Rancho Paloma Blanca Revisited

Group Sex

© 2004 by Estaban Bacca.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

This material is presented as adult entertainment and is not intended for any person under the age of eighteen years. While every precaution has been taken in the preparation of this book, the author assumes no responsibilities for errors or omissions, or for damages resulting from the use of information contained herein. All characters and descriptions are purely fictitious.


I patiently waited until all the sobbing finally died away. I listened as they whispered words of comfort and encouragement to one another. At last they were quiet, with the exception of intermittent whimpers and moans of pain testifying to the extreme discomfort of their stretched bodies. It was time to get back to work. I had to repress a smile as I saw the anxiety the mere sound of my approach occasioned.

During the course of our first lesson together I had grown exceedingly tired of the sound of Mom’s voice. I pressed up in front of her and smiled as I looked into her eyes. With no warning, she hacked up a gob of spit and expelled it in my face. Still smiling, I carefully gathered it from my cheek and smeared it evenly over her face. I then slowly unfastened the ankle length skirt she was wearing and let it drop around her ankles. Taking a handful of her panties, I tore them loose from her with a powerful jerk. I then pinched her nose until a lack of air forced her mouth open. I returned her gesture by sending an even larger load of my own saliva into her yawning mouth and then stuffing it with her torn panties until her cheeks bulged. I gave her face a couple of mocking little pats and left her hanging there while I went to attend to her daughter.

The girl’s pretty face was tear stained. Her poor eyes were all puffy and red from crying. She watched me fearfully and fresh tears started streaming silently down her cheeks. With one hand I cradled her chin and with the other released the vice clamp from her hair. I gently lowered her head and she gave out a long, grateful groan of relief. I had just given her a small gift of pleasure. After the stick comes the carrot. I would be kind to her now, while all her little boo boos healed. As I unfastened her wrists and ankles, I crooned sweetly to her in the tone one uses to sooth a child.

“There, there. No more pain for Baby Pussy today. I am going to take care of you.”

I helped her roll onto her back. Her joints were so stiff that she could barely move them. I fetched a cold bottle from the fridge. I supported her head while she drank thirstily. I had to caution her to drink slowly twice. The drink was laced with protein supplement and a mild muscle relaxant. I continued to comfort her while the mixture took effect.

After a bit I got her off the table, taking care to avoid the souvenir she had left on the floor. With my arm around her shoulders, I ushered her past her mother’s worried eyes. Whatever protests the woman was making were effectively muffled by her mouthful of panties. The teenager hobbled along beside me on her bruised feet, hugging her arms around herself in a pathetic attempt to cover her girlish breasts. As her mother watched helplessly, we disappeared through a rear door into yet another area of the Quonset hut.

In the very rear of the building I had constructed a cinder block cube made up of four identical cells. Set into each wall of the cellblock was the door to one cell. A prisoner entering or leaving would have no idea that there were three other cells adjacent to their own. The walls were padded and sound proofed on the order of those used to lock down violent mental patients. Along a wall, a raised concrete bench with a thin naughahyde pad served as a bunk. There was a single wool blanket. The toilets were Japanese style, a hole in the floor with two raised surfaces for the feet. There were no windows. A sane person spending much time in such a room could easily go mad.

I opened one of the cells, led the girl to the bunk and helped her stretch out. The muscle relaxant had kicked in and she lay there limply, no longer making any effort to cover her nudity.

I left the cell briefly and returned with a pan of warm water, a towel and a soft washcloth. I sat down beside the girl and still talking to her in soothing tones, began to bathe her. Her physical and emotional exhaustion, coupled with the medication had rendered her totally passive. The feel of the warm water and downy soft cloth coffeedonutfest.com soon caused her to drift off to sleep. She had momentarily escaped the pain of her new reality. With the towel I patted her dry.

