Rancho Diablo

by Michael O'Connor

  The iron door slammed shut and he was gone.

  “Just you and me, slave girl,” Troy smirked. “Go ahead. Make me tell you what really happened to your stupid sister. I’m shaking in my boots.”

  “You don’t think Chaim will really let you go free, do you?” Jenna responded. “He’ll blow you away, just like the rest of your fucking Masters.”

  “And you’ll never find your precious sister,” Troy finished.

  Jenna saw the movement of his right foot, but did not react quickly enough to avoid the kick that caught her full between the thighs. She fell to the floor, with a cry of pain.

  “I’m still the Master,” Troy laughed. “You should have kept running, while you were able.”

  Jenna crawled out of range of his boots and staggered to her feet.

  “Try a taste of your own medicine, MASTER!” she snarled, grabbing a bullwhip from the wall rack.

  The whip sliced the air and exploded across Troy’s hard muscled belly. He roared with laughter, rather than pain. She lashed him again, using every ounce of her strength. But, though the whip burned his flesh, she might as well have been striking him with a feather duster. He actually seemed to enjoy the pain. His huge cock gradually swelled, rearing its bulbous head in response. After two dozen lashes to his chest and belly, Jenna began whipping him from behind. She flogged him until she was out of breath and could no longer hold the whip.

  “That felt good!” he boomed, beads of perspiration running from under the brim of his hat. “Maybe you’d like to suck my cock now. Really make me beg for mercy.”

  “You’ll beg for mercy alright,” Jenna vowed. “Just as soon as I’ve tied you up properly.”

  That was a more difficult proposition than she had bargained for. Even though Troy could not use his hands, his boots remained lethal weapons. She took three savage kicks as she hugged his left leg and attempted to slip a noose around his ankle. She eventually succeeded, pulled the rope tight and secured it to a steel hoop in the wall. Roping his right leg proved even more hazardous. One well aimed kick caught her in the chest and knocked her flat on her back. Shrieking with rage, she leaped back up and brought her right foot up between his legs, from behind. Her boot slammed into his testicles, causing the air to whoosh loudly from his lungs. She was sorry she had not thought to kick him there in the beginning. It would have saved her a lot of pain and trouble.

  “Not so mighty now, Master!” she sneered, when she had secured the second rope, pulling his legs wide apart.

  His eyes were glassy and he was trembling from the nauseating agony in his balls.

  “You’re as good as dead, slave girl,” he gasped. “I’m going to crucify you, for real.”

  Jenna shook her head. “Oh no. What you’re going to do is tell me where I can find my sister. Your slave trading days are over, shitface.”

  “You wish,” he grunted. “When your boyfriend doesn’t find the cash he’s looking for, he’ll come back here and I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse. A partnership in Rancho Diablo, in exchange for your pretty white ass. Do you really think you mean that much to him, that he could turn down an offer like that?”

  Jenna wasn’t sure. But she was determined to use all the means at her disposal to break the leering Slavemaster. For herself, as well as for Zoe.

  She inspected the array of torture equipment on the racks around the dungeon. Every whip, chain and devilish device brought back horrible memories of how she and Zoe had suffered at the hands of Troy. It was difficult to choose something appropriate for the beast. Her eyes came to rest on the metal headed dildo that had once been forced into her pussy.

  “Let’s start with one of your favourites,” she said, holding up the dildo and unwinding the flex.

  “You’re only making it worse for yourself,” he growled, though with considerably reduced bravado.

  Standing behind him, Jenna pushed the dildo head against his rectum. He grunted. She pushed upwards. He clenched his teeth, to prevent a roar of agony, as the phallic weapon was forced up inside him. Jenna rammed the full length up between his tight buttocks, then clipped the control box to her belt, switched it on and pressed the red button. Troy jerked, as a bolt of low voltage current shot through him.

  “Hurts, doesn’t it?” she said, keeping her finger on the button. “Changed your mind about talking?”

  “Get fucked,” he hissed.

