Chapter 16 Corral Torture Part I
Ernie tore his eyes away from the opulent breasts of his captive and looked
down at the buckle on the wide belt. It sported an oversized 'nail', the part
of the buckle that fits into the belt holes when it's fastened. Moving closer
to his blue-eyed prisoner, Ernie positioned the 'frame' of the heavy buckle
directly under Honey's left nipple, gently propping it up. He paused for a
second or two, enjoying Honey's rising agitation, before flipping the "nail"
forward, letting it come gently to rest directly on top of the tender pink bud
that she had so recently teased into excited erection.
"Hands behind your head again, sweetie. And keep yer pretty blue eyes
open. Me and Jack wouldn't want you to miss any of the fun," Ernie sneered
sardonically.
Ernie slowly pushed the nail of the buckle down, pinning Honey's engorged
nipple between the nail and the "frame" of the buckle. Ernie smiled wickedly,
using only a little pressure for the first few seconds. But then he squeezed
his miniature mouse-trap harder, watching the tears well up in her eyes before
rolling down her perfect cheekbones.
"Ohhhhhh, Goddddd, " the blonde teenager moaned, as she tried to pull away
from the excruciating buckle, but Ernie Gibbs hung on with nipple-crushing
doggedness, until at last Honey could bear the dreadful pain no longer and she
lowered her hands and shoved the ugly little man and his horrible buckle away
from her vanquished breast.
When Ernie the Weasel regained his balance he noted with satisfaction the
deep indentation the buckle had left on her nipple. "I thought I told you to
keep your hands up, Honey!" Jack could see that Ernie was really pissed. "Yer
gonna wish you hadn't pushed me like that, you'll see. Just for that you're
gonna get those four extra when we finish our baker's dozen!"
"But ... I ... please, no ... for God's sake, no!" Honey whimpered,
beseeching Black Jack Slocum and Ernie the Weasel in turn. But she found only
the cold hard stares of two twisted men who were consumed with sadistic lust.
Ernie, squinting in the late morning sun, lifted the long black belt up and
held it at arm's length, before draping it casually over the ripe curves of
Honey's luscious breasts for a second or two, letting them get a foretaste of
the punishing belt. The sleek finish of the black leather gleamed in the
sunlight, as Ernie slid it slowly back and forth over Honey's thrusting melons.
Turning the doubled-up belt at a slight angle, he rubbed its thick edge against
the pink nubbins that Honey Wilson had just finished caressing to a tantalizing
erectness. "Y'know, Jackson," Ernie mused as he slid the leather over Honey's
surging breast-mounds, "I swear I could work on these babies all day long.
Tits like these are just made for punishment, ain't they?"
Black Jack Slocum laconically nodded his assent as his tongue moistened his
dry lips. The black-clad outlaw lifted a hand to scratch at the tough stubble
on his determined chin as he watched Honey's pink-tipped man-pleasers quiver at
Ernie's touch. Jack half-regretted delegating the pleasure of punishing Honey's
clumsiness to his ornery little sidekick, but it was too late now. Anyway,
Ernie's mean streak was at least as wide as his own. The ornery little bastard
more than made up in viciousness what he lacked in physical strength. So, there
was sure to be plenty of action. And at least he had a front row seat....
"Remember -- keep those hands up, girl," Ernie warned, as he tapped the
sides of Honey's heaving orbs with the belt, enjoying the way her nude breasts
bobbled appetizingly in response to the gentle smacks. Ernie alertly noticed
that Honey's eyes were darting desperately around the corral area, as if
searching for somewhere to run. Or hide. Anything to escape her two
tormentors.
"Don't even think about it, Honey-chile," he warned her. "You just worry
about diggin' yerself a good foothold right there in that dirt; cause if me and
Jack have to chase you around this here corral, you ain't gonna have enough skin
left on yer back to scratch yer sweet round ass."
Jack watched as their forlorn prisoner ground her bare toes into the dirt
floor outside the corral much the way he'd dug into the batting box when he'd
tried to hit against Albert Spalding during the great pitcher's barnstorming
tour through Texas some years back. He'd been lucky to foul off one ball before
striking out. He smiled to himself as he ran his menacing, reptilian eyes over
the generous curves of Honey's nude body. He'd played a lot of ball when he was
younger, and he'd been damn good. But baseball had never afforded the kind of
thrills that Honey Wilson provided. Despite his prodigious exertions at the
swimming-hole, Jack's hairy horse-cock felt as hard as "Four-bagger", his
favorite bat back in the old days.
Meanwhile Ernie had taken two steps backward. The diminutive,
leather-wielding villain drew Black Betsy back, while his rheumy green eyes
measured the distance to Honey's proud, pink-nippled treasures.
"P-p-please..."
