Whiplash! Page 3

  Rylee felt the unmistakable thick roll of his shaft under her bottom, which was tender from three days of riding. Although she did not really understand the extent of what was happening, she thought Richard had tried to orchestrate some way to get rid of her and her mom, and somehow the plan had backfired on him. The look of terror in his eyes as he lay in the constrained arch on the floor was not an act.

  Marcy tried not to cry. She wanted to be strong for Rylee, but her frazzled mind, which never was any good at handling stressful situations, was causing her to shake with fear. She was beginning to understand what these men meant to do to them, and she could not figure out a way to help her daughter, much less herself.

  “Marcy, let’s see how well you’ve kept that body up. It’s easy to see Rylee has inherited that magnificent chest.” Carlton let the thumb on the hand resting under the girl’s heavy breast stroke up over her nipple, and as he felt the rubbery protrusion stiffen through the light cotton shirt and sport bra, he had to hold her steady when she began to struggle again. “Sit still, Rylee.” He pinched the stiffened nub and she squealed through the horrible rubber ring holding her mouth open.

  Carlton upped the ante. “Marcy, if you don’t get that top off now, I’ll rip off Rylee’s shirt.” His hand moved to the collar of the girl’s blouse, and his cock jerked at her whimpering. She was going to do nicely.

  Marcy uttered a sob and her trembling fingers reached for her buttons while she searched the room for someone to help her. Even the guide, who had led them up the mountain, was focusing on her heaving chest with a lascivious leer. She cried silently as she began to unbutton her shirt, knowing it was impossible to try to escape and leave her daughter behind.

  When the last button was unfastened, Carlton bellowed, “Get that fucking thing off, now.”

  Marcy jerked at his demand, and quickly threaded her arms through the sleeves and let it drop to the floor. Her chest rose and fell rapidly, looking as though her twin mounds were going to burst through the thin lace of the underwire bra.

  Carlton was losing patience with her, though her fear was an unexpected bonus. He figured she would be a fighter, all curses and claws, especially after the earlier display with her husband. He noticed Hank seemed to be paying particular attention to the woman, and wondered if his foreman would be interested in her. He had traded his former slave to the labor camp and did not want Amber, so he was still looking for a companion. “Hank, perhaps you should help our reluctant model?”

  “Yes sir, Mr. Prescott.” Hank strode quickly over to Marcy’s side, reached his hand through the clasp at the base of her cleavage, and ripped the thread of material open. Marcy tried to bat his hands away while she wailed, but he managed to easily slide the straps over her arms.

  While she crossed her arms over her chest and tried to cover her breasts, Hank reached for her belt. Marcy cried louder and dropped an arm to slap at his hand. Hank laughed and one of the ranch hands called out, “My money’s still on you, Hank.”

  Carlton’s thumb continued to stroke Rylee’s nipple, and he whispered, “You know, of course, it doesn’t really matter how agreeable she is. You’re going to be standing just as naked before us, after she’s done.” Her garbled whimper was delightful, and he used her frightened struggle as another reason to pinch her tightened nub again. While she watched her mother stripped, she thought of her own impending humiliation. “Hank, it doesn’t look like Marcy’s going to help you. Jeffrey, toss him some cuffs so he can get her hands out of his way.”

  Jeffrey helped Hank get Marcy’s flailing arms secured behind her back, and latched a collar around her throat. He dropped the ankle cuffs on the ground until Hank got the woman’s boots off. “Jeffrey, why don’t you give me a hand with these. I don’t need that pointed toe landing in my balls so I don’t get my turn at her,” Hank grinned.

  Marcy was beginning to understand they were talking about having sex with her, and when they pushed her to the ground, she tried to kick out at them. Hank placed the flat of his big hand across her chest and pushed her onto her back. With her arms pinned beneath her, it was impossible to stop them as they removed her boots, unbuckled her belt and lowered her jeans and panties, slapping her thighs when she thrashed her legs.