  Outside, the motorcycles had fallen silent. Shrieks and jubilant cries filled the night air, as the Hell Kings lustily enjoyed their helpless slave herd. Several girls had managed to discreetly break from the sea of flesh and crawl towards the corral, where the trio of roped hooded Masters stood. They were outnumbered two to one and no longer held any fear for the slaves. They were the ones now in terror for their lives. The slaves advanced on them, suddenly hungry for revenge. One of the men stumbled in the near darkness and fell flat on his back. Immediately, a trio of enraged slaves fell upon him. A moment later, a howl of the purest agony split the sounds of the nearby orgy.

  Chaim had so far failed to locate a safe, or a hoard of cash in the ranch house. But he had found the drinks cabinet. As he took a long swig from a bottle of vintage cognac, he looked around him. He was beginning to think Rancho Diablo might be worth more than a flying visit.

  It would take more than an electric dildo up his backside to break Troy. He spat on Jenna, as she attached a pair of steel clamps to his nipples. She kneed him in the crotch again and tugged hard on the chain dangling from the clamps. Still, he emitted no more than a groan and a curse.

  She knew she must hurry. Chaim might return at any moment. When he did, he would want to make a fast getaway. Worse - he might have changed his mind about dealing with Troy. Either way, she would have lost her chance of finding Zoe.

  The branding iron had been placed in the brazier, in preparation for the new arrivals. Jenna wrenched it out and held it inches from Troy’s face. He jerked his head back, showing genuine fear, for the first time.

  “Last chance,” she said. “Where’s Zoe?”

  “Somewhere you’ll never find her,” he gasped.

  Without another word, she raised his flaccid cock by the foreskin and stretched it against his belly. She touched the red hot branding iron to his fat shaft, then pressed. Flesh sizzled and smoked and an agonised bellow burst from his lungs. Jenna kept the branding iron pressed against his cock.

  “Stop!” he screamed. “I’ll tell you.”

  She drew back the smoking iron. The centre of the Rancho Diablo brand was burned black into his tattooed cock flesh.

  “Where is she?” she demanded.

  “The Sado Circus,” he croaked. “Oh Christ, my cock! Aaaahhhh ...!”

  By the time Chaim returned to the dungeon, five minutes later, Jenna had all the information she needed. Troy was sobbing softly and thrashing in agony against his bonds. Jenna was holding a pair of metal tongs between his thighs and brushing his scrotum with a red hot coal.

  “I know where Zoe is!” she cried, dropping the tongs. “We can be there in a few hours.”

  “We’re going nowhere tonight,” Chaim barked. “I’ve been thinking. With these weird fuckers out of the way, there’s nothing to stop the Hell Kings taking over this whole operation. The law sure as hell won’t. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea of going into the slave trading business. Hear that, big Master? You’ve been taken over.”

  He picked up the shotgun and took aim.

  “Please don’t kill me,” Troy whimpered. “You want this place, it’s yours. I told her what she wanted to know. You don’t have to shoot me, for God’s sake!”

  “He’s right,” said Jenna. “Why waste a bullet on this piece of shit? You could throw him to the slaves instead. I’m sure they’d love to pay him back for all his kindness.”

  “Might be
fun,” Chaim mused. “There seems to be some blood sports going on in the corral already, with the rest of his gang. Alright, Slavemaster, you’re coming for a walk with us.”

  With a rope around his neck and his wrists chained behind his back, Troy was led naked into the yard by Jenna. Chaim followed right behind, pressing the shotgun into his back.

  “Round up the slaves,” he shouted, firing into the air. “We’re gonna play a new game.”

  Using their guns and whips, the bikers herded the slaves into a huddle in the centre of the yard. The six that staggered from the corral were covered in blood, though little of it was their own. Beyond the barbed wire fence, three dark bundles lay unmoving on the ground.

  “Alright, slaves, listen up,” Chaim bellowed. “As of now, the Hell Kings are your new Masters. Rancho Diablo has been taken over. This here piece of shit ...” he prodded Troy with the shotgun ... “is out of business. Hell Kings, step back and form a wide circle. There’s gonna be some medieval entertainment.”

