Scenes From the Ranch

As with previous parts this depicts a world in which adults get up to all manner of kinky fun, and as such may not reflect the most realistic attitudes, behaviors, enthusiasm for fluids, use of sunscreen, or anything else. Enjoy.

Catching Up

Anna, a piece of stock, was starting to connect with another piece of stock when both were packed in crates and shipped off to a party, possibly for some manner of performance. Isis, another piece of stock, had a habit of bullying the other stock that got her a long, ugly dance with a bullwhip for bullying the other stock in the yard. The vibes haven't been right since.

PART ONE

Anna and Veronika lay in bed as the crates in which they had arrived were wheeled out the door. They cuddled, each taking some time to let the other be little spoon, and in the time she was being held in Veronika's grasp Anna felt herself melting. She had expected a rough, kinky life on the ranch, and instead she was finding a feeling that she suspected was, at the very least, a major crush.

Their time together was interrupted only by someone coming by to take their dinner order, then deliver the food and pick up the dishes. There was a fully stocked bathroom attached to the room and they took turns taking a long, luxurious bath, taking the hint from the provided shaving soap and razors that they should emerge from the bath smooth.

Anna found herself drifting past the bathroom door while Veronika bathed, and felt her heart catch as she saw Veronika's slender leg prop along the edge of the tub, the wet skin glinting in the light.

The two retired to bed together and Anna paused to take it in. She had been sleeping on a dirty mattress surrounded by hay for several months, and to sleep in a bed under god-only-knows-how-many-thread-count sheets was heavenly, and then to do it in the arms of Veronika?

As they settled in Anna was once again the little spoon, and she felt Veronika's hands trailing over her hips, across her chest, her stomach, and even working their way on top of her chastity belt. Veronika kept them there, working them up, and down, as if she were gracing Anna's labia, and then her middle finger making tight circles just above Anna's clit. Anna whimpered and moaned, her hips twisting back into Veronika.

"Is this okay?" Veronika asked in a whisper. "I'm not trying to tease you. I just wish..." she trailed off.

"More than okay," Anna whispered back. "Don't stop." In her head, Anna thought about all of the times she had faked an orgasm for a partner. Sometimes with contempt driving, sometimes compassion. This felt different.

As she twisted her hips, sped up her breathing, and let loose quiet but forceful moans she wanted nothing more than to draw Veronika in, to solidify what she felt they had. Judging by the vigor with which Veronika was rubbing her chastity belt, Anna thought, Veronika had to feel the same way. They fell asleep intertwined, tears clinging to the corners of Anna's eyes.

They woke up when someone made a soft knock on the door, and as Anna opened her eyes she saw that it was just past dawn. The door opened and in swooped a towering individual, distinctly androgynous at a glance.

A flopped-over wave of silver hair framed a smooth, sharp face, capping a long, lithe body that was wrapped in a flowing top and black leggings. Black booties with a kitten heel completed the look, and Anna noted that they had a very modest heel, making this individual's height all their own. He crossed the room and took up station at the foot of their bed.

"Hello hello hello helllloooo," he opened, "Mistress Diana mentioned they were sending two absolutely adorable pieces and I can already tell you two are not not not going to disappoint!"

He was bringing a lot of energy given that the sun was not fully up, Anna thought.

"Out of bed, sleepyheads, I want to see what we're working with. We got descriptions and measurements to get your looks in order but I want to see the flesh!"

Anna crawled out of bed, Veronika behind her. They stood awkwardly as this man took a deep look at them, radiating equal parts curiosity and lust as he twirled a finger, encouraging them to turn a full circle.

"I'm Mo," the man said. "I run day-to-day life at the Citadel. I am not in charge of everybody but I am certainly in charge of your two amazing butts, so don't give me any shit and we'll have ourselves an amazing party, k?"

Anna was hoping for a little bit more information, and it must have shown on her face.

"Hey don't fret," he assured her. "You two are gonna do a bit of live performance for us this evening, and I promise you our head honcho will make it clear what we expect when the time comes. But that's a ways away. First breakfast, then hair and makeup, then we got these killer outfits for the two of you, and then you're kind of the thing that moves the party from vaguely kinky get-together to full bacchanalia, it's gonna be great."