  Marcy wailed from her place on the floor, and Hank reached into his pocket and retrieved the thick rubber ring. Marcy tried to turn her head when he approached her with it, but he merely gripped his fingers around her throat and squeezed while his intense dark eyes stared into hers. Marcy felt her lungs begin to burn, and she knew he was not going to release his hold until she allowed him to place the device in her mouth. As the lightheadedness fogged over her brain, she opened her mouth and felt him maneuver it behind her teeth. He released his grip on her neck and studied her.

  If Mr. Prescott let him have her, he would have Doc put a permanent ring in her mouth. He had no use for her words, but he thought she looked quite arousing with her big, blue frightened eyes and her mouth waiting to be filled. The more he watched the tormented woman, the more he convinced himself Mr. Prescott would let him take her, because the age that most of the rest of them considered a detriment, was actually a turn on for the foreman. He liked the added jiggle to the slight sag of the breasts and bottoms of the older women when they were whipped. Hank stood and left Marcy lying on the carpet, trying to curl up into a ball to hide herself from the leering eyes of the men in the room.

  Rylee sobbed while she looked down at her poor mother, naked and crying on the floor in front of all these cruel men. Something inside her snapped, and without warning she pushed herself forward and forcefully drove her head back into Carlton’s chest. The move surprised him, and he momentarily lost his grip on the small girl, and she tried to bolt off of his lap towards her mother. Both Rylee and Marcy were barely five three, a full foot shorter than Carlton, which was why her head slammed into his chest and not his face.

  He grabbed her hair and yanked her back onto his lap, and when he once more had his arm wrapped under her chest, he followed through on his threat to tear her shirt off of her. He looked down at her heaving chest, and stroked his fingers down her bared stomach. “Tommy, bring your knife over here.” Carlton instructed the cowboy to cut through the stretchy cotton bra, and Rylee frantically kicked out at him as he tossed it away from her. “Might as well get the rest of it,” Carlton said. Tommy’s hands bent to remove her boots, carefully regarding her flailing legs. Carlton grabbed her bared nipple and squeezed painfully, mashing the tender flesh.

  Rylee had never felt such pain as the strong calloused fingers caused when they pressed the tip of her nipple flat. She shrieked and forced herself to sit still, and pleaded garbled words for the big man to stop. Across the room, her mother lay curled into her own degradation. Rylee’s eyes widened in disbelief as the cowboy approached her with a leather collar. She screamed while he secured it around her neck, and once more the fingers pinched her sensitive bud until she was still.

  Tommy bent and had to fight to get cuffs secured onto her ankles. “She‘s a strong little thing, Mr. Prescott,” he grinned.

  “Bind her to the chair for me,” Carlton ordered. “All this thrashing about is getting tedious.” Rylee sobbed in humiliation as the strong man hooked her ankle cuffs to latches screwed into the legs of the chair. Sitting on the tall rancher’s lap with her naked sex spread before the staring eyes of the men in the room had her racked with pitiful wails. Carlton was delightfully aroused, and if she had been further into her training he would gladly spend the rest of the evening with his cock buried deep into her quivering ass. There was much more entertainment for his guests to enjoy that would leave all the men needing the relief of a slave this evening.

  For the guide’s benefit, he turned his attention to Richard. He knew the gruff old man preferred humiliating men. “Mr. Tyler, I know the man is now yours, but it hardly seems fair to leave him out of this evening’s festivities.”

  “Your absolutely right, Carlton. What did you have
in mind?” Aaron asked.

  “Henry did such a good job getting them here, why don’t we reward him by letting him strip your slave?” Carlton chuckled, “Of course, we’ll all get a good look at that useless, soft body of his… but, if you don’t mind?”

  “Not at all. Besides, we have a way of firming them up at camp.” Aaron Tyler, the northern patriarch, was used to taking the lesser slaves, and his clan actually enjoyed torturing them into shape and forcing responses from them. Even the other clans might wince at some of the methods they employed.

