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The Horse Thief
by Emile
Copyright 2007. This is a work of fantasy and the writer does
not suggest or condone any particular activities. You should obey the laws of your
juristiction, ie consensual sex between adults.
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He was strung up in the barn by his
wrists, legs spread wide and lashed to the posts, bare feet dangling inches
from the ground. His broad shoulders
were knotted from exertion, veins popping out of his forearms. If they left him another hour he'd dislocate
them, although the pain was already as intense.
He'd been handsome, before, swarthy and tanned with a chiselled jaw and
a twinkle in his pale blue eyes. But
he'd never be that cocky stud again, they'd make sure of that. When they'd caught him trying to make off
with one of the colts, Lewis and Reb had tackled him to the ground, knocking
him senseless with a king hit to the jaw.
From the ache and the swelling he'd say it was broken, but more pain
came from the other hits - they'd given him a black eye and swung punches at
his chest and lats, and Reb had smacked him hard in the balls repeatedly until
he passed out. His tender sac felt like
it was on fire, every swing sending wrenching pain up his gut. They must've stripped him when he was out
cold, because he hung there naked, dick in the breeze, sweat pouring off his
body like he'd been hosed down. He heard
a noise and opened his one good eye, squinting against the harsh sunset. Jack was standing there, evil glint in his
eye as always, brandishing a mean looking iron spike. "Three strikes
Caleb" he sneered "You know what the sheriff said in Redrock, that if
you tried rustling again he'd turn a blind eye to the consquences. Well cowboy, welcome to the
consequences!"
First there'd been the beating. Jack was savage with the iron bar, long slow
swings that welted the skin without breaking bones. His legs and butt were crisscrossed with deep
purple bruises. When they let him down,
the pain was excruciating, he couldn't stand.
Jack was pleased by that, told him he'd be easier to handle. They
brought in a 'stool' - a tripod mounted with a 13 inch thick dildo. Despite his yells and pleas, Reb and Lewis
each grabbed an arm and a leg, spreading him wide, lifting him up and lowering
him onto the blunt end of the plastic cock.
They rested him on the knob, but the huge cap was too big for his virgin
shitchute, so they each leaned in, tracing his thigh up to his arsehole, and
grabbed each side of his arsehole - six thick fingers prizing it open, force
feeding the rubber dong into his unlubed hole.
He screamed and bucked, but all his weight was on their thumbs hooked
under his armpits, and as they lowered him, gravity forced him relentlessly
down onto the stool. The prong invaded
his guts, lodging 7 inches of hard latex up his arse, ripping the lining as it
suctioned the sides, stretching his cavity wildly. At the 7 inch mark, he got stuck. Still, not to be deterred, Lewis and Reb changed
their grip to push down on his sweat slicked shoulders,forcing him down another
3 arse-tearing inches on the dong.
Despite the agony of the dildo-rape, after banging away at his prostrate
for so long, his dick was rock hard.
Jack came up and toyed with the head, enjoying Caleb's discomfort as
Jack made the stalk leak the precum his arse so badly needed. But at the 10
inch mark, the dildo beer-can thick at that point, he stopped. They lowered the winch, and tying his wrists
together, hooked him up to it, with enough slack for him to finish the job,
just to keep his arms out of the way. He
begged for them to let him go, that his arse would be ruined, but they just
laughed. "Okay Caleb, while we wait for your arse juices to do their job,
we've got a little game to play. Jack
grabbed Caleb's balls, stretching them out to loop a metal chain around
them. He looped it tightly, padlocking
the free end to cinch it in place. When
he let go, the balls were trapped below the loop, already pulled down hard by
the weight of the heavy chain. But that
wasn't enough. Jack fed the end of the
chain through a pulley in the ground and into the tractor winch. He turned the engine on, and Caleb watched
with horror as the clain slowly retracted, until it pulled down tight through
the pulley. He yelled for them to stop,
but they kept going, until his balls were pulled an incredible 4 inches from
his body, skin like a thin strap between his dickroot and the chained
nuts. The chain had pulled his nuts in
line with the base of the dildo, and Caleb could feel the big plastic balls
rubbing against the back of his own.
About 10 feet away, Jack set down a heavy pail, but he couldn't see the
contents. "Ok" Jack said
"here are the rules. One point for
hitting a thigh, Two points for his gut, Three if you clip his dick. Four points for one ball, Five for both. Gentlemen, golf balls at the ready..."
They pummeled him for 10 minutes, lobbing
golf balls fast and low, until the pail was empty. No-one much kept score, but for every five
balls that bruised his inner thighs, one would land smack in his nuts, sending
waves of nausea through his body. A
dozen times they landed shots in his gut, winding him, And at least another 10
balls smacked his stalk, one crushing the head.
He was out of his mind with pain.
Once the volley had stopped, the dull aching grew, and to his horror,
Caleb looked down to see his balls rapidly swelling, until they were the size
of grapefruits. His dickhead too was swollen and purple like an oversized plum,
dicklips splitting apart, and the stalk was lumpy and misshapen.
Lewis wiped the sweat from his brow, admiring their handiwork. "Whooee, boy, now that'll teach you to poach here on Colder Farm."
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