Ernie grunted loudly as he wound up and swung the heavy belt forward,
brutally CRAACCKKing Honey across both of her gorgeous turrets, crushing her
boldly distended nipples into submission.
"Nnggggguuuuhhhhhhhh!" Honey moaned as horrible shock waves of pain coursed
through her bare breasts, almost drawing from her the cry of agony that Ernie
had proscribed under pain of additional blows. The beautiful young blonde stood
there on wobbly knees, visibly trembling, as she tried to regain her composure.
It was all she could to keep her fingers laced behind her blonde pigtails, while
she watched her breasts begin to pinken in response to the atrocious blow. Her
tender globes screamed for the soothing touch of her soft hands, but she dared
not comfort them.
Suddenly Honey remembered that she had forgotten to tally the blow. 'Oh,
God -- what number was I on?' she wondered frantically, before venturing a
hopeful, "Seven?"
Black Jack Slocum couldn't get enough of the way the gleaming black leather
contrasted so deliciously with Honey's sun-tanned flesh. The thrilling SMACK!!
of hard leather on succulent breasts in the fresh clean Texas air had sent a
pleasurable frisson of lust through his hairy balls.
"Not too sure, were you?" taunted her scrawny tormentor. "How's about
another one, Princess. His eyes half-crazed with lust, Ernie shook the dangling
leather weapon for a moment before sweeping the the dreadful belt forward again.
The gleaming black leather came hurtling out of the wind-tossed dust of the
corral floor before slamming into the soft, creamy underslopes of Honey's
defenseless lust-mounds with a resounding CRAACKK!!
"Mmmnnnnghhh!" Honey gasped. Ernie up-shooting breast-buster had been
just as vicious as the proceeding blow, and it drove her backwards into the
corral gate. "Eight," Honey groaned piteously.
"Almost knocked her on her pretty ass with that, one, didn't I, big Jack,"
Ernie gloated, before scowling at Honey again. "Get back to where you were,
slut," Ernie rasped, as he waited for Honey to step forward and plant her feet
firmly again.
Honey's breasts, which had already suffered so much in the preceding twenty
hours, were once again ablaze with pain. Dark-ringed from Jack's skillful
breast-bondage, her tawny melons were reddening as quickly as a late-summer
sunset. Honey took a couple of staggering steps back to her original position
and gingerly planted her feet in preparation for Ernie's next blow.
Ernie surprised her with the next blow, delivering a swift bolt of
lightning that CRACCKK!!ed across her tawny, slim-waisted midriff, leaving a
lurid stripe in its wake. "Nine," she whimpered.
"Here, let's pull those pants down," Ernie muttered as he stepped toward
her. "I been neglectin' that sweet blonde pussy of yours, haven't I Honey?
"N-no...please ... you can't ..."
"Why sure I can, Honeychile," Ernie gloated. Then he leaned down, his
homely, angular face only inches from Honey's blonde bush, and whisked her
increasingly threadbare panties down to her ankles. "Don't you never tell Ernie
Gibbs, he can't do something, Missie," he growled as he seized a handful of pale
blonde pubic hair and wrenched it viciously, almost causing Honey to tumble
forward with pain. "You shoulda thought about the damn consequences before you
came at me with that knife, Miss Big-tits! Step out of 'em, girl! That's right.
Mmmm, nice," Ernie murmured as he thrust two fingers up into Honey's quim, as
she squirmed in revulsion. "Now spread them long legs 'a yers!"
Honey, tears welling up in her big blue eyes, shook her head from side to
side. "No," she moaned, more to herself than to the two desperados, "Oh, please,
God, no!"
"Listen, Honey," Ernie growled. "Are you gonna spread them pretty legs, or
am I gonna have to start over?"
Moving unsteadily on the long, golden legs which were still fatigued from
her abortive late-night escape attempt, Honey hesitantly parted her silky
thighs. Ernie wiped a brownish trickle of tobacco juice from the corner of his
mouth as he ogled the blonde tendrils that made a pretence of covering Honey's
tempting love grotto. As she widened her stance, Honey's puffy, sensuous labia
seemed to blossom into riper prominence. Soft. Pink. Inviting....
"Nice, Honey. Real nice." Ernie the Weasel adjusted the makeshift bandage
that encircled his scalp and then took a couple of underhand practice strokes
with the long belt. "Now hold still for me, Honey, or I'm gonna start the count
over."
Shuddering silently, Honey Wilson did her best to brace herself for the
coming pain while Ernie grooved his swing. Then, once he'd felt he'd mastered
the desired arm motion, the shiny leather strap came whistling upward from
ground level with diabolical accuracy. The stinging tail of the belt ripped
into Honey's most intimate and sensitive flesh with a resounding WHAPPP!!
"MMMNNNNNNNNGGHHHHH!" It was as if a burning ember had been pressed against
her exquisite genitals. The excruciating pain drove Honey to her knees in the
dirt. Somehow she managed to sqeak out a strangled, "Ten".
