I was on my knees, my tail reared up high in the air, ready for the descent of the lash. I undulated my bottom, wiggling it in a manner designed to attract the hot lusts of my stepmother.
Ruth was over six feet tall, a towering figure of an Amazon. She was one of those legendary domineering Amazons, a cliche in the flesh, but totally real and totally alluring. Her long lustrous brown hair fell in cascading, blowing waves to her thighs, rolling and billowing in the breeze wafting through the open windows. Her hair sometimes concealed her naked breasts from my bold eyes, at other times those alabaster globes were entirely revealed to my entranced stare.
Those breasts were unbelievable. They were large, bouncing masses of soft tissue, all snow white, big pendulous but upright growths with huge nipples. The nipples were a shade of light purple, big coronaed masterpieces with large full peaks, nipples all of three inches in diameter. I loved to suck on them, nursing for hours at a time upon those mammoth tits.
Her body was clad in red and white fur boots, up to her mid-thighs. Her arms were laced within black leather gloves that ran up from fingertip to shoulder without a wrinkle. Her pussy patch, a mass of twisting and wild growing locks of brown-red fur, was fully revealed to satisfy the hunger of my gaze.
"Can you tear your eyes from me for one moment, you impudent little girl?"
Of course, I was not a girl at all. I was a boy, Richard, transferred into Rachael, a juicy blonde with big foam rubber tits and a cute derriere that was always well marked by her stinging lash. Still, I would not have readily traded places with the so-called free. I wanted my wild and wanton stepmother most of the time, and I was willing to take the prizes she handed out on her own terms.
She pointed to her boots, at the same time laying her whip across my soft seat, cutting a long red stripe on the twin spheres. My ass heaved, a small breakage in the welt line spilling out a few drops of the red and wet, which I could feel running down my rump.
"Get over here boy, and lick my boots clean," she commanded in a voice which offered me no alternative except obedience.
I hastened over to her, wiggling my tail way up high, for the ritualistic stinging of her hand up and down on my cheeks all through the process of licking her boots to a high shine.
The red leather was soon mirror-like in its reflecting properties. I experienced a pleasant tickling sensation when the fur fringes rubbed my face. Also her hand was stroking through my long hair, and down the nape of my neck. I tingled to the flaying of her other hand upon my reddened ass. Up and down repetitiously, again and again, beating the pain into my butt.
I was unaware that I was being spied upon. The thing about freakiness and kinky sex is that it is still frowned upon by the great unwashed majority, the so-called straights. The asylums and the prison institutions are full of the uncool who made the mistake of being seen in the wrong acts by the wrong people.
My high school was one of those schools in the process of disintegration known as being part of the changing times. In other words, the shitheap was in the hands of the students, or rather the particular in-group that ran the underside of the pop scene in our town. It was one of those mid-Western towns that was caught up in the drug and cycle scene. Going through the Hell's Angels gambit.
In any event, our high school, which I shall leave nameless, since this information is totally irrelevant, was run in fact if not in theory by The Scorpios. The Scorpios were an elite group of shitheads. Athletes were out, what the Scorpios had going for them were drugs, sex, and their choppers. If you could keep clear of them, you were cool. If not, you could get your ass in the shit pretty far.
I was the school enigma. I kept to myself, with my weird family, and they could not figure out my scene. Except that I looked like a broad, was scared shitless of any act of violence, and did not fight back when my ass was worked over by some dude.
I was raised to be effeminate and weak most of the time. Not all of the time, my stepmother had ideas about manhood, and she did not want me to be a transvestite loser all of the time. But I never showed any of this in school, I was under orders to keep well clear of trouble and relationships with my peers. I lived my life at home, and what went on there was secret.
But when you're different, and do not try to conceal it, sooner or later you are going to rouse the suspicions and the curiosity of those who make it their business to pry out the hidden.
Now, our estate had been invaded, and over on the far side of the grounds near the lake, away from the house, using field glasses, these bastards were watching everything that was going on. It was a balmy early summer day of the year, and the windows were all open. I shivered with the wind sweeping over my bare tail, but stepmommy loved the feel of that cool wind blowing between her ass cheeks, and making her hair rise and blow, uncovering her tits in a very attractive way.
But Comanche was training his glasses on me, cursing under his breath as he focused in on my tail under the hands of my stepmama rising and falling, turning a darker shade of red.
"Look at that," he said to his fellows. "I told you that little fairy was a queer. The bastard, so much better than the rest of us. Never a word to say, too good to talk to us. He's a little freak, that's what he is."
"Give me those glasses," George demanded, pulling them away and feasting his eyes on the bizarre scene. His pecker began to stiffen, and his balls stirred to the wildness of the little episode he was a secretive witness to. He began to go hard erect, and he could not tear his eyes from the bobbing tit meat of the huge brunette, wanting to get it on with her more than he had with any broad he had ever seen.
Comanche--a.k.a. Ted Bannon, was the leader, and he could not tolerate the grabbing of the glasses from his hands for a number of reasons, the primary of which was the maintaining of his sphere of authority.
"Give those back here," he snapped, snatching them away and giving his buddy a backhanded slap that sent him reeling, mouth bloody from the cutting of heavy rings across his lips. Ted had hit him hard enough to teach him a lesson, but not hard enough to make it a matter of face so that George had to get it on with him in a standup fight.
"Hey man, you cut me'."
"Don't let a little blood scare you, brother. Like if you want to hassle with me, let's get it on, right now, baby."
Dave cut in, feeling the mood building to a rumble. "Hey, cool it you two guys. Let's not waste any of this opportunity. They won't see us, they're too busy getting their jollies off. Let's get in close where we can all see what's coming off."
There was unanimous approval of this, and the dirty pack began its prowling creep up to our stately domain. They were a sneaky bunch of bastards.
I, of course, knew nothing except the heating of my balls, the hardness in the marbles and the desire to get it on with my stepmother. I had a boner that was ready to take off and walk away from me. I mean, that hardon was growing with every smack of her hand on my ass.
"Do you want it, little Rachael," she asked, pounding my tail to a crimson smear.
"Yes, yes, you know that I do."
"Well, we'll see what kind of mood I'm in when I finish with your disciplining." She snickered, her dirty little bad bitch laugh. She liked to tease me, to play with my emotions when she had me so hot and bothered that I couldn't see straight.
Outside the house, they had all drawn close, and now they were clustered under some trees in the protective embrace of the foliage, watching my ass jumping and heaving under the flailing of those hands over my hot tail. I was covered with sweat from the pounding of all that painful sting into me, and I was clearly showing with my bouncing around, and all of my panting and moaning, the mixture of ecstasy and suffering that I felt.
"Far out," Kioga exclaimed. "I've heard of this kind of shit, but I've never seen it."
"Yeah, me neither," Dave commented. He began to roll one of his famous neat roll home grown joints, but his boss-man leader slapped it from his hand.
"This is no fucking time to light up and get high, you idiot. Don't any of you clowns realize that this little fairy freak goes to the same shit-ass school we go to, and we see this little creep every day?"
"So what's the big deal?" asked Kioga. "Hell, I hardly ever go to school, and I don't remember the last time I saw you there."
There was a round of laughter that quickly died down under the wrathful stare of the leader. "Keep quiet you assholes. You want them to hear us? Keep it down low."
"Okay, so what's the big deal," Dave asked. "Hell, we go stomping around scaring the little old grannies, popping pills, smoking grass, and making gang-bang poppings with our broads. So he likes to put on silk stockings, a bra, and get his ass broken by his mother. What do we care anyway?"
That was a sensible, civilized attitude, but it was not the opinion of the leader, and in that kind of a setup, participatory democracy was not the thing to hang out in front.
"He's a creep, and a smartass. He's got all this, and he's not one of us. Now we found out for sure that he's a fag. Well, if he wants to play that way, he can put out some ass and tongue for us."
I was working on Ruth's cunt by now. Her big vulva lips were giving off a scent that dragged me into the richness of her pussy meat like a fly attracted to a Venus flytrap. I was sucking and chewing, letting my tongue slosh in and out of that box, drinking down the trickling flow of her hot churning juices. I was hungry for the wonderful taste and scent of her, and she was satisfying that hunger to the best of her ability.
"Look at that little bastard eat her," murmured Dave, sweating like a pig, his pants bulging with the eruptive force of his large erection. "Jesus, I gotta get some action tonight. Hell, I need some now. Somebody open their mouth and I'll whip it out."
George gave him a swat on the ass with his leather quirt, one of the cycle bad-guy ornaments he sported to show what a bad man he was. "Shit, let's go in there and take that big bitch."
"Oh man, let's take the both of them," somebody declared. "He can eat my asshole while I screw his old mother."
He got a lot of funny looks for this, but the bossman had some ideas of his own.
Comanche gave his a whop on the arm. "That's not a bad idea at all. Hell, there's nobody else around here, just the two of them. We could rip their meat off for the fun of it. I want to sink my dick into that big bitch, and fuck her until her ass falls off."
"Hey man," Dave whispered, a qualm of fear in his tone. "You're talking about rape."
Comanche turned around and showed him the colors on his back. "Hey man, what do we wear these things for? So we'll look like a bunch of stupid clowns. We're the Scorpios, baby. That means we do what we want, and take what we want. We're looking at a couple of freaks. We can do anything we want with them. They'll probably love it too. Now let's quit talking out here like a bunch of idiots and get in there where the ass is."
"That big bitch looks mean."
Comanche slapped himself on the forehead in disgust. "Hell, I don't believe this. So you bastards are scared of that big bitch. Well, we're ten to the two of them, and I want something long and wet around my cock. I don't care right now if it's mouth, cunt, or ass. I want to stick my gun into something."
Dave smiled. "Hell, that big piece of meat must have a forty-two inch set of knockers. What a pair of tits. And her ass is just about the biggest I've ever seen. I'm going to whip her with her own whip, I'm gonna rip up that big ass of hers and make her like it. Let's be the bad toughass mothers we're supposed to be. Let's get in there and take some of those goodies."
If I wasn't looking at this whole thing from the other end of it, I would have agreed that they had the right idea. You never have any fun by letting the goodies slip away.
They came waltzing in through one of the back windows, sneaking on sneaky soft feet, up to where Ruth and I were getting our rocks off. I had my mouth so tight up to that gash of hers that I wouldn't have heard a bomb drop.
"Isn't that nice?"
The sound of that voice and all of the whooping, snickering, and wild laughing almost made me take a piece out of that quim. I instinctively jumped around behind my stepmother, trying to hide myself behind her big body.
"Hey, you little fairy queer," Comanche roared at me, his face contorted with hatred and disgust. "Let's see you eat her slimy snatch out some more."
Mother put herself between me and them, arms at her sides, legs spread wide. They all had eyes for her, drooling at the mouth looking over her astonishing body. Now that they were inside, they could get a real, first hand, close up look at her fantastic build. Her body was one great swelling, vibrating mass of energy and dynamism. Big tits, above a narrow, hard-packed and slender waist. Great rolling and swept-sculptured hips and thighs, all perfectly proportioned, but along massive lines. And her height, over six feet tall without shoes.
"What do you bastards want," she spat out at them. Her hands closed around a chair, which she hoisted over her head. "I'll give you to the count of ten to get your asses out of that door." She was an imposing sight, and the easy way she handled that heavy chair must have made them think. I mean, even in a mob like that, somebody would have to be the first one to close with her, and maybe get a broken head. Why be the bastard with the cracked skull, when your buddies are the ones who get all of the goodies you lost half of your brain matter for?
Comanche took the lead, shouldering up to the front, and laying some sounds on her, to get his piece without sweat.
"Big Mama, you look like you can handle yourself with that thing."
"Yeah, man. You want to try me out."
"Lady, you outweigh any bitch I've ever seen. You stand an inch higher than me. You look like a mean witch, and I'm not going to risk my ass with you. We can take you if we want to." He whipped off the chain he wore as a belt. "But we don't want to get hurt taking you. So we'll give you a choice. If you fight us, we're going to hurt you good. I'm gonna lay that big whip of yours on that fat ass. And I'm gonna shove that little fairy boy of yours right up your cunt for a present, headfirst, if you cooperate, we can make this pleasant. The choice is all yours, lady."
CHAPTER TWO
Of course, I turned sick at this threat. The others were making licking, sucking faces at us, making obscene threats with hands and mouths. They were whipping out belts and chains. Two of them picked up pieces of furniture to threaten us with.
"Rebecca--I mean Richard--get up beside me."
Her slip of the tongue broke them all up. I literally slunk out from behind her and up to her side. She gave me a pinch on the soft spanked globe, right in the center, and I perked myself up and got into a fighting stance. I got into a gung-fu posture, although I had never used it in a real fight. They all laughed, thinking I was putting them on. I knew that a weak, soft boy-girl like me could not put up a great battle, but I knew a little bit about defending myself.
"What's he trying to be, the big bad karate ace, the little fag."
"He knows enough to put you in traction. And I can break your ass a dozen different ways," Ruth declared. "I'm not going to spread my ass for a sniveling little scummy stinking pack of trash like you. Little fucking punk bastards, you think you're some big, bad gang. I think you all eat shit. Now get out of here before I call the cops."
Bannon put his hand over his ear as if he had not heard her right. "You're gonna call the cops and tell them you dress up your stepson like a girl and make him eat your cunt while you whip his ass for him?"
They were all laughing now, and it was an ugly sound. I was sweating and shaking, and I was trembling in my now ridiculously useless gung-fu stance. I knew that we were trapped all of the way. I also knew that my stepmother wasn't about to feed us on a platter to those creeps. She was going to fight.
Her eyes took in the whole scene. The pack was ready to spring. So she just heaved the chair right into them without a word and no sign of what she intended to do. She caught them by surprise, as she had expected. She sent two of them toppling, and then she was after that whip she had discarded on a sofa that was behind the pack, her one chance against them.
"Take them Richard."
There was a loud sound of animal hate from the Scorpios, and they were all over us in their cycle leather, and I had a flash of their colors and their patches, and the ugly, mean faces.
She went through them like a knife thru butter. One hand downed a bastard, and a backhand snapped another off her back. She hit that Comanche head on. He cracked a fist right into her jaw. She staggered, his rings ripping her face. Then she smashed two solid crunching blows into his mouth, and he went flying with his teeth pouring out.
I gave one bastard a basic gung-fu fist hammer in the belly, and another one a backhanded claw punch to the base of the neck. Neither went down, I just didn't have the power to down them. Then I was clubbed in the groin and smashed in the mouth, and dragged along by the hair, my head rammed into the wall. I went down then, my defences crumpled.
I didn't see Ruth fighting on with the whole pack clubbing and pounding at her. She caught hold of two of the creeps and cracked their heads together. Then she lunged through and was at her whip on the sofa. But she never got a chance to use it. Four of them were piled on her back, and they dragged her down, punching and clubbing her. They pinned her to the floor, tying her hands behind her with a heavy chain and a strap.
"We got the bastard bitch, we got her," crowed one of the victors.
I was dragged over by the cheek of my ass and the mop of my hair. I was sick and weary, and my mouth was bleeding. I was scratched, bruised, and cut, and the blows were hitting me everywhere.
Comanche had a wild, insane look in his eyes. He hauled himself to his feet, his blood pouring into his hands clasped to his broken mouth. I felt a surge of dark despair, knowing that he would take it out on us, his teeth spilled on the floor.
He walked over to a mirror and stared in disbelief, finally convincing himself that all of his front teeth had been punched clean out at the roots.
"Haul that fucking bitch to her feet and hold her," he screamed with a distorted, lisping gap-toothed voice.
Still defiant, my mistress of delights and cruelties was dragged erect, her hair disheveled, her face bloodied, hands at work on her flesh everywhere, groping, feeling, kneading.
He stood before her, staring into her face with venomous, vengeful hate-filled eyes. Then he hauled off and sank a belly crushing shot into her tummy. Another and another, belting her in the stomach, sinking his fists into her almost up to the wrist, his muscular arms pumping as he set himself to deliver the punches from the backs of his heels.
She wilted, doubled up, her face contorted in agony, her body breaking under the assault. He punched her tits, landing the shots with all of his might, making the big boobs bounce and shake. He punched up shattering uppercuts into the undersides of the tits, almost tearing them loose from the spasming torso. He hit her in the face, making her bleed from nose and mouth, darkening the skin around the eyes.
"Bitch, dirty bitch," he howled, hitting her open handed blows that made her face snap from side to side, the claret flying from her nose and mouth. He slapped her tits, her neck, dug his nails into her breasts and ripped bloody, jagged claw marks up and down her soft skin. He crushed the tits in his hands and pounded them together with smashing violence, his body sheened with the sweat of his efforts. He took her nipples and dragged at them, almost pulling them loose.
All of the time blows were raining on her ass. They were all aroused to a peak of lustful sadism, especially those who had been banged up in the fight. Her ass was coloring under the crack of straps and chains, those holding her arms well clean of her back to avoid the flailing of the weapons that hit her rump.
