Chapter 18 Corral Torture Part 3 - Roped and Raped
Chapter 18 Corral Torture Part 3 - Roped and Raped
Honey was startled when Jack Slocum stepped forward from behind her and
started untying the cord that held her left wrist fast to the rail. Had her
prayers been answered? Was he going to let her go?
"Thank you, thank you," the words rushed out of her.
As Jack pulled her wrist-rope free, he gave her an ominous look. 'You ever
heard that old saw about countin' yer chickens, Princess? Mebbe you don't wanna
thank me jest yet. Put yer feet together!"
Her spirits dashed, Honey moved her pretty bare feet closer together. The
broiling Texas sun baked her nude body as she faced the Wilson corral.
"Closer, blue-eyes. I want yer knees as close together as yer cuntlips."
Flushing a rosy crimson, but having no choice, the beautiful blonde
teenager did as she was bid, and soon the rope that had been around her left
wrist had been wrapped around her ankles so tightly together that a playing card
could not have fit between them.
A second length of rope that had been used to tie her arms down, was soon
employed in binding her lower legs to the lowest rung of the corral. Then Jack
wrapped a third rope tightly around her legs, just above her knees. The
voluptuous, blue-eyed rancher's daughter had some difficulty maintaining her
balance with her feet and legs forced so closely together.
Soon her tawny thighs were cinched together too, but not with a rope;
instead Jack used a thin strip of reins' leather to encircle Honey's bare legs
at mid-thigh, knotting it so tightly that Honey cried out in pain.
"What you up to, there, Jackson?" Ernie called out as he watched the big
man untie Honey's other arm. Both of Honey's arms were free now, but with her
legs bound together, there was no chance of her escaping.
At this point Jack paused and stroked Honey's blonde hair softly,
admiringly, and then he slowly began unbraiding her pigtails, his fingers having
had plenty of experience with much more difficult knots than those in her golden
braids. Within a minute or two, Honey's girlish pigtails had metamorphosed into
a womanly cascade of rich blonde hair that fell down below her shoulders.
That gentle procedure accomplished, Jack grabbed Honey roughly by the
back of the neck and forced her blonde head down, under the top rail of the
corral.
"Well, I'll tell ya, Ern. I met a crazy old coot in the slammer while I
was there," Jack began. "Big old feller name of Vic. Everyone called him Vic
Shiloh, 'cause he'd taken a minie ball in the leg at Pittsburgh Landing in '62.
Before the war he'd been an overseer at the big Thornhill plantation down in the
Mississippi delta country."
Jack pressed Honey's head down so that her upper body was extended forward
over the middle of the three corral rails.
"Me and Vic used to trade yarns about all the women we'd had. And some we
didn't, " Jack chuckled at the memory. "One day we was out on the rockpile and
Vic told me that in the years leadin' up to the war, after his wife had died,
Colonel Thornhill had bought hisself a bunch 'a pretty young slave girls. There
was six of them cuties, the way Vic told it, one for each night of the week.
Marse Thornhill was a God-fearin' man, see, and didn't believe in diddlin' the
slaves on Sunday."
Ernie guffawed at such a praiseworthy example of Christian piety.
Honey was bent double over the midrail which pressed against the hinge of
her stomach now, and Jack undid the rope which lashed her right wrist to the top
rail, and pulled her two wrists together behind her back, and wrapped the cord
around them, pulling the knot tight, but leaving a few feet of rope dangling
downward.
"Now Big Vic, see, was an ass-man. And he specially liked the nice round
bottoms them colored girls had. The way he told it, every night after dinner he
would drag one or the other of those bed-warmers back to his quarters and start
off the evening by whipping her sweet young ass with a three-thonged strap he'd
made from the hide of a twelve-foot bayou gator. The old SOB called his strap
the Insta-gator. Cause them shapely cuties would start tremblin' and carryin'
on the instant they saw him reach for it."
"He made them girls count off the strokes too," Jack continued. "Claimed
he was teachin' 'em how to cipher. Haw!! He'd give the girl of the evenin'
anywhere from ten to thirty strokes dependin' on how much cotton she'd picked
that week and how enthusiastic she'd been about pleasurin' him the week before.
I reckon a coupla them girls who got really good at suckin' his hambone saved
theirselves a bushel of strokes with that gator-strap. Vic had all kindsa fun
with them girls, but buggering 'em was his specialty. The way Big Vic told it,
not a one 'a them girls ever made it outa his cabin without takin's Vic's prick
up her pretty ass before the night was out."
