Delia James slapped her hand against the steering wheel of her daddy's BMW.

“Redneck bastard!” she cried as the midnight black Dodge Ram took up two parking spots. There weren't many left. The lot got crowded on a Friday night.

She had to admit it was a beautiful truck. It was spotless and gleaming. It had chrome roll bars with a row of spotlights on top of the cab. The box had a locked deck covering it. The tires were large and wide with an aggressive off road tread. The vanity plate read “Slade1”. Bull balls hung from the chrome trailer hitch.

“Sorry, Brianna, I'm going to have to say something.”

“Delia, please. . . ,” her passenger said.

Delia had already opened the door and was slinging her long slender legs out of the car. She slammed the door behind her, smoothed the short denim skirt, and flipped her long blond hair over her shoulders as she walked up to the driver of the pickup.

He gave her a long look up and down as he stepped out of the truck.

“What can I do for you, Darlin'?

His eyes and the cut of his mouth told her exactly what he wanted to do for her. He was a tall, wide shouldered and narrow hipped drink of water, early forties, probably a football hero in his high school days, Delia thought. He wore a black Stetson cowboy hat, a plaid cowboy shirt with mother of pearl snaps and black Levi's. He had a day old growth of stubble and a light scar under his eye.

“Hey, Cowboy,” Delia said. “How about taking up just one parking spot?”

“Tell you what, honey,” he said. “You buy an American car and I'll let you park it next to me anytime.”

Many rebuttals sprang to Delia's mind, but none that wouldn't make her sound like the second year law student she was.

“You know, you're a real redneck jackass.” she said.

The man's girlfriend got out of the truck on the passenger side and walked around the front of the truck. She was a hard looking woman in her mid-thirties. She had teased, bottle blond hair and too much make-up. She wore skin tight leather pants and vest.

“Fuck off, city girl!” she said. Her eyes bored into Delia with a predatory gleam.

"I may live in the city now, but I grew up on a Texas ranch, bitch," Delia said. "And from where I stand you're just another redneck wannabe."

The woman started for Delia., The man grabbed her by the arm.

"Whoa there Evelyn!". He said. "You two ladies play nice."

With his other hand he dipped the corner of his cowboy hat to Delia. "Maybe we'll catch you later, Darlin'".

The woman laughed at that, making Delia wonder if she wasn't a little high on something already. “Catch you later, Darlin'” she repeated..

The couple walked on into the Long Branch.

The Long Branch Saloon was the hottest and wildest nightclub in the county. It was a large one story building near the county line out in the middle of nowhere. It had once been a biker bar, but the cowboys, both the urban and country varieties, had pretty much taken it over. Delia had never been because her boyfriend hated country music and suggested it was beneath them to go to a country bar. Now he was history and goddammit she was going country.

Delia got back in the car. “Fucking asshole redneck,” she said. “And did you check out the skank he's with? I might just have to kick her ass.”

“You're crazy,” Brianna said.

They found a parking spot in the dirt lot across the road. When Delia turned off the ignition Brianna reached across and took the keys from Delia's hand.

“Look, I know what's going to happen,” Brianna said. “You're going to get drunk and raise hell. So I'm just going to keep the keys, thank you very much.”

Brianna and Delia were best friends and shared a condo. Brianna was a pretty brunette, not model pretty like Delia, and not as confident and outgoing. Her hair was tied back in a pony tail, She had long bangs that set off her green flecked eyes. She wore a tank top rather than a cowboy shirt like Delia and her denim skirt was a darker shade, and not as short.

“Thanks Brianna. I'd like to say I'm not going to get that drunk, but fuck it, I am. But I hope you'll have a good time too.”

“Don't worry about me. Just watch your ass, I know there's guys gonna be.”

“Don't worry, Brianna,” Delia laughed, “Maybe I'll throw you a bone.”

“What's calf roping?” Brianna asked as they walked past the blaring neon sign towards the throbbing, brightly lit saloon.

“Calf roping?” Delia said, “That’s when you rope a calf.”

“No,” Brianna laughed, “On the sign. 'Bull riding and calf roping.'

“Beats the hell out of me”, Delia said “But I'll tell you what, if there's bulls to be rid I intend to ride 'em, and if there's calves to be roped, well, I'm just going to tie them little doggies up tight.”

The dance floor was crowded with cowboys and cowgirls line dancing or swinging their pardners round and round, depending on the song of the moment. Waitresses dressed in midriff baring shirts and daisy dukes thumped beer bottles down in front of customers and snatched the empties. Bartenders were dressed as Old West barkeeps . One had a waxed handlebar mustache that looked real. In other rooms were the pool tables and the mechanical bull. Through the thumping beat of the country music one could occasionally hear the click of the balls, or the jeers of onlookers as another would-be rodeo hero was thrown by the bull. Only the bouncers did not wear cowboy costumes. They were dressed simply in khaki slacks and T-shirts with the saloon logo. They were big, muscular, corn fed country boys who were more than willing to take on any drunken redneck or university football player who stepped out of line.

