Rancho Diablo

by Michael O'Connor

  Jenna smiled. “Hi, aunt Tonya. We’re back.”

  Her twin was standing beside her, dressed in laced up knee high boots and a short red dress.

  “Oh my ... oh, Jesus!” the fat woman spluttered, wrenching the vibrator from between her thighs. “It can’t ... it ...”

  “It is,” Jenna assured her. “Did you miss us?”

  “Oh my God, you escaped!” she blurted.

  “You don’t look very pleased to see us,” Jenna observed. “There’s no need to get up. We’ve brought a few friends who have been dying to meet you.”

  With an animal roar, Chaim burst into the room, closely followed by Clawfinger and three more of the Hell Kings. Before aunt Tonya could recover from the shock, the biker Captain had seized her by the hair and started to drag her off the bed.

  “Gimme a hand, Clawfinger,” he grunted. “This pig must weigh a fucking ton.”

  The fat woman started to struggle then, but was no match for the combined strength of three of the bikers. They dragged her to the floor and forced her flat onto her face. Chaim and Clawfinger held her down, while one of the others bound her wrists behind her back with a length of rope. Then, they rolled her over.

  “Christ, what a gross old sack of shit!” Clawfinger sneered. “We ain’t taking her back to the ranch, are we, Chaim?”

  “Are you kidding?” he replied. “We couldn’t give her away as a toilet.”

  “She smells just like a toilet,” Jenna giggled.

  Chaim glared at the twins. “You two, get her cleaned up. Then we’ll see if we can make our journey worthwhile.”

  Grabbing a leg each, Jenna and Zoe dragged their aunt towards the bathroom, across the landing. It was not an easy task, especially as she began struggling and kicking. The Hell Kings watched with amusement, but none offered to help. It was as though they were afraid they would dirty themselves with the unwashed woman.

  By the time they got her to the bathroom, the twins were sweating and out of breath. As they paused to recover, Tonya raised herself to her knees.

  “Why have you come back?” she demanded hoarsely. “If it’s money you’re after, you’re too late. There’s none left.”

  “We don’t - want your - fucking - money,” Jenna panted.

  “What then?”

  With a shriek, Zoe leaped upon her from behind, seized a fistful of her hair and forced her head down into the toilet bowl.

  “Revenge, that’s what, you stinking bitch!” she screamed.

  While she held her aunt down with both hands, Jenna flushed the toilet. Tonya was not in the habit of doing this after every visit, so she almost drowned in a wave of stale piss and cold water. Zoe raised her head, slammed it down into the bowl again and held her there until she started to choke. She and Jenna then pushed the gasping and spluttering woman face down into the bath and turned on the cold tap. Tonya continued to struggle violently as the icy water slowly filled the bath. She was allowed to briefly raise her head, before Jenna pushed her back under.

  Ten minutes later, they decided she had had enough. She had come close to drowning and the Hell Kings would be impatient to get on with whatever they had planned for her. They were waiting downstairs, swigging cans of beer they had found in the refrigerator. It was the most valuable thing their brief ransacking spree had yielded.

  “Bring her down,” Chaim shouted. “The party can’t start without the pig.”

  “Walk down those stairs, you fucking bitch,” Jenna rasped, yanking a handful of her aunt’s dripping hair. “Or I’d be happy to throw you down, if you’d prefer.”

  Though practically sobered by the combination of shock and her cold bath, Tonya seemed to have lost the will for further resistance. She was actually contemplating the possibility of enjoying what lay in store. The bikers were big, mean and aggressive. They would almost certainly gang rape her. Why else would they have wanted her washed? If that was the twins’ idea of revenge, they were not the only ones who would enjoy it. As long as the animals did not kill her, they were welcome to do as they pleased.

  Chaim and Clawfinger seized her at the foot of the stairs and half dragged her into the kitchen.

  “She still smells,” said Clawfinger.

  “She’s a pig, what do you expect?” Chaim replied. He pushed her roughly. “On your knees, piggy. Let’s hear you grunt.”

