East Coast Slaver Organization Story - IV

Chapter 06 – Branding in the Cowpen (or Ohhh, Shit, It Hurts!)

Women who deal with Aaron Clarke's slaver organization or its related business concerns find that their lives can drastically change as a result of consequences from schemes they set in motion themselves. Kate O'Rourke, a just-graduated twenty-four-year-old was caught cheating in a private bet between herself and her not-quite-so-pretty roommate, Megan Dietz. The two had started a monthly contest to generate extra rent income and to impose ‘penalties' upon the bet's loser. The penalties became increasingly difficult to bear in direct proportion to the amount raised during the contest. Kate became more and more angry over her humiliating defeat and a month of servitude as apartment maid and cook. Aaron Clarke, in his Robert Morgan identity, arranged to tap into Kate's phone and recorded proof of her scheme to soundly defeat Megan and force her into months of servitude. As usual, Robert's idea of a fitting punishment was to turnaround the situation with a greatly increased penalty.

Doctor Joan Miller, the Miami surgeon used by Aaron Clarke to modify his acquisitions, had harbored secret yearnings to briefly taste submission. Normally dominate over her charges, Joan wanted Robert to arrange for her have a session at the Ponygirl training ranch where her recent patients had been sent. Joan's plan be a Mistress over the Ponygirls and then to undergo a short session as a Ponygirl herself, had gone awry. Marshal Thompson, owner of Ponygirl Heaven Ranch, had demanded that any female ponies on his ranch, even temporary ones, start out as newly processed livestock. The slim and beautiful thirty-eight-year-old was a city girl that had never worked out in a gym. She was unable to pass the ranch's basic physical endurance test and was relegated to the remedial training program, the lowest position at the desert ranch.

Paula Laturno was Marshall Thompson's Head Groom at the Ponygirl Heaven Ranch. Her aspirations of acquiring the job of Chief Trainer by any means was discovered by Marshall Thompson when he was using his operation's sophisticated surveillance system. She endangered two of her charges (Ponygirls in training Lisa Heath è 3 and her twin sister Lori Heath è 4). Marshall intervened before permanent damage was done and instantly reverted Paula's role on the ranch to that of Ponygirl undergoing remedial training.

Joan heard the welcome voice of Marshall Thompson calling for the ‘Lazy Pig' and she weakly struggled to gain her knees in the thick goop of the pigpen. Struggling to respond quickly to the beckoning call of the Ponygirl Heaven Ranch owner, she crept on hands and knees toward his position at the pen's entry gate. She almost wept with joy when she saw him holding her chain in a gloved hand and a riding crop in the other.

Marshall 's commanding voice gruffly said, “Follow me cowgirl. Knees or feet, it makes no matter to me; just keep up or feel the crop.”

Joan struggled to overcome her cramped and painful muscles as she fought her way up to stand on two feet. She staggered after Marshall , the long chain lead chain sagging between them. He led her to an odd corral with solid oak board siding and they passed through a man-size gate. When the gate thumped shut behind her, Joan fell to her knees in disbelief at what her eyes saw. A giant furry dog was just pulling its huge and slimy dick free of a woman's cunt; a long string of white dog sperm stretched out from her distended lips. The puffy lips were so distorted and swollen that the pedals of her cunt lips and anal sphincter closed in nearer appearance to a wedge of cauliflower than a woman's lips guarding the portals to her womb and rectum. Joan couldn't help but beg weakly, “Nnnno! Pplease, not this! I promise to obey and try as hard as I can. Aanything! Ppromise!”

Marshall drew her trembling body against his masculine form and stroked her muddy back. “Shhh,” he whispered, “this is a special punishment reserved for true failure. In this case, the bitch violated her trust through inattention caused by planning to cheat and discredit another. I saw the video of your run yesterday. Keep trying that hard and I can guarantee you will never see this punishment. However, you two will begin training together in the morning. From this point on, you two will do everything together. You are a set of animals; success will be equally shared among you and failure by one will result in your punishment as a set.”