"Get up, blondie. I ain't done with you yet," Ernie growled. He adjusted
the big chaw of tobacco in the side of his mouth as he watched the long-legged
blonde get up, the late-morning sun bathing her naked body in its warm glow.
No sooner had Honey staggered awkwardly to her feet when the sadistic
cowpoke slashed her violently across the tops of her sweat-sheened thighs, the
violent CRACCKKK!!!! leaving a dark, livid mark on her creamy flesh.
"Ngggghhhhh," Honey groaned, before mumbling "Eleven," in a voice weakened
by suffering. Only two more, she thought, Just hold on for two more. But then
she remembered -- there would be four additional blows because she had pushed
Ernie away when he'd used the buckle on her tender nipple. "Why", she
reproached herself, "had she been so foolish?"
Ernie was eyeballing her thrusting pleasure-globes again . "Brace yourself
for another one across those knockers, Honey. I'm gonna make this one a good
'un. See if I don't."
Ernie stuck the belt in his teeth and spat on his grimy hands. Then he
picked up a handful of dry dirt and rubbed his hands with it. "Makin' sure I
get a good grip, Honey," he winked at her as she stood there before him, naked
and trembling.
Then the Weasel seized the belt in his right hand and licked his
tobacco-stained lips licentiously while he drew a bead on Honey's nipples, which
stood out from her ripe breasts like proud, pink rivets. "Stick those tits out
for me, girlie," Ernie growled with a lecherous smirk. A moment later, disgusted
by her half-hearted attempt to comply with his commands, he cursed, "Damn it,
Honey, if you can't stick 'em out any better than that, yer gonna buy yerself a
few more .... Now take a deep breath for Uncle Ernie ... Good ... Oh, yeah,
baby ... That's it ... nice and slow."
Ernie's eyes were fixated on Honey's stiff-nippled lust-globes as she filled her
lungs with air, thereby lifting her full, close-set breasts higher on her chest.
"Yeah, that's nice, Honey. Real nice. Watch this one, partner," Ernie the
Weasel bragged as he adjusted his grip on the long black belt and then swung it
around his head once and then again, letting it build up momentum as it knifed
through the air. When it came whizzing around the third time, he slammed the
stinging belt squarely into the swollen crests of Honey's succulent breasts with
every ounce of strength at his disposal.
CRACCKKK!!!!
"MMNGNNNNGHHH!!" Honey looked down to see that her poor breasts had been
painted the blushing color of pink roses; they felt as if they were floating in
a sea of fire. She could almost hear her ravaged nipple-tips crying out to her
to touch them, to soothe them, to comfort them. But she knew she dared not.
"T-twelve..."
"Oh, fuck! You caught 'em good that time, Ern! Ain't nothin' like the
feelin a man gets when he gets in a really good lick at a nice pair of tits, is
there?"
"No shit, Jackson," Ernie grinned, as he strutted around with his chest
puffed out for a moment. Then he paused to rub crudely at his swollen crotch as
Honey eyed him with a mingled mixture of fear and disgust. "OK, Honey. How's
about one more from down under. One more for that pretty pink pussy to remember
me by, when me and Jack are long gone."
"Please ... I'm so sore ... it hurts so b..."
"Spread 'em, Honey!" Ernie bellowed roughly.
Tearfully, the blue-eyed Texas belle complied, moving her tawny thighs
slightly farther apart.
"Wider, goddammit!"
Unable to take her eyes off the evil belt, Honey widened her stance a
little more.
And them her clit-hunting captor whipped the fiendish belt upward, cutting
deeply into the delicate tissues of her womanhood yet again, with a thunderous
"WHAPPPP!!
"NNNNGHHHGUHHH!" The unbearable pain drove Honey to her knees once more.
"Th-thir-teen," Honey gasped out as she choked on the small cloud of swirling
dust her collapse had raised.
"Thanks, Big Jack," Ernie winked, as he returned the black belt to his
broken-nosed partner in crime.
"Well, Honey, you took that whuppin' pretty good; too bad you pushed me
that oncet. I'm afraid me and Jack are gonna have to give you them four extra
licks we promised. Back on yer feet, blondie!"
Honey, trying desperately to blot the searing pain between her legs from
her mind, remained on her knees a moment longer, as if hoping that somehow the
healing rays of the summer sun might alleviate her distress. She was perspiring
even more freely now; her face and body were awash with rivulets of summer
sweat.
A few feet away, Black Jack Slocum had doubled up the ends of Black Betsy
and was popping the dreadful belt with sudden movements of his huge, hairy
hands. Meanwhile Ernie Gibbs had retrieved the switch he'd been whittling
earlier.
