Scenes From the Ranch

Note: The story depicts a fantasy setting of an incredibly kinky ranch. Actions depicted may not match the reality of typical behavior, understandings of consent, physical capability, etc etc. Enjoy and thanks for reading!

PART ONE

There were noises coming out of Mallory's stall, the kind of noises that riled up the other stock, the ones still in chastity. The noises had gotten louder over the course of the past several days but the stable hands were under strict instruction to not interfere, so they didn't.

The noises could reasonably be described as moans, but they were more than that. They were deep, guttural noises, noises that emanated from from the deepest part of the soul, the hidden part, the shameful part, the part that would drive someone to opt into this kind of life.

They were even past the kind of moans you get from human stock after more than a year of orgasm denial, 23 hours and 45 minutes of each day in chastity, taken out only for cleaning and/or for a quick hump from a stablehand. (Although the stable hands were a playfully cruel bunch, and would often unlock the stock for their 15 minutes but then refuse to touch their cunts, fucking their faces or asses instead.) The sounds emanating from the stall were the kind you get when you take more than a year of that treatment and you pile on top of it days spent on a teasemount.

The teasemount was one of the many creations of the ranch's engineering department. Fully adjustable to perfectly fit any stock, the teasemount held the stock's limbs in place while supporting her body. The breasts lay on top of shallow cups, at the bottom of which lay little silicone nubs that would twist and turn and shake, teasing the stock's nipples. At the other end of the bench was a mount for a magic wand, though that could be swapped out for one of several other mounts if a stock were particularly attached to some other vibrator.

Mallory was magic wand all the way, so one stood firmly clamped against her clit, an elastic strap holding her hips to the tapered end of the bench, ensuring that while she could twist away from it for limited periods of time, eventually she would tire and return her cunt to resting on the vibrator. A butt plug was inserted, and a wire ran into a mounted electronics box. The plug sensed the general tensing of muscles involved in orgasm, and when the teasemount detected one coming on it shut the vibrator off.

It was devilishly effective. The front end of the teasemount featured the ability to mount a dildo stuck in the stock's mouth, or that could be quickly removed if the stock was to be used for face fucking. Lastly, the setup naturally left the stock open for any spanking or whipping that was deemed appropriate.

Prior to the last four days, Mallory had only been in the teasemount once, when Paul, the stable hand who looked after her had lost a bet. Prior to the last four days she had lived the standard life of stock in waiting. She slept on a mattress on the ground, a narrow but sturdy iron collar around her neck. Her meals came in a bowl and most of the time she was allowed to eat them with her hands.

She was let out into the open yard twice a day, once in the morning and once in the evening, where she was encouraged to work out and stay active, and where she was permitted to interact with the other stock so long as they did not speak to each other. Stock could speak to the stable hands and anyone in the big house, but never to each other.

It was striking what kind of culture could develop with a bunch of loosely supervised stock. There was an obvious status hierarchy the day Mallory arrived, and she was careful to note who was who. The top stock was obvious - she occupied the shadiest spot in the yard, and she had one stock rubbing her foot while another fetched her water. Mallory knew from the labels on the outside of the stalls that she was named Isis, and Mallory had made an immediate move to gain her favor upon arriving on the ranch.

Mallory had been a masseuse in her pre-stock life and so she approached Isis immediately, making like she was working on a knot on her own shoulder, then pointing to Isis with a hopeful look on her face. Isis looked curious and used her foot to push away the girl rubbing it, then lay face down on the ground and motioned for Mallory to work on her back. It had gone well, and while having the favor of Isis had meant she hadn't met much trouble on the yard, it did mean that the girl who had been rubbing Isis' foot stared daggers at Mallory every time Mallory caught her eye.

So the time on the yard passed well, with Mallory falling in with Isis and her clique, sometimes play wrestling for Isis' amusement, sometimes massaging Isis or those Isis told her to work on, and only once or twice falling victim to Isis' bad mood, which both times meant an evening on her belly, sucking on Isis' toes.