He drew her aside and gently pushed her down to her knees. “Rest here for a few minutes while I put away the dogs.”

Joan sagged down to the ground in exhausted relief. She looked over to the nearby woman's sex holes and cringed at the apparent damage. “Both her holes have swollen together into one mass of irritated flesh. The poor thing must have been raped for thousands of thrusts to do that much injury.” Joan shifted from her kneeling stance to a more comfortable upright sitting position and wondered what the man named Marshall was doing. After locking the last of the dogs in the traveling kennel, Marshall tugged in a propane tank and a brazier atop a steel stand into the corral. He clicked a flint and steel striker set, and the brazier burst into a roaring inferno. The ranch owner next brought in another heavy tank and set it nearby. Joan cowered toward the ground in fear as Marshall approached.

Moments later, Joan's naked front was being scratched by the filthy doormat as she laid sideways atop the line of the dog-raped woman below her. Horrified, she was certain that this latest development did not bode well. She tried to move, and was unable to do more than wriggle her tightly tied wrists and ankles. “Don't let the dogs rape me,” she whined aloud. “Please, … please, … I've been good, …truly,” she added weakly.

Her haunch was struck by a wave of icy cold water as Marshall threw the contents of a bucket of clean water across her ass end. She twisted her head and was able to see him take the bucket to a nearby faucet to refill it. He approached them once again and Joan cringed in expectation of another cold dousing. Instead, the cold water washed across the exposed hip of the woman below her. The man's feet moved out of her sight, toward the corral entry. Metallic sounds clanked across the small ring and Joan struggled in vain to see what the man was doing.

Joan heard the man approach from her ass end where she couldn't see what was happening. Her hip felt a momentary flash of warmth and then the body below her exploded in pain. The woman under her humped her bound form upward and she howled in anguish. Joan smelled the sweet odor of cooking flesh and her shocked mind made the connection. “He's gonna brand me!” she screamed to herself. “You fuck!” she shrieked, “what are you doing? You can't brand us!”

Marshall Thompson glanced down at the red weal on his Head Groom's right upper thigh. “The branding iron set itself perfectly,” he thought with admiration. Despite the reluctance he felt about dealing with Paula Laturno in such a manner, he knew that it would give him some pleasure to mold the headstrong woman back into either a useful employee or a sellable commodity. He leaned down and whispered into the agonized woman's ear, “Paula, either you do well in the next few weeks, or you can stay like this, livestock good only for harvesting as fuckmeat.”

The whimpering woman made no response. Her companion, Joan, kept up a constant barrage of sobbing demands that she be let loose and that he not brand her.

Marshall finished smearing a thick layer of antibiotic wound dressing on the seared flesh of his ex-employee. The raised and charred flesh from the brand was located high on the woman's thigh and slightly back toward her fleshy ass. The man's slippery fingers traced the overlapped capital letters P – G – H – R (Ponygirl Heaven Ranch) of the brand and the small oval traced around it. Paula was unresponsive and Marshall thought she might have fainted from the pain and the humiliation of the act of branding.

The rancher next traced his fingers across the right hip of the other helpless woman and winched as she jumped in fear. Marshall really didn't want to inflict any unnecessary pain or anguish on the animal mounted atop Paula; but, he knew that dealing with livestock meant doing some unpleasant tasks. He turned to the next, already prepared, branding iron and picked it up in his gloved hand. This time, when the brand was placed upon his cow's tender haunch, the skin turned white as the ranch symbol was frozen into the flesh by the fierce cold of the steel. Marshall had just branded the second piece of livestock by using a steel branding iron that had been super-cooled in liquid nitrogen. After a long count of five, he pulled the branding iron back and admired the clean stamp left in her hide. The slanted P – G – H – R and the surrounding oval were crisp and clear.