  Richard shrieked when Henry approached him with a knife to begin cutting off his clothes. “You did promise me a man,” Aaron laughed. “He screams louder than his wife.”

  “Whether or not he’s male, will be determined shortly.” Carlton watched Richard’s ineffectual struggles and the tears coursing down his face while Henry quickly cut through his clothes. Henry had to unhook his legs to get his boots off, but Jeffrey helped him get cuffs on the man’s ankles and reattached him into the hog tied position. When Richard was lying naked, Carlton said, “Turn him over so we can see if he comes complete with a package.”

  Henry grabbed Richard by his collar and pulled him closer to his wife in the middle of the room. He rolled him onto his back so he was lying on his wrists and ankles with his thighs spread and his shriveled penis flopped down onto his equally shriveled balls.

  “Not too impressive,” Aaron noted disdainfully.

  “Hank, why don’t you have Marcy encourage her husband to show us what he can do?” Carlton suggested.

  Hank smiled, grabbed the woman by her collar and placed her between her husband’s legs. He began to force her ringed mouth towards the wrinkled meat, and she wailed and tried to turn her head. Hank glanced up at his patriarch, waiting for permission.

  “Use whatever method you think will work, Hank. I’m afraid Marcy is a little pissed off at her betrothed right now, and reluctant to help him display that little twist between his legs for us.”

  Hank licked his finger, and Marcy felt it plunge into her ass. She screamed and tried to wriggle away as she heard a zipper lowered behind her. Hank’s eyes narrowed in appreciation at the wiggling ass presented to him, and he said, “I think I can get her to comply with your wishes, Mr. Prescott.” He placed his hands on her rounded hips and plunged deep into her rectum, savoring the tearing tight muscles and piercing shrieks. The patriarch had to let him have her. “Get your mouth on his cock, bitch, and I’m pumping your ass until you get him hard.”

  Hank began a rhythmic push, forcing himself to go slow and enjoy her torment. With Rylee wailing in Carlton’s lap and trying to turn away from her mother’s degradation, and the couple beneath them on the carpet sobbing equally desperate cries, all the men in the room were wishing they were in Hank’s place, relieving their engorged rods.

  “There, there, Rylee. It’s nothing mama hasn’t done before,” Carlton murmured. His own cock was almost bursting, and wedged firmly in his denim beneath the trembling ass spread on his lap. He continued to torture Rylee’s nipple while his other hand began to stroke her pussy. When his fingers trailed the length of her slit, he was amused to find how quickly she lubricated. He would decide later if it was due to the degradation of the evening, or if his simple stroking aroused her.

  Marcy lowered her head and fed her treacherous husband’s cock into the ring. The pain in her bowels was agonizing, and her only thought was to get Richard hard so she could stop the excruciating stretching and pushing in her bottom. If not for the ring, she probably would have bitten the withered member that refused to thicken with her bobbing head and stroking tongue. This went on for several torturous minutes with barely an occasional jerk from the flaccid organ.

  Carlton called over, “Henry, work your magic. Poor Hank’s in crisis, over there.”

  Several of the men laughed at Hank’s reddened face, as he struggled not to cum before the woman completed her task. Henry smiled and knelt beside the man. He was an expert at getting the slaves to waggle for the patriarchs, and reached his hand under the woman’s bobbing chin to roll the man’s soft balls. Without further warning, he inserted a calloused digit deep into the man’s ass and searched around for his prostrate. Richard screamed behind the gag, but Henry found the little walnut and began his surprisingly seductive stroking, forcing Richard’s balls to tighten and his cock to finally rise.

  Carlton said, “Aaron, it appears your new slave prefers the attention of men.”

  “I’m sure we’ll have no trouble accommodating his needs,” Aaron chuckled. “No wonder the marriage was disintegrating,” he added.

  “True. Marcy, dear, this might not have been your fault, after all.” The miserable woman was paying no attention to Carlton as Hank began his final deep thrusts and the pain caused her to alternate her screaming with agonized gasps. She had voided her husband’s cock from her mouth, and with her hands bound at the small of her back, her head rested on Richard’s hip with his stiffened cock inches from her squeezed closed eyes. Hank finally groaned his release and she felt the hot spurts deep within her tortured channel. He grabbed her by the collar and tossed her off her husband.

