Detour to Pain: Whipped Women Read online

  “I like that big butt of yours, girl,” Buster said as he placed a hand on each upright and leaned toward me. He would have to bend his legs to enter me. “I think I could do this better if it was turned up to me. I can’t hardly get to you in this position.”

  I hadn’t considered the dynamics of what he was about to do, but now I could see trying to screw someone in my position would be nearly impossible.

  “I tell you what I’m gonna do, gal. I’m going to unstrap you. Then I want you to crawl to the other end of the table and get on your knees. If you give me any trouble, I will hurt you bad and it won’t be just a whipping. You understand?”

  I wasn’t able to argue. I had no option but to cooperate. I nodded.

  A couple of minutes later I was on my knees on the opposite end of the table and Buster was viciously fucking me. He fucked me for the better part of ten minutes. After he was through with me it seemed the others were more concerned with the two other girls. Taking my arm, Buster steered me to the cage where they had previously put Wanda. I was surprised that it was larger than I thought. It contained a couple of bunks and enough room to stand. Wanda was lying on her side atop one of the bunk. She stared up at me with wide eyes.

  I turned to look back toward the table where I had just experience so much pain and degradation.

  “Ok, just in case you ladies think I’m a heartless bastard, I’m going to show you just how kind I am. I’m only going to whip you one time each today.” Buster pointed toward the wall where Sarah and Anna were still chained. “Since you ladies have already had your whipping in the barn, we’re just going to fuck you.”

  Buster appeared to study the two who were still chained. He then pointed to Sarah. “Bring that tall one over here.”

  Although one of the redneck grasped Sarah arm to steer to the far side of the table, it didn’t appear she was giving any resistance. What was the point?

  “Take off all your clothes, honey,” Buster instructed her in an almost pleasant tone.

  After Sarah meekly complied, Buster told her to crawl on the table and then turn her butt up as he put it. Once she had done so, he made a big deal of checking her orifices. Once doing that, surprisingly, he stepped away. “You can have her, Rudy. Give her a good work out.”

  Rudy, grinning the grin of only the retarded, stood behind Sarah and rubbed her lily-white butt for a while. With Sarah being so white, it made her look even more naked and vulnerable. At least she had accepted what was coming. That would make it easier.

  Rudy dropped his pants and manipulated his penis into Sarah’s opening. Once he had it started, he gave a thrust. Although I could only see her in profile, I knew it had hurt. I noted the contrast of Rudy dark skin against Sarah’s light. Rudy was pretty much of a jackrabbit and before long he was convulsing against Sarah’s backside. There were no other takers for Sarah when Rudy was through, so they brought her to the cage also.

  Anna gave them a fight for all the good it did. Joe took her. Much like his cohort, Joe was also a jackrabbit. Once he was through, Buster took her. After that, they brought her to the cage.

  Chapter Two

  “Tomorrow Buster is going to make you all pony girls.”

  Clete made the statement as if he’d been talking about the weather or some other mundane subject. He had a plate of sandwiches and a pitcher of tea, which I imagine he’d make himself. At least they didn’t intend to starve us. It wouldn’t do to have skeletons waiting for the Mexicans.

  “What in the hell is a pony girl, Clete?” I asked around a big bite of bologna and cheese.

  “I…I…ain’t gonna tell you. You’ll find out.”

  My assumption that this off-cast from the back woods possessed a little intelligence disappeared in that moment. He was still wagging his head from side to side.

  “Why can’t you tell us, Clete?” I reached through the wire and laid a hand on his forearm. “I thought you liked me Clete.”

  “Cause Buster will get mad.”

  “You seem like a good man, Clete, why do you stay here with Buster?”

  “Cause I ain’t got no place to go. Buster is my brother and he takes care of me. I…I…can’t leave.”

  “Clete, did you know that when Buster is caught, they will lock you up as well?”

  “Buster ain’t gonna get caught. He’s too smart.”

  I didn’t see any use in arguing the point anymore. This was a moron who could sometimes act as if he had a little sense. Somewhat like a savant.

