of her right boot between her thighs.

  “Feel free to approach and take a closer look, gentlemen,” she invited loudly, working her boot up inside the slave.

  The guests entered the ring, in an orderly procession. The Ringmistress buried her foot in the slave, up to the six inch spike heel. The girl was whimpering in pain. When she removed her booted foot from her pussy, several minutes later, the Ringmistress ordered her to be turned onto her belly. She then pushed the glistening toe of her boot against her anus. The cries of the girl became louder, as she forced her boot into her bottom, splitting her cheeks wide apart. The audience stood transfixed. The Ringmistress continued to push, until her heel prevented further progress.

  “Remove her hood,” she commanded.

  The black velvet hood was whipped away, revealing the pain contorted face of Dina. Her torturer slowly withdrew her shit smeared boot, brought it up to her mouth and ordered her to lick it clean. While she performed this task, with less revulsion than expected, one of the Assistant Mistresses repeatedly jabbed her buttocks with a long gold pin, drawing freckles of blood.

  After the Ringmistress’ boot had been tongue polished to its former gleaming glory, the slave was suspended from a gallows by the ankles, legs wide apart. The Ringmistress allowed the audience a good look at her razor whip, before proceeding to flog her thighs and labia with it. Her assistants joined in, by whipping Dina’s breasts with studded leather belts.

  The Ringmistress continued whipping her, until blood was seeping from dozens of tiny gashes. She looked around, to ensure her audience was being entertained. She need not have worried. The looks on the faces of the men told her they were enjoying the show every bit as much as she was.

  “Now, a treasure hunt,” she announced. “For this game, I would like a volunteer from the audience.”

  After some hesitation, a huge bald man in a Gestapo uniform stepped forward.

  “What would you like to do to this pretty slave girl?” she enquired.

  “I’d like to screw the ass off her,” he replied.

  Smiling, the Ringmistress produced a pack of cards, shuffled the deck and invited him to choose one and tell the audience what it was.

  “Ace of spades.”

  She shuffled the deck again, picked a card and, without looking at it, folded it twice. She then stuffed it deep into the girl’s pussy.

  “Hold onto your card,” she told the man. “Now, I do not know which card I have put in her pussy. Would you like to retrieve it and show us all? If it is an ace, you shall have your wish.”

  Even before she had finished speaking, the big man’s right hand was reaching between Dina’s legs. He thrust two fingers into her, withdrew the sodden card, unfolded it and held it up. It was the ace of hearts.

  The Ringmistress smiled. “She is yours to screw. But I feel exceptionally generous tonight and she has been a very bad girl. So, before you screw her, you may whip her.”

  A bullwhip was handed to the man and the three women stepped back. Panting excitedly, he rolled up his sleeves, uncoiled the whip and unleashed a searing lash to the slave’s breasts, the crack reverberating throughout the arena. With a savage relish, he thrashed the helpless and screaming girl, each lash burning a brand on her white skin and several drawing blood. He might have beaten her half to death, had the Ringmistress not called a halt, at the point where the sawdust beneath the swinging girl was speckled red. It would be neither profitable nor wise to allow an over zealous member of the audience to either kill or seriously injure a slave. Taking the whip from the red faced and sweating man, she ordered Dina to be lowered from the gallows. He was then invited to enjoy the main part of his prize.

  The man unzipped his trousers, then lifted the slave by both ankles. The assistant Mistresses stepped on her hands. With a roar, he thrust the full length of his long, fat cock up between her thighs. The Ringmistress grabbed her by the hair and offered up her left boot to be licked.

  After the rape, Dina was put back on the gallows, this time being suspended by her wrists. The Ringmistress and her assistants then proceeded to insert gold pins in practically every inch of her flesh, from her shoulders to her toes. By the time they were finished, she resembled a human pincushion. While the assistant Mistresses stuffed fat black candles into her front and rear orifices and then lit them, the Ringmistress forced a huge pink dildo into her mouth.

  It was time for the next act. The Assistant Mistresses briefly disappeared, then roared back into the arena on a hellish black Volkswagen trike, dragging two naked slaves by ankle chains behind them. The girls were dragged several times around the ring, in order for the audience to smell their terror, then the Mistresses dismounted and unchained them. The younger of the two, a slender brunette of about nineteen, was forced to her knees before the Ringmistress, who gripped her by the ears and rammed the full length of her strap-on dildo back her throat. The second slave, big breasted and blonde, was chained crucifixion style to a huge vertically positioned wooden wheel and temporarily left to contemplate her fate, while the three sadistic women turned their full attention to her companion. While she sucked the Ringmistress’ dildo, her legs were forced wide apart and a steel spreader bar strapped to her ankles.