I had a cock in my mouth. One of the bastards could not contain himself any longer. Shouting that since I acted like a bitch he could treat me like one, he put his hot, hard, smelly piece of meat into my mouth and pumped it back and forth, cursing shrilly, while another bastard was whipping on my back and ass with his strap.
My poor queen, the glorious and incomparable Ruth Handle, was now being whipped front and back. That bastard, Comanche, was whipping her tits with a strap, hitting them cutting strokes from the side, half coiling his strap around the spheres, making them bounce and heave, the blood flowing from the hurt boobs. He was cutting her up and he was enjoying it all. She was in a bad way, and out the corner of my eye, as I agonizingly ate cock, I could see them cutting her up. Her long and massive body was streaked now from neck to ankle with red stripes, blood oozing from many cuts and flowing freely down her sweat sheened hide. They were giving her the works, and she was in a bad way.
This wasn't enough for the supremely vengeful Comanche-Ted Bannon. He was still spitting out blood, and rueful running his tongue along the spaces where he had once had a mouthful of shiny white teeth. Those things don't grow back, and he was going to make us regret his loss.
"Put that little fag across the couch, and let's see how talented his asshole is."
I was still getting a mouthful of hot cock. I was sucking it all of the way back, almost suffocating on that big head wedged all the way at the rear of my mouth. I gagged on an explosion of hot come, just buckets of it all cascading down my throat. The limp and flaccid, diminishing cock was taken away, and I received a few slaps on the mouth for my efforts.
I was thrown down across the arm of the couch. A hand with a heavy, studded strap rose in the air, poised over my shivering ass globes. The bloodied spots of the whipping I had taken from my stepmother stood out in contrast to the pale skin, attracting the stinging tearing of the whip on my ass. The bastard brought the strap down, the studs ripping along the smooth skin, splitting it apart, spilling out a prodigious load of hot blood. It splashed out of me, and my body wracked and shuddered. My futile screams reverberated through the empty house. There was nobody there to help us. Alicia and Roger might have been some help, but they were not there now, and that was that.
Our bottoms were whipped to shreds, two of them working on Ruth while one whipped my butt. Her bottom was lashed until there was not an inch that was not lacerated, mangled, and covered with blood.
"Let's get our things into this bitch."
At the command of their leader, the Scorpios put Ruth on her back. Two of them held her legs wide spread, another was pinning down each powerful arm. They had freed her arms just for the fun of letting her struggle against them.
One by one they fucked her. Cocks reamed in her mouth simultaneously with the cracking of one prick after another into the depths of her pussy. She was in extreme pain, and they were going at her hot and heavy without letup, one after another. Her pumping pain-lanced ass was leaving heavy bloodstains on the floor.
I had my own problems, for they were also using my ass for a fucking hole. My bottom throbbed to the penetration of one prick after another, splitting my raped bottom hole open, distending and burning it with friction. My membrane was raw and flayed, and the pumping was brutal, careless designed to make me suffer. I was in a bad way, and still there was no letup of the continuous assault.
My stepmother was in far worse shape. They did not give her a moment's peace, but kept at her until her cunt was so sore and battered from the fucking that a bit of blood began to appear in the pourings that dripped out of her ravaged hole.
She was lifted to her feet, dribbling come out of her mouth and snatch, eyes glazed and her spirits broken. She was bent over a chair, and her ass was burned with lit cigarettes. Comanche used them, puffing the end up hot, and then dabbing her on the bloodied behind with it, thrilling to the searing round marks he left on the quivering raw ass. He kept on burning her again and again, the pattern of burn marks becoming the initials of his first and last name. He extended his craftsmanship down her thighs, and he burned the insides of her thighs, and her calves. Her body still quivered with every touch, but her eyes were unfocused, and she seemed to be drifting away from it all inside her own mind.
"This bitch is in bad shape," cautioned one of the less brutal of the Scorpios. "We had better be careful we don't kill her."
With his bloodied, broken mouth, and pure hate gleaming in his dark eyes, Comanche spun around and decked him with one crushing shot. That put the shocked silence on all of them. They could see that he was not fooling around, not in any way.
He turned back to his two victims, his eyes blazing with hatred and fury. I feebly quailed under the menace of that stare of his. He really had it in mind to hurt us, and I knew that none of the others would lift a hand to stop him from doing so.
He now turned upon us, his hands making a whip out of two lengths of chained belt which he strung together. I don't know why he didn't use Ruth's handy whip, but I suppose he was so enraged at the ruination of his ugly mouth that he wanted to get into her with something vicious and clumsy that he had put together himself.
He really had the power to hurt us, with that thigh he had put together. He lashed out with it, sweeping it across my chest. I saw flashes of light, and experienced the shattering sensation of having my chest split in two. Jagged chunks of lacerated flesh were left in the track of that monstrous whip, and I crumpled, tearing at the bleeding wound, which was the target for one series of blows following swiftly upon another.
My stepmother had her mouth filled with hot cock, pumping the heavy spurting seed down into her guts. The slime of spittle and sperm swirled in a mix churning up out of her mouth and running along her face. It excited the freaks who were mouth fucking her, they dug down into her all the more fiercely.
I was placed on my belly, my groin mashed in a pair of hurting hands which mauled and mashed my genitals, rubbing them to a hot pulp as a cock was buried all of the way in my sore ass once again. I was split in two, my buttocks torn open and my insides gutted. In and out, up and down, the big body bounced upon my tail. I was in extreme agony, and the pain of that weight digging down into all of the bloody spots on my bottom was even worse than the agony of the gouging fuck up my ass.
The creep who called himself Comanche and his two right hand bootlickers, George and Dave, seized my stepmother by her long mass of hair and the patch of spiralling lush growth between her legs and swung her up into the air by her hair, the hair between her pumping legs tearing loose as she kicked and struggled against the oppression of their actions. They slammed her against a wall, just bouncing her off the wall by the swing of her hair, her big body crumpling in an unconscious heap. She could have broken any one of them in half in individual action, but against the whole pack of them she had not any chance.
Still unconscious, she was kicked and beaten by the vengeful Scorpios. They were smoking pot and other mixes, and drinking too. Their faces were flushed with cruelty, and they were out for blood and not caring too much on the condition they left us in. We were helpless against them, and there was nothing at all that could be done. I was only hoping that they did not go all the way and kill us in their sadistic excitement.
Hot matches brought my stepmother around. The matches were placed between her toes and then lit, the old fashioned hot foot. As her skin singed she came around kicking out and rolling about. A cigarette was doused on her nipples, a small knife nicked her rump. Her ass welts were kicked and ground down under leather boots that rained blows without mercy upon her.
There was the sound of a car in the driveway. That restored them to sanity, the thought of being caught at what they were doing. How quickly the spirits of a mob change, and they all wanted out of there and fast.
"Come on,". Comanche said, fixing at the front of his mouth with his hands, ruefully rubbing at the gap where his teeth had been, "Let's get the fuck out of here, before we get in trouble."
It was a ridiculous statement, considering what they had done to us. But they took off, which was what we wanted, and we were left to await the shocked arrivals of my stepsister Alicia, and my stepbrother Roger. Needless to say they were in for a rude surprise, and despite the blood dripping from my wounds, I must admit to a sardonic amusement at the expression on their faces.
CHAPTER THREE
Of course, things had to change after that. I did not return to that school, we gave out with some bullshit about a private tutor for me. It sounded logical enough, and nothing more came of it. The Scorpios spread around a watered down version of the events that had occurred, concentrating mostly on the facts that I was a queer and my whole family was perverted.
We did not, of course, care what the town thought about us. We had money, which meant that we would not be bothered. We had other things to concentrate upon, such as our vengeance.
We held councils of war once the repairs of my stepmother and myself had taken, and the injuries were fading away. To a family like ours, to our kinky minds, this called for vengeance without fail. We could not allow the Scorpios to get away with this. But it called for cleverness and discretion, as they were part of the real life of the town and difficult to get at. Also they had us outnumbered. But we were determined to extract the blood debt from them.
Many a night I lay in the arms of my blond stepbrother Roger, made up as Rebecca, long golden hair trailing down his back, our wonderful Alicia whipping red and raw our twin palpitating and eager asses; thinking, thinking, planning and scheming. Of course, the battle plan as worked out came from our mistress, Ruth. This was only the right way of it, and nothing else would do.
"We are going to rip the asses off of those dirty bastards," she raged. "Especially that leader of theirs. The son of a bitch." She looked down at the still visible burn marks on her nipples, and swore again at him, still cherishing the thought of how his teeth had cracked under the impact of her blows.
"If there weren't so many of them, we wouldn't have any trouble," Alicia commented without adding anything to help us.
"But there are a hell of a lot of them," I said. "That Comanche has this whole school in the side of his pocket. He's the one we have to get."
Mother thought for a time about this. Then her face began to show the shaping of the plan in her mind, and I knew that things were going to happen soon.
"He must get bored with this shitass town. Those bikes were meant for going places. He must have been to a few of the bright spots with that wolfpack of his, Richard."
"I don't know all that much about those dudes. But they do take off every now and again. Sometimes only a few of them, sometimes the whole herd."
"A kid like that Comanche. He could just take off one day and never come back."
I thought about it. "Not a bad idea. We could get our hands on the pig and make it look like he just took off for Frisco."
"Something like that. We might get a bunch of them that way, without the rest suspecting a thing. Most of them looked as if they would have trouble adding two and two properly."
"No heavy thinkers in that bunch. We could lure that creep in with Alicia, she's the type that psycho goes for, anyway."
Alicia was a lithesome, sensual, voluptuous contradiction. She was thin and not too large, a blonde and cat-like 18-year-old spitfire. She was small-boned, but her tits and her ass stuck out half a mile. She would have attracted a crowd anywhere, and in that small town she had the studs sniffing around her tail all of the time.
"We could use that, all right. A little ruse to draw him in," Ruth mused, hitting me lovingly on the ass to show she was pleased with the solution I had come up with.
"Well," Alicia pouted, "I don't like it one fucking little bit. I seem to be playing the part of a decoy, a piece of meat hung out for the lion." She showed her displeasure by beating on my ass with her fists, hitting me until I was ragged and bloody. She could be a rough bitch when she felt like it.
"We're going to use you. And it shouldn't be so different from the way you usually behave." Alicia was the outgoing one. She was also outgiving. She had allowed half of the hands in that town to wander over and explore her ass and tits. It was what she thrived on, feeling up games. She loved to put out and it would have taken some kind of mental case to turn her down. She had taken more cocks in hand, mouth, cunt, and ass than I had. Which was saying a lot for her endurance. But unlike me, she played with local talent.
"You're on baby," stepmother assured her. "Just see to it that you do your job well, because I want that creep's ass."
I was glad we were finally going to put something into action and get this vendetta under way. It was impossible living in that house until Ruth Handle had taken her revenge upon the Scorpios.
Alicia was a good lure. She knew the way to suck those bastards in all right. She had been aloof, but now she went out after the local meat. She took to hanging out her ass at this pool hall where the creeps congregated. It was a shitass excuse for a poolhall, but they were doing the funky motorcycle scene, and for that you need a poolhall to hang out your body at.
Comanche took notice of her immediately. He was doing his trick shots with the stick, and she impressed the shit out of him the way her nipples were outlined against the front of her blouse. He was playing it cool, the biceps bare, living up to his image.
"You have a good hand with the stick," she said to him, opening up the game. Her hands were sort of fluffing up her shirt, and he was noticing every movement of every part of her body.
He looked at her quizzically, his brows knotting with the abused effort to think. "You're one of those Handle kids, aintcha."
That was the word he used, a deliberate dropping of grammar in honor of his own funky image. She nodded her head, giving him the eye as well, while his roamed all over her curves.
"I could be."
"Well, if you are, what are you doing over here?"
He laughed and the others laughed too, evil dirty laughs, showing that they knew all of our filthy little secrets, clean living people that they were.
"Oh--I don't care about what happened. It didn't have anything to do with me. I'm the independent type. Besides, I find it all a little bit exciting. Do you dig what I mean, Comanche?"
"Yeah, I dig it, baby."
He reeled her in like the movies show it and gave her a wet, sloppy kiss, giving her the full effect of his bad breath.
Alicia took it without showing him the real effect it had upon her, and rubbed her front crotch area into the tightness of his skin-tight pants. He immediately had a large lump at the front of his pants, and she looked down at the bulge and whistled.
"That is one hell of a bump you got there, big man."
That of course was the beginning of it. She got in close with them after that. She took to hanging around with the group, putting out a little for Comanche, and getting the Scorpios the good dope. She also did a lot of talking around the whole group about taking off for some place bigger than the fly speck they were festering in, and she got the dummy to go along with her talk, thus setting up the theory to come that he had taken off for better places.
She got in close with his two buddies too, George and Dave. We wanted the three of them, the minimum group for our vengeance. We would have taken them all if we could have, but that kind of greed would have gotten our asses in the shit again. We just didn't have any chance of pulling off a snatch like that one.
So a few weeks went by, and it was all set up nice and neat, while they just fell into it, the assholes.
Our girl, Alicia, was jiving them up with talk about wild parties in the house, things she did when the whole family was out, just her alone and some special friends. And she let the two sidekicks know about those friends, the way she described them, telling all of the fucking and sucking details of those two bitches, the fools had their tongues dragging.
Eventually, it was Comanche himself who brought up the idea of a private party, just Alicia, her two friends, and the three of them. Alicia went along with it, thinking it was one hell of a first rate idea, telling the fools that she could set it up, and her friends wanted very much to get together with them. And so, we pulled them in and hung them out.
They came down one day for the orgy, the three of them, not knowing what was coming down on them. We had the thing a secret, since they couldn't let fly to the others that they were going to groove in their own private little party.
We watched them come on up to the house. I was in my high drag, wearing dark sunglasses so that all of my little secrets were not exposed by recognition. My blond hair was covered and merged with a longer blond wig, and I was really too much. I let them come in, thinking how they would go for me. My brother was a brunette, his jewels hidden under strapped-tight gauze, just like mine. He had on hot pants in contrast to my mini-skirt, and our bodies left all of the non-essentials hanging out, while concealing the giveaway little signs.
"We have them," my stepmother muttered, her face flushed with the fury that compelled her to go on for her vengeance despite all dangers.
Swaggering and confident, horny and eager, they pawed and fingered my darling sister's ass, Alicia dragging them on, letting them fall into it. She toyed with them, pulled out her bouncy globe-tits and let them ricochet in and out of hot hands.
"Easy boys, we're ready for it. Come on in, my two friends are waiting for you. They really want to meet you, I've told them all about you."
My mother made herself invisible, merging into the walls via the hidden panels, ready to spring out when she was needed.
"Come over here, Ted," Alicia said to the leader of the greasy trio. "I want you to meet my two friends."
She brought him over, the two tail walkers following behind, eager to trip up over his legs. They were practically drooling from the mouth, so hungry were they to get at us. We sucked them in good and proper, and I was calculating how best to begin the ass breaking on them.
I walked up to George and kissed him flush on his half open mouth, giving him a lot of the tongue. He tasted of mouthwash, and I grabbed his pecker and felt it grow in my hands, his breath expelling from the aggression of my advance. Sweat began to crystallize on his forehead and you could almost hear his cock talk.
"You are a big one," I said, feeling up his bare muscles. He had himself decked out in the stomping togs of the cycle cult, all denim and leather, bands on the wrists and across the biceps. He gave me the hot eye, running his eyes all over my body, thinking that he had a feast awaiting him. He cupped my hips and felt my flanks, sinking his hands into my ass after going all around my thighs. I pressed my knee between his legs, rubbing it into him and stimulating him to even greater horniness for me.
I kissed him on the chest and put my mouth to his armpit, letting my tongue sweep in and out of the hairy patch. I dropped my hand into his pants, making him go hot and bothered. He knew what I wanted.
My brother had the other one going. He put both hands under his pants and began to swish his ass. He kept the animal's hands away from the unreal parts that he displayed, and turned him on by some aggressive groping.
"You girls are too much," Comanche said. He looked all ready to stick it into someone, preferably Alicia.
"Come on, let's light up," I said.
This was part of the plot, the sticks we lit for the bastards contained some little essential extras guaranteed to make them easier to handle. But this was a well-conceived plot, and it all went the way we had planned it. Comanche was tripping on the stuff I lit for him. He offered it to me, but instead I played with his prick, grasping it in my hand and giving the big jerk hot and fast, with both hands. I had his cock so big in my hands that I could scarcely grasp it.
"You girls don't waste any time."
We passed them around, stripping them naked, taking turn and turn about tearing off their clothes.
"Come on, you wild chicks," George whooped. "We do you next."
I pulled off his pants and gave his cock a few rapid up and down jerks at the same time. He almost shot off, and he had a look on his face like he was going to explode.
"I can't take this any more," he cried, pulling me in close and peeling down my shorts. Out popped my cock, wrapped behind the gauze to keep it flat. He stared at it for a time, before realizing what the hell was coming off.
"Hey, fuck, you're--you're a guy."