" 'On yer feet', I said!" Ernie grunted. "You still got four comin',
Princess."
Desperate, desolate, Honey climbed unsteadily to her feet.
"Whaddya think, Big Jack? Four left." Ernie knew that when it came to
thinking up new ways to work over a cutie like Honey Wilson, he was no match for
Jack Slocum.
"Well, Ern, I reckon it'd be a damn shame to waste that corral fence
Honey's daddy built. Let me fetch some rope."
Even standing in the broiling sun Honey Wilson felt herself shiver as the
swarthy gungslinger flipped Black Betsy over his shoulder, and ambled over to
Cyclone, whereupon he opened a saddlebag and retrieved a number of lengths of
three-ply horsehair rope. Having grown up on a ranch, Honey was well aware
that a rope was a cowboy's most important tool, next to his horse. He used it
to restrain his horse, to lasso cattle, to keep his pack steady while on the
trail, to help pull heavy wagons through streams and swamps and for a hundred
other things. After seeing the effortless skill with which Jack had wound the
thin cord so expertly and so tightly around her breasts out on the road, it was
clear that Black Jack Slocum hadn't forgotten any rope tricks during his years
in prison.
A few seconds later Jack walked back in her direction, a look of
concentration on his lean, chiseled face. With every long, loping stride, he
glanced from her nude body over to the corral and back again, as if he were
mapping out the details of a military campaign.
Meanwhile, Ernie had retrieved the slender branch from which he had
stripped the leaves earlier. The switch was as thick as his index finger and
about as long as his arm. Ernie whipped it through the humid Texas air twice,
while Honey flinched at the familiar but frightening sound the switch made as it
cut cleanly through empty space.
"You heard the man, Honey. Up against the fence!"
Nervously, her arms still uplifted behind her head in the shape of a wide
diamond, Honey retreated toward the corral rail until she felt it against her
back.
"Nah, not like that," Black Jack snarled as he grabbed her by the
shoulders, and turned her around roughly so that she faced the sturdy corral
fence and then pushed her up against it. slamming her firm well-striped breasts
hard into the top rail of the corral.
"Owwwwww!"
"Yer about an inch too short for that top rail, Princess," Jack growled as
his big hand squeezed the rounded curves of Honey's bottom. "I reckon yer gonna
haveta stand on yer toes."
Suddenly Honey realized what Jack was up to.
"On yer toes, darlin'. I want that top rail to fit right under those big
juicy tits."
"B-but ..."
Honey heard the yard-long length of coarse rope whizzing through the air a
split-second before it raked across her back, breaking the skin.
"I said, 'On yer toes', dammit!" The big hand was back on her buttocks,
fondling her resilient asscheeks.
"She don't listen so good, does she Jackson?" Ernie smirked.
"Nope. You'da thought she'd a figgered out by now that this ain't no
fuckin' tea party."
By now, Honey was dutifully standing on tiptoe, but had edged backward away
from the corral rail.
Honey's soft, sensual body jerked in pain when Slocum's rope whistled
through the air and blazed a second angry trail across the tender skin of her
back.
"Geesus, girl! I said I wanted that rail right under yer tits. Now
snuggle up to it nice and tight. I want yer belly button right up against that
center rail."
Tears of pain coursing down her face, Honey obeyed, standing high on her
tiptoes, and pressing forward so that the ripe mounds of her nude breasts rested
atop the wooden rail. The effect was wanton, shameless, obscene.
"Yeah!" Jack enthused under his breath, with the satisfaction of a
set-designer who had arranged his props to perfection.
"Now stick yer arms out along the rail. Left one first."
Honey submissively extended her left arm out along the upper rail of the corral.
Within two minutes Jack had lashed her arm to the rail at wrist, elbow, and just
below her shoulder; the ropes were so tight that Honey knew she'd wear their
marks for days.
"Now the other one." Jack groped her bottom cheeks with both big hands
for a moment, before proceeding to tie that arm to the rail with ropes no less
constricting than the ones he'd used on the other.
When he was done Black Jack Slocum took an oblique step backward in order
to take in the result of his labors. The nubile young rancher's daughter was
standing awkwardly on her tiptoes, her nicely-tanned calves and thighs straining
to keep her in the enforced position. Honey's supple arms were pulled taut in a
wide T across the corral rail. The smooth, soft skin of her bare belly was
pressed firmly against the rough mid-rail of the corral and the muscles in her
delicious heart-shaped bottom were tensing and twitching uncontrollably,
prophetically, as if they knew what the future held. Topping off the delicious
banquet of flesh were Honey's breasts: her big, mouth-watering, man-pleasing
handfuls of pleasure were propped up on top of the fence rail, as plump and
tasty-looking as warm muffins on a Sunday morning.
A barbaric grin creased Jack's rugged features. He was fixin' to heat those
muffins up a little more...