When he was done tying Honey's wrists together, Jack took yet another
length of rope and looped it around the young blonde's creamy waist twice.
"Take a deep breath, Princess," he ordered. When Honey hesitated, Jack slapped
her sharply across her shapely buttocks, causing her to draw in her breath, and
then Jack cruelly tightened the waist rope, narrowing Honey's already trim waist
by almost an inch, before securing her midsection to the midrail of the corral
with an intricate bit of ropework. Then he took a final length of white cord
and encircled Honey' throat and neck with it before kneeling and wrapping it
around the bottom rail of the corral before tying it off.
Jack stood up and eyeballed the results of his labors. The blonde
teenager's athletic young body had proved to be every bit as flexible as he had
surmised; the ripe, rounded ovals of her bottom were in a gorgeous 'fuck me'
position, high and round and emphasized to perfection by her inverted L-shaped
posture. Honey's sleek upper body protruded between the middle and upper rails
of the corral, while the moderately tight neck rope ensured that her head and
shoulders could not rise higher than parallel to the dusty floor of the corral.
Inside the wooden enclosure, Ernie the Weasel felt his prick swell with
pleasure as he marveled at the pendulous fullness of Honey's luridly-striped
breasts. Her pink nipples were like coral bullets aimed at the windblown dust
of the corral floor. The distended buds still bore the mark of his switch, but
they continued to protrude delectably from her luscious man-pleasers, as if
daring her evil captors to do their worst.
"Geesus, Jackson, you're the best," Ernie the Weasel enthused in genuine
admiration of Slocum's ropework. "I could chew on those big tits for a week."
El Raton scratched at his swollen crotch in a way that made Honey's stomach
turn. "Just you wait, baby, yer gonna get some more 'a this."
Honey stared at the horrid little man with disgust. So far, at least, her
bondage was not oppressively painful, except perhaps for the constricting
cincture around her waist and the thin strips of leather that bit into her tawny
thighs. The cord around her neck was tight, but not dangerously so -- there was
a bit of slack in the rope that bound her neck to the bottom rail and she
retained enough freedom of movement in her neck and shoulders to be able to keep
her head in line with her horizontal torso.
As he'd been recounting his yarn, Jack had been tickled by the way
Honey's shimmering buttock-globes had twitched convulsively every time he
mentioned the word 'strap'. He stepped forward and ran his big hands over her
warm ass-flesh. "Hey, Ern, hand me over that switch you whittled. I'm fixin'
to warm Honey's hiney a little."
Gibbs grinned and went to retrieve the switch he'd used to whip Honey's
big tits when Jack had had her position her breasts atop the upper rail. He
handed it across to his tall, black-clad partner, who took if from him and
swooshed it through the air a couple of times, close enough to Honey's ear so
that she could hear the swiftness with which the rod cut through the air. Jack
grinned a cruel grin as the taut muscles in her buttocks tensed most enticingly
in reaction to the sound.
"Anyway, like I was sayin', ol' Vic Shiloh said he fucked one or t'other
'a them hot-blooded young darkies in the ass every single night ('ceptin'
Sundays, of course) from the day him and Thornhill had celebrated the Dred Scott
decision together -- that was back in '57 -- until the day they heard that
General Beauregard fired on Fort Sumter, four years later."
WHAPPP!! Jack whipped Ernie's switch sharply across Honey's sumptuous
buttocks, driving her belly hard into the corral rail.
"Ahhhhh," she gasped softly. She could almost feel her bottom redden in
response to his blow and hated the satisfaction that that must have given her
tormentor.
Then, as if he had done nothing more noteworthy than swat at a mosquito,
Slocum went on with his story, while his scrawny, ferret-faced sidekick ogled
the helpless nudity of Honey Wilson as she strained futilely at her bonds.
"Later that afternoon Vic and Thornhill decided to celebrate the attack on
Fort Sumter. The purtiest of them six slave girls was named Ruby -- and Ruby's
big mouth had gotten her sweet ass in trouble again. Vic had overheard her
tellin' the other slaves that Mr Lincoln was gonna do this and Mr Lincoln was
gonna do that. Him and Thornhill decided they better teach the hot-blooded
little troublemaker a lesson, and an hour later the two of them had strung Ruby
up to a low-hangin' tree branch in front of the Big House.
"Then they ripped Ruby's short little sundress off of her and spent a few
minutes admirin' their prize. 'Cordin' to Big Vic, Ruby had that nice
coffee-with-cream Creole skin that a man can't help but want to take a whip to.