"Right on, motherfucker," I replied, whipping off my wig.
"You're that little faggot, Richie," snarled Comanche, trying to clear the cobwebs from his fucked up mind.
"And you're shit," my mother snarled, coming out from her hiding place.
"Hey, what kind of shit are you people trying to pull on us?"
Mother spread her hands wide in innocent disavowal of his threats.
"What kind of shit would we be trying to pull on friends like you?"
"Hey--we're not friends," George said in a thick voice, pushing away my brother, who had peeled off his things to reveal his true maleness.
"You're so fucking right about that," I growled, surprised at my own ferocity. "You're as right as you've ever been, you fucking son of a bitch."
Comanche put up his hands, ready for a little bit of trouble.
"We're going to really show you some respect this time. I'm going to teach you what it means to pull shit on us."
Mother took out her whip and stroked her pussy thru her thin panties with it. She had an itch on and she wanted it taken care of. Violence was the dish she wanted to sink herself into.
"Why don't you get your ass over here," she said "And suck my cunt."
Comanche wasn't taking any kind of bad mouthing from her or any of us.
"I'm gonna stomp all over you this time, you crazy bitch."
She let the whip uncoil with one quick motion of her hand and then she flipped out the tip, cutting across the leather cords that bound his vest closed. They snapped as if they were threads, and he howled with the agony that the whip left on his chest skin, along with a track of blood.
"Now you know what you're in for, you stupid son of a bitch."
Mother was literally foaming at the mouth, and she was more than ready to tear the living shit out of him. She came ripping in, the whip cutting one grand killing arc across three torsos, sending them all flying and kicking away from her wrath.
"Get them, you fools. Pile on them." Mother roared out her instructions, and we hastened to obey them.
I piled into Dave, giving him a finger jab in the solar plexus, a cracking chop to the neck, one backhand chop to the other side of the neck, and a knee into the pit of his belly.
Roger grabbed Comanche by his cock, and slammed one terrific shot into the groin right above his hair line of groin growth. He crumbled up as if he had been hit with a ball bat. A shot to the back of the neck put him down.
Alicia made a miscalculation on her victim, and he got his hands on her throat. But she gave George the double chop to the ribs to break it, and then the four of us piled on him and battered him to a pulp.
Looking down at them, we could be more than satisfied with the job we had done.
"All simple and straight. Now all we have to do is to get started on them. Before I'm finished with these bastards, they'll be wondering why they were ever stupid enough to mess with me." Mother rubbed her gloved hands together, contemplating her revenge.
CHAPTER FOUR
We laid them out on the operating tables down in the basement. We had rigged up a room as a laboratory and this we used first in our campaign to break them down.
We stripped them naked and went to work. First we rubbed and washed them down, cleaning them off. After that we followed through with a thorough shaving of their bodies.
This brought them around. The sawing and scraping at them with dull, well used razors brought them around, as we had planned it.
"What the fuck--uhhh--my head...
Comanche groaned his way back to consciousness. I was working on his chest, removing all of the heavy growth of hair that covered him like the hairy hide of a bear. I gave him a long pull all the way from his shoulder to his right nipple.
"Eaaaaaahhh. You son of a bitch."
He looked down at the red broad track I had left on his skin, all raw and flayed, the hair just torn away. I kissed him tenderly on the wounded area, apologizing to him for any discomfort.
"W-what are you going to do with us?"
My mother took his pecker in her hand and gave it a few strokes, chuckling over his terrified limpness. He couldn't have gotten a hard-on just then if his life had depended on it.
"For a start we're going to beautify you. A bit of removal of hair should be the first step. Then we're going to make you nice and pretty and feminine."
"Feminine?"
"Right on. You seem to dislike boys all dressed up in queenly drag. Well, you're going to be the queen of queens when I finish with you."
"You can't keep me here you crazy bitch. Who the fuck do you think you are? There are laws you know... " She shut him off with a few slaps on the face. By the look in her eyes he knew better than to go on with it. She had the look of a killer, and her hands were close to his throat.
"There are also laws against rape, assault, breaking and entering. Or don't you care about your own violations, bastard."
Dave spoke up, his voice a trembling, cringing whine.
"It was all his idea lady--he's the leader. Why don't you let me go. I promise not to say anything about this."
Ruth gave him the leather quirt on his belly. He screamed, a small leak of blood oozing from the corner of the mark she had engraved on him.
"You miserable coward. You were part of it, and you're going to be part of this, too. Whatever happens to him will happen to you."
"Please--let me go. I won't say anything. Oh shiiit--I'm scared."
"You have good reason to be scared. You have a lot to atone for, you punk. I'm going to make you a fucking dummy. When I finish with you, whenever I snap my fingers, you'll spread your legs and open your mouth to take in the hot peckers."
"The fuck we will. We're real men, not fags like that freak son of yours, you stupid shit."
He really was asking for it. Before my stepmother could get over to him, I gave him a slash with that blade right through the growth of his armpit. The hair swirled away, as I just cut my way through right down to the bloody skin.
"Owwwwww. Stop that."
"Then shut the fuck up so that I can concentrate. I don't want to chop off anything essential."
That threat scared the fucking shit out of him. He was ready to pop off in his pants, except that he was not wearing any pants.
"Gag the bastards. That'll keep them silent."
We gagged them and then we set to work. Slowly we chopped off every body hair, going slow and making it very painful and very cutting. We left them flayed and raw and quite bloody. We just worked them over the best way that we could, and it was one happy time.
When we had finished, they were twitching, sobbing wrecks. Just that one little ordeal had been enough to make them ready to break. We patted and petted them. I cupped Comanche's balls and sucked at his cock, babytalking to him as I swirled saliva along his organ. I really had him going, my dressed as a broad working on him, my hands rubbing all of the raw places on his skin, and he not wanting me to go on but helpless to do anything.
We ran our hands all over the skin that had been half flayed away. We pulled and pinched, prodded and squeezed. We tongue washed and kissed, sucked and played with wild abandon. They were all ours, to do with as we pleased.
"Do it all to them. The hair as well on the top."
We did as we were ordered by Ruth. Their eyes rolled and twisted from side to side, they were crying like babies as we sheared them, the way Delilah had shorn Samson.
We left not one hair on top of their stupid heads. I mean not one. And as we scalped and clipped them, letting our hands slip and hack, our mamma was playing jerk and pull on their dicks.
The way she yanked them, they were soon ready to shoot off. She bounced her big tits off of their chests, let her sweat drip and run all over them. She had them half crazy, and they were undergoing the treatment from us all the time.
"Wash the creeps down."
We turned the hoses on them, getting all of the blood and the hair off, just washing them down with the icy cold water.
"Good for a start. Of course, we have a lot more to do with them. Let's get them bedded down."
Strapped to the tables, we wheeled them up the house, up the elevator, to the second floor where we had prepared the slave quarters for them.
"This will do. Heave the creeps in and just leave them there for the night."
Which was precisely what we did. We left them there and then we retired to our own little rooms. Stepmommy wanted to be alone with her hash and her dongs. That was all one hundred percent with us, we had our own scene set up.
I put my ass down on my bed, with Roger sitting at the foot of the bed, ready to begin. He put his mouth to my cock, sucking it in. I let him play for a while with me, while Alicia got ready to make it a fun night. Then she was ready and she let fly with her whip.
She cut me on my ass. It bounced up into the air. A sting spread through my tail, and then the welts began to multiply as she flailed away at me. She crisscrossed the cuts on my butt, hitting me in many places, cutting grooves and weals, all the way from side to side.
"Son of a bitch."
She closed her hands on my bottom. She dug her nails into the skin, ripping deep into the soft material, cutting my skin as she sawed into me, eager to get at the good meat. She ripped into the welts she had marked my behind with, making the blood flow from them.
I had a cock in my mouth, my stepbrother had reversed on me and now was feeding his hot and ready cock into my mouth.
I pulled at it with long, drawing and holding actions while Alicia ravaged my ass with the whip and her hands. She had the knack, inherited from her mother. She used that whip like the expert she was, and she cut my ass to ribbons with it. There were spatters of blood all over the bed, and she was now drilling into the marks with her nails, just screwing and digging her claws down into the ruptured flesh.
In the room where we had left them the half skinned and completely bald bastards were spending a bad night of it. They tossed and rolled, trying in vain to get out of the bonds that held them. The stupid fools failed to get any sleep. We had them raw and aching in the morning, completely spent.
We came in on them, after a wild night that had turned in the end into a peaceful and restful night, up and full and fit.
"Did you sleep well," I asked a red-eyed Comanche, who regarded me like some roach he would love to be able to step on. I didn't like the way he looked me over, so I gave him the hand on the mouth, letting my blow break his lip and bring some blood.
"You really are one dumb bastard, did anyone ever tell you that? You never know when to quit."
I could see that he was planning to be a lot of bother to us. He was going to show us what a real man he was with his stupid defiance. Well, we could take all he had and hit him back with a lot worse. It was all the same to us. We could make it hard or not so hard, as we saw fit.
I took his cock in my hand, and began to play with it. He looked sick, as if my touch was infectious. I put my cock close to his mouth, and that really turned him into a raging animal.
"You dumb son of a bitch, don't you look at me that way, or I'll break your ass."
Alicia knew how to make him behave. She started on him with the pins. Whistling and laughing, her body gleaming with a morning dew of sweat, she took a long pin and spun it in her fingers. He was looking at it like a trapped animal watching the slaughterer's blade.
"Not afraid of a little needle, are you tough guy?"
Ruth laughed at him, and then she stuck that needle right into the juicy meat of his ass. She rammed it in and corkscrewed it deep into his fat ass, twisting and turning it as she shoved it in. He let out a scream that could be heard a mile away.
Ruth jabbed him again and again. In and out, the nipples, the thighs, the ass. She spun the table around and around, as it could rotate on its legs, and every time that ass was in range she just jabbed it all of the way into him. Soon he was babbling like a baby and begging her to stop it.
"Well now, you really can't take very much, can you tough guy?"
She gave him a few more stabs in the rump just for the fucking hell of it. She gave him a few probes under the toenails and this blew his mind. He wanted no part of that kind of treatment. She stabbed a few times at his once hairy armpits and this broke down all of the resistance he had left at that point. He cried and pleaded, his voice a whining drone evoking contempt rather than pity.
I wanted to whip some ass. We went to work on all of the juicy bottoms. Three plump and ready behinds, all ours. We whipped away, making the rump meat roast and redden. We hit them with our hands, with straps, with whips.
I chose Dave. He had a nice, squishy bottom, real bouncy and soft meat. His can rippled and shivered with wave patterns every time I let that whip I was using whack across his bottom cheeks. I sent his ass into spasms of pain, and knocked it until the white skin was covered with red streaks, dripping blood in a few places.
Alicia wanted to make it hurt bad for this trio of cycle trash. She stabbed pins into the bruised tails, selecting the welt marks as her targets.
The agony of a stab with a pin into a welted mass of flesh was indescribable. And the sufferers were making all kinds of sounds, telling us how regretful they were about their transgressions, and how they would change their ways in the future if we would show them some mercy. I shut them up by jamming worn and dirty panties into their mouths, letting them have the full benefits of all of the filthy taste and scent. I played around with them, creaming to the exciting looks of terror I aroused on their puffy, frightened faces.
Alicia wanted some meat to eat. She began to make the rounds, playing hot and grab with their cocks. She sucked the pricks in one after the other, chewing and biting hard while she sucked them clean. I followed her around, dripping my drool all over their chests and faces, making them sick the way I slobbered on them, eating nipple and lapping armpit.
"We have a lot to do, my children. So hurry up and get your things finished. 'Cause your little old mama wants to get down to the serious business."
Ruth said this so sweetly, her hands gently picking at wounds and lacerations, that she scared a urinal emission out of Dave. He was a frightened punk, wetting himself in front of us all, our laughter cutting into him down to the marrow of his bones.
"Dumb son of a bitch," Ruth swore. "Get this idiot cleaned off. I'll start on the boss man."
She picked Comanche for her first victim. I was not sure what she had in mind, but I could hazard a guess. She started in on him easy, just running her hands soothingly over all of his hurts, cooing and whispering to him letting her unbelievable femininity wash over his body. She pressed nipple along his chest, just caressing and massaging him with the hot bubble tips of her big tits, rubbing her bubbles all over him and letting him get a massive erection from the close contact of her body.
Ruth worked on him this way for a while driving him to distraction, blowing off the corners of his mind. And her hands were always in motion all over his body. And when he was ready to shoot off his load, when he was half wild with the lust she had driven into him with her tits and her hands, her mouth began to lap at him, tongue probing all of the recesses and curves, drinking away sweat and stench. Soon she had driven him to his peak, and now she was ready to hurt him.
CHAPTER FIVE
Ruth hit him on the cheek, snapping his head around. His eyes flickered and clouded, as her hand flashed ruthlessly back and forth on his cheeks, knocking his head first one way and then the other. She had him spinning, and his face changed color as her hands drove his cheeks from side to side.
"She going to lay hands on him," Roger said excitedly. "What a scene."
A hand reached out and took my balls. It was Alicia. She screwed three fingers up Roger's ass and took my cock in her other hand, letting the balls rest on her churning wrist. Roger shoved some fingers up my bottom hole and began to finger fuck me. We watched the torture in rapt silence, except for our heavy panting stimulated by sex and lust.
Mother was slapping his body inch by inch. Sweat beaded upon her knit brow and trickled down her face. Her eyes were fixed and sinister, her mouth twisted up into a hate line. She swept her hands over his body, down toward his groin. Her hands rose and fell, the cracking sound filling the silence. She did not pause or hesitate or break her rhythm at any time. She did not leave an area of his body until it glowed red with heat and pain. She worked on his shoulders and chest until his twitching body was so shocked by pain that he could not writhe and wrack around with any great energy.
I walked up behind her, engrossed by her pumping massive buttocks, which were strained with little moisture buds and drops. I put my wide open mouth to the soft foam of her ass and swept my tongue out over the meat. She liked what I was doing and moved her rump around, giving me a face wash on her butt, urging me on in this way to keep at it.
"Lick her ass," Alicia muttered into my ear as she came up alongside me and took a bite of my ear. Her hands were all over me.
My stepbrother came up on the other side. He dug his hands into Ruth's ass, sinking them in and shoving one slender, delicate hand between her thighs, into the pelvic meat, and all the way into the snatch right up to the wrist. My stepmother clenched her thighs closed and whacked off her cunt of on my stepbrother's hand, vising and grinding it until the milk came pouring in a flood out of her honey pot.
All of the time her snapping, smashing hands were going in steady advancement down the body of her victim. The other two were kicking and snapping around, trying to break loose and frightened shitless watching their big leader getting the works.
Ruth slapped her way over his belly. She scooped up handfuls of his belly fat with one hand and whacked upon it with the other hand. "Feeling sore, you bastard?"
Ruth snapped a chop into the center of his gut. She sank it in and his face turned a deadly shade of white, ashen pale. His guts were sick, and his gag almost popped out of his mouth.
"Can't take it in the belly? You are not tough, you weak bastard."
Now Ruth was down to her real target, his groin. She scooped his cock up with one hand, and with the other she slammed the palm into his cock head again and again. He went into massive convulsions, his entire body straining at the bonds as he popped his mind, his body covered with a funky layer of running heavy sweat. She kept at it, hitting him on the tip of his dick again and again, relentlessly and mercilessly. She laughed at the expressions on his face as she pounded him. Her hands moved to his balls. She scooped up his balls between her hands and ground them back and forth, bouncing them from one hand to the other, working on them without a pause. She ran her nails up and down his thighs, digging red marks into his skin. Then she scooped his balls up again and her bouncing between a hard slapping, from hand to hand, side to side.
"This is one kind of action you don't dig, right my friend?"
She kept on taunting him all through the torture. She went down his thighs, slapping away without a break, though by now he was reacting with very much fire to the workings of her hands on his body.
I was lapping her ass, letting all of the spit that I could generate just flow all over her can. I churned and blew it up her ass, my chin rubbing on the forearm of my brother as it rammed in and out of Ruth's box. Her fragrant hot come cream came flowing down his arm, and I licked out at it to taste the nectar. It was beyond compare.
My stepsister was now at work on my ass with a strap. She laid it on my bottom, heating it up. The pain went knifing through me from the welts she marked my bottom with. She lashed out occasionally at the other two bastards we were working on, letting them have it on belly and chest. We were cutting them up to the limit, and it was still early in the morning.
Down at the calves, Ruth stared up at his face to see how far gone he was. She gave his cock a pinch on the red tip as she had slapped. That made him start. He was still able to appreciate the agony, and so she gave it to him. She slapped his calves until they were as flushed and pained as the rest of his body. Only then did she quit and leave off the beating. He stared up in a daze straight at the ceiling without blinking.
"So much for the first one. Now we have the other two to work on."
She sent me over to Comanche to work him over with my teeth. I pinched up his well reddened chest, pulling at the raw places where razor and whip had done their work on him. Then I began to bite into him. I bit him from one side of his body to the other, scooping into my mouth all of the flesh that would cram and then sawing my teeth into ever increasing marks that were almost torn down to the blood, but now quite.