  “Clete, could you bring us our clothes?” Our clothes, outer and under, were lying scattered about the room. They lay where we had removed them. Or had been forced to remove them.

  “Ain’t no point. You’ll just have to take them off again to be a pony girl.”

  “It’s going to get cold tonight, Clete. Can we please have our clothes?”

  I guess that must have penetrated his thick skull because he turned around and began gathering the garments off the floor.

  We all went to pony girl training the next day. The rednecks had left not long after they had penned us up for the night. I knew because I heard the old truck crank and roar into the distance. They were back this morning. I knew that because I’d heard the piece of junk roar up the drive and stop near the house.

  The two redneck cowboys, Joe and Rudy, came into the room or dungeon where we were held. I first thought they intended to deal us some early morning misery in this same room, but that didn’t seem the case when they picked up the wooden spanking bench or “horse” and carried it between them to somewhere outside the room.

  I had also thought they might say something to us to indicate what was on their minds. They didn’t. I think their silence scared me more than had they threatened us. We were not to be ignored, however. Shortly after these two left, Clete entered the room. For the first time, I noticed he wore work boots and dragged his right foot slightly. This added to the retard perception.

  “Good morning girls,” he greeted us in his slow gravelly voice. Had one of the other enter and said the same words I would have taken it for factiousness. I don’t think that was Clete’s intention. I was more concerned about the elongated objects he carried in his hand. At first, they look like whips made from a horse’s tail. I soon realized they weren’t whips. They were horses’ tails attached to butt plugs. I suddenly had a feeling I knew how we were going to become pony girls. “These are gonna be your tails.”

  I didn’t ask how these things were going to function as tails. There was no question there. My poor, aching butt hole. Were they ever going to leave it alone?

  A moment later, Buster came into the room. “Alright, girls, we’re going outside and get a little fresh air and sunshine. First, I want you to take those clothes back off, every piece. We’re going to take you out one at the time in case you get some silly notion to run. You there,” he pointed to me, “you seem to be the leader of the pack. I’m going to take you first.”

  Not having much in the way of options, all four of us were soon naked again.

  As Buster unlocked the cage, I thought of running head on into him with a headbutt and then run past Clete. With his slow gate, Clete probably wouldn’t even pursue me. Just as I was entertaining this and other thoughts, the rednecks appeared in the doorway. I had no other option but to comply.

  “Go with them,” Buster motioned me toward Joe and Rudy. Once I approached them, Rudy grabbed my upper arm and steered me down a hallway and out the backdoor.

  The backyard was enclosed with a wooden fence, which other than for the top of the barn where we had been taken captive, I couldn’t see anything beyond. I did see they had set the whipping horse in the middle of the fenced in area. I felt a tightening in the pit of my stomach.

  The rednecks pulled me into the yard and to a post that might have been a snubbing post had it been in a corral. Instead, they tied my hands to it with a short strand of rope. They brought Anna and Wanda out and tied them to the post. They then brought Sarah out. Instea
d of leading her to the post, they lead her to the whipping horse. Taking yet another short strand of rope, they tied her hands behind her back. One of the redneck, either Joe or Rudy, I couldn’t remember which because I kept getting their name mixed up, pulled a short chain from a rear pocket. It took a moment to realize there were nipple clamps on either end of the chain. Sarah winced as he attached first one end of the chain to her left nipple and the other end to her right. Once both her nipples were clamped, they steered her toward the horse.

  In the light of day, I saw the whipping horse had four narrow protrusion, two on each side. Logic said these were to rest the knees and forearms once a subject was mounted. With the forearms or elbows on the front protrusions, the subject would be lying horizontal across the top. It might be fun to get a patty-cake spanking atop this thing, but that wasn’t what these inbreeds had in mind. Buster was already slapping the quirt against this leg. It appeared to be the same implement he’d used last night.

  “Ya’ll get her up,” Buster instructed the rednecks.