Him and Thornhill felt her up some while they explained to her that they was
gonna beat the "Mr Lincoln" sass outa her pretty young body. Then they started
in givin' her the fifty strokes they had promised her.
"It was a muggy day down in the delta country, and inside 'a five inutes
they were makin' the sweat fly off 'a Ruby's sweet young body with every stroke.
Vic was usin' his trusty three-thonged gator-strap and Old Man Thornhill decided
to break in a new carriage whip. Vic said they gave little Ruby ten across her
back, ten good butt-cutters, ten that wrapped around her pretty legs, and ten to
her flat little belly.
WHAPPP!!!! Jack slammed the rod into Honey's upcurved buttocks again. The
tall snake-eyed desperado studied the rosy imprint his blow had left for a
moment or two, and then picked up where he'd left off.
"Vic saved Ruby's tits for last. Thornhill hadn't ever let him whip the
girls' titties before, cause he'd paid good money for them girls, and he knew
how Big Vic could kinda get carried away sometimes. But seein' as how Vic was
gonna sign up with the Colonel's old regiment, the Fourteenth Mississippi, the
next mornin', the old man decided to let him have a little goin' away present
that last night. Besides he figgered it'd serve as a warning to the other
slaves not to act up while Vic was away. The slave cabins was down an old dirt
road way back behind the Big House of course, but the way Vic told it, by
sundown you coulda heard Ruby hollerin' across ten acres of delta cotton."
WHAPPP!!! the switch cut across Honey's deep butt-cleft with punishing
force.
"Aarrrghh!" Honey moaned as she wiggled her burning bottom as if her
movements would somehow quench the flames that consumed her luscious asscheeks.
But all her gyrations did was send tingles of lust through Jack's sperm-heavy
balls.
"Where was I? Oh yeah, Ruby. She was a pretty little thing, Vic said.
About sixteen then, with the innocent face of a fourteen-year old but the curves
of a full-grown woman. 'Cordin' to Vic there couldn't 'a been three bed-warmers
between Jackson and New Orleans with titties as round and firm as hers. Well,
Vic and the Colonel worked her brown boobies over good that night. They stood on
either side of her smokin' Havana cee-gars and sippin' the Colonel's brandy
while she swung back and forth under that tree branch. Every coupla minutes one
of 'em would hand his his snifter to the other to hold and give Ruby a high hard
one, takin' turns until they had given her the ten they had planned on. The
Colonel was goin' on seventy, Vic said, but he still knew how to curl a carriage
whip around a nice set of knockers. And Vic weren't no slouch neither, of
course."
WHAPPP!!! Jack caned Honey's blushing asscheeks again, down low, just
where her taut thighs melded into the base of her bottom-curves.
Honey Wilson let out another cry as she squirmed in pain.
"In fact after they'd given Ruby what was supposed to be her last ten, Old
Man Thornhill had such a gleam in his eye that they decided to give her ten
more. By the time they was done with the second ten tit-splitters, that
carriage whip had busted Ruby's boobies open pretty good. Then they cut her
down and dragged her, kickin' and screamin' across the plantation grounds over
to the stable where the Colonel kept his horses. When they got there, they
threw that Creole beauty face down over a bale of hay and tied her down and took
turns jammin' their lumber up her pretty ass for the rest of the evenin'."
"By mornin' that haybale was covered with blood, and Wilkinson hung it up
like a swing from the branches of a magnolia tree, so the rest of the slaves
could see what they could expect if there was any more talk about Mr Lincoln."
Ernie had been listening with interest to the strange tale of Vic Shiloh
but his slow-moving intellect had fastened, as was his custom, on one detail.
"Geesus, Jack. He got laid every night for four fuckin' years? Hell, that must
be," Ernie paused as he scratched his scraggly chin and wrinkled up his brow in
fierce concentration, "purt' near five thousand pieces of ass, pardner."
Jack gave his partner a quizzical look and shook his head derisively.
Ernie's arithmetical prowess was about what you'd expect from a redneck who'd
got his lazy, ignorant ass kicked out of school in the third grade. Jack
thought for a second and then decided that there wasn't much point in correcting
his lame-brained sidekick. Instead he slid a hand in between Honey's tightly
clenched butt-cheeks, and then wedged his way downward until he could grope her
moist pussy, while the half-jack-knifed blonde squirmed in revulsion.
Honey had listened in horror while Jack had recounted his dreadful tale.
At about the point where Vic Shiloh and Colonel Thornhill were stringing Ruby
up, Jack had reached out and grabbed the four-foot long rope end that hung from
the wrists he'd tied behind Honey' nicely tapered back.