Overall Mallory lucked out, though, winning the protection of Isis early on and soon after drawing the attention of the stable hand, Paul. Paul was a soft spoken but firm hand who apparently had enough status with his peers to claim Mallory early on. He had entered her stall on what she thought was the 20th day and offered her the opportunity to suck his dick, explaining that if he liked what she did with it he was likely to claim her.

Back when Mallory was a person, before she had given that up to become stock, you could reasonably say that she was sensible and pragmatic, so when Paul made her the offer she jumped at it, and her dick sucking must have been at least acceptable, because Paul hung his hat outside her stall and everybody else steered clear.

So it was Paul who brought her breakfast and stood in the doorway to watch her eat it, Paul who returned after his dinner to restrain her hands at her collar to prevent any touching, unlock and remove her chastity, then hose her down and give her a scrub with a soft brush before locking her back up.

Paul liked to sit with her after that, talking with her, telling her about who he was and where he'd been in his life, hearing the same from her, while he softly brushed her hair in anticipation of bed. It was Paul who returned for sex day after day, really growing to enjoy himself using Mallory. After a few weeks Paul even brought her eyeliner, mascara and eye shadow along with a few pictures torn out of magazines of looks he wanted to see on her. Some of the stock only had access to something like that when they were taken into the big house, where the stock was treated very differently, including things like hair and makeup services, and that Paul had extended this to her while she was still yard stock made her feel very cared for. Paul brought her books and magazines when he was done with them, which helped her pass the time, and gave her things to talk about with him.

It wasn't all kindness. About a month and a half into her time on the ranch Mallory had made the mistake of shying away from his touch one night, trying to indicate that she wasn't in the mood, and he had gotten a stern look on his face.

"I know what this is," he said, "and it isn't what I like to see and it's not going to get you anywhere on this ranch. Maybe I've been too nice." He left the stall to fetch some gear. Mallory's hands were cuffed behind her back and her mouth was forced open for a ball gag, which Paul tightened one notch past where it started to get uncomfortable. Clamps were placed on her nipples, and he sat down on her mattress and pulled her over his knee, then vigorously spanked her ass until it was a deep red.

When he was done with that he tossed her to the side, pulled out his cock and before she could realize what was happening he was pressing against her ass, telling her not to fight it, telling her that she had chosen this life and that meant giving up other choices, telling her the smart thing was to be good. Mallory was now very turned on by the spanking and, if she was being honest, the way he had disregarded how she felt and taken what he wanted. So she yielded, quickly warming up to and then loving the thrusting and the penetration she had not gotten in her stay so far. With a sharp grunt she could feel him cum in her ass and then he leaned in to whisper in her ear.

"I think you're a smart piece of stock, and I think you get what I'm trying to say here. But I like to make myself clear and I don't want you to get confused, so you stay like this--exactly like this, bound and with cum leaking out of your ass--until morning. Is that clear?"

She nodded and he stood up and left. It was an incredibly long night like that, mostly due to the fact that the only way to keep her nipples from feeling like they were on fire was to prop herself mostly to one side, which made it impossible to sleep. A whole night without being able to move, drooling into the mattress, feeling the cum dry on her leg, gave her a lot of time to think.

Once her horniness started to fade she moved through a sizable bit of resentment; how dare he treat her like this, why didn't he understand that she was just feeling tired, blah blah blah, before coming closer to acceptance that this was life on the ranch, life as stock. She wasn't sure why it had taken this night to reach this point.

After all, she had seen stock come out for yard time with their tits bound in tight circles, with their hair soaked with piss, had seen farm hands hop the fence of the yard and demand two stock kneel for an impromptu public cock sucking contest. She considered that maybe she just hadn't accepted that that kind of thing could happen to her, even seeing it right in front of her, she just felt she was different. She felt grateful to Paul for his guidance.

She got Paul's message loud and clear and he hadn't had to go that far again, although if he felt like she was being lazy or slow, or he just felt like a little maintenance would help her stay focused, there were spankings, afternoons she spent gagged, nights she spent in bondage.