  They forced Sarah the few more feet to the horse and then forced her to place her knees on the rear protrusions. She would not be able to place her arms on the front protrusions because her hands were tethered behind her back. She would have to lie with her chest pressed against the top.

  Once she was mounted, Joe and Rudy stood on either side of her to prevent her from moving. Buster commenced lashing her bottom with the quirt, taking care not to break the skin. I knew it was painful despite that.

  While Buster was whipping Sarah and Sarah was screaming, Clete took a tube of what had to be lubricant out of this pocket and smeared some on the end of one butt plug/horse’s tail. He then handed it to a redneck.

  Once Buster was through, one of the rednecks spread Sarah’s nether cheeks while the other inserted the butt plug. As one last insult, Buster step back up and separated her labia and grasped her clit between thumb and forefinger. Giving her one last slap on the butt, avoiding hitting her newly acquired tail, he instructed them to take her down.

  Once Sarah was off the horse, they brought her to the post and tied her as well. She was shaking and crying and kept her eyes downcast. When Rudy begun untying the ropes holding me to the post, I knew I was to be next.

  Last night I had escape the humiliation and pain of a butt plug. That reprieve was about to end. First, it would be the nipple clamps. Apparently, these assholes only had the one set. “Get those clamps off the other one, Joe, and put them on this one,” Rudy instructed his partner in crime. As Joe was reclaiming the clamps from Sarah’s breast, Rudy tied my hands behind my back. Once he had done so, Joe attached the first clamp.

  Nipple clamps are based on the paradigm that sexual excitement can be derived from pain. That wasn’t the case with me. I never liked pain and those clamps hurt like hell. Nonetheless, I gritted my teeth and bared it, drawing some relief in the fact I was going to kill this bunch graveyard dead once I ever got the chance. I was constantly looking for that chance.

  The butt plug could have been worse, but from the corner of my eye I saw Clete lubing mine up with an extra dollop of lubricant. Shortly, I was on my knees and Buster was inserting the plug in my butt. Once it was in, it wasn’t so bad, but for a moment as it was passing through my sphincter it felt as if it was about to rip my asshole apart.

  I won’t bore you with the details of my lashing except to say it went pretty much like Sarah’s and it did hurt like the devil. I hate to think what Buster was capable of doing if having carte blanche.

  Just as they were about to take me off the horse, in the corner of my left eye, a vehicle passed the far side of the wooden fence. Had it not been moving, I might not have realized it had a logo on the side. Passing the cracks between the boards created a flicker card effect and allowed me to realize it was a sheriff’s vehicle. Thank God!

  The thought racing through my mind was that we had been reported missing and the authorities were searching for us. In that same though was the fear the vehicle would drive off unless the deputy was made aware of our presence. I knew that I somehow had to get to that vehicle and its occupant.

  In the middle of the left side of the fence was a gate. From here it appeared to only be secured by a hook and eye type latch.

  Lifting me by my upper arms, Rudy and Joe, brought me upright while my knees still rested on the protrusions. Now that I was vertical, the object in my ass became even more irritating. I forced myself to push that thought out of my mind and concentrate on what I intended to do. I would only have a second to react.

  In that ever so short interim between the time my feet was on the ground and I was upright, but before the rednecks grasped my arms to lead me back to the post, I bulled my way past Rudy and ran as fast as possible toward the gate. Surely if I hit it head on, it would open. So, with a large object in my rectum and my hands tied behind my back, I hit the gate with my left shoulder, praying that my weight combined with my inertia would be sufficient.

  It worked as well as I had hoped. The gate flew open and hit the fence on the opposite side. The sweetest sight I had ever seen was the deputy who was just now stepping from the large SUV. I almost felt safe now that he had saw me. No matter what the four kidnappers’ reaction might be, I felt this officer would protect us.

  “Help me. Please help me,” I screamed as I ran toward him and his vehicle. I intended to stop alongside him as he stood just out of the cruiser and with the door still open. Just as I was a few feet away, he took a couple of hurried steps and grabbed me. For a moment, I thought that had been a protective reaction and I pressed my naked body against his torso. I felt safe. I was naked and humiliated, but I was safe.