Honey gasped in pain when Jack yanked the rope end upward. What had been a
rather pain-free bondage position instantly became a painful one as Jack wrapped
the end of her wrist rope once around the top rail of the corral and then began
pulling.
"Aaaaaaagghhhh!" Honey cried out in agony as Jack cranked her arms and
shoulders painfully up behind her. As her shoulders were pulled back, the cord
that bound her neck to the lower rail tightened up as well, adding downward
pressure to her torso.
Jack had pulled at the wrist and shoulder rope until it was as tight as it
could be without dislocating Honey's softly rounded shoulders. The blonde was
hopelessly enmeshed in his painful web now, the shiny-new white ropes beautiful
against her suntanned flesh. The ropes pulling upward on her shoulders
counterpoised ingeniously by the ropes pulling downward on her neck. The tension
of the two sets of ropes had lifted her spankable, fuckable ass into even more
delightful prominence. Then Black Jack Slocum had picked the switch back up and
had used it twice since, as we have seen.
"Vic swore to me," Black Jack Slocum continued as he wiped the sweat from
his brow, "that the best fuck he ever had in his life, was the first time he
tied a girl up like this." Jack pointed at his blonde victim, whose deliciously
rounded buttocks were the highest part of her pretzeled body. "'The most
important thing', he said, 'was to rope your little dogie's legs real tight," he
continued as he gestured at the leather reins which had sunken deep into Honey's
tawny thighs. Jack switched Honey's bottom crisply again, burying in the rod
deep in her springy buns before their youthful resilience caused her ass-flesh
to spring back, ready for the next stroke. "Cause it tightens a woman up like a
glove that's three sizes too small.
"In fact," Jack went on, "Big Vic told me that when he first signed on at
the Thornhill plantation he'd had one the field hands, an old darkie named
Quincy, make him a big old wooden bolster, sorta like that ugly blue ottoman in
the Wilson drawing room only a bigger. Quincy was a real handy feller and did a
right fine job on it, too, stuffing the fabric up real tight with chicken
feathers, and then sewing it up nice as you please. When he was done, that
crazy SOB named it after hisself. Called it the Vic-timizer."
SMACKK!! "Aaaurrghhh!" Jack whipped the switch across Honey's rosy bottom
again, causing her to jerk in pain, to the extent her tight bondage permitted,
before continuing with his story.
"In fact, old Quincy did such a nice job on the bolster, that crazy Vic
decided he'd let the old boy watch him break it in, along with a few of Vic's
cronies that had rode down from Vicksburg one weekend. Some of them Vicksburg
boys," Jack chuckled at loud at the memory, "was so damn dumb that they believed
Vic when he told 'em the town had been named for his daddy, Keelboat Vic
Kingston."
"Anyways, the whole bunch of 'em stood outside of Vic's cabin window
watchin' throught the windows while Vic threw a fine-lookin' nigra wench named
Sarina over the Victimizer, and strapped her to it tight as you please, with her
legs cinched together just like blondie here. Y'see, Sarina had run away and hid
when Vic had come lookin' for her, all drunk and horny, the night before. And
Vic wasn't about to let no slave girls think she could get away with that kind
of nonsense. Not as long as Big Vic Shiloh was around."
WHACCKK!!! "Aaaeaiiiahh!!" Again the makeshift cane exploded acrossy the
creamy flesh of Honey's quivering ass-cheeks before Jack Slocum resumed his
relation of the exploits of Vic Shiloh, while Ernie listened spellbound.
"Anyways, after Vic strapped Sarina to the bolster, he hoisted her little
pink dress up to her shoulders -- old man Thornhill didn't let the young
colored girls wear no underthings, a course -- and he started in on her with a
birch rod. Now Vic was probably exaggeratin' but he says he started at her
ankles and gave her a cut of the birch every half inch all the way up her pretty
brown legs, her rounded ass and her long, tapering back, up to where that frilly
dress was bunched around her shoulders. A stroke every half inch would have
meant right around a hundred cuts, so I can't vouch for that part of it. But
however many it was, you can imagine that Sarina was wailing like an African
banshee by the time Vic was done."
"Then Vic dropped the birch and snuck up behind her, unbuttonin' his fly as
he went. He rubbed a little bear grease on his 'Stonewall Jackson'," Slocum
grinned at the recollection. "He named it that after the first battle of
Manassas, I swear to God -- and spread Sarina's cheeks and rammed Stonewall
into her big brown ass while his drunken Vicksburg buddies cheered him on."