He took one step toward the door and continued. "I'll check in on you later, if you need me for some reason tell someone who seems like they're working. There are robes in the closet. Be good!" And he turned on his kitten heel and strode out of the room.

Anna and Veronika looked at each other. Veronika shrugged and walked over to the closet, finding in it two lush robes just their size. Their breakfast order was taken and they settled in to eat at a big bay windows seat, looking out at wherever it was they were.

The building they were in was brick and they were probably on the fifth or sixth floor, and from what they could see the block had more of the same. Some tall brick buildings, some modern apartment buildings that were mostly glass and concrete, and on an abutting street they could just make out, some rather stately Victorians.

"Any idea where we are?" Anna asked.

"The Citadel, sounds like" Veronika answered with a smile and Anna gave her a small shove on the arm. "Based on our starting point, how long we were in the truck, and the street out there, I'm pretty sure we're in Seattle. Does it matter?"

"I guess not," said Anna. She wondered how many ultra-kinky places were tucked away - a ranch here, a citadel there, maybe a mansion on Martha's Vineyard? The international space station? Maybe anything behind closed doors was just full of bondage and spankings, she thought, before realizing that if that had been the case she wouldn't have had to trade her whole life for a spot on the ranch.

She was snapped out of her ponderous state by the entry of two women, behind them a person with a shaved head who was wearing a jumpsuit and a substantial leather collar. The jumpsuited person pushed a cart laden with substantial makeup kits and other equipment.

This was the hair and makeup Mo had mentioned, Anna realized. The closest Anna had ever come to genuinely professional hair and makeup was one day as a bridesmaid, and that one was something of a rush job so the lone pro could focus on the bride.

Anna almost expected the two women to start talking with them about what kind of looks they might want, but when they were simply seated and the pros consulted notes before setting to work Anna realized that someone else had a look for them in mind, and that was going to be that. Was it Mo's decision? Master or Mistress?

She wanted badly to talk to Veronika, but they had been seated facing away from each other on opposite sides of the room. As Anna's assigned professional went to work, Anna just closed her eyes and attempted to relax.

Once she aimed for that state it was easier to stay there, and Anna did not open her eyes while her hair was twisted and pulled, nor while her face was sponged and blended and highlighted. When the person finally stepped back behind her and announced that she had finished, then Anna opened her eyes.

What greeted her was, without question, the best she had ever looked. Her skin looked flawless, her eyes dramatic, her lips soft and full and the most inviting shade of red. She had never managed to master winged eyeliner in her previous life, and now it was sharp enough to cut someone. Her hair had been drawn back in two tight braids, each running back along the crown of her head and tailing into a braided ponytail.

She swooned over herself, briefly, and then expressed significant thanks to the woman who had worked on her. The woman was polite but brief in accepting her thanks and fired off a quick text message before beginning to pack up her supplies.

Veronika had slipped into the bathroom as Anna's work was just finishing up, and as she emerged Anna saw that Veronika's look was more-or-less identical, and Anna wanted badly to throw Veronika down on the bed and have passionate sex with her gorgeous companion.

"You look fucking incredible," she said instead.

"YOU look fucking incredible!" Veronika replied, and the two of them moved to the mirror over the dresser to admire each other and themselves. Their arms naturally snaked behind each other and a tender moment began to develop, only to be immediately interrupted by the door banging open and Mo wheeling a garment rack inside.

"Hello again kittens," he cheerfully announced. "Your measurements were provided to us ahead of time so these should fit just fine but if they don't we've got people in house who can make adjustments, so let's get you two dressed and see what needs doing."

Mo unzipped a series of garment bags, revealing for each woman black latex stockings, a garter belt, a pleated miniskirt, and a crop top that zipped up the middle. No panties, Anna noticed.

The clothes fit exquisitely, which delighted Mo. "So," he said as he glanced at his watch, "you'll eat, you'll polish, and then you'll get on your knees just inside the door, one on each side. Sir will be along when it is time for your evening to begin."