  Tonya snorted loudly, face to the floor, huge backside thrust upwards. Clawfinger stepped in front of her and unzipped his jeans. She raised her eyes and expectantly licked her lips.

  “Think again, bitch,” he laughed, waving his semi-flaccid cock above her. “Bestiality was never my scene. I do need a piss though and you look like you could use a drink.”

  A golden stream burst from his cock slit and splashed onto the tiles, inches from her face.

  “Lick it up,” he barked, taking a step backwards.

  “Do as the man says,” Chaim added, aiming a kick at her flabby buttocks.

  Tonya stuck out her tongue and began shuffling awkwardly along the floor, licking up the trail of piss that followed Clawfinger, as he continued to step backwards. Chaim kicked her again and commanded her to keep up the pig noises. She obediently grunted through her nose, lapping and slurping up the steaming line of gold.

  “First time I’ve ever seen her clean the floor,” Jenna giggled.

  When Tonya raised her head to snarl a retort, Chaim booted her backside again.

  Clawfinger emptied his bladder and she licked up every drop, her tongue leaving a glistening line on the grimy tiles. He shook the last drops from his cock slit over her face, then zipped up his jeans again, making it clear that that was as close as she was going to get to it

  “Would piggy like to be fucked now?” Chaim demanded.

  “Yes,” Tonya panted, her buttocks wobbling in what she thought was a seductive fashion.

  “Yes, what?” he snarled.

  “Yes, piggy would like to be fucked now,” she grunted. “Go on, fuck me, any way you like.”

  “Not a very ladylike attitude,” he tutted. “You need to be taught some manners.”

  He was about to remove his belt, when he spotted a wet dishcloth in the sink. He picked it up, twisted it tightly, then began whacking her backside with it. Tonya breathed heavily, hairy slit drooling excitedly, as he reddened her quivering buttocks. Seeing how much she was enjoying being smacked, he soon gave up and looked around for a better weapon to use upon her. As if reading his mind, Jenna offered him the mop that stood in a bucket by the door. Tonya did not respond to a whack from the handle with quite such pleasure.

  Clawfinger and the other Hell Kings held her down. Chaim raised the mop high above his head and brought the thick wooden handle cracking down on her buttocks again. His reward was a loud cry of pain. He struck her six more times, then handed the mop to Jenna.

  “Suffer, cunt!” she shrieked, delivering a full strength blow that left a purple welt in its wake and brought forth a yelp from her aunt.

  Eight resounding whacks later, she passed the mop to her sister. Zoe had never punished anybody in her life, but beating the already severely reddened and throbbing rear cheeks of aunt Tonya was shockingly pleasurable and as easy as making love to her own sister. She gave full vent to the rage she had kept bottled up inside her, a fresh memory from the catalogue of abuses she had suffered because of her, lending impetus to each blow. She did not restrict the beating to her buttocks. The mop handle struck her fat thighs and lower legs, bruises blooming in the wake of each blow. Neither Jenna nor Chaim moved to put an end to the savage punishment. As far as they were concerned, she was welcome to kill her.

  When the weapon finally fell from Zoe’s aching hands, several minutes later, aunt Tonya was no longer writhing or moaning in pleasure. The sound issuing from between her gritted teeth was close to a pain wrac
ked sob.

  “You did say you wanted to be fucked, didn’t you, piggy?” Chaim demanded, picking the mop up from the floor.

  “Yes,” Tonya croaked.

  The mop handle struck her buttocks again.

  “Stupid as well as ugly,” he sighed. “I’m your Master, you fat bitch. That means you address me as Master. Let’s try again. Would piggy like to be fucked?”

  “Yes ... Master,” she grunted.

  He grinned. “That’s better. Make those pig noises you do so well. I’m gonna give your pussy something you’ll really enjoy.”

  As Tonya began oinking, he rammed eight inches of the mop handle up between her thighs. When she cried out, he kicked her backside.

  “Keep playing piggy,” he snarled. “Don’t stop ‘til I tell you, unless you want my belt across your fat ass.”