"Vic didn't find out 'til later that old Quincy was Sarina's daddy, and
then he felt kinda bad about that part of it. The old carpenter took sick right
after that and passed on just a few weeks later."
Jack tightened his grip on the switch and drew a bead on the precise
middle of Honey's lusciously upraised derriere. Then he slammed the rod down
again, as if her were trying to give her a horizontal butt cleft as deep and
dark as the intriguing vertical groove that separated her tight-set
bottom-ovals.
WHAACKKK!! "AAIAHHHH!" Honey's cries were growing louder and longer
with every stroke.
Jack dropped the rod, and then slowly walked through the corral gate and
came around to face the blue-eyed teenager, undoing his fly as he did so. By
the time he arrived in front of her, his cockshaft was protruding from his
pants, hairy, hard, and horny. Stepping in front of Honey he grabbed her blonde
hair and lifted her head up so that she was facing his mighty manhood.
Jack positioned his cock an inch from Honey's full, ripe lips. "Better get
it nice and wet, Princess, cause I ain't in the mood to run into the house to
get no oil. You got thirty seconds, to lube 'Big Fella' up the best way you can,
and then he's goin' in yer ass, wet or dry."
"B-but..." Honey stammered.
"Thirty seconds, Honey. Clock's tickin'. I wouldn't waste no more time
if'n I was you."
At the sound of those words, Honey wrapped her mouth around Jack's
Texas-sized cock and did her best to produce some saliva. He moved his hips
forward slightly so as to fit more of his blue-veined organ into her mouth, as
Honey desperately tried to moisten its massive girth and length.
But the day was dry and fear and pain had rendered her rather dry-mouthed.
When the half-minute was up, Jack pulled out of her mouth, his cock moist and
glistening from her attentions, but hardly soggy and dripping. The rangy
gunslinger quickly stood up, strode back out the corral gate and came around
behind her.
Honey heard a metallic click as Jack undid the thick silver buckle on his
belt, and then she heard his pants slide down his legs. Two seconds later she
felt his big, powerful hands on her nether cheeks.
"Yeah, darlin'! Yer gonna be somethin' special, Honey-girl."
Jack unbuttoned the row of buttons on his dark shirt, while he admired the
shape of Honey's heart-shaped ass. It remained to be seen whether Vic Shiloh's
notions would hold true, but there was no gainsaying the fact that he'd never
seen an ass as fuckable as Honey's. Ripe, round, rosy, and astonishingly
deep-clefted --- and decorated with the three wide bands that Black Betsy had
left and the narrow striations left by Ernie's punishing switch.
Jack stripped his shirt off and then reached down and pulled off his black
boots and then shucked his pants and drawers off, and stepped up behind his
jack-knifed victim. The hot Texas sun felt good on his face and chest as he
inched up behind Honey and ran his hairy hands all over Honey's bottom cheeks,
stroking and queezing her warm, resilient flesh.
Ernie watched with amusement as the mortified expression on Honey's face as
Jack's hands violated her nude buttocks, slowly turned to one of horror as Jack
stepped closer, so that the tips of his big feet straddled her cinched-together
ankles. Jack stroked his immense weapon a few times, until his cocktip was a
deep, pulsing purple.
Then he slid his lanky but muscular body up tight against against the silky
skin of Honey's hips and thighs. He grabbed his rigid sex-pole and guided it
into the tiny vertical crevice where Honey's long, strong, bound-together
thighs, still bearing traces of the dark marks Betsy had left the prior evening,
melded gracefully into the curvature of her buttocks. Then he lifted his
throbbing monster upward between her legs, letting its Cyclopean head linger at
the portal to Honey's pink-lipped vagina. He steered his weapon up and down
against the tightly-clenched petals of her labia that peeked out ever so
slightly from her cinched thighs for a cock-pleasing moment. But he was in the
mood for other pleasures.
He guided his veiny phallus higher still, sliding it through the narrow
fissure formed by her buttock cheeks. "Yeaahhhhh," he groaned with pleasure, as
he felt the soft, firm flesh of Honey's bottom-globes caressing the length of
his brawny organ.
Honey grimaced as Jack toyed with her nether regions; his penis felt like
a fleshy club between her legs. But still he pressed closer.
Jack let his hairy organ make one more pass at Honey's quim, moistening it
with her secretions. Then, when his teasing club could no longer stand to remain
unsheathed, Jack's forceful fingers gripped Honey's naked buttock-globes and
parted them, revealing the crinkly aperture that seemed to wink at the hot Texas
sun overhead.