I clawed my nails into him, ripping and shredding. I chewed on his flesh, spit on it, and then chewed my spit into the wounds. I tore at his nipples like a hungry wolf, all of the time making him suffer without end.
Mother was slapping the second one. Her ass was wobbling, Roger's head buried between her cheek halves, pumping away. He was trying to fit his whole head up her tail, not succeeding, but giving her one hell of a grind while he worked on her.
Her victim, George, was getting it on the belly first. He had some fresh whip marks on his guts, which made them a particularly satisfying target for her spanking. She worked on him, slapping and hitting, her hands just pumping away without a letup. She beat him from the underside of his shorn chest down to the bare bulging pack of his groin.
She kept on hitting him until he was a throbbing, shaking mass of pain. Then she worked her way up to his face, hitting and hitting. She kept on hitting his face until he could stand it no more. Then she went all over his face with a rapid fire salvo, blasting him until the blood ran from his nose and mouth.
He stared at her, tears in his hocked eyes, a blubbering little boy. Such softness did not impress her, it only made her more anxious to let him have it. And she gave him the works, from his belly down to his ankles. She cupped his nuts in one hand while the other made them bounce around like pinballs shot off the end of a cue stick. She hit it to him so many times that his gun shot off, while she was slapping around on his balls. Ruth rubbed her hands into the mess he had made and then she smeared it all over his face, making him damn good and sick. He was in so bad a way when she .finished with him that the third one was ready to crap even before she had touched him.
Ruth swept her hands up to his head, cupping his face in her strong palms and staring him down, not giving one second of peace to him. She bit at his bald head, slapped her tits up and down on his body. He was in a bad way, trembling and frightened, all sticky with sweat. She raised her hand and held it, letting him have a long time to get ready for his punishment. He just lay there like a lamb for the slaughter, not able to do anything and just staring at the hand poised over his face.
Now she hit him, slapping his face so hard that his whole body shook. He began to shake in spasm, his body out of control from fear.
"What a stupid, scared faggot," Alicia said. She took my cock in one hand and Roger's cock in the other, and sat us down on Comanche, positioning herself between us so that we were bouncing up and down on him, hurting him with our weight, while Alicia pumped away at our pricks, smirking into his face while he rolled about trying to adjust to the weight we had piled on him.
Soon we were shooting off, the heavy thick gobs of come just pumping out of our pricks.
We walked over to where the last of the trio was undergoing the ordeal of the hands. His red skinned body, hued to the shade of crimson, was writhing in fits and spasms of violent pain. His skin was colored from his forehead down to his ankles. Ruth had laid it on him with all of her might until she had not one spare piece of skin left to beat upon.
Ruth reeled back, her body torn with fatigue. Now her adrenalin count was falling, and the exhaustion was beginning to set in on her. She had been breaking his body for almost half an hour, and it was more than an hour since she had started.
"Can all three of you goons hear me?" she grasped each under the chin and shook him up. She had three affirmative nods from them.
"Good, because this is only a first installment on what you have coming to you. I want you to be the good little boys that I'm training you to be. Any breach of discipline will bring severe punishment."
Purring and licking my lips, I reached under Comanche and took his smooth shaven ass cheeks in my hands. I spit on his cock and licked the saliva into him, running my tongue all over him.
"My children will use the three of you for their pets. I expect nothing but the best behavior from all three of you."
They were all ready to plead anything, to promise to obey any conditions, just to get her to stop working upon them. They were all fucked up at that moment.
"What should I do to them," Ruth asked me. I was surprised that she asked me to make that decision, but more than pleased to have the power in my hands.
"Let's work over the other sides."
That was what we did to them next. We flipped the three idiots over and strapped them down. They kicked and hacked at us, but they were now pretty weak and we had them under firm control.
I started on Comanche. I took all of the pin marks in his ass and pulled them open, cratering them until the blood oozed out of the tiny pin pricks. Then I stabbed my nails into all of the wounds we had marked on their bodies.
I began to slap and chop at his ass. I hit him twenty times on the left cheek, all of the blows descending upon the same spit, blow after blow, until he was ready to fall apart. Then I started in hitting him on a new area, working my way back and forth from one side of the ass to the other. I slapped and hit, his bottom a bouncing ball of white, my hands running smoothly and perfectly all over his flesh.
The other two were getting a licking at the same time, and their bottoms were soon as red and scarlet hued deep into the underlying layers as the ass of the bastard I was beating shit out of.
"Out of sight," Roger said to me. "I want to trade off with you."
Roger was working on George, letting his can explode with hard hits. He gave him a few chops in the slash between his ass cheeks as well to make his body sting more.
"Why not. All right, he's all yours."
I blew a kiss into Comanche's ear and turned him over to Roger. I went to work on his victim, pathetic George.
Dave was in the worst shape, he had my mother and my sweet sister both working on him. Alicia was getting her box creamed out by Ruth as well as enjoying the pleasures of breaking a good stud.
She sat down on the back of Dave's head, and bounced her little tail up and down, half a foot up and then crashing down on his head. She had him going, and all of the blood flowing out of his nose showed the state he was in. Her hands worked him from the back to the knees, and back again.
Her hands pinched up gobs of his ass, and then wrung them out. Her strong fingers sank so deep into the tortured meat that they vanished out of sight. The ass was mauled, pounded, smashed.
Mother was working under him, pulling off his meat with one hand while her other hand came close to breaking his back. He tossed up and down, tom between the torments of the two mean women, wishing that he was dead.
I sat on the head of the creep I was mauling. I knew how he felt, I remembered some of my own ordeals when I had been younger and less willing. But I hated the son of a bitch for what he and his gang had done to me. I ripped my hands into his ass from the left side to the right side, sinking in all of the way so that the tears were deep enough to bleed freely. His ass was smeared with the blood from the crisscrossing lines which I engraved into his butt. He was in a panic, his body all messed up from the torture we were handing out to him.
Mother called a halt to it. She held herself upright against a wall, the fluid just oozing out of her, the spicy fragrance of it filling the air.
"We've done enough to them for the time. Let's get the bastards scrubbed down and ready for breakfast."
I attached a chain to the pulley and ran it over the bar. There was a hook on the other end, and to this I attached a chained pair of wrist shackles, creating a slave-hoist to use on the trio.
"This will do very nicely," Ruth commented. Her hand playfully slapped on my ass. "Let's get the tub in here and get these creeps cleaned off."
What we did was dip them one by one into a huge tank filled with ice cold water, salted water to be exact. Icy brine, eating into all of the bloody wounds and lacerations. It brought them awake and alert the way nothing else could. You could have heard them screaming a mile off if not for the gags that silenced them.
We stood around, a cruel quartet, still playing and grabbing at each other while we dunked them into the ice cold brine one after the other. And of course, there was the soaping with coarse industrial soap, cleaning off all of the blood and filth.
They lay in a fucked up heap before us, three bald, hairless, and very battered slobs, all of the bravado and spirit gone. All they wanted now was an out, and they crawled to our feet and kissed them, begging for our pardon and vowing all sorts of shit to get us to let their asses go free.
Of course, we had heard all of this crap from them before, and the only answer they got out of Ruth, cursing them all of the time, was the crack of her whip on their already butchered rumps.
CHAPTER SIX
It was a hell of a lot of fun, there was no denying of that. Comanche was my own favorite pet little slave, and within two days I had him shit scared of me, and eating the crap off my toes.
I liked to dress up for him, to do myself up in high Rachel drag. Long legs encased in stockings, attached by thin garter bands to a garter belt, a luscious belt that ran around my waist above the almost transparent pink panties that I enticed him with. The padded bra, and the dressing gown over the rest. The wig that had fooled him once.
I strolled around him, letting my hands wander all over his body. He shuddered and twitched without the means to stop it. I sneered at him, patting the dabs of sweat on his skin that clearly revealed his fright.
"Are you so afraid of me?"
"No, Richie, honest I'm not... " I cracked him three times on the ass with the riding crop.
"You forgot again," I chided him. For a clincher, I gave him one on the cheek, cutting the corner of his lip.
"Don't fuck up like that again."
"I'm sorry--Rachel. I swear I am."
"I believe your sincerity, boy."
I laid it on him, playing my skin and costume all over his flesh. I pressed apart the cheeks of his ass. Now he lunged forward in his bondage, wondering what the hell I was going to do to him now.
"Do you want a blowjob," I asked. My fingers were lightly touching his nuts.
"Yes, yes, I'll take it. I do want it, I want to please you."
Such a whine in his tone, such a yowling, cowardly little dog. I seized him by his nose and left ear, almost grinding them off.
"You dirty pig. You stupid motherfucker. That isn't what I have in store for you man. I want a little bit of the hots and heavies of revenge, if you can dig it."
I took his balls in my hand and cupped them harshly. His face changed colors and expressions, and I laughed at the terror he showed me.
"I'm gonna fuck you baby---just the way you and your rat pack fucked me."
"No--no--you can't do that. I'm no fag, you son of a bitch."
I was delighted to find the one thing that he feared more than pain, and I applied the humiliation to him exquisitely. First I bent him down over the bench, wrestling him into position. He yelled and shrieked, but there was nobody to help him, and I soon had him in new bondage, arms stretched wide over his head.
"This should keep you from being naughty while I'm working on you."
"Oh God, he's going to do it to me."
I played with his ass, sticking fingers up it. wet fingers which I prodded all around in exploratory groping in siege of his private pasture.
"A lot of room up there. Are you sure you haven't done this before?"
He tried to spit at me, but laughing, I dodged his spray and picked up my whip. I pinched together two of the lash marks I had laid on his tail. I made the blood gush from the mashed and crushed meat, and he let out that awful yell of pain and terror once more.
"First we warm the meat."
Saying this, I laid into him with the riding crop, cutting his ass to shreds. I laid on one side and then on the other. I hit him from left to right, crossing a hot weal over the red scar of the last strike and then moving a bit to hit some virgin ass territory. Soon I had all of his bottom aflame with red and the purplish welts standing out on the skin of his bottom were smeared with blood.
"Not a bad start, Comanche. But that is not the right name for you any longer. You're about to become a fucked faggot, and so you need a new name."
"You little bastard. OOOhhh."
His groan pleased me and so I took my right hand and curved it into a claw. Then I smashed ten nails right into the bloody marks and then ripped from his ass a tremendous shot of blood out of tom open welt marks. "Eeeaaaaujiiiiiieeeeeee."
His scream almost tore my eardrums apart. His sounds would never do, there were other people at work on other boyish bodies, and his sounds had to cease. And so, reluctantly, I gagged him again, this time stuffing a shitty rag into his mouth, and sealing it in with tape.
"Sorry to cut short this conversation just when it was getting interesting, but there are things to do and not much time left. So let us get it on now, my little friend."
I took a large dong and rammed the head against the closed portal of his ass. His body trembled and threshed as I rammed the thing deep into him, turning and coiling it around as I forced it into him, laughing like a fiend at the thing I was doing to him. He broke down into wild screaming which his gag rendered into low moans and wild stifled sounds. I slammed it around in him for a while, digging a channel for my cock. I was not used to doing this thing, to sticking my cock into an ass. Always the action had been the other way, and the long sticks had been wedged deep into me. But now, it was my turn, and I intended to make the most of it. I gave him the full blast, all of the way in, swinging the shaft of the cock right and left in my hand, and then giving it a full clockwise rotation. As I turned it, I began to turn it faster and faster, the power and the speed building up until the discomfort was extraordinary.
I whipped it out of him, the stink of his ass following it. I laughed at the stench he left in the air, and then I wedged apart his ass crack, splitting him wide once more and finger fucked him for a time.
I was now ready for the real business. Like a cat I dug my teeth into his neck, just biting down into all of the delicious neck meat and sucking blood from the wound marks. Then I drove my cock against his asshole and penetrated all of the way into him despite the resistance of his body. He had no real chance of keeping me out of his bottom, and I wanted his virgin bottom hole.
"You are a sweet girl," I taunted him, "You are one hell of a sweet ride."
I pumped my body up and down, giving him the fast in and out, in and out. He was not happy to take my cock into his asshole, to be fucked like a girl. I kept at it until I had spent my energy and my load in his asshole.
"You were a good piece baby. I'll have to tell the school what a sweet hunk of ass you are. The Scorpios had a great time with my ass. I wonder how much fun I'm gonna have with your butt."
That got to him. He cried so much that the tears formed pools under his eyes. All of the time I comforted him like talking to a hurt baby, sweet talking him as I played with his can, cupping and scooping up hunks of the flagellated rump meat and letting it run through my hands.
I kept at it for a while, sucking his toes and fingers, sticking fingers up his ass, licking his face. He "Couldn't take it, but I kept right on doing it.
"Meal time, my little girl."
I wheeled him out of there on the torture cradle, his belly down to a bar covered with spikes. I rubbed and slammed him into this as I moved him along, and I used a thin chain on his ass, whipping and beating it.
Into the feeding pen he went. There was a trough filled with slop and pig feed. He had his face shoved down into this by my foot, and I ground him in deep and laughed at his frantic efforts to break free.
The other two were there. Dave had his ass and back bloody from whip welts. George was made up like Rebecca, his own alter ego-feminine form. He was prancing around in high heeled red boots and pink panties and skirt. His bottom was sticking out, and every time he let the whip crack into Dave's welted can, he flashed me a look at his obscene bottom.
George was also in trouble. His ass was filled with some two dozen long pins, and they vibrated in the cheeky bottom as Alicia gave him the toe of her boot right between his bottom cheeks, again and again.
The three fools ate at their slops while we compared notes and worked out plans for dealing with them.
"How is yours behaving," Roger asked me. "Not too bad. He still needs a lot of work." I pointed to the small spill of slime dripping from his savaged asshole.
"As you can see I have been very busy up that fat crack of his."
"Good boy," Alicia complimented me. "Never give the bastards an inch."
I pointed down to my cock. "I gave the son of a bitch six inches, to be exact."
Alicia and Roger broke up laughing, but their hands did not cease the flagellation of the three bottoms, and I myself looked through the equipment to find something to send the three bastards deep into hell.
"What about these things," I said selecting three huge dongs with little studs and spikes all along the shafts.
Alicia took one in her hand and tested it for flexibility and the sharpness of the spikes. It seemed to impress her.
"This is one hell of a bad mother. You use this on them and they'll really know what it's all about."
"That was the general idea."
Roger took one and looked it over. "I don't think this thing is really practical. I don't see how this could really be forced up an ass."
I picked up the third and tried to imagine it going in. It would really hurt the fucking heel out of the poor fool who was getting it. I gave a jab with it to the ass of Dave as he was dipping his face deep into the flop.
"Owwww. Stop it."
He let out this terrible howl as I dug the thing into the softness of his ass, his whole body wracking with seizures and spasms.
I gripped him around the waist, bucked back my shoulder, and then gave it a long, deep, ramming, thrust right into the meat of his can. A spurt of blood at the entrance of his ass showed the effect that it was having on him.
"Sock it to him," Alicia encouraged me. She gave him the whip on the shoulders, and he let out another howl as the lash curled upon his skin leaving a red strip of tom skin and dripping blood behind.
He lunged to his feet, his eyes red rimmed and berserk. I almost giggled at the thrill of his resistance as his hands encircled my throat. They had already lost some five pounds of weight apiece, and they were in no condition to fight us. I dug into his whip scarred shoulders, sinking my claws into his skin and ripping my hands all of the way down to his buttocks, leaving bloody streaks behind as I ripped his skin apart.
He fell to the floor groveling in his pain, and I gave him the knee to the face. I dug a chop down to the base of his neck as he slumped against me and tried to hold.
The other two were on their feet, the whips of my step brother and stepsister tearing at them. They staggered and reeled under the sting of lashes.
Alicia stepped in and grasped Comanche by the neck and the cock. She pulled him in, half yanking his wang off, then ripped a few backhand chops to his neck. As he doubled up, she deflected a punch he started and ripped his arm up into a shoulder snapping armlock.
"Let me goooo."
He lifted her right up into the air on the end of his flailing arm in his attempts to break free. I dug a groin hacking karate slash into his body. He doubled, and I gave him the old finisher behind the neck.
"Let's finish this."
The last of them we picked up bodily and slammed down like a battering ram on top of his two comrades. He had this sick, sick expression on his face as we worked him over. We were more than happy to sock some additional punishment to him.
I squatted on Comanche's face, my ass doing a wild farting, ploshing, mashing dance all over his face. I felt his flowing blood under my skin.
"I know what to do with him."
"Then do it."
"I gave him a slow golden shower cocktail right down his throat. He sputtered and coughed, and the overflow ran into the slop they were eating from, which was perfectly all right with us.
We let them suffer, pissing into their mouths and pissing into the slop they were eating from. It was perfect, for after we had finished we whipped their tails to ribbons to force them to eat.