  Tonya snorted and grunted, as he brutally fucked her with the mop handle, delivering each thrust a little deeper into the gaping and dribbling gullet of her sex. Clawfinger balled up the sodden dishcloth and stuffed it into her rear orifice, until it had almost completely disappeared from view. When Chaim tired of using the mop handle on her pussy, he ordered her to be rolled onto her back.

  Leaving the mop protruding from between her thighs, nine inches of the handle buried in her slash, he rummaged in the overflowing sink and found a pair of dinner forks. Handing one each to Jenna and Zoe, he ordered them to go to work on their aunt’s tits.

  “What’s the matter with you?” Tonya screamed. “You don’t have to torture me. Why don’t you rape me, for God’s sake? Fuck me! I’ll take the five of you together.”

  Chaim laughed. “Fuck you! I’d sooner cut my dick off than dirty it in a fat pig like you. The same goes for the others. Why should we fuck an ugly old slack cunted piece of shit, when we have a ranch full of women? Young, beautiful women.” He turned to the twins. “What the fuck are you two waiting for? You wanted revenge, so take it.”

  They did not need to be told again. Kneeling at either side of their aunt, they began raking the prongs of the forks over the mammoth mounds of her breasts, ploughing deep red furrows. Tonya tried not to scream, but could not hold out for long. The sound encouraged the twins to dig even deeper, breaking her skin and drawing trickles of blood. Any misgivings about subjecting her to such torture were swiftly banished by the memory of how she had so gleefully humiliated and tortured them, in what seemed almost another lifetime.

  When every inch of her breasts was gouged raw by the steel prongs of the forks, Chaim told the two girls to stop. He then ordered them to piss on her. Zoe hiked her skirt up over her waist and nudged the gusset of her white lace panties to one side, while Jenna tugged her jeans and panties down to her ankles. They stood over their aunt and directed their two golden streams over her breasts, scalding the reddened and bloodied flesh. The bikers held the fat woman down, one of them planting a booted foot on her face, so that she could do nothing but accept her punishment, with a long moan of agony. Afterwards, two of them relieved themselves together into her mouth, while Chaim resumed the brutal assault on her pussy with the mop handle.

  “I think we’ll take her with us, after all,” he finally declared.

  “What the fuck do we do with a pig?” Clawfinger responded.

  “Tie her up and throw her in the van,” Chaim replied. “I know exactly what to do with her.”

  Later that night, the van bearing the crest of the Hell Kings pulled over to the side of the highway, thirty miles from Rancho Diablo. The back door opened and a huge white bundle tumbled out onto the tarmac.

  “Bastards! Sick, evil bastards!” Tonya sobbed, staggering to her feet, as the tail lights faded into the distance.

  She was completely naked, wrists bound behind her back, breasts roped so tightly, they ached. The rope binding her ankles prevented her from moving at anything more than a shuffle. After a few minutes, she gave up trying to proceed in the darkness and slumped to the roadside, trembling from the cold and throbbing from the torments of her captors. If only she had never sold the twins. If only she had killed them. If only she could remove the wet towel in her bottom and the beer bottle thrust up between her thighs.

  “If only I had a drink,” she wailed.

  An hour later, she saw headlights approaching in the distance, the first vehicle to come her way, in all that time. With a supreme effort, she raised herself to her feet and shuffled out into the path of the oncoming car. It slowed to a halt and the occupants emerged, a few seconds later.

  “Well, what have we got here?” drawled a male voice.

  “Looks like they didn’t want this one,” the other responded.

  “Can’t blame ‘em,” his partner chuckled.

  “Police, thank God!” Tonya croaked. “You won’t fucking believe this ...”

  Jenna and Zoe never found out what became of their aunt, nor did they care. She was one of many nasty memories from their past. Their future belonged to Chaim, as did Rancho Diablo, the place they were now happy to call home. Where once they had been chained to prevent them escaping, they now wore a single chain that joined together their collars, as a symbol of their complete and willing servitude to their beloved Master.

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