  I couldn’t have been more mistaken.

  “Hey, Buster. Looks like you almost let one get away.”

  The voice came from the man tightly grasping me in his arms. He was grinning back in the direction I had just fled.

  They deputy’s name was Russ. At least that was what Buster had called him after the lawman released his grip on me once Rudy and Joe had a hand on each of my upper arms. Russ was neck-deep in this thing with Buster and the rest. After they had force me back into the yard and tied me to the post, I determined Russ was here only for the pony girl show. I also gather from listening to their conversation that it would be Russ’ patrol unit they would use to transport us to where the Mexican would buy us.

  Russ was disappointed he hadn’t gotten there in time for the whippings. Buster assured him he would whip us again if it weren’t for leaving too many marks for the Mexicans to buy.

  For the pony girl show, each of the assholes other than Clete took a length of rope and looped it around our necks with which to lead us. We were then made to get on our knees and crawl about in the dirt yard wherever we were lead. Occasionally, one or the other of the inbreeds would take the end or the rope and pop us on one nether cheek or the other, avoiding the butt plug held horse’s tail.

  Around noon they’d had their fill in addition to it being time to eat. They pulled the butt plugs out of our butts while we were still in the yard, but waited until we were inside to untie our arms and then they only untied one woman at the time before putting her into the cage.

  From all indications, we were as good as in Saudi Arabia.

  Morning came after a fitful night. Not long after I awoke, Clete came to announce that he would be taking us one at the time to the bathroom when we were to shower and wash our hair. Buster want us to look as good as possible for the Mexicans. He took me first. He led the way down the hall in his foot dragging stride.

  There was a chair in the hall facing the bath. Clete took a seat and told me to leave the door open. That was fine. I had no modesty left.

  “Ya’ll might not be going to Saudi Arabia,” he stated about the same time as I took a seat on the commode. It felt good to use a toilet again after dealing with the bucket in the cage.

  “Why is that?” I asked, my interest piqued.

  “Well, I heard Bus
ter tell Russ the Mexican were thinking about keeping some girls to send to Mexico City.”

  I didn’t ask why girls would be taken to Mexico City. I think I knew. No doubt, they would be put in brothels there.

  Two hours later after a somewhat decent breakfast, we were loaded into the same sheriff’s SUV I had made a mad dash for yesterday. I now realized how they could maneuver as freely as they did. Nobody ever suspected an officer of the law of doing something illegal.

  I was placed in the front passenger seat. The other three girls sat in the second-row seat. Buster and Clete sat in the rear. Buster carried some type of assault rifle. I couldn’t say exactly what kind it was, but I had seen similar weapons at the firing range my boyfriend went to on occasion. My boyfriend was a pistol aficionado and had taught me a little about weapons. I might have learnt more had I had any great interest.

  Just as we were about to pull out, I saw the two rednecks, Rudy and Joe exit the barn in my car. I had a feeling that once they were rid of us, they would be disposing of my vehicle. They would then ride back with Russ.

  We had to go back to the blacktop and travel a few miles before turning back into the desert. My car stayed well behind us. I supposed if we ran into any trouble for our kidnappers, Rudy and Joe would come to their rescue. We passed numerous cars I wished I could have made aware of our situation, but that was pure wishful thinking. All the while, I kept looking at the pistol on Russ’s hip from the corner of my eye. If I could somehow get my hands on that…

  We had driven several miles in the open desert when Russ stopped the vehicle a few hundred yards from the base of a large mass of rock and ruble.

  “I want to show you girls something. Over there at the base of those rocks is a deep crevasse. It called The Devil’s Hole. Nobody know how deep it is. A few times when we met up with the Mexicans, a woman will get uncooperative. If they don’t cooperate with the Mexicans, the Mexicans won’t pay for them. That leaves us with nothing left to do but get rid of them. We dump them in Devil’s Hole. Think about that if you take a notion to get antsy.”