As she lay there, I studied her again, noticing for the first time a sprinkle of faint freckles across the bridge of her nose. It was refreshing to see a young girl with no tattoos or body piercings, other than the tiny holes in her earlobes. I leaned over and pulled one of those lobes into my mouth and lightly chewed on it. I bit down a trifle harder and was rewarded with a faint moan from her sleeping lips.

I sat up again and after a moment began playing with the girl’s nipples, flicking them until they became turgid. It amused me to sit here toying with the girl as she slept while the mother hung helpless and fretting nearby.

No doubt all sorts of terrible fears were racing through Mom’s frantic mind. I was counting on it. Giving her imagination time to run wild was the reason I was delaying my return to her. While I was thinking about her next ordeal, my fingers had absently begun dabbling just inside the lips of her daughter’s virgin cunt. I noticed what I was doing when I felt the little vixen begin to secrete. In short order her narrow purse had become quite juicy.

Apparently she was a sexual little thing by nature. My, my, I thought, the things we discover along the way. I decided that it was time to go and break the mare to the bit and saddle. Reluctantly, I pulled my fingers from the filly’s squishy, little box and licked her dew from them. Hmm, tasty indeed, I thought.

I departed her cell, locking the door behind me. I flicked a switch that activated a microphone and video monitor hidden in the ceiling. This quiet interlude with Baby Pussy had refreshed me. I headed toward my last task of the day with a light heart, even practicing a few Salsa steps as I went.

Needless to say Mom was still hanging around. I lowered the overhead hoist slightly until she could stand flat footed again. She couldn’t thank me, of course, but a sigh of relief escaped her mouthful of undies. With little difficulty, I attached another pair of lined cuffs to her ankles. She made a feeble attempt to kick me but she was just too worn down for it to be effective. The line from the suspended pulley was made fast to the left ankle cuff and soon I was hauling on it and watching her left leg rise. When her sneakered foot was about the same height as her head I tied it off. Now she was naked from the waste down, with her cunt gaping, and struggling to balance on her right leg alone.

Satisfied, I went and retrieved the buggy whip. I was thoroughly pleased with her wild-eyed look when she saw it in my hand. I placed a folding chair in front of her so I could be comfortable while I gave my standard lecture. I sat with my elbows on my knees, holding the whip loosely. She eyed the tip of it nervously as it bobbed teasingly just below her spread crotch.

“Now, you brainless cunt, listen to what I have to tell you. You have been very noisy and abusive ever since you woke up and found yourself hanging here. Your noise making days are over.”

I punctuated my words with a tap from the whip to her open pussy, causing her to hop on her one leg.

“From now on you will speak only when spoken to. My name is Sir. That will be the last word of every utterance I allow you to make. Nod that you understand!”

A slightly sharper tap with the whip and she nodded frantically.

“When you spit in my face, it showed great spirit. I appreciate spirit in a person. You are no longer a person though. You are a slave. Slaves may not have spirit. Nod that you understand.”

Again even harder with the whip between the lips of her pussy and she once more nodded violently. I felt she understood about speaking without permission so I rose and pulled the damp panties from her mouth and threw them in the trashcan.

“Rebecca and Erica have ceased to exist. Once you have been properly trained you will be delivered to your owner and Mistress. If she wishes you to have a name she will give you one. Until then you will answer to Cowcunt and your daughter will be referred to as Baby Pussy. Nod that you understand.”

I got an immediate nod but I snapped the whip up between her legs anyway. The meat between her labial lips had gone from pink to bright red.

“Beyond the rule of silence there is only one other rule. It is that you shall instantly obey any order given you. If I tell you to bark like a fucking dog, you will bark until you are told to stop. Whatever I tell you to do you will do immediately and without question. Tell me that you understand the two lousy rules, Cowcunt!”

Naturally, she just began to busily nod in the affirmative. I leapt up and flung my chair across the room.

“WHY ARE YOU FUCKING NODDING, COWCUNT?” I screamed in her ear.

I took the whip and beat a tattoo on her exposed cuntmeat. She screamed madly as she hopped crazily about in a vain effort to escape my busy whip.