  “Please don’t do this,” Troy begged. “They’ll tear me to pieces. I’ll give you anything. Anything at all.”

  “We’ve already taken everything,” Chaim replied.

  The bikers circled the yard, weapons poised, eager for the commencement of bloodsport. Jenna removed the rope from around Troy’s neck.

  “Slaves, you shall now have the honour of doing whatever you damn well like with your former Master,” Chaim announced. “Call it a goodwill gift from the Hell Kings.”

  With a kick, he sent Troy sprawling face down in the yard. A few slaves circled him uncertainly. Raising himself to his knees, he stared up into the hate filled eyes of the girls he had so enjoyed torturing and humiliating. They seemed reluctant to attack him, still gripped by the fear he had beaten into them. As he rose shakily to his feet, one of the new arrivals stepped forward.

  “You don’t look much like a Master to me,” she spat, slapping him across the face. “Come on, Master, punish me.”

  Two more slaves grabbed him from behind and wrestled him back to the ground. That broke the spell and unleashed the pent up fury of the herd. The shrieking slaves clawed at one another, as they fell upon their helpless tormentor.

  For the first time in her life, Jenna found herself relishing the agonised screams of another human being. The slaves were like a wolf pack, all eager to tear a piece out of their despised Master. The Hell Kings roared with delight and fired their guns into the air. Jenna and her Master watched the carnage from the porch. She looked up at him, with eyes full of love. She had so much to thank him for. Soon, Zoe would too.

  Chapter 16

  The flag of the Hell Kings fluttered on the flagpole, along with the crest of Rancho Diablo. In the five days since the raid, the new order had been firmly established by Chaim and his gang. There would be no freedom for any of the slaves, though their new Masters did not treat them with the same savagery as the old.

  Jenna was tormented by anxiety about her sister. Chaim could not be persuaded to ride to her rescue, until he was fully settled into his new role as Master of Rancho Diablo. Jenna did not press the issue. With a herd of over thirty attractive women for him to choose from, she could scarcely afford to take her status as Queen for granted. She would just have to be patient. Only when he found the number of the Ringmistress on Troy’s computer database did he finally decide to make his move. There was suspicion in the voice of the Dominatrix, as she answered his call.

  “Rancho Diablo is under new management,” he explained. “Otherwise, it’s business as usual.”

  “What happened to Troy?” she demanded.

  “He’s moved on,” Chaim answered. “Had a little slave trouble he couldn’t handle. I have something here I think you’ll be interested in.”

  “I don’t need any more slaves, just now.”

  “This isn’t just any old slave,” he insisted. “What I’m talking about is the other half of a perfect pair. Young, blonde, pretty. Ring any bells?”

  “You have her twin!” she exclaimed. “But how? I thought she was dead.”

  “Let’s not concern ourselves with the how,” Chaim replied. “The question is, do you want her for your Sado Circus?”

  “Is she in good shape?”

  “Perfect shape. A set of twins would be a real attraction in your show.”

  “How much?” she cautiously demanded.

  “You’ll find her a real bargain,” he promised. “Are you interested or not?”

  “I’m interested,” she answered. “But you will have to bring her to me. I’m far too busy to go on a shopping trip.”

  “No problem,” said Chaim. “I can deliver her, tomorrow afternoon.”

  After he put down the phone, he looked at Jenna. “You heard that. I’m taking you to meet the Ringmistress.”

  Early next morning, they departed in the van, leaving Clawfinger in charge of the ranch. One biker travelled up front with Chaim. Jenna was in the back of the van, with three other Hell Kings, bound and gagged, as befitted a slave en route to a new owner. It took them over four hours to reach their destination.

  From the outside, the lair of the Ringmistress was not impressive. The huge grey building resembled an abandoned warehouse, in the middle of nowhere. Around it stood a high metal fence, with signs warning trespassers to keep out. It looked like the last place on earth to find the Sado Circus.