They put their faces into the now wet mass of crap and gobbled it, pigs at the trough. We tore their asses until they were red stained and bleeding freely. We cut them up and enjoyed every damn moment of it.
When they had drained the trough and there was nothing left to feed to the swine, we sent them out of the feeding pen, on hands and knees, running the gauntlet at the fastest rate they could manage.
We forced them to pass between our legs, and we worked them over good with this advantage going for us.
I had the cocks, and into each ass I rammed one, feeling the walls of the anuses cave in under the gouging action of the oversized cocks.
"Move along you dirty bastards."
I sent each ass along the gauntlet, feeding my hard leather strap to the bottoms, cutting more grooves into ass that was well welted.
Alicia took each bottom behind me, one by one, raining destruction with the paddle. She was an expert with this implement and she kept on slugging away, hitting so hard that she crashed them to the floor with her blows.
After getting by her, there was Roger awaiting them, with pepper and salt for their raw and bloody tails. He poured it on, and the pain he gave them was more than they could take in silence. They amused us with their howls, and we sent them along, their bottoms swabbed with spices, the grains eating into every laceration.
"This is the best torture session we've had yet," Alicia said. "We're really wiping them out."
I had to agree with her. We had really gotten to the sons of bitches with this latest little trick.
"Should we feed them this way all of the time?" Roger asked.
I looked over our three pawns, who were quaking with horror at this suggestion. I decided to play with them.
"That depends on how good and obedient they are. We'll have to think about it for a while."
Comanche crawled over to me to lick my boots. I covered them with spit and commanded him to make them shine.
"I want to be able to see my face reflected in them."
He did a good job. I really could see my reflection in those boots by the time his talented tongue had done the prescribed task.
CHAPTER SEVEN
We were turning them into our slaves, and they were easy prey. They fell before our first onslaughts, and the power of their terror held them in check.
Mother loved to crack the whip over them, and she soon had them so shit scared of her that they would fall to their knees ready to lick when she entered a room.
She began to dress them after the first week. At this they balked, the fitting of female garments to their bodies, being faggoted in slips and panties and bras. But we went to work on them with the whips and the straps.
Mother bound Dave and George back to back. She tied rubber cords around them, great bands of heavy rubber elastic which sank so deep into their flesh that the rolls of heaped up white meat almost hid from sight the flesh sunk bands.
"Aren't they a sight?"
Mother chucked over their plight; the way she had them set up, the bands sank deep into them so that their flesh was rolling and kicking, and there was enough give in this type of binding to allow them to struggle against it, hurting one another with their desperate and futile efforts.
She tied rope cords around the bases of their genitals, squirting up the cocks and balls through the drawn tight nooses. How they suffered in this bondage, and the agony that they experienced. They threshed and they kicked, and all of the pain filled their faces, evident for us to see.
"Poor bastards. They're already on the way out, and this has just begun."
Mother snapped her fingers and I hastened to light her cigarette for her. She rolled the holder between her lips, puffing away and smiling her sick smile at their panic and misery.
"Poor sons of bitches. The things you have to go through before we finish with you."
She picked up a whip. It was a long whip, the lengths of it rolling along the floor as she uncoiled it and readied it for use.
"This might sting just a little bit."
It was a wicked whip, a serious implement to use upon a victim. She ranged it out, letting the great coil run and drag behind her. The haft was braided, and the butt end was topped with a hard dildo useful for shoving up an unwilling ass.
My stepmother took this whip and let it slash out at the two culprits. It coiled and snaked around them, wrapping three or four times about their interconnected torsos and tearing open the skin. They kicked and bucked, their bodies in the grasp of the terrible whip.
Ruth snapped it loose with a flick of her wrist, and then wrapped them up again. The whip slashed between their legs after a trip around their bodies. They lunged and the rubber bonds snapped apart, letting their bodies strain out of tight embrace before locking together again with a hurting crash.
Ruth whipped at them for a while, just wrapping around them with every blow, taking her time and rejoicing in their cries of anguish.
Ruth walked up to them and took bunches of whipped flesh in her hands, exploring the wounds with her fingertips, nailing and raking the torn flesh. She let her cigarette ash drip into a chest laceration, and as the cry of agony rose she let the tip of her cigarette brush upon bare flesh.
"I'm really sorry about this."
To show how sorry she was she took up the cat of nine tails and went to work on them with that. She split open deep chest and belly gashes, making them writhe and jerk with even greater anguish then the previous whipping had caused to them.
I picked up a long cane, the end of which splayed out into a number of splintery strands. With this I lashed the bellies and the thighs of the two prisoners, cutting at them in many clever and heartless ways. I gashed a series of scratchy wounds all along the insides of the thighs, and let the end of the whip stroke and slash against the dangling testicles, beating upon them with enough force to cause unbearable sting.
"Enough of that," Ruth informed me in her commanding tone, taking me by the wrist. "I want these two fairies dressed up now, and we will select their new names."
She meant the grafting onto them of female names to go with their new feminine identities. A little bit of psychological torture as cruel as any whipping. It was a soul whipping actually, and it broke them down to the very bottom.
First I dressed their wounds with plasters coated with salt and vinegar. How they kicked and writhed under that effect. I dug it into them, and they pleaded with me to take the bandages off them, but I merrily kept on at it until I had finished.
We now came to the real fun, the dressing up. We put the three of them together for this ordeal, and all of us worked upon them in harmony and teamwork.
Our hands ran all over them, fingers going up assholes, hands cupping cocks and balls. All with the purpose of driving them wild.
We put on them fine, transparent black whore panties, wedging small dongs up their bottom holes for a start, to give them something to think about.
After this came the .laying on of long nylons and garter belts. We ran those stockings up their legs, feeling them while we did it, grooving to the pain we caused digging into raw wounds. There were still small trickles of blood from cuts, and this emphasized their new clothes.
After the underwear we laid on them long, silken skirts and blouses, feeling them up all of the time.
"Now, we need some names to go with this new look. So let's see. George will be Nancy and Dave will be Janine. That should do."
"What about this asshole?" I ventured, pointing to Comanche, cowering in his drag and trying to make himself small and invisible.
"This one? We'll call him Estelle."
"Good, it had a nice ring to it."
We then took the three of them in their new drag and ran them around the basement. As the sweat poured down their straining limbs, we beat upon them with whips and straps. The female finery tore and came apart under the cracking of our whips. We ran them ragged, ruthlessly driving them on without a care for their suffering.
"Keep these bastards moving."
We kept them going for over an hour. Their dragging asses were dripping blood and the torn flapping rags of clothing made excellent targets for our whips.
We kept at it until they were staggering and dropping at every step. It was obvious that they could not continue, and so we gave them a rest, one by one, in the water tank. The refreshing bath restored their spirits, there is nothing like cold brine on raw wounds to make one sit up and take notice.
Following this, we went to work on them once again. We formed a gauntlet and made them go through it, whipping their asses a bit more, cutting up the rained meat.
We set them running through the whipping circle next, and their naked flesh dripping the claret juice from the cracking of leather on soft flesh.
After that, it was to the trough, and they fed heartily, needing every grain of the slop to keep their strength up.
Watching them at their food, we began to go all horny, thinking of sexy things to do to them and to each other. Ruth dragged me in close, burying my face in the expanse of her bosom. I tasted the hot buds of her nipples and the warm surrounding foam of undulating whiteness, which I buried in my mouth, teething and sucking at the flesh.
"Come on boy, let's see how much you've learned."
I knew what she wanted me to show her, and I was more than ready. She led me by the balls, her hand cupping them while the whip played upon my bottom wielded by her other hand.
I moved my ass around, tossing my bottom from side to side, enjoying the way she was toying with me. She gave me a cut and the sting ran through my buttock. I found a small trickle running from the wound, and then the next slash hit me over the first one, crossing it, and my bottom jumped under that impact.
"Come here, my little bastard."
She crammed tit into my mouth and plopped down on her back, pulling me down on top of her, stuffing her tit deep into my yap until she had filled my mouth to overflowing with boob meat.
Her legs kicked straight up, the thighs rippling as they encircled me in a tight locking embrace, holding me in. I shoved into her cunt, her body rippling and tossing, her hole opening up to engulf me. She pulled me in all of the way and then she began to fuck me. She tossed around and turned over, taking the top position. Her hands worked on me, firing me up. Then she took the riding crop and she used it on my chest, cutting welts into me. She hit me pretty hard, and the wild pain made me hot as hell for that rich body. I fucked away at her, driving into her cunt time and again, eager to please.
I filled her snatch with hot come, and her pumping legs locked me in, almost snapping my spine in two. She rode me into the ground, her power awesome as she fucked the shit out of me.
It was time to get back to the real fun. She helped me to my feet, not showing a trace of exhaustion herself, but having almost wiped me out. I was shaky and weak. She lifted me up and we went back to where the games were in progress.
Alicia was riding on Estelle's back. She was laying on with a piece of foam rubber pierced with numerous long needles. The sharp points dug into Estelle's fat ass and he left a trail of blood behind him as Alicia moved him along, breaking his ass.
She whipped up his bottom until he was at the point of collapse, and then as he swayed and tottered, his legs going slack with every agonized step. She took the dildo up his ass and gave it a few twists and turns, giving him the incentive to keep moving.
"Get along little doggie."
With these words to encourage him, my sister sent him running and yipping along on all fours, giving him a shot with the spikes that buried them in his rump. When she yanked it loose, a spray of blood went coursing through the air. He was in difficulties. I came along to add to those difficulties. I let him have a kick in the butt that flattened him on his face.
"Son of a bitch," Alicia snarled. "You knocked down my horsie."
"Sorry about that."
"You should be. Now I'll have to mount another steed."
She chose the trembling Dave, now Janine, for her mount. She got in the saddle, letting him have a chance to lick and suck at her ass first. He buried his tongue up her bottom hole, and she mushed it in good, giving him a shot of the stench gun while she rammed his face in her can.
"Into the saddle and off we go."
She rode him around the room. She lifted up that pad and she sloshed it into his rump. The spikes sank into his bottom, and he let out a bloodcurdling yell. He went snapping and running, his ass leaking fluid out of the pinpricks. He got it again, and yet again. The pins sank into his ass at the whim of his gorgeous rider, and Alicia had the yen to sink those pins in time and time again.
Nancy was trying to crawl away from the carnage. Roger walked over to her, trailing a whip behind him. He gave Nancy the old boot right in the bare seat. He kicked open a wound, and then he swept a new one into the hot seat with his whip.
Nancy became frantic. He lashed out with a stiff arm and spilled my stepbrother on his luscious ass. Then he got to his feet and bolted for the stairs. He almost made it, but Ruth's whip tore out and wrapped around his legs, and he went tumbling down the stairs, where he lay on his ass ruefully looking up at us.
"This baby needs a lesson."
Ruth let him have the spike tip of her shoe on the right nipple. She ground her shoe down, spiking the heel into his skin, rupturing and tearing bloody his nipple. It was bleeding pulp and he rolled on the floor, his hands clasped to the injury.
"You dirty son of a bitch."
Ruth and Roger split open his buttocks with their shoes and then Ruth jammed one heel into his asshole. She shoved it in all of the way and ground it down, ripping and tearing at him until she broke the heel off inside the asshole.
"That should do for now, you damn bastard. We shall give you some rest now." Ruth gave him a kick to the belly, doubling him up into a knot. Then she sat down on his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck, clamping him into a sleeper hold. "Rest, you son of a bitch."
His tongue protruded from his gagging mouth--his face purple and his eyes popping, he flickered out into unconsciousness. She let him lay there, and went back to work on the others.
She lit a cigarette, and grasped one of Estelle's feet. We all held him while she branded him half a dozen times on the soles of the feet with that cigarette, making him howl. Cunningly, she clamped a handful of the meat of his rump and jabbed the cigarette right into the center of the flesh. She ground it out half way up his ass leaving a scorch trail all along the inside of his butt.
She whipped his nipples, his armpits, and the soles of his blistered feet. She whipped the rounded curves of his ass and the muscles of his shoulders. She whipped him until he was in a stupor of pain and there was no longer any point in whipping him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
We had them pretty beaten down in a short period of time. I loved to put them through the paces we taught to them.
I had Estelle in drag, staggering on heels with six inch heels. I made him walk around, his legs bare below his panties and garter belt. I flicked out at his undulating and wax sheened leg muscles with my cane, the flexible and whippy cane leaving thin red slash streaks on the skin.
"Move, you luscious girl."
As he walked around in a circle that I was at the center of, I played with his ass and genitals, reaching out to grasp and caress him. I sank my fingers into his ass flesh as it wiggled, continuously manipulating and kneading the flesh.
I sat on his lap, playing with him as if he were a girl. I kissed and licked him. I dribbled saliva halfway into his mouth, and letting it dribble down his chin. I opened his mouth and washed his teeth with my tongue. I spit behind his teeth, under his tongue, along the insides of his cheeks. I pinched and patted and stroked his cheeks as I played with him. I slapped his cheeks until the flush of color showed the sting. I played with his face, biting and nipping and gnawing. I blew into his mouth and nose, pinched his nostrils closed while biting his lips, played with his tongue sucking and licking and chewing on the tip.
I scratched and clawed his nipples, until they were half flayed. I taloned his chest, pinched and bit and pounded. I kept at him, making him sweat and then drying him off with my hands and offering him the palms to lick and kiss clean of taste.
I put him over my lap and played with his ass. I finger-fucked him while singing and laughing; keeping count of the spanks in singsong, I scooped up his ass flesh and hammered it merrily making up the spanking music as I went along.
I forced him to keep count in singing falsetto, and told him in stern tones to laugh with joy as I spanked the shit out of him. Obedience was my reward, he did as I commanded him without the chance to disobey.
"Keep singing, just keep singing."
Saying this, I cracked him harder on the rump, scratching him on the spanked skin as I played with his ass. He wiggled around in agony, his tears rolling down the cheeks as he sang.
I gave him the slamming hand on his bottom, keeping it up for hours without count. His rump was a swollen lump the color of blood. He whimpered and cried like the baby he was, craven and shit-scared.
"Can't take it, big man?"
I gave him some finger fucking up his asshole. I kept on jamming more and more hand into him until I had the whole hand jammed into him. That was one hell of a kick. He was whimpering and shaking and ready to explode with the suffering. His membrane passage was so fucking tight on my hand that I could hardly stand it.
I ripped my hand out and flipped him down to the floor. I did a walkabout on his ass, letting my heels drum up and down on the cushion of hot meat. His pain flushed and blood colored rump was a quaking and undulating mass under my heels, and I dug deep into the wounds with my stiletto heels, drawing the blood.
I lifted him to his feet, bent him over, and feed some ass crack to him. I turned around and flipped my cock against his mouth, bouncing it off his face. He closed his eyes and tensed up in misery, waiting for the intrusion into his face. I did not disappoint him, I shoved my cock all of the way in there and shoved it around, getting hard very quickly. I worked him over good, ramming it so far back that he almost choked on it, then turning and twisting all around, lunging wildly in his mouth, eager to hurt the fucking hell out of him. I had no mercy for the son of a bitch.
I rode him into my stepmother's room. His back creaked and shivered under me, all covered with sweat. I worked myself off, blowing my rocks on his flesh. My hand swung a short whip into his seat, crashing it home with every step that he took.
Ruth was waiting for him. She snapped her long black bullwhip out for him, wrapping it around his neck.
"On your face, you scum."
He went splat on his face, the snap back of the whip yanking him along the floor and almost tearing his head off. He choked and gasped, and his long blond wig came loose revealing the short croppy fuzz that was growing in on his bald head.
"What are you, son of a bitch?"
"I'm a lowly, stinking slave."
Criss-cross over his chest the whip snapped, carving a bleeding X into his flesh.
"What are you, dirt?"
"I'm a lowly, stinking slave bitch."
"You got a right answer out that time. I suppose you're beginning to catch on. Do you want to eat spit?"
"Yes, mistress."
She gave him the sign to open his mouth. He did so and received a spitball. He gagged swallowing it down.
"Come over here, bastard."
Ruth began to undulate and roll her thighs. As her purple lips and well sculptured vulva began to open and close revealing the tunnel of the vagina, she turned him on and me as well. Her aroma was heavy in that room, and the dildos and vibrators she had been using spread her flavor through the air.
She was hot and ready, and a jet of pussy cream ran down her legs as his face pressed to her pussy pelt. Her whip cracked a bloody line into his back, urging him on.
"Suck it, you bastard."
She gave Estelle the beating as he went to town on that big crack hole. He shoved his tongue in as far as it would go and munched on the lips the way Ruth loved it. And her whip played ruthlessly over his back, crashing at short intervals of space over his broad back, carving more welts into an expanse that was already heavily striped.
I thought of my first experiences with this family. Alicia sitting on my head as Roger whipped my ass, hitting me so hard that I popped my rocks as he flailed away at me.
I heard screaming from another room, interrupting my remembrances. I gave the bastard a bite in the ass to think of me by, and went to see what the fun was.