"Aw, she's got a purty little asshole, Ern, don't she?" Jack muttered
salaciously. "I'm gonna give you a break, Honey-chile," Jack growled, as he
spit heavily into her butt-crease; the gob of saliva would ease the entry of
his blue-veined cocktip into her delicate pinkish-brown rosette.
His thumbnails holding her cheeks apart, Slocum positioned his fleshy
piston, slightly moist from Honey's panicky licking, at the entrance to her
alluring anal ring and thrust forward.
"N-no.." Honey begged, as she felt the aggressive tip of Jack's horse-cock
press relentlessly against her puckering anus. She marveled at his amazing
return to full sexual potency after the marathon of sexual punishment that he
had subjected her to at the secluded lake little more than an hour ago.
"Unnnghh!" Honey gasped, as Black Jack's thick organ screwed its way into
the foyer of her tight muscular canal.
"Mmmm, baby," Jack muttered as he lunged forward again, determined to
conquer Honey's springy bottom. "Mmmmmm.... Yeah!" And then again, little by
little wedging his fleshy cudgel into Honey's resisting ass channel, as the
jack-knifed blonde wriggled in pain beneath him. "Take it, Honey. Take it in
your hot, tight ass!" The sight of Honey Wilson's cock-clutching pink orifice
stretched to the bursting point around his swollen dick-head sent delicious
thrills of pleasure pulsing through his plum-sized testicles.
"Oh, yeah! It's goin' deeper, blondie, lots deeper," Jack groaned as he
wedged his monster cock further into Honey's deliciously tight rear passage.
Once he felt that his rock-hard rammer was partially ensconced in Honey's
resisting rosette, Jack reached forward and seized the sturdy corral rail with
both powerful hands, and then, using the rail for leverage, he slammed his
cockmeat even deeper into Honey's rectum. Her frantic but unavailing efforts
to escape his phallic impalement only added to the pleasure of his pillage.
"Maybe next time you'll think twice about testifyin' against a fella who's
just havin' a little fun, Princess," Jack sneered. Waves of ecstasy coursed
through Slocum's cock-shaft and radiated through his long lean body as if by
magic, as Honey's rectal muscles clenched and unclenched around his massive
girder. Crazy Vic had been right after all, Jack thought; he'd buggered a lot
of bung-holes in his time, but lashing Honey's legs so tightly together, had
turned a routinely pleasurable ass-plundering into one that was
un-fucking-forgettable. Paradoxically, Honey's defiant efforts to thwart his
intruding organ, her frantic, hair-swirling side-to-side movements which were
intended to deny it further access to her elastic rectal channel, served instead
to milk his rockhard phallus, suctioning it ever inward.
Still holding on to the thick middle rail of the corral for leverage, Jack
thrust forward again, his hairy, well-muscled legs hard and hot against Honey's
taut, straining thighs. "Oh, geesus, that's good!" Grunting with pleasure he
thrust again. And again, as he went on establishing a painful, pounding rhythm
to his rectal rape. Within a few seconds Jack was sodomizing Honey with a
powerful burst of compact fuck-strokes that attacked Honey's shapelby buttocks
with Gatling-gun rapidity, slamming the teenaged blonde's naked belly against
the rough corral rail with every punishing thrust.
"Ungh! Unggh! Unngghhh!!" Honey groaned as Jack's piston fired into her
smooth-walled rectal cylinder again and again. Every concussive lunge sent
sharp pangs of agony through her back-bent arms and shoulders.
Jack's lightning-swift series of staccato thrusts set Honey's nude
tit-melons to swinging and swaying in time with his jolting sexual rhythm.
Entranced by their seductive bobbling, Ernie knelt down in the dust in front of
Honey and lifted her blonde head so that he could press his lips to hers.
Revolted by his foul breath, which stank of cheap tobacco and stale alcohol,
Honey turned her head away from his lips.
"What's a matter Honey-girl? Don't wanna give Uncle Ernie a friendly
little kiss? Now that ain't very nice."
"Ohhh, Goddddd, stop!" she begged as Jack slammed heavily into her rounded
rear again. And again. And again. Adding to the strain on her tortured
shoulders.
"Ram her good, Jackson!" Ernie exhorted his partner. "Blondie here needs
to learn some manners." Gibbs reached forward, trapping Honey's pendulous,
swaying breasts, still warm from the belt-whipping he'd given them, in his
trail-dusty hands.