  The men had a good laugh over Richard’s less than imposing length. Aaron ordered, “Bind his hands to the front.” Henry left his ankles latched together, and Jeffrey helped him re-secure his combative hands together in front of him. They dragged him back to Aaron and pulled him up into a kneeling position. Aaron hooked a finger through the collar loop and pulled his head until he was facing him. “Keep that little cock of yours hard, slave, or Henry will be glad to fuck you just as enthusiastically as Hank worked your wife.”

  Richard’s penis was already beginning to sag in fear, and his hands wrapped frantically around his flesh and began to tug. He had no doubt the sadistic man would make good on his threat, and he concentrated his efforts into keeping himself stiff while the cowboys focused on Marcy.

  The only way Rylee could try to avoid the fingers working up and down her pussy was to push into the rancher’s hard shaft. The fingers followed her movement, and she tried shifting her hips to the side. It was no use, and the fingers stayed on her spread flesh. She was certain her nipple was bruised, and her sobs were causing a hitching motion as she stared at her mother who lay curled and crying on the carpet.

  “Hank, do you want the woman?” Carlton asked.

  Hank’s lust filled gaze had not left the miserably shuddering woman on the floor. “Yes, Mr. Prescott. She might have some age on her, but I think she’ll be a challenge to train.”

  “Very well.” Carlton knew this would not be a great disappointment to the other clans, as Marcy was probably headed to a camp labor cage if she had not been selected. The other patriarchs had filled their selections with the last batch of captives that had arrived. “I think the group would like to welcome them to their new life. Everyone looks as though they could use a little relief.”

  “Yes, sir. I’ll get her presented for them,” Hank answered.

  Aaron flicked Richard’s dwindled cock, and turned towards Henry. “As my new slave has decided to disobey me, I suppose we shouldn’t leave poor Richard out of the fun.”

  “Yes, Mr. Tyler,” Henry answered. He hoped he would be rewarded with first shot at the arrogant man. The former lawyer’s superior attitude had irritated him on the way up the mountain.

  Hank and the guide moved a long low bench to the middle of the room, and Henry mirrored the ranch foreman’s actions with Marcy by dragging Richard over and bending him over the wood. Their collars were secured to one edge, keeping them bent over. Marcy felt her ankles spread and her ankle cuffs secured to ends of a rod. Richard was secured into the same position, and his high pitched muffled squeals rang through the room as he realized his vulnerability. His wife kept moaning, “No, no, no,” through the ring gag.

  Richard was now wailing through his opened mouth. With the man, it was not a question of ‘if’ he would be receiving a permanent ring device, o
nly ‘when’. Aaron knelt before his new slave’s gaping mouth, and was rewarded with a fresh round of squeals when he unzipped his pants to free his aching erection. Aaron gripped the sides of Richard’s secured head and looked over at Carlton, who seemed to be enjoying the wriggling movements of the bound girl in his lap. “Carlton, if you’re sitting the initiation out, I’d like to give Henry the opportunity to christen the man.”

  The new slaves all went through this defilement unless, like Rylee, they had been claimed by one of the patriarchs who were present. “That’s generous of you, Aaron, and I’m sure Henry would appreciate it.”

  The trail guide was ecstatic. As an older member of the clan and regulated to the boring task of guiding the new captives to the retreat on the mountain under the watchful eyes of the ranch hands hidden along the trail in the trees in case there was a problem, Henry was not used to train anyone any more, other than an occasional misbehaving labor slave. “Thank you, Mr. Tyler,” he quivered.

  Richard panicked and tried to clench his spread ass cheeks when he felt the man kneel behind him. His garbled protests were gagged as he felt the cock thrust into his mouth, and Aaron closed his eyes and savored the vibrations of his screams when Henry plunged deep.