“I UNDERSTAND! I UNDERSTAND THE TWO RULES!” she screeched, desperately.

Again I laid on with the whip, fast and furious. She screamed so hard her vocal chords gave way. In her ridiculous attempt to dodge the whip she lost her balance and her one leg collapsed. Finally she hung there like a gutted chicken. Drool poured from her slack mouth and all she could do was whine weakly. Whatever spirit she’d had was well and truly broken. All that remained for me to do was to strip her of what little self-esteem she had left. Once the last shreds of her dignity went into the trashcan with the rest of her shit, I could begin to re-invent her. I went to her and lifted her head by the sad remains of her French twist. I waited for her gaze to finally focus and calmly corrected her.

“That should have been ‘I understand the two rules, Sir.'”

It took her a moment to gather her wits, but eventually she managed to choke it out.

“I understand the two rules, Sir.” She gasped, weakly.

“That’s a good Cowcunt.” I praised her, as I stroked her sweat-dampened hair.

With my knife I sliced the two strings supporting my broken puppet and she collapsed in a heap. I decided to let her lie there for a bit until her circulation was restored. I felt the need to celebrate with some music. Soon the sound of violins filled the room. This time I had chosen a concerto by Tchaikovsky as a suitable accompaniment for the day’s finale. As soon as I felt she’d had enough of a rest, I prodded her with the toe of my boot.

“Come on, Cowcunt! Up with your lazy ass! Come on, up on your hands and knees.”

Painfully she obeyed me. I could see that every movement was excruciating to her aching shoulder joints. I noticed with great glee that she kept her knees well apart in an effort to alleviate any friction to her tenderized pussy.

“Now, Cowcunt, I want you to crawl over to that trashcan. When you get there, I want you to strip off everything you are still wearing and throw all of it away.”

With her head lowered, she began to crawl. A slight wave of the whip sent her scurrying across the tiles at a much more entertaining pace. Her sweater, bra and her socks and sneakers were soon discarded. As I was inspecting her nakedness, I noticed the glint of a ring on her finger. The ring her dead husband had given her. I made her throw that away as well and watched her weep as she did it.

“Okay, Cowcunt, crawl over to that mess your daughter made on my floor and clean it up.”

I followed behind her, enjoying the view of her swaying ass as she crawled across the floor. When she reached the puddle of her daughter’s piss, she looked back at me inquiringly.

“What are you waiting for?” I asked her.

“What Shall I use to clean it up with, Sir?”

“Use your fat cow tongue, you dumb twat.” I ordered her.

For the briefest instant I saw her consider refusing. A brief waggle of the whip was all it took. Her shoulders sagged in defeat and she slowly lowered her mouth to the puddle. I watched, entranced, as her tongue emerged and she began to lap the urine from the floor. Several times she started to gag but her stomach seemed to settle and soon she was able to proceed without retching.

The sound of her slurping up all that piss turned me on. Over the course of my time with these two I had developed a considerable amount of sexual tension. I determined that I was due some release. I pulled my cock from my trousers and fell to my knees behind her. I seized her by the hips and sank myself in her to the hilt. My sudden thrust into her tender, bruised cunt caused her to go berserk. As she squealed and bucked beneath me I almost came uncunted. I grabbed a fresh handful of her ass with my left hand and hung on, while with my right I commenced to whale the other cheek for all I was worth, the whole time sawing in and out of her with abandon.

When I felt her quit fighting me, I let go of her ass and pushed her face back down into the piss.

“Move your ass for me and keep lapping, you filthy cow.” I commanded.

With a shudder of disgust, she resumed lapping up the puddle and at the same time began to rock her ass back into me. She was totally degraded now. On her knees before me with her cunt full of cock and her mouth full of piss. I owned her.

I slowed my rhythm to match the swaying strains of the violins and had a lovely, leisurely fuck and eventually came with great gusto inside her hot, tender tunnel.