Delia and Brianna were able to occupy a table in a corner. A waitress came up to the table.

“What'll it be?”

“Bud light,” Delia said.

“Make that two,” Brianna said. “Um, Delia, I'm going to go freshen up. You want to come?”

“I'll hold the fort.”

“Okay, I'll get the next round,” Brianna said, and followed the waitress's pointing finger to the restrooms.

“Next round,” Delia snorted. She scanned the crowd, looking at the couples on the dance floor, people at the tables and booths, standing at the bar, talking and laughing. She saw several guys checking her out, but no one interested her just yet. There was lots of time to flirt. Delia decided she was going to cut a wide swath tonight. She was going to break a lot of hearts. None of these cowboys were going to get lucky with her tonight, but she was going to let them think so. Maybe she could get a fight started. A couple of testosterone OD'd, drunken males fighting over her. The idea made her smile. Maybe she could get a whole barroom brawl going. She imagined a class action suit initiated against her by the bruised and bloodied males of the Long Branch Saloon for “Breach of Promise.”

“I know what calf roping is,” Brianna said when she returned. “There's rules. They're posted outside the restrooms.”

The beers arrived. Dellia held up a finger to the waitress.

“Wait a minute.”

She took the beer bottle and emptied it in one long swallow. She put the empty back on the tray.

“Just keep them coming,” Delia told the waitress.

“Wow,” Brianna said. “You're serious.”

“So,” Delia said, her eyes scanning the crowd. “Calf roping contest.”

“Girls challenge guys. Guys cannot challenge girls.”

“Sounds actionable,” Delia said.

“So they go to the corral, which I guess is a little fenced in area with padding on the floor. He gets a length of rope. Basically, if he can hogtie her within three minutes he wins, if he can't, she wins.”

In spite of herself, this caught Delia's interest.

“Wins what?”

“Whatever they've agreed to. They have to announce the bet before they start. It can't be anything illegal.”

“Shit,” Delia said. “That's a lawyer's wet dream. If someone got hurt she could own this place.”

“I expect they have to sign release forms, but anyway, it's just for fun. That's what I hate about law. It's like we're looking out for any little discrepancy so we can sue. I mean if the parties agree to a calf roping contest they should be held to the terms of the agreement.” Brianna's smile died when she saw that Delia was not paying attention to her.

“Finish your beer,” Brianna said. “I'll get you another. And I promise no more lawyer talk.”

“This one's paid for,” the waitress said, putting the bottle of beer in front of Delia.

“Who's paying?” Delia asked.

“I am, Darlin',” the redneck asshole who'd stolen her parking place said. He swaggered up to the table.

“Hope you ladies found yourself a nice little parking spot. No hard feelings.”

He clinked his beer bottle to the one in Delia's hand.

Delia flushed in anger. She almost told him to fuck off but instead ran her tongue sloppily around the head of her beer bottle, and then pushed the neck deep into her mouth, tilted the bottle up, took a swallow and wiped her mouth, staring at him all the while.

His eyes gleamed. He gave Delia a hard smile.

“They say practice makes perfect,” he said. “How about we step out to my truck and find out?”

“Fuck off, Cowboy,” she said. “You'll never know what you're missing.”

His eyes narrowed. He looked slowly from Delia to Brianna, then winked at Delia.

“You ladies have a lovely evening, now, hear?” he said. “And watch out for them horny cowpokes.”

“Oh my God! Delia!” Brianna squealed as the redneck walked away. “You're so bad!”

Delia laughed, then belched. “I don't know which tasted better, the beer or the 'Fuck off'.”

“Delia, let's go,” Brianna said. “I really don't want to get involved in an ass kicking contest.”

“We have as much right to be here as anyone,” Delia said. “I want to do some drinking and dancing and bull riding, and I'm not going to let some asshole redneck run me off. Let's have another beer, then I'm going to rope me a cowboy.”

Delia and Brianna didn't have to buy another beer. But they did have to put up with the company of the buyers. Delia had played this game before, and she was quite expert. One beer bought you the time to chat her up while she drank it. And she could drink it fast or slow depending on if you were boring or funny, ugly or cute. But tonight, that's all it bought you. Delia was also good at letting men down easy. But not tonight. Try to stake her and she was going to run you off. Within a fairly short time there was a posse of bruised male egos on the lookout for an easier claim.

Delia was flirting with a cute guy at the bar when a hand smacked and then pinched her butt.

She spun around, furious, to stare into the familiar dark eyes and mocking grin of the man she thought of as the asshole redneck.