Once, on what he knew from her file was her birthday, he came out into the evening yard session and draped her over the lower fence rail, fucking her ass in front of the rest of the stock. She was still blushing when he was brushing her hair that night, and he laughed endlessly when he realized that she didn't know it was her birthday.

She didn't know because she had settled into her day-to-day experience. The comfort of Paul's attention, the challenge of Isis, and all the while starting to explore the depth of her new life as stock, growing very fond of what she knew the benefits would be. The lack of decisions, the provision of basic needs, the freedom in letting go of her previous life. She felt she was made for the ranch and the ranch was made for her.

Months went by like that, the only real evidence of that being the gradual shifts in the weather, the length of the daylight. Eventually came a day in late spring, when the weather feels just past the pleasantness of warm. Mallory was sitting in her stall after the evening yard time, trying not to let what had been an ugly day on the yard sour her mood for her coming time with Paul.

Two new girls had been on the yard today, one of whose time had passed in an entirely not notable manner, and the other, whose day was one of the rougher ones Mallory had seen in her year plus on the ranch.

The girl had stumbled out shortly after yard time began, her hair all messed up, a dry streak of cum on her face, mouth held open with a ring gag, and her arms sticking out to the side latched to an iron bar that protruded from each side of her collar. The other stock had their fun with her, and then a pair of stable hands had come by and added more on top of it. It hadn't been a pretty sight and the girl had ended the day on her back, crying softly.

Mallory's thoughts quickly shifted when Paul came in grinning from ear to ear. It felt to Mallory like he was rushing through the cleaning, and it was when he plunked down behind her and began brushing her hair that she finally felt him let out a big, excited sigh.

"I have the greatest news," he said.

"For you, or for me?" she asked.

"For you," he said, "But it reflects well on me. You're going to the big house."

Mallory felt light-headed for just a moment. There were girls in the yard with three, four annual earrings in their ears who had never been chosen to go up to the big house, and here she was barely over a single year and she was going in. She laughed at herself for her first thought being whether or not Isis would be mad at her for leaving. That wasn't her concern, she realized. She felt light-headed again, and Paul laid her gently down on the mattress.

"What's it like up there?" she asked.

"I don't 100% know myself, having only been inside every so often for this or that chore," he said. "But it always feels like everybody knows their job up there, knows their place. When you get up there they'll probably let you know how you're supposed to be. Go with the flow, that's my advice."

"Go with the flow," Mallory repeated quietly to herself. A moment of silence passed between them.

"You'll need to go through the standard preparation," Paul said. "Have you been here for any of the other stock going through that?" Mallory shook her head. Paul described it to her: five solid days of teasing, strapped to the teasemount the entire time, the vibrator cycling on and off, his job as the stablehand to prevent her from orgasm. He wasn't sure if they were going to work on her cocksucking skills during the prep ("I told them you were pretty damn good," he assured her, and she smiled.)

He asked her if she remembered during the application process where she had answered questions about fantasies and what kind of porn she watched. She remembered, she told him, and he explained how that would be what she was watching while she was strapped in. He kissed her, gently on her head, and told her to try to get some sleep. "It's a long five days," he said.

PART TWO

Anna and Anne-Marie had become good friends in their city's BDSM scene, and they had grown tired of wannabe doms together. Anne-Marie is the one who heard about the ranch and reached out in the first place, and they had gone through the application and evaluation process together. So naturally they arrived together, walking up the long, long driveway from where the county's lone bus line let them off. They arrived in the morning, after the stock had been let out into the yard, meaning they were alone in the barn as the stablehands prepared them.

They stood together, holding on to each other at times, as their clothes were cut away, as their heavy iron collars were fixed in place, and as they were fitted for their steel chastity belts. In addition to the two stablehands taking care of them, a parade of others made their way past the scene, all of them obviously checking out the new stock.