Honey moaned in distress as she felt the Weasel's ragged nails did into her
tender love mounds. "Please .. not so ha... Aauggghhh!!" she wailed as Ernie
tightened his sadistic grip.
"Ohhhhhh, yeaaaahhhh," Jack exulted as his powerful body slammed ever
harder into Honey's upraised derriere. Then as a sudden stab of pain under his
right eye reminded him how Honey had broken his nose, he yelled, "Hey, Ern!
Make yerself useful and smack those juicy jugs around!"
Ernie gave Honey's pleasure-globes another brutal squeeze before releasing
them. The homely little man grinned gleefully as he used his left hand to lift
Honey's head slightly by her golden tresses so that she could watch his right
arm sweep forward to spank the outer curve of her left breast.
Smackkk!! "Ouwwww!"
"That's it, Ern! Work those tits over good!"
Honey's left breast was still bobbling gently when Ernie Gibbs switched
hands and whipped his left hand sharply across Honey's other lust-globe.
Smackkk!! "Aaaoooww!"
With his big black boots planted firmly in the ground, and his powerful
arms gripping the corral rail, Jack Slocum's long, lean body was a sinewy 6' 4"
battering ram, that pounded its way deeper into Honey's rear entrance with every
punishing thrust.
"Unnghhh! Mmgghhh!! Ummmgghhhh!!!" Honey's grunts of pain grew louder as
each of Jack's violent lunges forced his manly cock-knob another centimeter into
her magnificently upthrust bottom. "Please ... please..." she whimpered
piteously.
Just when her entire consciousness seemed centered on the stabbing, burning
pain in her ass, Honey felt Ernie's ragged fingernails gouging painfully into
her tender breasts again. "Ooooooohhhhh..." she moaned softly, a moment before
she felt the gut-wrenching pressure of another punishing lunge from the swarthy
gunslinger behind her.
Jack was beside himself with lustful pleasure. Vic's recipe for sexual
pleasure had been a complete success. Having Honey's lovely thighs lashed
together so that her hips and buttocks were forced to hug his plunging manhood
like a long-lost relative, made all the difference between a decent meal and a
sexual feast. It was sort of like how a hungry cowboy can dine on a chewy
sirloin in a Panhandle roadhouse and think he's livin' the good life -- until
he's tasted a juicy, two-inch thick melt-in-your-mouth-tender Kansas City
T-bone.
The entire length of Jack's Texas-sized phallus was imbedded in a blonde
Kansas City T-bone, and Honey's every convulsive spasm of pain squeezed its
punishing length deliciously. He let go of the rail now and let his hands wander
over Honey's golden flesh, enjoying the warm sweaty feel, and the womanly scent
of her splendid body. His greedy fingers crept spider-like over the soft skin
of her back, and then over the creamy rondures of her sculpted buttocks, and the
sleek curves of her bare thighs.
Inspired by the rising crescendo of Honey's ever-louder moans of
discomfort, Jack continued working his man-weapon in and out of Honey's inflamed
nether passage. His anal assault resembled the untiring staccato strokes of a
steam-driven piston, steady, forceful, relentless. The sexual pleasure was so
intense that he was torn between the desire to prolong the ecstasy for as long
as possible and the need to achieve the intoxicatingly sweet release of a
shattering climax.
"Unnngghh! .... Godd... please ... I can't take any m.... UNNGHH!!"
The wild-haired blonde's cries of distress grew louder, but only served to
make Jack thrust all the harder. Then he called across to his partner. "I'm
gettin' tired of her whinin', Ern. Why don't you close her yap?"
"Yeah, I know just how to shut our Princess up," Ernie gloated as he
released the breasts he'd been mauling, and tore at the buttons on his fly,
freeing his ugly little cock from its dingy, denim confines. Then he stood up
and moved closer to Honey and lifted up her head so that her lips brushed
against his prick.
"Open up, baby! Lunchtime!"
"UNNNNNGHHH!!" Honey groaned piteously again as Slocum jack-hammered her
asshole with another vicious thrust. Honey slavishly bent to her degrading
task. She opened her mouth wide as Ernie the Weasel slid his scrawny dick
between her lips, filling her mouth with the vile taste of his unwashed body.
As soon as her lips closed on his erection, she gagged uncontrollably.
"What's a matter, Princess? You forget how I fucked you in the ass last
night? Sorry, but I was so busy gettin stabbed and shot, that I forgot to bathe
this morning, your highness. But don't worry, you'll get used to it." Ernie
Gibbs slowly sawed his foul, scraggly-haired sausage in and out of Honey's young
mouth.