  A skinheaded female guard, dressed in khaki and with a pistol tucked in her belt, approached the gate. Chaim stated his business and she consulted the Ringmistress, over a walkie talkie. After several anxious minutes, the gate was opened and the van proceeded to the rear of the warehouse. The Ringmistress was waiting, along with two more combat clad girls, eager to inspect the new arrival. Chaim noted that these two were also armed.

  “At long last, I get to meet the legendary Ringmistress,” the biker Captain grinned, stepping out of the van.

  “You’ve brought the slave?” she demanded, warily eyeing him.

  He walked around to the rear of the van and flung open the doors. Jenna lay naked on the floor, her wrists and ankles roped to two wooden poles. She was gagged with another rope bound tightly around her head. Seeing the trio of armed men accompanying her, the Assistant Mistresses reached for their guns.

  “Tell your girls not to panic,” Chaim told her. “The boys are just a little extra security.”

  “You have a lot of security for one slave,” the Ringmistress remarked.

  “This is no ordinary slave,” he replied. “She broke out of Rancho Diablo, remember, and managed to survive nearly a month in the wilderness, before we recaptured her. Best take no chances. That’s my motto.”

  “Bring her out and let me take a good look at her,” the Ringmistress demanded.

  Jenna was lifted up by two of the bikers and placed standing in the centre of the yard. The Ringmistress inspected her closely, probing and squeezing, as if to make sure she was real.

  “She is the perfect likeness of her sister,” she finally declared. “They would certainly make a fine combination for my circus. But I am curious as to how she ended up in your hands. Even more curious as to how you came by Rancho Diablo.”

  “Ringmistress, I don’t ask any questions about your business,” Chaim curtly replied. “I’m offering you this highly desirable slave for your collection. If you want her, let’s talk cash. If you don’t, I have plenty of clients who will.”

  “Don’t be so hasty,” she retorted. “I would not have told you to bring her here, if I did not want her. But in this line of business, one cannot be too careful, as I am sure you appreciate.”

  Chaim smiled. “Point taken. Now, shall we continue our discussions inside?”

  “The guns stay outside,” she said firmly.

  The Ringmistress led the disarmed men through a dimly lit section of th
e warehouse, that contained most of the equipment used in the Sado Circus. Jenna shivered, as she was dragged along by a pair of Hell Kings. Her reaction was due to more than just the chill in the air. What if Chaim betrayed her? Perhaps, instead of rescuing Zoe, he would sell Jenna to the Sado Circus. After all, he was a slave trader now, and the Ringmistress was sure to offer him a good price for her. She could only pray that possessing both sisters would mean more to him than a thick wad of hundred dollar bills.

  The Ringmistress led them through a steel door and down a short flight of steps, into the circus ring.

  “This is where it all happens,” she said proudly. “So far, I have had two spectacular shows. Our little blonde beauty is just in time for the next one, four days from now.”

  “Very impressive,” said Chaim. “You keep the slaves here?”

  “I have cells downstairs,” she replied. “Along with other - facilities. I shall take you on a tour later on, provided we can reach agreement on a price for this little bitch.”

  “Twenty thousand,” he demanded.

  “No way,” she flatly responded. “I bought her sister for less than half that. Eight thousand is more than enough, even for her.”

  Chaim looked around. He saw that all three guards were in the ring and appeared to have somewhat relaxed. Jenna was standing near a wooden cross that lay flat on the floor, flanked by two bikers.

  “Seems we’re in for some tough negotiations,” he said, touching the gold ring in his left ear.

  That was the prearranged signal for the Hell Kings to act. The guards were taken completely by surprise, as the bikers leaped upon them and wrestled them to the ground. One managed to draw her gun, but it was knocked from her hand before she could use it. In the same instant, Chaim drew a knife from his right boot, seized the Ringmistress and held the blade to her throat.

  “Now we do business,” he growled. “One move and I’ll cut you from ear to ear.”