Anna did not know what time it was, but she knew the hair and makeup had taken a substantial amount of time. They were getting a meal, so it couldn't be all that far off dinner, but what time did this kind of party start? Was there going to be any kind of play prior to the party?

It occurred to her that she still had no idea what was going to happen. It could be everything from simply being on display to a gangbang, she realized, and she gave a tiny shudder.

Anna and Veronika both ate reasonably light dinners, then took their time polishing each other. Anna relished running her hands up and down Veronika's legs, across her chest. Mo had not told them when Sir, apparently, would be along, but Anna knew it would be a massive sign of disrespect if they were not ready for him, so they curtailed the polishing fun and settled in position just inside the door.

That left them gazing at each other, and as she took in the sight that was Veronika Anna felt her crush tumbling like a snowball downhill, picking up feelings and lust as it went and building with a frightening speed. It was difficult to breathe for a moment, and then the door kicked open.

PART TWO

Isis sat in her now customary spot, trying to make the most of the thin line of shade given off by the barn. She looked, for the 1000th time, at the ball and chain attached to her ankle. They were at least kind enough to switch which leg it was on every morning.

Last night had been an extended round of the hands' new favorite game, where after her chastity belt was removed a magic wand was tossed into her stall and then snatched away as she finally dragged herself within reach. Then it was tossed into the other corner and she went after it again, on and on.

Isis knew she could just decline to chase the vibrator, but she knew it wasn't wise to spoil the hands' fun, not in the position she was in these days. Besides, maybe one of these times she would get her hands on it.

The result of this was that Isis was growing pretty strong in the legs and hips, although she wasn't entirely sure what use that would be to her. Mostly she sat against the barn during the day, let the hands have their fun at night, and kept on existing as stock.

It was in her spot against the barn one day that she felt the winds change. The spot of perpetual shade, the most coveted one on the yard, her former throne, was empty. The two girls who had taken it up after Isis lost it had disappeared somewhere, and the resulting scramble to take possession of it had been ugly.

The hands were always encouraging the stock to wrestle, to play fight. They thought it was hot. But it meant that the stock were accustomed to going at it, and when all of a sudden something of consequence was in play things got nasty fast.

The three previous days had each featured a fight, with different stock hauled off to the infirmary and/or the punishment hut, and a lot of huddling and whispering and attempts to draft alliances or start drama had taken place. Isis was glad she was out of it. Deposed rulers weren't eligible, she guessed.

But now the spot was empty, the fights having added up to cuts across pretty faces and one set of busted ribs, but no victory, and the vibe on the yard had settled in a harsh place. The afternoon passed like that, everything seething.

Things were tense, but they managed to get even worse when one of the hands came by for a quick blowjob and one of the stock, generally just beat down by the bad vibes careening around the yard, hesitated and pulled away.

This was known to happen at the Ranch, but it was far from a regular occurrence and the reaction helped demonstrate why. The hand yelled at the stock, accused her of forgetting her place, accused her of insulting him. This brought another hand and within seconds one had thrown handcuffs around the refusing stock's wrists and the two hands dragged her off by the arms. Isis had seen girls come back from getting dragged off more than a few times, and she wondered how red and bruised this one was going to be.

Following that entertainment Isis dragged herself in for dinner and was surprised to find a woman she knew to be the matron of the big house waiting in the door of her stable, a stable hand trying to look something other than intimidated at her side.

The hand was staring at the floor and Isis always got a kick out of the hands, who generally thought of themselves as lords of their dirty little kingdom, getting all shy and subservient around the big house staff.

Matron looked at the pathetic creature dragging around what looked like a very heavy ball. Matron had been helping out in intakes the week Isis arrived at the ranch and Matron found her tan skin and green eyes quite fetching, so she had always kept Isis in the back of her mind, looking at her file every so often, wondering if she could find a place for her in the big house.

Isis' general behavior had put a significant wrench in that, but Matron couldn't help that. She had enough going on in the house without marching out to the barn to whip some stock into shape, so if Isis couldn't rise above her base impulses that wasn't Matron's problem.