Anna was mindful of what the intake coordinator had told her, that these men were responsible for her entire life here and that making eyes at them might pay off. Anne-Marie had been somewhere else mentally during that portion of their brief orientation, and Anna could tell that not only was she not making any kind of appeal toward the men checking them out, but she even kind of made an ugly face at a few of them, probably the ones she didn't think were cute.

Anna wanted to ask about this as they settled into their stalls, one right next to the other, but there was a sign just over the door listing the rules, the first and fifth of which were "No Talking To Other Stock." So she didn't ask, and in fact she got pretty lost in thought, trying to absorb her arrival at the ranch, reviewing how it was her life had ended up where it ended up.

She was still lost in thought when a face popped its way into the doorframe of her stall. It was a large, flat face, sweaty and dirty under a floppy cowboy hat, and while the face was definitely leering heavily at Anna, it quickly announced "Nah, you ain't the uppity one" and disappeared from the door. Anna heard the owner of the face take a few steps and realized he had stopped at Anne-Marie's stable. "You're the uppity one!" he announced with glee.

Anna was scared to go to the stable door and look--it seemed like the kind of thing that would be frowned upon, even if "no looking around' wasn't one of the rules--so she had to do her best to piece together what was happening from the noises.

First, she heard Anne-Marie make a noise of surprise, then heard the stable door swing open. She heard a cry of pain, then brief struggle, and then the kind of non-words somebody makes when they're trying to adjust to having a ring gag holding their mouth open. And then she shuddered, because the sound that filled the air was the unmistakable sound of a cock hitting the back of a throat. That sound continued on for several minutes.

Anna sat and tried not to think about what was happening to her friend, although the sound made that distinctly impossible. Anne-Marie wasn't exactly being assaulted, she thought, as they both had given a wide-ranging consent during the application process and both were well aware that when they took their place on the ranch they were considered property of the ranch, stock, and it was made explicit that people who worked for the ranch took full advantage of the stock. They knew this kind of thing happened, in fact, it was more or less the point.

Anna wondered if Anne-Marie felt differently now that things had become real. Her mind drifting over the concrete realities of Anne-Marie's situation drove a tingle in her legs and her hand idly drifted down between her thighs, only to suddenly impact the hard steel of her chastity belt. "I let them do this to me," she thought. "And Anne-Marie is letting them do that to her."

What was happening to Anne-Marie now took the sound of a deep, extended grunt, presumably coming from the flat-faced man. Anne-Marie gave a brief, sharp noise of shock but did not otherwise attempt to speak or bargain or scream. There was the sound of metal scraping on metal, and the click of locks.

"There," Anna heard the man say. "That'll do for now." Anna's heart went out to Anne-Marie but she knew there was nothing she could do. Even when afternoon yard time started she would be able to see her friend but wouldn't be able to help her, would she? She wasn't even allowed to speak to her! Anna decided to spend the time until the afternoon yard time meditating; this was going to be a challenging experience and she wanted to confront it as her best self.

There were no clocks in the stables, but when Anna heard the exterior door on the stable click open she knew it would be early evening, and that she was expected to exit her stall for the later yard time. Briefly brushing her hair with her hands, she took a deep breath and stepped through the door.

A half dozen individuals milled about in the yard. Anna thought of them as women for a moment - "my god, those are beautiful women," she thought to herself, before correcting herself internally, noting that neither they nor herself should be thought of as women. They were stock, at this point, specifically yard stock, and she knew it would be helpful to remember that she was something less than human. The thought made the ache between her thighs grow.

One stock in particular caught her attention. Standing beneath the yard's massive oak tree, leaning against the trunk, looking relaxed. Tall, with cascading brunette curls framing a cute, round face. Her skin was a deep tan, and Anna stared for a moment at her wide hips and large breasts. As her eyes made it up and down the body she realized the stock knew she was watching. As their eyes locked the stock smiled at Anna and gave the universal "come here" curl of the finger. Anna froze for a moment, unsure and considering panicking -- who was this stock? what did she want with Anna? -- when she was saved by Anne-Marie, who came stumbling out of her stall into the yard.