Alicia had Janine on his back, his legs up in the air passed through a pair of rings suspended from a trapeze bar. She threw a switch, and the rings rose up into the air. He hung naked, his arms dangling down, his fingers brushing the floor.
"Do you want to help me in this, little brother? "
"Sure," I said. "What do you want me to do?"
"Tie up his hands, or do something creative with them, so he can't use them."
I bound his hands behind his back, and ran the leftover length of rope around his thigh, sinking it in tight and then binding it so that his hands were well down his back and he was well clear of the floor, head down. I swung him, a living pendulum, wondering what would come next.
Alicia fastened a cock pump over his prick, a milking device that would squeeze the come out of his pecker and shoot it into a plastic bag. She gave it to me and told me to use it.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
She poured ice cold water over him. She wet him down thoroughly with it, and then went to work on him in exotic ways.
A rubber hose came first. It whacked and crunched into his wet body. The pain was excruciating. She slammed his belly and his chest with that rubber hose. She socked it to him and worked him over with a series of overlapping slices that struck at him from his waist to his neck. She tossed his body about, swinging him right and left, back and forth. The hose slashed and bounced off of his wet skin and I pumped his cock with both hands, jacking him off into the catch bag.
He was sick with pain, and I kept at him, grinding his limp cock erect again for another ejaculation. I wanted to pump his prick dry.
"Come on you bastard, I'm going to empty you out."
"That's the way brother, draw all of that come out of him. Spill it out."
She gave him a clumping shot right across the heart. He screamed. She whipped his shoulders and clawed bloody scratches into his belly and ribs, the pounded his shoulders with it.
He moaned and groaned, screamed and wept. He let out these horrible howling shrieks, and I pumped away at him. I worked his cock around, slamming the spasming tip deep into the scum bag, milking him with the pump, and squeezing his balls. The rubber hose was slamming on his ass now, and Alicia was burying her face in his ass, chewing bloody rips into his can while pounding it black and blue. We were remorseless torturers, and it was a game to see how much he could take.
His belly was the target again. The hose was a flashing blur as it stroked his guts, slamming into the undulating flesh with cruel violence.
I took a bite out of his ass, sinking my teeth into a bleeding bite mark and ripping a new series of wounds cutting into the bloody grooves. I spat out blood and swung him like a pendulum again, giving his cock a yanking pull and a pumping grind with every motion. I had him going now, and I was really pouring it into the son of a bitch.
Now we began to stick pins into him. I took him by his neck with both hands, rubbing his balls head into my hot groin as I swung him back, Then I let him go, and he went spinning into orbit. As he went through the arc, Alicia jabbed a six inch pin into his bottom cake right down to the tailbone. He let out another howl, and when he swung back, the pin came bloodily forth, shooting a thin spray of his blood out of the wound.
We played with him this way for some time, a hell of a lot of fun. We stabbed his ass until there was a layer of blood covering his whole rump, and there was little free meat left on his tail.
After that, we burned his bottom with lit cigarettes. We puffed hot the white cylinders, and when the red showed in the tip, we socked it to him, frying another small reddish mark into his tail. I held his ass cheeks wide apart while Alicia fried his crease line, the cleavage run between his buttocks.
Occasionally I gave his tired prick a few more drags with the pump, trying to get the last of the juice out of it. There was little left in that big cannon, but I intended to empty it.
We shoved the butt up his ass, and then we massaged the raw inside of his bottom hole with a brisk fingerfucking. A few jabs sent him into fits of screaming.
Alicia let the fool down. He writhed and tossed, a broken thing full of pain. Alicia soothed his flesh while I followed in the tracks of her hands stabbing the areas she caressed with pins.
"You wicked boy," she scolded me, pinching a geyser of fountaining blood out of a small puncture. "Why must you be so vicious."
I pouted. "Do you want me to let this stiff off."
She undid the straps holding his cock buried in the milking pump.
"That would be a nice thing to do. Especially as he wants to show his sincere regrets."
"How does he want to do that?"
She showed the catch bag to the fool.
"By drinking clean this bag."
"Every drop of it," I added. "And lick it spotless."
"No, no, no," he moaned, rapping his head upon the floor in his misery.
"Yes, yes, yes," I said, pulling and jerking his depleted cock.
"And you better do it," Alicia said, holding his ass cheeks in her firm grips and grinding the meat.
We put his face to the bag and fed it to him.
He made horrible gagging and choking sounds as it poured into him, and he half choked on the foul slop. We really socked it to the son of a bitch.
When we had finished, we made him chew on the plastic of the bag, gobbling at it with a sick face.
"Keep it up, we'll tell you when you can quit, you shithead."
I opened up Alicia's legs, and exposed the hot gash ready for my mouth.
"You dirty little bastard," she giggled. "What do you want this time?"
"Guess," I answered her, lunging to get my face into her hot quim.
"I ate at her cunt for a while, and she kept her hands in play, beating the ass of our prey. He had so much anguish overloading his nervous system by this time that he hardly noticed it. She kept at it for a long time, and when she finally had enough of this cruelty, he was limp. We had to give him a hot foot to make him spry and limber again, ready for more.
He got to his knees and begged us, kissing and licking our toes.
Alicia cocked a leg over his face. He opened up his mouth without command and drank down the load of hot water she poured into him.
She patted him on the neck afterwards, and gave him a piece of candy to eat. She let him have a few licks at her pussy as a reward.
"I suppose this son of a bitch is broken."
"You can say that. He really knows his place."
"Not trustworthy, but no longer dangerous either. The other two will be no great problem."
We rolled him around on the floor, playing with him like a pet dog. We licked and kissed his balls and asshole and gave him our parts to lap at and lick.
He took my cock into his mouth and gave me some great head; a really fabulous blowjob with his whole mouth in action, and not a single dead moment throughout the entire sucking pleasure.
Alicia gave him his name engraved dong to play with. We had no need to command him--he shoved it up his own ass and danced his tail up and down, moving the thing around with enough energy to give himself an asshole fuckout that made his cock erect, ejaculate, and empty out.
I fed him some sweets to blow the back of his brain and then we watched him smoke some hash for a while. That was just the medicine called for. After this, he was ours. We could do whatever we wanted with him. He was a trained animal, acting on cue.
We put a leash on him, and led him around on all fours. When his ass was patted he would obediently lift it into the air and wag it, receptive to either a caress, a finger fucking, or a heartless beating. He was equally turned on by any of these treatments.
CHAPTER NINE
We were watching Janine and Nancy at play. They were rolling around, sweating and puffing and suffering the toils of a wrestling match. Our whips lashed out to leave long red marks on the backs and the buttocks of the combatants.
"Five dollars on Nancy," Roger wagered. He looked at me. "Are you willing to put a few dollars on the other one?"
They seemed to be evenly matched at the moment.
"Yeah, why not. I'll put five on the other animal."
"You're gonna lose," mother informed me. "Your pick is at the end of his strength."
Mother had a touch for these things, and she turned out to be right. Mine lost, despite the urging of my whip lashing his exposed posteriors.
"Too bad," Roger chuckled, letting his hand roam up my thigh and under my panties. "You lose the bread, my baby brother."
"Well, I'll get you the next time."
"I think not."
"What do we do with them now," Alicia asked. "I'm bored with all of this fighting."
"When's fighting's a bore, that leaves the main event--fucking."
Mother clapped her hands, and the two slaves were instantly at full attention, awaiting her commands.
"Let's see some fucking. The winner can fuck the loser, shitheads."
That was the way they did it. We all sat there in a state of excitement watching it. Out of sight. That assfucking and sucking, all of the grabbing and the stroking of those busy hands which were never still.
Of course, all good things sometimes have to end. We were unaware that the bastard Scorpios were getting suspicious.
They had bitten for the idea that the three creeps had taken off--maybe for the East and maybe for the West, just somewhere the hell away from there. But their cycles were found. We had made the mistake of selling their machines in a town across the state line. They were found by accident, something we had not counted on.
Of course, those three cycle loving fucks would not sell their machines if they were cutting out for the coast.
So, they began to bug around, trying to find out what the fuck could have happened to their boss man and the other two. Their leader was on his knees, licking my mother's ass, but they did not know that. It would have blown their feeble minds to come up with that one.
Of course, they came around to us in the end. We were enemies, we were weirdies, and we had the setup. Plus the interest of Alicia, who had been seen with those three in a tight group on several occasions.
We were innocently unaware that they were plotting against us. That very afternoon that we were sitting around peaceful and amiable watching one prick fuck the ass of his brother prick while the leader had his nose in Ruth's ass, the Scorpios were on the hill behind the house watching to see what the fuck was going on.
"Hell," muttered the new and temporary leader, who had grabbed the name of Orion. "We can't see a fucking thing from up here."
"Yeah," added another. "They put in a higher fence and added wire on the top. That place looks hard to break into now."
There were additions to our household which were evident running in the grounds, two very large and very ill tempered police dogs.
"Those damn dogs look like something to worry about," Orion said, adding nothing that was not self evident.
"Fuck, our guys could be in there."
Orion used his feeble brains to think with. "Right on, they probably are, ace. But right now, we can't make a move. That is a tight setup down there. They probably have all kinds of shit down there--like maybe a few shotguns backing up those dogs."
Tiny babbled his rage, the biggest of them and the dumbest. He clenched and knotted his heavy muscles, pounding his fists on a tree trunk.
"So what the fuck do we do? " he asked.
"What we do," answered the temporary leader, laying it on so that they would listen to him attentively, "Is to get our hands on the next one to venture out of there, and get a few answers."
"That's cool."
"Damn right it is."
Maybe we could make a trade," Carlotta said. She was the girl of that bastard Comanche. She thus had an interest in him that was more than the artificial interest of the rest of them who followed him as a leader although not at heart giving a fuck about him.
"I hope it's that broad we get," one of them said.
There was general agreement on this point, and they were hot and horny thinking of things they could do with Alicia.
As it turned out, it was poor Alicia that they got their hands on. I was virtually a hermit in that mansion, now spending all of my time on the grounds. But Alicia had a yen at times to hit the town, and this proved her undoing.
She was in the combination luncheonette and poolhall that the assholes of the town strung out at, when the Scorps came storming in.
She was drinking a beer at a table, watching some stud do tricks on the billiard table with his cue. She was just killing time waiting for some hot shot from the local college to come around with some grass and hash; her dealer and late again.
She did not fidget or turn color when the Scorpios came in. This was over a month after the snatch of the three creeps, and she had been in town several times. We knew that they had accepted the idea of the three taking off without a word left behind for friends and family, not knowing the unpleasant bit about the cycles that they had located where we had foolishly dumped them, not having the sense to destroy them rather than sell.
Suddenly she was aware that the other occupants of the place were fading away, including the proprietor, leaving her alone with the Scorpios. She took a shifty eyed look at them out of the corner of her eye, keeping her face immobile.
They were trying to look nonchalant and unsuspecting as well. It struck her as incongruous and ridiculous. She knew that they knew and they knew that she knew and... so on.
She got up casually and laid some money on the table. Getting her heart up and feeling her blood pumping, she began to walk out of the place, trying not to make any kind of a fuss, hoping they would let her get out but knowing all of the time that they would not.
Orion put his booted foot out as she walked along the line of tables, past him. She noticed the cowboy design on his boots, wondering why she should think of such crap at a time like that.
"Where you going little girl?"
She smiled back at his dirty toothed smile, knowing that she was playing out the game before the thunder hit her. They were ringing her in.
"I'm going home, baby."
"We want to talk to you about something first."
Alicia picked at her hair, looking down at the floor.
"What do you want to talk about?"
"You know that we got three members missing?"
"Yeah, I know that they took off. I was getting close to Ted. I can't figure his leaving without saying a word."
"His chopper turned up in Lafayette. So did the other two, at a cycle shop there. Owner doesn't remember too much about who brought in the machines. Some kids. And that doesn't help us any."
"What does that have to do with me?"
"Comanche fucked your brother and your mother. So did some of the rest of us, you fucking freak."
Alicia flared up, but held herself in check. "Bad mouthing me won't do a thing for you," she stated evenly. "I don't know a fucking thing. I don't see the point anyway. So they sold their machines--so what?"
"They wouldn't do that."
"They needed the bread to move along on."
"They needed the machines to take them there. And you don't work on a custom chopper for months, and then sell it for a shitty price."
"I don't know anything about cycles."
"Do you know anything about our three missing brothers, Miss Shit?"
"I'm leaving now, you son of a bitch."
"The fuck you are."
Alicia moved fast. She took his foot that was blocking her way with one smooth movement, and yanked him off the seat. Even as his ass hit the floor, she was moving swiftly. She spun and gave one of the bastards a backhand chop to the neck, sending him reeling back. She plowed her elbow into the groin of big Tiny, and shoved him into two others, clearing a path for herself.
It didn't last very long. Orion reached up from the floor and pulled her leg out from under her. As she went down, a swarm fell over her. She was lifted to her feet and thrown over a table. A heavy hand came crashing into her belly almost tearing her inside out.
Orion restrained the enraged Tiny. "Go easy, you clown. We need her in one piece to answer a few questions. Let's get her the hell out of here and up to the clubhouse. She should be more talkative in a better environment."
They took her out and ran her over to their hideout on their choppers. It was not much of a place, a shitass fixit shop for their machines with some dirty mattresses for crashing and fucking and a few pieces of broken down furniture for the necessities of furniture. Not much of a hole but adequate for idiots.
"Now, you dumb broad. Suppose you lay some answers on us, and I mean the true answers."
"I don't know anything," she repeated stubbornly.
"Let me have her," Carlotta begged. "I'll make the shitty bitch talk."
"Go to it, baby."
They tore off Alicia's clothes, feeling and groping her to full satisfaction while doing it. They were eager for some kicks as well as some answers.
"String her up," Carlotta said. "Hang her up by her fingers."
Alicia was a screaming bundle of pain when they accomplished this, live wires running through her hands and up her arms. She kicked and lunged, and managed to hook one of them in the mouth with a wild kick, feeling teeth crunch with infinite satisfaction. A stiff arm shot from Orion kept this bleeding mouthed mother from totalizing my stepsister.
"You're not being very smart," he lectured her. "You're using up what little luck you have, and you're antagonizing the shit out of all of us. Now, I think you better start talking before we begin removing your head."
Alicia gave him some spit in the eye.
"Go fuck yourself, you faggot."
He took her pussy lips in his hands and crushed them to pulp. As her scream rose horribly into the air, vibrating and broken, he tore clumps of the hair out of her cunt mound.
"We can last you out. In the end, you'll talk to us, you bitch."
Carlotta began. She selected a garrison belt for the beating. She cracked in on Alicia's shoulders, digging an ugly red slash stripe into her skin. Blood ran from the tears in the track of the wide stripe. She kicked and rocked in her bondage, screaming but not answering.
"Tell it like it is, bitch."
"Go fuck your mother's syphilitic mouth." Carlotta tore up her tits with the garrison belt, slashing it front hand and back hand over the bouncy boobs. She cut them up pretty good, letting the studs on the belt slash and hack at them.
"This isn't doing much good," Orion grumbled. "I have a better idea."
He shoved two matches strung together up Alicia's ass, leaving the heads sticking out.
"Better talk to me."
"Fuck you."
He lit the matches, holding her cheeks wide apart to allow the matches a time to burn down to the outer anus without frying the ass flesh. It only took a few seconds, and then the flame was sizzling on her skin and she was yelling her head off, in awful pain.
"Ready to talk?"
Alicia twisted her head around and gave him some more spit to eat.
He pulled her legs apart and formed his hand into a karate finger stabbing weapon. Two of them held her legs fast in spread position while he formed his two long fingers into the proper knife blade. When he was set, he launched those fingers straight up into Alicia's pulpy quim with all of his might.
Alicia passed out and it took a bit of time before they could bring her around. The questions were still insistent, and they were not going to settle for the answers she was giving them.
"Be smart. We know your freaky family is holding them."
"F-fuck of--off."
They whipped her front and back simultaneously. The whips hacked and lacerated her skin, the welts multiplying all over her gorgeous torso, the blood running down her sleek, spasming, sweat-sheened hips which were the targets for pounding paddles in the hands of the vengeful girls of the missing men.
"Talk, or we'll kill you."
They let her down and rolled her up into a ball, ass high in the air, head dragging in the dirt. They filled her rump with red-hot pins, heating them with cigarette lighters until the metal took on the reddish glow and stabbing them into her tush with swift, violent thrusts.
They began to fuck her. One after the other they dipped cock into her spread open honey box, plowing brutally into her muff, slapping her face and beating on her until her beauty was disfigured by bruises and cuts.
They tore her ass off, beating on it with boards and with clubs. They pounded the whip welted, pin punctured ass until it was bruised, bloody pulp. They made her crawl the gauntlet while doing it to her, and the girls were the most vicious of all.
Slowly, she broke down under the pounding. Human flesh could take only so much. When her ass was so bloody and pulped that the mere scooping of it from one hand to another caused terrible suffering, she broke down and began to talk.