The overall state of the stock and the yard wasn't matron's problem either, but it was more or less her job to make sure it wouldn't become the Master's problem. Master and Mistress were mercifully out of town for a little while, and Matron wanted to have things ship-shape by the time they returned.

Matron wondered if part of the problem was that the yard lacked structure. The hands were all more-or-less of equal status, as were the stock. Unsurprisingly for someone who lived on such a ranch, Matron thought that power played a crucial role in the interactions of human beings. Maybe, she thought, the hands might be confused about the power they possessed and how to use it.

As to the stock's confusion, it's not like the hands were around every second of every day to say who should get or do what.

A power vacuum can cause all kinds of trouble, Matron thought. But as she often did Matron sat back and thought about whether or not there was a solution that was less 'corporate human resources' and more 'kinky-as-fuck paradise,' and that thinking had brought her to Isis' stable.

Isis shrugged in response to Matron's question and pointed at the shackle, ball and chain that adorned her leg. Matron let out a sigh. "You do not shrug in response to my questions, young lady."

She turned to the hand at her side. "I would question what kind of operation you are running out here," she said curtly, "but the creature nursing broken ribs in the infirmary has already informed me! Unlock this one, now." The hand hustled to obey. While he was doing so Matron grabbed a collar and leash off the wall and fastened the collar around Isis' neck. She said nothing, simply turned on her heel and walked out of the stall. Isis hustled to follow, deeply curious about where this was going.

PART THREE

Paul worried about his relationships with the other hands, sometimes. He liked life on the ranch, liked the access to the stock, liked having his way with them. But he didn't like being cruel about it, and he especially didn't like the way some of the hands were thoughtlessly cruel, like not in a fun or kinky way, just mean. So Paul sometimes seemed a little standoffish, and he knew it.

He was thinking about this one day when he heard Terry, a hand he was friendly toward but not close with, ask the newest hand on the ranch if he had been to see the pig yet. The new hand hadn't, he said, in fact he had only heard the pig mentioned once or twice and he wasn't quite sure what the deal was.

Terry asked the new kid if he wanted to go visit the pig when their main shift was over, and when the new kid agreed Paul decided what the hell, and asked if he could join in as well. The more the merrier, Terry said, and the three of them made plans to meet at the back of the barn to head to see the pig.

Terry and the kid met Paul after work, each of them carrying a six pack of beer. On the walk there, Terry threw his arm around the new kid and gave him the full rundown on the pig. Yes, we were still talking about stock. No, the pig wasn't like the other stock. Yes, the pig had a name. No, nobody remembered what it was.

Paul pointed out that the Boss probably did, and related a rumor he had heard from a much older hand that the pig was the first ever stock, had been here when the Boss founded the ranch, and had only ended up as the pig when it started craving deeper and deeper treatment.

"The pig is an it," Paul said to the new kid. "Pig, The Pig, or it."

"Got it," the new hand said. As the three of them moved past the punishment barn they began to hear a mixture of squeals and moans and frustrated grunts and the tall hand began to laugh.

"What?" Paul asked.

"When was the last time you went to see the pig?" Terry asked in return.

"It's been a while," admitted Paul. The pig was a more intense experience than he was generally looking for, and he was one of the few hands willing to admit it.

"OK what you said about the Boss and the pig makes sense to me because about six months ago he went out to engineering and had them rig up this incredible piece and he put it in the pig's pen."

"What's the piece for?" asked the new hand.

"So it's two dildos on poles, right? And the back one swings out, and you can back the pig onto it so it goes up its ass, the pig being in chastity like the rest of the stock, and then there's a spring that lets you ease it back and into line for the other dildo."

He was motioning with his hands as he explained. "And then the thing clicks into place, the spring drives the pig forward, and the other dildo goes down its throat. And now it can't back off the throat dildo because the back one's up its ass, and they can't get the back one out of their ass because the throat one is as deep as it gets. So the pig is stuck, anal spit roast, until you let it out."