I arose and surveyed her after the fact. Her tongue was still working tiredly at the tiles.

“Enough! Unless, of course, you are still thirsty.”

She pulled her tongue back into her mouth and averted her eyes. I took up the whip and poked and prodded her until I had her in a pleasing position. I made her arch her back and raise her ass for me, keeping her knees wide. As a final touch I holstered the handle of the buggy whip in her rectum. I left her kneeling there, with my cum dribbling down her inner thighs and her face soaked in her daughter’s piss.

I felt fairly knackered, what with all my strenuous endeavors, so I settled back into the comfort of my recliner once more for a well earned rest. I sipped some more of my favorite wine while the violins played and the buggy whip lifted and fell with her breathing.


I must have dozed off without intending to. A glance at my Tag Huer told me that I had been peacefully napping for half an hour. Even more surprising and just as satisfying, was the fact that my new trainee had not moved an inch.

“Is Cowcunt tired?” I inquired.

“Yes. Very tired, Sir.”

“WHO is very tired?” I inquired a second time.

“Cowcunt is very tired, Sir.”

She got that point quickly. Perhaps she was not as thick as I had begun to fear. I prodded her onto all fours. I pulled her skirt out of the trash and tossed across to her, along with a spray bottle of cleaning solution. I made her finish wiping up the floor.

When she completed that chore, I had her crawl ahead of me back to the cellblock. She scuttled into the cell I directed her to and I had to laugh as the whip swayed ludicrously from its socket in her nether hole. I decided to let her sleep in her stink as a further lesson. Tomorrow I would introduce her to the various uses of a garden hose. There would be no sponge bath for Cowcunt. I was about to take my whip and leave her in peace when she disappointed me again.

“What have you done with Erica, Sir?”

“Do you have a learning disability, Cowcunt?”

I snatched the whip out of her ass with a snarl and raised it. She instantly shrank down, cowering abjectly. Her pitiful quivering softened my intent and I lowered the whip.

“Now, for the last time…There is no longer any Erica. Tell me that you completely understand this.”

“Cowcunt understands, Sir. May Cow cunt ask one question, Sir?”

“That IS one question. Okay,” I said, impatiently, “What is it?”

“Will Cowcunt ever see Baby Pussy again, Sir?”

I pretended to ponder this. I twirled the whip like a baton, reversing my grip on it. I extended it handle first and raised her chin with it until our eyes met. I smiled down at her.

“I have not decided yet. It will probably depend on your behavior. Now be a smart Cowcunt and open your pretty mouth and stick out your talented, pink tongue.”

Her eyes watered up at this further humiliation but she did it. With a smile I pushed the soiled handle past her parted lips.

“Now look at me and suck it clean.”

She closed her mouth over it and started sucking it with her eyes locked on mine. As soon as it began to glisten with her saliva, I moved it in and out. Slowly fucking her face with it. I pushed it slightly deeper with each thrust until it began to force her throat and triggered her gag reflex.

“If Cowcunt ever wants to see Baby Pussy again she will learn to do this. Now relax your throat and breathe through your nose.”

It took her only ten minutes to master it. In the end the handle was well down her gullet and I swizzled it for a full minute while I smiled into those Nordic blue eyes. I was impressed. I slid it out at last and scratched her behind an ear as one does a clever pet.

“Crawl up on that bunk and sleep now. You have another busy, exciting day awaiting you tomorrow.”

I left then, locking her in and setting the surveillance system. I secured the main entrance to the hanger and moved quickly toward the hacienda. The monitors were wired to the TV in the master bedroom. From there I could check on them at my convenience.

I had another priority. I had a date later with a gorgeous senorita. I would have to hustle in order to shower and dress for dinner. She had assured me that she was as talented in la cocina as she was in the bedroom. I hoped she would make good on her promise to dosh up one of my favorites, camerones o langostinos. The hard day’s work behind me had left me famished.

~Chapters 4, 5 and 6 of 18 ~

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