“You're lucky little one,” he said in a pleased tone of voice as his left hand caressed her unblemished left haunch, “I've just placed our ranch's first high-tech brand on your ass instead of searing your meat with the old-style brand. The resulting mark is supposed to be much more decorative, resembling a pale tattoo more than a branded scar. I'll have to compare the two brands over the next couple of days to see which I prefer.” He felt his cock jerk in his pants at the sight of her naked, dirt-streaked ass pointing right at his crotch. He shook off the thought of porking the doctor's slim mud-covered ass and smeared a thick handful of veterinary antibiotic across her hip. The slippery caressing of her smooth ass made Marshall pause again in thought about using the slippery medicine to facilitate a quick ass reaming. His dick twitched at the thought.

Joan was thankful that the lean rancher had at least made an attempt to clean her off before he stuck the frozen branding iron against her hip. There was no true pain. The rough skin of the rancher's hand spreading the antibiotic cream onto her hip was welcome anyway. As a doctor, she knew that the moisturizing effect of the antibiotic would minimize the scarring at the brand site. The hand shifted to the deep crease of her ass and she froze in fear. “Hhe can't be thinking of raping me. Can he?” she thought in shock. “They've treated me roughly here, but nobody has tried to molest me.” She relaxed, dropping her head down in relief as the hand stopped touching her on her tiny rectal entrance. “Ahh,” she moaned softly in relief.

Behind the naked doctor, Marshall was silently deciding how best to tear off a quick piece of ass. “Too much trouble to take off my boots and pants,” he thought. “Guess I'll just drop trousers and get to work.” With a grimace at the embarrassing picture he was presenting, Marshall quickly unbuttoned his cotton work shirt, unbuckled his belt, unzipped his pants, and slipped pants and underwear down around his knees. Marshall grinned in expectation of the good feeling waiting for his dick as he duck-walked up to her ass. Joan's shapely rump was almost too much for the tough rancher. Even at thirty-eight, and lacking any prior exercise regime, the slim woman's tight ass and pussy presented a delectable temptation. “Hmmm,” he murmured as he looked across her back and saw the swell of her recently augmented tit meats hanging out from the sides of her chest. Marshall squeezed his rock-hard cock with one hand and smeared the slippery antibiotic across his latex-covered fat cockhead with the other. He lined up with Joan's sphincter and nudged it with his dick head. Muscles rippled up Joan's legs, across her ass, and up her back as she struggled upward in dismay.

“NNooo!” she squealed in anger. “That's not what I came here for! Stop! Stop! Ughhh, … owwww!” her voice rose several octaves as the cock's pressure on her clenched ass increased.

“Baby, you better open up as if you're taking a big shit. Cause this thing is going up your ass, one way or another,” Marshall warned Joan. “Ahhhh, shit!” he groaned as his plumb-sized cockhead popped passed her tight anal grommet. Dick properly seated at the end of her rectum, Marshall moved his freed hands to rest on her ass cheeks and he pried open her fleshy buns. His fat cock was highlighted around her stretched ass. “Ready or not,” he taunted the woman, “here I come.”

Joan's hyper extended head, flared nostrils, and wide-open mouth were a picture of agony as she shrieked soundlessly while the man sunk inches deep into her virgin ass. No fool, when she felt the agony created by the log-like cock tearing into her ass, she began to bear down as if she were passing gas or taking a shit. The sudden relaxation and slight expansion of her intestines let him fall all the way into her, with no additional pain. Joan felt the man's scratchy pubic hair grate against her butt as he bottomed out. “Eiiii! Please stop! God! You bastard!” At this point, the sheer humiliation of the ass rape outweighed the initial searing pain.

The sight of Joan's faux wedding ring on her finger reminded Marshall of the woman's status. With a feeling of guilt, he started to stop his rape of the woman. However, even as he slowed to stop, the woman's mindless shrieks of resistance broke his inner reserve.