"So you have them," Orion said. He patted her on the head. "What have you done with them?"
She would not answer this one until they began to give her the lit cigarette treatment on her breasts. The vindictive Carlotta singed her nipples, making small burn tracings around the nipple pimples before stabbing the flame into the center of each nipple, right on the vulnerable peak.
She told them all--the beatings and torture--the burnings and humiliation--the dressing up as girls and the fucking of their bodies. "Fucking degenerate scum bitch!"
This outcry came from the foam flecked mouth of Tiny, who was bugging out of his fucking head listening to this catalogue of atrocities committed upon the bodies of his buddies.
It took three of them to hold him off, and the words of Orion to hold off the rest of the pack.
"Wait, you dummies. We got her but they got our three amigos. We need her healthy for a trade. We gotta get this thing organized."
"Let's rip her ass some more anyway."
Orion let his hands wander over her bleeding ass.
"We ripped enough. We have to keep her healthy, 'cause we won't get our three mothers out of there without trading for them."
"Let's attack that place."
"They have dogs, guns, karate, all kinds of shit. We could get messed up. Believe me, this is the best way. They have three of ours, we have one of theirs. We trade off."
"What then?"
He grinned. "Then, when we have our guys back, we kill the fucks."
CHAPTER TEN
A day passed without Alicia showing up. We knew by then that something had gone wrong. We knew enough to expect the worst. We threatened our three captives with dire consequences if their people hurt her, until they were sick with fear.
A bull horn sounded from outside the wall. "Hey--fuckheads. Somebody come out of there."
We came out, mother with her gun in her belt and us with the dogs in tow, wondering what the scene would be.
On a hill, we saw Alicia with the whole pack of them. They were heavily armed, and ready for action. There were more than we had counted on, they had some brothers from other clubs in other parts of the state. We had not guessed that they could pull in so many.
Mother walked up to the gate, where one of them was waiting under a white flag. He looked fucking nervous.
"What do you want, fag?"
He ignored the insult, and laid the terms on her--an exchange of three for one.
"What have you done to my daughter?"
"A lot less than you did to our three buddies," he retorted. "What's your answer, lady?"
"We'll trade of course. But how do we work it?"
"We'll meet you at the gate and trade off."
"Fuck, no. You'll stop with her one hundred yards from the gate. She'll start forward at the same time as our three prisoners start forward."
"Fair enough."
"And no tricks. I have a gun."
"And we have forty brothers ready to fight."
"So we'll make it fair."
The trade was set, and we opened the gate, all of us nervous, as Alicia was brought up. There was one hell of a lot of them, all right.
"Son of a bitch," Roger said.
We looked at our three captives. They seemed shocked at the idea of going back to their buddies in the state they were in. Their asses were still stinging from the dongs wedged in them, and the welts on their skins were still fresh.
"This could be sticky," Ruth whispered to me, "if they try anything."
Ruth turned to our three freaks. "As you walk, I want Nancy and Janine to fan out, so that they pass Alicia no closer than ten yards on either side. And you, Estelle, will get no closer than five yards to her. If you try to make a grab for her like in some cheap Western, and get her in your hands while getting free from us, you'll never pull it off. I'll blow you apart with my revolver. Got me?"
Comanche--a.k.a. Estelle nodded. I doubt that he had the mental alertness left to think of such a thing himself. He was really fucked up at this point.
The other side was all ready. We gave them the signal and Alicia started across. She was stumbling and shuffling, bloody marks showing on her torn clothing. She had obviously been tortured.
There were curses and cries of outrage when our three boobs came prancing out in slow, hip rolling girl walks. It had been a strenuous training and it had taken on them. They soon adjusted, and began to walk in normal fashion. Of course, they were still a ridiculous sight, in their drag. We had not seen fit to change them, why spoil the humiliation for them and the others.
Look how they fucked up our guys," Tiny growled, flexing a chain in his hands.
Orion slapped him on the shoulders. "We'll get them buddy. Soon as the Scorps are together and solid again, we'll get those bastards good."
"We better."
Our three fools obeyed the instructions that Ruth had given them. They kept well wide of our Alicia, and they did not stop until they were back with their own.
We took the stumbling Alicia into our arms, and pulled her inside.
"Poor baby, what did those bastards do to you?"
Alicia shrugged. "It wasn't so damn bad. I can take all creeps like that have to dish out."
"Never again, baby, never again."
Staring at the creeps on the other side, and they staring at us, waiting for a move, was no way to spend a day. Ruth fired her revolver into the air.
"Tear ass out of here."
They took off, and we watched them vanish. "They'll be back tonight, no doubt about it."
"What the hell can we do about it?"
Ruth smiled at me. "I have a few ideas on that subject, doll."
The Scorpios took off with their wounded comrades, wondering what the hell was wrong with them.
"Hey, buddy," Orion said to Comanche. "You're the man again. Lay some words on us." Comanche was shaking and shivering. He was ready to pee in his panties, wearing drag and knowing that behind the smiles and words of welcome were some giggles. He had been beaten down and transformed, and some of it had gotten inside his head as well. Now, in the company of his fellows, he had to pull out fast and even with his mind all fucked up, he had to act like the man he had been until the time came that he was that man again.
He turned to a smiling mother and decked him with one mouth shot.
"What the fuck is funny?"
"Nothing man, nothing."
The leader of one of the gangs that had come along was also smiling now, and he had a chain in his hand.
"You think this is some kind of joke, Cherokee?"
"No baby, and I'm not laughing. You come at me and they'll be some blood spilled."
"Don't laugh, man."
Cherokee shrugged his shoulders. "Your people didn't say nothing about dogs and guns. Like five days a week I go to school. I'm gonna get out of this bag in another year. I don't need this kind of hassle. None of us do. You and yours are on your own."
He took off. The other outsiders went with him. As their machines moved off, a wild uproar of laughter burst forth from their ranks, washing over Comanche like a bath of acid.
He turned in wrath to Orion. His face was flushed with impotent hatred.
"You dumb bastard. Why did you bring in those outside shits. Don't you know they'll spread this all over the fucking state?"
Orion looked at him, beginning to boil. "I had to make a move to get you out."
"You didn't need them. They took off anyway, you fucking dummy."
"I didn't expect that. I did what I thought was the right thing."
Comanche lashed out, smashing in his front teeth. As Orion sagged, he got the knee in the nose, cracking it like an eggshell.
"Get up, fuck."
His two friends were urging Comanche on, but he had lost the rest of the gang without knowing it. He was acting out of panic and the need to assert his manhood, to prove that he was still a man. And also the need to hurt someone as he had been hurt. But he was beating on a loyal buddy who had been the leader in his absence, and he was repaying loyalty with brutality, and burning away all of the old respect for him. If he had lost their respect as he thought, by breaking under our brutality, now he was losing what little care remained for him, and turning friendship to hatred.
"Get up you bastard."
Orion got to his feet. He came charging in. Comanche in panties and bra beat the shit out of him. It was grisly and gruesome. He almost took his head off.
"Now get the fuck out of here," he screamed at the beaten down Orion.
Orion crawled, out, dripping blood from his battered face. Hostile eyes stared at Comanche.
"Get me my clothes," he screamed. "I want out of this fag stuff."
Some of them were thinking he belonged in it. But he had the residue of respect and fear going for him enough to make them obey this last command. But he was close to losing them for good, and he knew it.
He took them in hand and planned for the attack that night. He realized that if he failed to win this time, he would be washed up. And as he thought about it, he realized that win or lose, the word would go out on him. How he had been dressed like a girl--eating ass, cunt, and cock. Kissing feet and licking spit and sucking crud stains off of ass cracks. Yes, he was finished.
Thinking all of this, he was in a howling mean mood with his chick laying in his arms. His stupid Carlotta was laying words on him about how glad she was to see him again and the way she had beat the shit out of Alicia to make her talk.
"Baby," she whispered in his ear. "Your skin is sure smooth and sexy with all of that hair gone. You might keep it shaved for a while, I did it."
That was the wrong thing to say. Cursing and yelling, he grabbed her around the neck and began to choke her. He tore her clothes off and grabbed his belt. He whipped her churning, pumping ass to bloody shreds as she fought to break free. He tore her ass apart, smashing the whip into the lacerated cheeks as the skin burst and pulped and the blood jetted all over.
Screaming for help, Carlotta ran away, his strap cutting up her ass. He came in close behind her as she ran past the campfire and gave her a slice around the arm, cutting into her soft tits.
; She clutched her whip marked boobs, howling murder. He sliced her across the pussy, crushing her vulva lips. She went down, helpless, and he whipped her thighs, breasts, belly, and pussy.
"Hey man, keep cool." The voice belonged to amiable, dumb Tiny, and he laid a restraining, but gentle hand on Comanche's shoulder.
Comanche spun, shot from the hip, and decked him with one crunching shot.
"You stupid, shitlapping bastard. Don't you ever lay a hand on me that way again."
Instead of walking soft, the stupid fool was coming on like Hitler. That was perfect, he was hammering himself into his own coffin.
"Come, we have to hit those creeps."
He led the attack. By this time, whatever enthusiasm there had been for an attack was gone. He had ruined himself, and as we waited for him, we did not know that he had broken the ranks of his own gang.
The attack came in the small hours of the night. It was to be from all sides, with knives and clubs and chains. The gate was to be forced and then the creeps would come storming in on their choppers with their molotov cocktails and burn the fucking house down.
"Some body could be shot dead," Dave said to his leader.
Comanche looked at the shaking, pale yellow belly. His bondage ordeal had broken him.
"Listen, you dummy, we have to do this, or we're finished. Got it."
"We're through anyway. Let's just bug out of here and not stop."
"I'm not walking out of here, a loser. If I go down, somebody goes down with me."
They were as reluctant by now as the Italian army to get into this mess. As they began to file on their machines out of the assembly area, we let them have it. Tear gas canisters came hurtling into them.
"Fuck--they ain't in the house--they're out here."
A good offense is the best defense. We had left our fortress to hit them where it hurt.
"Get out of here."
The dogs came howling through the night, ripping riders off their choppers. We came down on them wearing masks, hitting them in the saddle with karate and cattle prods.
It was havoc and destruction. I got one of the broads by her tits. I sank my fingers into her boobs and yanked her off her feet. I lifted her over my back by the tits and then threw her on her ass. She screamed and cursed, and I let her have it again. Fun all of the way.
Comanche was down on his back. Mother was standing over him, pounding on him with her whip. She slashed the shirt off him and carved him up.
"You bastard, I've got you again."
One of his dudes came at mother with a chain. She gave him the whip right on the crotch. She sliced open his pants and gashed his dick. He went howling off, running and stumbling while her whip pursued, notching his ass.
Tiny broke away from one of the dogs, his arm bloody. Mother came after him, snapping the whip.
"I'm taking off lady. I don't give a fuck what you do to Ted. I don't want any part of this shit any longer. I just want out."
He went off into the night, leaving his machine. There were abandoned choppers all around the clearing. We let a few get away on their choppers, and we left the machines that were abandoned alone.
Mother looked down at the broken wreckage between her legs. Comanche was weeping into his hands like a baby. Res, one of the two dogs, came charging up and tore off a hunk of his ass.
"Eeeeooowwwww." Clutching his bleeding rump, the poor jerk blubbered and sobbed like a baby, broken and bewildered. Once again he was in our hands, and his whole fucking world had over turned on him.
We had picked out our three fools from the pack and trapped them clean. We had all three back again, and we knew that their buddies wouldn't be willing to come after them again, not the way they had cut out without a look back. We did not know the whole story until we had questioned our three victims, but we guessed that a disaster had occurred.
"Glad to have you back," Mother snickered. "Well, Estelle, it was all a stupid dream. Did you really think you could become what you had once been and take vengeance upon me? Foolish dummy. Stupid bastard. Your friends have all taken off, and I don't think they're gonna make any more trouble for us or spread around the word on what has taken place. They don't want the pigs poking into their business any more than we want them poking into ours. So welcome back to the club, baby. I think you're with us for keeps."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
When you fuck around with your betters, you get your ass in the can. We had no more sweat with any of them. We learned over the next few weeks that Orion took over the Scorpios and under his inspired guidance they concentrated on getting loaded and getting laid. To hell with the three idiots. They had been rescued and they had caused a lot of sweat and commotion. They talked it up so that the whole deal was the fault of the Three Stooges. They had been faggots and stiffs from the start--yeah. Orion had a busted head from Comanche to show for his troubles, and for all he cared, Comanche could rot in hell from then on. So they were out of it and keeping very quiet and cool about what had happened. They knew from nothing on the subject.
We had our own troubles to bother about. First on the agenda was a new program of revenge, in which Alicia got her vengeance upon the bodies of our three returned Angels, tearing off their tails.
"I had my ass busted," she sweetly whispered into Estelle's ear. "Now I have three Scorpios to work out my grief on. Tough shit for you, big boy."
She tied Nancy and Janine in the sixty-nine position, face to crotch, stuffed with the meat and ready to eat more. She was really hot for vengeance, and she beat on Estelle while the other two whipped the shit out of each other's dicks with their tongues. They hungered for it, with her whip to stimulate them.
Alicia spread her victim out on the floor, pinioned hand and foot between four ring bolts fixed in the floor, a bug spread on a collector's plate for drying out. He wiggled and kicked in an amusing way, sweating and shivering with terror.
I was whacking his feet with a small piece of bamboo, just slapping away at the soles of his feet, leaving small streaky slash marks on the skin. He was jerking his legs at the pain, dragging and scraping raw his ankles upon the bonds that held them.
Alicia began by sitting on his chest and brushing his teeth. She used laundry soap for the toothpaste, tearing the bristles of the brush to' shreds in her too violent brushing that bruised and gashed bloody his lips, gums, and the spaces between his teeth. He choked and coughed and swallowed soap form.
Alicia bounced up and down on him, her ass rippling sweetly before my eyes. I gave her little digs with my fingers into both her front and rear orifices, and she shower her response with a generous wettening of her pussy hole.
Alicia washed his face with sandpaper, brushing it over his skin and then digging salt, pepper, lemon juice, and vinegar into the bloody mask she left there. He screamed and pleaded at her evil, mask of a face that showed no regrets or squeamishness.
She dug needles into his chest. She speared his nipples, ran the lengths of the needles parallel along his chest, and then sawed and thrust back and forth, pumping small trickles of blood out of his skin with her brutal treatment of him.
Her hands ripped into his skin, scraping deep furrows into him back and forth until she had flayed wide stripes of torn away skin upon his chest.
Alicia seized his cock and hammered it into a metal cylinder, a hollow container which she stuffed with his meat. She pumped his cock up stiff and then she compressed the end of the container just below the head of his cock, the end that could be compressed in diameter, and she did this to trap his cock within the cylinder which now took on the aspect of a semi-cone, one end wide and one narrower, but not fully closed. Now his cock was trapped within this implement and it throbbed with pain as she pumped it without mercy.
Under his fingernails she probed with the grating body of a nail file, sawing away at his nails, leaving his fingers bloody and torn. Then the point was dug in, tearing away at the joining of skin and nail, until his fingers were twitching extensions of his spasming, pain wracked arms, and the blood continued oozing piteously.
She took his armpits, and she rubbed away the short fuzz of hair that was beginning to sprout in the shaven armpits. She sawed and scraped this short foliage with the sandpaper, and she kept at it until his screams were unbearably intense.
"Coffee break time," she sang out.
She sat on his chest drinking hot coffee. When she was satisfied, she took the pot and emptied the entire remaining contents of hot coffee down his throat in one effort. This silenced his cries of agony for a time, his voice literally melted away.
There was now the second round of fun. Alicia stabbed the fingertips with the needles, she kept on prodding him, sticking the needle into his palms, into the loose skin between his fingers.
She kept at it until she had worked on every part of his hands. Then she turned her attention to his feet. She stabbed his toes, his heels, and the soles of the feet without mercy. She stabbed lines of puncture marks up and down the calves, returning to the feet for more treatment.
"This son of a bitch is even more pitiful than he was the last time."
I thought about that. "I suppose it's the abandonment of hope that makes him so melancholy."
Alicia pinched up his face into her hands and stared into his tear gushed eyes.
"Is that the truth, baby? How fucking sad. Well, it can't be helped."
My wicked little stepsister sat on his face, opening wide his mouth to give him some golden nectar to drink. She sat on his face for a long time, feeding a heavy dose of the piss to him.
After that torture had been accomplished she stood up on him and walked around on his flesh. Her heels dug into all of the soft and tender places. She did this first on his groin, spike heeling down into his mound. She stamped on his belly and felt in his ribcage for all of the vulnerable places.
She sat on his face again and began to tomtom drum on his belly with both hands. She beat her rhythm faster and faster, with crescendoing violence. His flesh rocked and boiled, and the color became dark red.
She began to roll back and forth on him, from his head down to his feet. As she rolled she dug her nails into him, raking him bloody in fresh places.
He babbled and raved in his anguish. We fed him some stimulants to keep him with us and continued the massacre.