  This done, the Ringmistress withdrew her dildo from her mouth, slapped her twice across the face, then pinched her nostrils tightly between thumb and forefinger of her right hand. The dildo head was inches from her open mouth. The Ringmistress took a deep breath, before releasing the flood she had been forcing herself to contain within her bladder since midday. The golden stream gushed down her pussy tube, surged through the hollow centre of the dildo and burst through the slit in the end, in a thin arc, directly into the mouth of the slave. She began to choke from the effort of trying to breathe and swallow at the same time. When the piss began running down her chin, the Ringmistress rammed the streaming dildo back into her mouth and continued pissing down her throat, until she was empty. As soon as the dildo was withdrawn, the slave slumped face down in the sawdust, choking and retching.

  The Assistant Mistresses dragged her by the ankle spreading bar across to an iron chair, hanging from four thick chains. The seat of the chair was covered in tiny pieces of broken glass. The slave screamed, first in terror, then in pain, as she was forced into a sitting position. Her wrists were shackled to the arms of the chair, a belt lined with barbed wire tightened around her waist and the back of the chair, ensuring she would be unable to raise her bottom even an inch off the seat. Another dangling chain was hooked to the ankle bar, lifting her legs straight out in front of her. Underneath the chair, a pile of firewood waited to be ignited. While the Ringmistress waited for her assistants to bring her what she needed next, she addressed the audience.

  “In more enlightened times, witches were publicly burnt. Unfortunately, modern society considers itself too civilised for such practises. But civilisation will not be allowed to curb the finest excesses of the Sado Circus. So tonight, gentlemen, for your pleasure and sadistic delight, this fine young witch shall burn.”

  Her final words were rendered almost inaudible by the hysterical screaming of the slave. The audience hollered for the burning to begin. The Ringmistress was handed a drum of par
affin by one of her assistants. She splashed this over the firewood, then took the blazing torch from the other Dominatrix and held it briefly before the face of the screaming slave, before touching it to the paraffin soaked firewood. The flames erupted with a WHOOSH, yellowy red tentacles licking at the steel base of the chair. The seat was several inches thick, so it would be some time before the girl felt her backside beginning to roast. In the meantime, her companion on the wheel awaited torture.

  The Ringmistress mounted the trike and gunned the powerful engine, drowning out the screams of the slaves. Her assistants attached steel toothed clamps to the nipples and clitoris of the girl on the wheel. The attached long chains were then hooked to the rear end of the trike and the Ringmistress accelerated, yanking the chains taut and almost ripping the clamped flesh from the girl’s body. She looked back, to make certain she had not overdone it, then inched a little further forward. Even above the roar of the engine, the screams of the slave became audible. Her heavy breasts were stretched grotesquely out of shape and her clitoris resembled a stretched piece of pink chewing gum.

  Cutting the engine, the Ringmistress dismounted and nodded to one of her assistants, who unclipped what looked like a giant pair of handcuffs from her belt. She and her companion clamped these shut over the slave’s breasts, then began slowly turning a butterfly nut on either side. The chrome clamps tightened over the girl’s tortured globes, until they could be squeezed no further. They were now crimson and bizarrely misshapen. In between screams, the girl whimpered for mercy, though she knew she could expect none.

  The Ringmistress beat the slave’s breasts with the studded side of a thick leather paddle, while her assistants dripped molten candle wax onto them. When they were covered in mushrooms of wax and livid from the beating, she produced her needle shooting blow gun.

  After the clamps had been removed from the slave’s nipples and clitoris, the assistant Mistresses cranked up a generator and threw a nearby switch. The big wheel began to rotate, slowly at first, but gradually building up momentum. As the screaming girl spun round and round, the Ringmistress crouched a few yards in front of her, spitting needles from her tube as fast as she could load it. Few of the sharp projectiles missed their target. Following five minutes of shooting, the speed of the wheel was gradually wound down again, until it creaked to a full stop.

  The slave was now upside down, with dozens of tiny silver arrows protruding from her flesh. There were several in her face. Most of the remainder were in her breasts. The clamps were once again attached to her nipples and clitoris. One of the assistants then emptied two full bottles of champagne into a three gallon plastic drum. While a long black rubber tube was inserted in the slave’s anus, the Ringmistress invited a few volunteers from the audience to complete the filling of the drum. Several rushed forward, eagerly unzipping their trousers. Gathering around the drum, they urinated into the champagne until it overflowed.

  The Ringmistress placed the drum in front of the slave, screwed down the lid and pushed through the other end of the tube dangling from between the girl’s thighs. She planted her right foot on the plunger and pressed slowly down. The golden cocktail of champagne and urine surged up through the tube and into the bowels of the girl, who could only protest by whimpering loudly and violently tossing her head from side to side. As the container emptied, her belly swelled noticeably. By the time all three gallons of fluid were inside her, she seemed ready to burst.

  The Ringmistress wrenched the tube out of the girl’s anus and she and her assistants stepped back. There was a loud belch from the girl’s bottom, followed by a spectacular golden brown geyser that sprayed six feet into the air above her. Her anus emitted a series of staccato splutters as she sprayed out the filth, which rained back down on top of her. When it was over and the girl was dripping, the audience loudly applauded the depraved spectacle. The Ringmistress bowed, then grabbed a fistful of the slave’s hair and jerked her head upright. She knotted her hair around the chain of the breastcuffs, so that her chin remained pressed against her chest. An assistant wiped the slave’s bottom with a fistful of toilet tissue, which she then stuffed into her mouth.