Meanwhile, Jack couldn't take it any more. He'd long-since lived up to his
reputation as Black Jack Slow-Come. His sperm-laden cojones were slapping
against Honey's luscious, cock-clutching ass with rapid-fire velocity as he
headed around the final turn building up speed like a Kentucky thoroughbred. He
grabbed hold of the corral rails again and redoubled his efforts. "Yeah! Yeah!!
YEAH!!!" he roared, his hairy gonads primed to pump what felt like gallons of
man-seed upward into his cock. He thrust again, reveling in the delicious
sensation as the intensely pleasurable moment seemed to be frozen in time. Then
he reached forward with his long, simian arms and seized a lush, ripe-nippled
Honey Wilson breast in each hand as he pounded his way down the homestretch,
giving his protesting filly a ride she would never forget.
The intimate muscles of the blonde teen-ager's rectal channel were being
stretched and pounded and punished in ways that she had never dreamed of. And
now Black Jack Slocum's big hairy hands had closed on her bobbling love gourds
once again and were gripping them so tightly that in her near-delirium Honey
feared that the unbearable pressure might cause her swollen nipples to pop off
of her breasts like champagne corks at a wedding.
'Take it, Blondie!! TAKE IT!! ... RIGHT ... IN ... YOUR ... HOT ...
FUCKING ... ASSSSS!!!!" Jack roared as the full length of his Texas-sized cock
plumbed the depths of Honey Wilson's man-clutching rectum.
"GGMGMPGPHH!!" Honey choked on Ernie's fuck-pole, and somehow the notion
that Ernie's ugly prick had silenced Honey's cries for help sent Jack's
well-muscled body thundering across the finish line. He gave Honey's nude
breasts a final tit-crushing squeeze and then his cockshaft exploded with
pleasure as he fired jet after jet of Slocum-sperm deep into the inner recesses
of Honey's perfect body.
"YYYYYEAAAHH!!!!!!" he groaned as he lunged twice more, emptying his fleshy
gun-barrel into Honey Wilson's tantalizing nether passage.
After his shattering orgasm, Jack fell forward on Honey's sweaty body
briefly, and then pulled away, his meaty cock making an odd popping sound as he
withdrew its massive length from Honey's clutching sphincter. He was breathing
as hard as if he had plowed a fresh furrow. Which, in a way, he had.
"OK, Ern," Jack said, as he slowly pulled on his clothes, carefully
threading Black Betsy through the appropriate belt loops, "Looks like you've
got yer little Princess just where you want her. I'm gonna check out the house
one more time, and see if I can find any cash, or guns, or anything worth taking
with us." And Black Jack Slocum squeezed his feet into his black boots and
headed toward the Wilson house.
"OK, Big Jack. Old man Wilson's loaded -- there oughta be a lotta loot
stashed in there somewheres. Then we can vamoose, just as soon as Princess,
here, finishes giving me that West Texas blow job she promised me an hour ago.
Keep at it, Blondie," the little man ordered, as Honey's tear-dampened cheeks
retracted inwardly in time with the soft, firm suction of her lips. And she's
gonna do it real good if she knows what's good for her!"
"Wrap yer pretty lips around it. Mmmm. That's good. Use your tongue, too,
Princess. Get it nice and wet! Oh yeah! Now suck it, baby. Suck it like like
a little pink piglet! Worship that cock!"
Ernie loved the slurpy sounds Honey made as she kissed and licked and
sucked his manhood. Her mouth was as warm as a newborn animal's on its mama's
teat. Warm and wet.
His excitement increased as he forced Honey's head down on his cock,
gagging her with his man-weapon. He held on to her blonde hair tightly with both
hands as he face-fucked her, harder and harder until she was choking for air.
But Ernie was in no mood to slow down. "Take it all, you cock-sucking
bitch! Right down to the balls! Take it all!" he repeated grimly, as his
scrawny testicles slapped against Honey's pretty chin.
He was fucking her throat now, with quick, furious lunges, his penis
throbbing with carnal desire, as he thrust it deeper and deeper into the warm
pink cavern of her mouth.
"Oh, fuck! Yeah!" his voice was almost unrecognizable, it was so convulsed
with lust. "Swallow it, Princess! he shouted, as he finally shot his wad into
her gaping mouth. "Swallow every goddamn drop!"
And Ernie's skinny body shook with a final exquisite shudder, his thrilling
orgasm recompensing him in part for Honey's nocturnal attack the night before.