Alicia took his face in her hands and began to massage it. She crumpled the skin like paper through her hands, twisting and grinding. She scooped his lips into her fingers, clawing her nails into him, and then ripped and yanked at them until blood was running freely out of his mouth and his lips were swollen and bloody pulp.
She took her fingers and sank them into his belly, driving down and screwing around, sinking in as far as she could, pumping up and down, doing pushups with her weight behind the stabbing finger thrusts into his body.
I could no longer stand to keep out of this, and I took the other two fish and went to work on them. I did a few of the fingertip pushups in their belly fat, sinking black marks into unmarked virgin flesh. I clawed and ripped and punished and crushed. I took flesh and ground it to pulp. I jerked and pumped handfuls of the flesh until it was all black and blue.
I pounded their cocks into their mouths and bound them in a double ball, cock to mouth. I rolled this ball from one corner of the room to the other, bouncing them off the walls. I hit and slapped and smashed and pounded. I gave them all of the hell I felt like dishing to them and then a bit more for the fun of it.
"Bring them over here," Alicia said. "Roll them over this creep."
"Sure, why the fuck not."
"Be careful, you might crack his ribs."
"Would you give a shit?"
Ruth came into the room in time to catch the tail of this conversation.
"I would, although she might not. Ribs have to be repaired by a doctor, and that causes one hell of a lot of trouble."
"Do you think we've seen the last of the Scorpios?" I asked.
"Yeah. Maybe they're thinking about lost face but that doesn't mean that they're ever going to face up to us again for any reason."
"Not if they're smart."
"That's the rub. But I think they won't ever be poking around here again."
Alicia poked her fingers at some of the more evident marks still marring her skin.
"I'm only sorry that I can't have my shot at the rest of those bastards."
"Let it ride. We're lucky that it worked out so well."
I moved my human ball back and forth gouging the fatty parts with my foot.
"So can I roll this ball over him or not?"
"Go ahead."
The double load of fat and heavy male flesh rolled over Estelle hurt the fucking hell out of him. He gave out some fresh yells. All music to our ears.
"Do it to him again."
I did it one more time, and he went off his nut. He howled the house down.
Alicia dug her hands into his ribs. She punctured her fingers up under each rib and dug around brutally for the bone. She clumped down on each rib and bruised her hands back and forth.
She channeled marks into his skin and then tore up his sides. She pounded each rib one by one and then she scraped raw nails welts into his skin.
She took his legs and hammered her hands into his thighs. She kept it up for almost half an hour while I feasted on Ruth's sugar tit and we thrilled off to the watching of all this slaughter.
He was useless for half a week. Strapped down to his bed, tossing and moaning in half trance through the nights, he was impervious to further harm until he had recovered his sense and his health from this last ordeal. And so, we left him alone, to recover.
He was a broken shell after this. His common position was on his knees, and at the snap of a finger, out would come the tongue obedient to all demands. We had him thoroughly under our command.
The others were also our creatures. There was no point in letting them go, and we decided to hold on to them for a long time, our guest slaves in residence.
I often sat on a face, mushing my ass around, letting the hours go by in kissing and licking.
"Which one do you want?" Alicia would ask.
I would think about it and then make a choice. I would select a human face to sit upon while watching the boob tube. Alicia would make her selection, and her pert and perfect little tail would bob and bounce through the hours upon a face.
We drank soda and beer, and we took our leaks where we sat into waiting mouths.
We tested dozens of whips and straps upon them, and we fed them cock and cunt until they were familiar with the changes of our sexual smells through the heat changes of the passing days.
"Are you happy this way?" I asked the ex-Comanche, sticking pins into his ass.
"Yes, yes," he lied, feeding me his bottom to crack my whip upon.
"You don't know how pleased that answer makes me."
I gave him the strap in the balls of his feet to show him my joy at his answer.
It was not all punishment of course. We made them spend hours licking and kissing each other, puppies at play in a giant litter basket. The dehumanizing processes were the biggest kick of all. We were expert at it, and we always had a new gimmick to try out upon the hapless threesome.
We were building up to our big party, where we would put the trio on display for our friends who came for a once a year bangout. It was all we could afford to carry through, being careful still of our reputations in that pissass place. We did not want notoriety of course.
We taunted and terrified them with the news of this great painfest to come. I showed them the costumes they would wear and described the pains that would be inflicted.
Estelle wept, the faggot baby, and I comforted with the thumbscrews. Under the bone crunching twist of this device he became silent and non-troublesome.
"Bravo, you learn quickly."
To show my appreciation I gave him the flicking of the whip on his cock and balls. He did a belly dance in and out of the path of my whip, singing to it with broken sob wracked voice, singing of his pleasure at being debased and used.
"Good slave."
I fed him raw chili peppers and he gobbled it like sugar candy. He panted and clapped and begged for more while strangling on it. I fed it to him and slapped his face while yanking on his yoyo and telling him how much it gave me pleasure to be so good to him. He took down hypocrisy into his craw with the rest of it, fearful of displeasing me. I laughed at all of the horror that he experienced.
"Poor bastard."
I spoke these words even as I gave him new pain, and then I fed my feet to him and with his well trained tongue he licked away all of the dirt to swirl down his throat with gogs of spit and pints of piss.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was party time. I walked around in a slinky black gown, wig done up in piles on the top with cascading hair floating down my back.
My ass hung out of the hole where the seat should have been and hands cracked and prodded my rump. It was beaten and slapped, and I took it all in, enjoying it all immensely. I shoved out my ass for hands and pried my cheeks apart for fingers. Ruth felt my ass up with her black gloves, and under the leather her prominent and sharp nails made me tingle.
Our three freaky slaves were the center of our attention. In bras and panties several sizes too tight, with, their waists crushed in the wasp-waisted belly cinchers, they were a sight to be- hold and use.
I took Estelle over to the trapeze bar in the center of the fun room. I ran strips of leather that extended from the bra up his arms and around his thumbs. I attached these to ropes over the bar and strung him up. Now I wrapped thongs around his big toes and tied them off to his arms. His legs were drawn up behind him and he hung from his thumbs, howling in pain.
Naked girls walked around the room, finger-fucking one another and jerking off for the general amusement. They pissed into champagne glasses and they fed the golden water to the cringing slaves, who drank it down with an avidity that only the whip inspires.
"What a wonderful trio of slaves you have," whispered Trilby, a delightful young thing who sometimes sat on my face for hours while I ate her box and ass.
"They'll be on sale in a few months at auction. Keep that in mind."
She walked over to Estelle hanging in bondage and pulled down the top hem of the panties, exposing the crack line and a good amount of cheek.
"Good ass."
She ran her hands over the generous amount of whipped, cooked, pounded, and kicked ass thus exposed. A thing of beauty it was not, with all of the markings on it. Trilby took her long cigarette in an overextended holder and burned a little round bum mark on the left side.
"Out of sight."
I took her by the arm and put her tit in my mouth. It had a vanilla flavor, from the exotic little body salves she applied to her knockers. I bit and fanged it, and it became hard and hot in my mouth. I walked her off, fingerfucking her to both our contentments.
Nancy scurried along the floor, a frog with the ass high and the face down chained into a running, rolling squat, iron rattling as he moved. Whips flailed and broke the ass. Roger followed behind, whipping the ass bloody. He laid out half a dozen cuts on the rump, slicing into the hot meat, making the blood spurt from the wounds. He cut into the cheeks until there was no unmarked area left to lash his whip into.
I took the girl into another room, and tore off her scanty garment. I ripped my nails into her back, up and down and back and forth. I took her meat into my mouth and chewed it. I threw her over my lap and whipped her bouncing ass. Up and down it pumped to the insistent beating rhythm of my whip.
"Beat my ass off."
"Trilby, I am going to skin your little tail."
I gave her the whip, first streaking the center rises of the soft fleshed little tail. Then I began to overlay the cuts, and hit her diagonal blows that tapered off on her back and her thighs, small marks that were thin and a shade of light crimson. Her flood of pussy juice running on my lap told me how excited she was. She sweated and gasped and dribbled from the mouth.
I whipped her ass and then I gave her back a beating as well. I hit her out of love and desire, and I thrilled to thinking of what I would do with her.
When this had been finished, I spread her can open and rolled her over. Her cunt lips trembled and palpitated, and her undulating flesh was all in rolling, creaming movement with her lungs pumping air and her mouth gasping out coming sex sounds.
"My little fucking nympho."
"Take me. I want to beat the shit out of the salves after we finish."
I dug my face into her pelvis and brushed her hair with my lips. I ate her cunt meat and drank her fluid, I sucked her clit off until she came and made her orgasm again when she could not take any more. My hands cupped and stroked and pounded her ass and she dug her hands into my cheeks and tore up my ass as well.
Dripping girl come juice from my mouth I went back into the party to take part in the fun.
Nancy had ass up in the air squatting on a table. His bottom was being pounded by the guests, taking turns, one shot and then pass the stick.
A big black girl took her place and dug a can breaking hit with a strap into his bottom. The cheeks wobbled and waves spread out from the strike. It left a splitting red stripe right across the twin spheres.
The next one was Ruth, and she gave him a shot with a cat of nine tails. Nine jagged, raw bleeding tears in his ass globes. She tore blood out of the wounds with her bare hands and passed him along.
I took him and gave him a crack with a tawse. I split a nice cut into the left side. He howled in appreciation.
Trilby and I passed him by and went over to where Estelle hung on bondage. I cupped the sack of his nuts and balls in my hands. I squeezed them and put my mouth to the material covering them, sucking and biting.
Trilby took my hands and head away and began to punch and jab him in the rocks. He babbled and foamed from the mouth and she kept on digging short chopping jabs into his nuts. His green face showed the effect of this upon him.
Trilby beat off his ass with a baseball bat. She stepped into her delivery stance and took aim. Her pussy lips were opening and shutting and the fragrance of her snatch filled the air. She let him have the first crack, the bat landing across the span of the two cheeks, turning soft white ass meat to hard blistered red callous tissue.
"Son of a bitch. I'm not going to stop until I beat his fucking butt off."
Alicia put her mouth to Trilby's snatch, getting down on her knees.
"You beat it off him girl, while I eat all of that hot stuff out of your quim."
Alicia ate pussy while Trilby broke ass. It was a good combination and I sat down on Nancy's head, getting a hot air enema up the ass, while I watched the fun.
Trilby made the hanging body rock and shake. Every cracking strike beat into the soft meat, pounding it into a monstrous lumped and scarred mass. She broke the meat, smashed it to fragments. It was covered with great crooked, rounded, odd shaped rises upon rises of darkening and shifting scar ridging.
The screaming thing enduring this was glassy eyed and half broken. She kept it up, her face looking at his, her eyes eating in all of the pain and suffering on his face.
"More, more," Trilby muttered, speaking to Alicia at work between her legs.
A young man came over to join the group. He got down on his knees and put his face down to Alicia's ass. His own inviting bottom was gracefully pumping and swaying up in the air, inviting me to come over and claim it.
I strutted over, giving Nancy a few mouth cracking slaps and a kick to the ribs.
"Come on big boy, get that hole up there," I ordered, acting domineering and confident.
I split open his ass and held it in my hands. He looked up at me in surprise and bewilderment, and I slapped him back and forth on the butt cakes.
"Get your mouth down there and keep on eating at that ass."
"You heard him," Alicia added. "You could wind up like that freak hanging by the thumbs if you don't play it cool. Dig?"
He dug it. He put his face down and held his ass up for my use. I opened him up and dug my cock through the closed portal. I shoved it in, along a tight and highly resistant membrane tunnel. I cracked and blasted and plowed deep until I was sailing easy, moving a stiff and upright cock back and forth, fucking out a large hole in his bottom, fucking the shit out of him. "Yahoo. Ride it, cowboy."
I watched the swollen ass grow and suffer under the pounding of Trilby. I shoved cock in and out, with long penetration strokes, slow and straight. I held in good and had firm concentration. It was a first rate fuck.
He wasn't entirely happy to be getting a fuck up the ass, but what the hell--this was my place and I could do whatever I pleased with him.
I gave him the long fuck until I felt the pressure buildup and the nerve action that drove me wild. I shoved harder and faster, puffing and grunting away as I began to come. A load shot off in male ass, and tired I was when I lay down on the floor to eat at Trilby's bottom hole. My sister was still drinking the squirt juice out of her box and I put my hands on Alicia's cunt and ass, fingerfucked her and flapped her vulva, shoved fingers all of the way in and out of her asshole to feed my mouth, pumped and milked her tits and felt her up.
Our broken slave was babbling and crying and his bottom was unfit for further beating. We rolled on the floor in a close sex embrace, licking away sweat and sex liquids, while his body twisted and turned in the threshing of his pain.
"Let's blow some pot."
"Not a bad idea."
We all smoked and thought of new things to do. We took turns sitting on Nancy's head getting an ass lick and genital kiss from this slave.
Janine had a broken butt as well by this time. He was hung up like a side of beef by the feet. His head down to the floor, whips and straps broke upon him. His nipples puffed red under the pounding, piss ran out of his cock as his thing was hit and whacked. His hands and feet curled and clenched under the rasping anguish of the pounding upon them. He babbled and cured, broken and disheartened. He was hit and hit, and still it went on.
His ass was beaten all over again. His flesh was marked and scarred from neck to toes with the marks of our wrath. The dumb son of a bitch by this time had forgotten that he had ever been a virile stomping cycle freak, and he knew only the pain of being an ass whipping slave. He kicked and spit and gave out with the sounds of his pain. We wracked him up but good.
We played games with our three slaves. Into the sheet and up and down, bouncing them up and down until the sheet tore and the falling body hit the floor with bone crunching force.
Into the hollow glass ball, to be rolled and spun and tossed around. The naked, sweat streaking body inside spewing up and going sick.
Down the chute, rolling on steel prods and strips of sandpaper, all of the skin bloody and streaked with the marks of the side.
We put them through these ordeals and others that we dreamed up. Smoking pot, we drifted off thinking of the torturing of the slaves, and I dug face into the ass of Ruth and ate it out.
I took her pubes and sucked at them, drinking out her spasm tossed come as she orgasmed in staccatoed series of blasts, with my mouth draining her dry.
I watched the slaves down on their knees, servicing the guests. Tongues washed over bottoms and cunts, dipped into the boxes. Mouths opened to receive cock and ball.
Estelle on his knees, the main eating cat, getting one dose after another in his mouth, just gobbling it up and hating it. I dug his suffering and it made me feel grand.
We put them through this all night long, and they ate everybody at that blast.
Day passed and the party ended. We sent our guests on the way, and then there was the pleasures of cleaning up the mess.
It bothered us not,, since it was not ourselves to clean this crap up. We put the slaves to work on it.
I filled a bucket with water and soap. I tied a brush in the mouth of Estelle with wire, filling his jaws with the brush and then setting him to work with it, scrubbing the floors. I followed behind, my whip slashing his can as he worked. I gave him stinging, grazing little shots, letting the tip hit a section of his ass and just bounce upon it with short contact, little cuts that bled shallowly and quickly faded.
The cleaning up of the mess from the tables was accomplished by Nancy, hampered by the wearing of fingerless gloves. Most of the mess had to be carried by mouth, and we made this as unpleasant as possible.
Janine did the mopping, the handle of the mop held between his teeth and the work spurred on by the stabbing into his ass of a needle thrusting out of a long pole in the hands of Alicia.
We made them work. The sweat and blood poured off of them. We set them racing, one against the other, and there was agony for the losers.
Estelle passed out. A few strokes on the ass with a bat brought him back fast. I gave him a hotfoot to keep him energetic.
The night passed and became day. We dipped our three lusty transvestite faggots into the ice brine tank, thrilling to the cries of anguish the brine ripped from parched lips.
We fed them slop and put them to bed in the pen. We bedded them down on straw laced with briar thorn branches. Thorns pierced sensitive flesh, and the cries were muffled only by the weariness that overtook them.
Of course, we had no further trouble with either them or their one time friends. They were total slaves and we used them as we pleased, knowing that one day they would be sold off.
That day came. It was a successful auction, and the bidding went higher and higher. They were lovely things, all fluffy in lace and silk, welts showing dark and gory under the material.
Mother's shill jigged the bidding up higher. He was a skilled worker. He got the prices to the top and then dropped out without arousing suspicion.
Of course, we missed the Three Stooges once they were gone. But the bread was nice, and it helped us to relocate. For in truth, there were now too many who had inklings of the true nature of our activities and tastes.
We came across the country to the glorious West Coast, where the true nature of things need not be so rigorously concealed. Even now, we are searching around for the right situation. For our taste to possess slaves is back with us, the first occasion not to be the last as we had thought it would be.
Even now, we are looking over a motorcycle gang--a real pack with badass characters. This is not the kiddie freak pack called the Scorpios, this is the real stuff--all the more reason to get them into our clutches. We are just beginning, and I am sewing up a series of maid costumes for our new acquisitions, already staked out and approached by our pretty bait--Alicia. We are beginning to move, and things will happen fast.