  “Let us see how the main dish is coming along,” said the Ringmistress.

  The slave in the chair was now howling incessantly, as the seat beneath her turned red hot. She was a lurid shade of pink and drenched in sweat. The Ringmistress signalled to an assistant, who handed her the paraffin drum.

  “Barbecue time!” she cackled, splashing cold liquid over the screaming girl.

  Terror caused her to lose control of her bladder. As the urine flooded from between her thighs, it hissed and turned to steam on the hot metal seat.

  “Fire!” the Ringmistress shouted.

  She took the blazing torch, waved it before the slave, then briefly touched the flame to her belly. The girl’s shriek was deafening, but she did not go up in flames. She was not to know that the “paraffin” splashed over her had only been water.

  After her screams subsided, when she realised she was not about to suffer a hideous death, she was released from the chair and laid face down on the sawdust for inspection. Her buttocks and the backs of her thighs were beetroot red and radiated heat. They were pockmarked with tiny lumps of heat blackened glass. She sobbed uncontrollably, as much from relief as pain. Her wrists were lashed with leather thongs to two wooden stakes in the ground, then the Ringmistress picked up a long whip. While she mercilessly flogged the slave’s burning nether cheeks, her assistants held her down. The whipping continued until blood began to seep from her buttocks.

  “And now, gentlemen, we come to the highlight of tonight’s entertainment,” the Ringmistress announced, planting a spike heeled boot between the slave’s shoulder blades. “The youngest and most beautiful slave you have ever seen is about to suffer tortures beyond her worst nightmares. Mistresses, bring her down!”

  A trapdoor opened in the roof and a huge glass bowl on a round copper plate slowly descended. The plate hung from four chains attached to a pair of hooks. Inside the bowl, a naked and terrified Zoe was curled into a foetal ball. Her wrists and ankles were in chains. The plate was lowered to within three feet of the ground, then the Ringmistress shouted an invitation to the audience.

  “Gentlemen, step forward and relieve yourselves into the slave’s bowl. Don’t stampede. You will all get your turn, I promise.”

  Six stepladders were positioned around the bowl and the first six men in line ascended. Zoe stared helplessly up at their leering faces, saw their cocks being drawn and held above her. Six hot golden streams jetted down, splashing her from head to foot. She shut her eyes and mouth, so as not to swallow or be blinded.

  The procession of men seemed infinite. Soon, Zoe was up to her chest in urine. When the hot flood lapped against her chin, she tried to rise, but only succeeded in sliding against the glass and rocking the bowl. Urine continued to rain relentlessly down on her. Raw panic seized her, but she was too constricted to even thrash about in the bowl. When the urine level reached her nose, she was left with no choice but to open her mouth and swallow like a fish. Throwing back her head and keeping her eyes shut, she desperately gulped down the deluge from half a dozen cocks. From that point on, most of the men aimed for her mouth, preferring to see her drink their piss than drown in it.

  It took over an hour for all seventy men to empty their bladders, by which time only Zoe’s nose and mouth were above the urine level and her stomach felt so full of the hot, salty liquid that she wanted to vomit. When the last man had stepped down, shaking his cock, the assistant Mistresses moved the ladders away and the Ringmistress stepped forward, brandishing a bullwhip with a heavy steel ball on the end.

  “Time to release the little pissy fishy,” she cackled.

  The whip whistled and the steel ball struck the toughened glass of the bowl, with a resounding clang. On the fourth lash, the bowl exploded and fell to the gro
und with a loud shriek, in a shower of piss and glass particles. The assistants removed the shackles from her ankles and hauled her to her feet. As she stood dripping and trembling in the spotlight, whips were drawn by her three captors.

  As one, they began flogging her. She danced and shrieked, the trio of whips savagely biting her flesh. But whatever way she attempted to flee, there was no escaping them. Finally, she sagged to her knees, screaming for mercy. The ferocious whipping continued unabated, even when she was rolling around on the sawdust, maddened with fear and pain and bleeding in several places.

  “Enough!” the Ringmistress shouted, at last. “Throw her to them.”

  Zoe was dragged from the ring by the two Assistant Mistresses and thrown to the ground before the men.

  “Take her as you please,” the Ringmistress told them. “She belongs to all of you.”

  Like a pack of feral beasts, the men fell upon Zoe. She screamed piteously as countless rough hands mauled and pulled at her. The sound was abruptly cut short by the thrusting of a hard cock into her mouth. Two more simultaneously penetrated her front and rear.

  While the Ringmistress stood watching the rape orgy, whip in hand, her assistants untied and dragged the other three semi-conscious and bleeding slaves from the ring. Zoe could not be seen beneath the mass of grunting, writhing and thrusting male bodies. The Ringmistress did not intend to call a halt until every one of the seventy men had satisfied himself with the helpless girl. She prayed they did not seriously injure or kill her. Throwing a slave to the audience was a risky business, and Zoe was her prized possession.