Marshall froze and abruptly yanked his dick out of her hot inner core, waddled over to the box of equipment he left by the roaring propane furnace, and grabbed a riding crop. Turning back to Joan, he began to beat her ass with powerful blows of the short crop. SPLAT, … SPLAT, … “You will,” he shouted; SPLAT “stop screaming,” SPLAT “while I'm” SPLAT “fucking you.” SPLAT … SPLAT … “Furthermore,” SPLAT “you will,” SPLAT “fuck back,” SPLAT “against me,” SPLAT “as if you,” SPLAT “loved it,” SPLAT “so much,” SPLAT “you can't,” SPLAT “live without,” SPLAT “the sex,” SPLAT “that I,” SPLAT “am giving,” SPLAT “you!” SPLAT, … SPLAT, … SPLAT. “You're a filthy whore and you better start fucking like one!” he screamed as he finished the corrective whipping.

Sweating from the exertion of the ass whipping, Marshall waddled back up to her butt and set the crop down on the dirty woman's back. Once again, he used one hand on his throbbing, ten-inch bludgeon to align his knob against her shiny asshole. Marshall easily slid the full ten inches of his slippery fuckstick deep into her hot, lubricated rectum. Joan's only resistance to the renewed rape was a single drawn out grunt as his fat cock straightened out her intestines and his pubic bone struck home against her lower spine. Marshall flexed his back muscles, drawing the vein-covered cock out of her ass and plunged in again, hard. The beginnings of a hard, no-compromising, fucking rhythm established, Marshall began to speed up his shafting of the trapped brunette.

Marshall felt his balls thumping against the woman's pubic mound with each hard inward lunge of his frame. “God, I love fucking your ass,” he crowed. “Start talking dirty about screwing me and hump your ass back against me. Also, … don't forget, push your pelvis back against my thrusts. Let's go, bitch! Let's fuck!” To punctuate his demands, Marshall grabbed the crop again and began to whip her ass once with each of his outward thrusts.

Joan moaned in shame and forced her body to clamp its anal sphincter down hard on his bludgeoning cock. The initial pain had begun to subside into an uncomfortable burning sensation as her sensitive membranes were lubricated, soothed, and then numbed by the rapidly increasing pace of Marshall 's fucking. She tentatively wriggled back as much as her bonds would allow and squeezed her rectal muscles again. His balls thumped hard against her clit following her rectal spasm. Joan's face a picture of grim concentration, she finally picked up the right rhythm and began to squeeze and thrust, squeeze and thrust, squeeze and thrust. Each time she finished a thrust, his heavy balls swung against her blood-gorged clit. “Ahhh,” she moaned in a voice that clearly reflected her rising lust. “Yessss,” she hissed. Her face colored in shame as she realized that the last two vocalizations were due to her bodies increased horniness and actual enjoyment of the rape. “Eiiii, yesss! Fuck me, you heartless bastard. Fuck me! That's it, you bastard, fuck meee!”

Marshall felt Joan's carefully established fuck rhythm break down into uncontrolled spasms of climax. He grinned at the sight and slightly adjusted the pace of his brutal ass rape. On each thumpingly hard in stroke, he held his hips in place for a moment before grinding his hips around in a circular motion, stirring his long dick through her lower intestines. Once his body learned this new, and more complicated motion, he once again slowly picked up the pace, ensuring that he bottomed out hard with each in stroke. Finally, Marshall 's brain and body were too overloaded by the stimulation of the sexual act and he exploded. Joan's now slack muscles began to twitch again in orgasm as she felt his love muscle pumping salty jism deep into her ass. When Marshall pulled himself out of her clasping ass, his goo-filled condom remained in her rectum, only an inch or so sticking out of the spasming woman's shithole. Marshall gave Joan's ass a possessive rub as he staggered back in physical and mental exhaustion, seemingly having spurted everything into the condom left in her asshole.

--- To Be Continued ---