“Hey, Darlin,'” he said. “I 'd like to buy you another beer. Since I'm never going to know what I'm missing, I'd like to at least watch one more time.”

“Hey buddy. . .” the cute guy said, and then seeing the redneck, froze.

“Why don't you move along,” the redneck said to him, “before you get in over your head.”

“Is there a problem?” A bouncer said, coming up behind them.

The redneck turned slowly.

“Carl, how you doin', boy?”

“Oh, hey, how you doin', Mr. Slade?” the bouncer said.

“You behaving yourself?” Slade asked.

“Yes sir, trying to.”

“Hey!” Delia said. “This asshole just smacked me in the ass! He assaulted me! I want him thrown out of here!”

Slade gave Carl a shrug of the shoulders and a sideways grin.

“Just offering to buy the lady a beer.”

Carl took Delia's arm.

“Miss, You just settle down now or we'll have to ask you to leave.”

“I'm a law student,” Delia said. “And unless you throw that man out I will charge him with assault and I will sue you and this establishment and I will own you.”

Delia knew she'd slurred a lot of the words and she was about to repeat herself only louder for the big dumb prick when he interrupted.

“Look, Miss, I know you're feeling bulletproof right now, but you really, really don't want to fuck with Mr. Slade. Okay? That would be a bad idea. Now he didn't mean no harm so how about you get a beer on the house and then be on your way. Understand?”

Carl had a crushing grip on her elbow that hurt even through the beers she'd had.

“I'm telling you this for your own good.”

She tried to shake his arm off but he held her eyes for another few seconds and then let her go.

“Last beer,” he said. “Then you're out of here.”

The sense of humiliation and injustice overwhelmed Delia. She walked with as much dignity as she could muster to the women’s restroom. She stood in front of a sink and looked at herself in the mirror. She stared into her own furious eyes and smudged make-up.

“Motherfucker!” she screamed.

There were a few girls in the rest room primping and taking care of business. A couple jumped when when she screamed.

A voice from behind the closed booth of the toilet said,

“Amen Sister!”

The other few looked at her askance. They'd seen her flirting and were jealous of her perfect hair and splendid body.

Brianna came through the door. “What was that about?”

“You saw what he did. The son of a bitch. Slapped me on the ass like he owns me. Who the hell does he think he is?”

“Delia, let's go on. This isn't fun anymore.”

“He insulted me!” Delia shouted. “I won't stand for it!”

“Come on, Delia, let's go home, please don't be a mean drunk.”

“No,” Delia said. “There's something I got to do first.”

She dried her face and touched up her make-up. She peed while Brianna waited. Stepping out of the restroom she stood in front of the poster of the rules of the house and read carefully.

“Delia, what are you doing? Come on, I want to go home.”

“Then go home, bitch. I'll give you the keys.”

“I already have them, remember? You're drunk. Let's go.”

But Delia shook off Brianna's hand on her arm and forged her way through the crowd, with Brianna trying to keep up.

Delia stopped in front of Slade's booth.

He looked up at her with that arrogant, mocking grin.

“Hello Darlin,'” he said. “So you're tired of the boys and want to step up to the men.”

“I'm challenging you to a calf roping contest.” Delia said.

His friends at the booth whooped and burst out laughing.

“You won't be laughing when you hear the terms.” Delia said.

“Okay, what are the terms, Darlin'?”

Delia shook her head. “I'm not telling you til we get in the ring. I don't want you backing out.”

“Oh, I won't back out. “There's no back out in me."

He looked one of his friends at the end of the booth. “Hey Paco, go tell the manager we got us a calf roping contest.”

For the first time common sense broke through Delia's anger. She felt fear slide down into her guts. But fear is good, she told herself. It makes you alert and alive. She remembered her lessons from the Krav Maga classes. She looked like a pushover, she was beautiful and blond and just a little taller than the average for her sex. Men always underestimated her.

While he was busy admiring her ass, she was going to kick his.

The announcement of the calf roping contest was quickly smothered by the din of whoops and Yee-haws.

Slade stood up on his booth seat and identified himself and Delia as the opponents. The enthusiasm of the crowd ratcheted up another notch. Many of the guys had been shot down by her and the girls recognized her as the stunning flirt who'd been a little too busy for her own good.

The crowd flowed into the far recesses of the Long Branch elbowing and pushing to get prime spots near the “corral”, an open area with padding on the floor, surrounded by a padded barrier.

The manager had Slade and Delia sign release forms. He got her name and and asked her a few questions so he could introduce her in the ring.

“What's the terms?” he asked.

“We'll all know when we get in the ring,” Slade said.

The manager shrugged. “Well, good luck to you, young lady,” he said. “Good luck, Tom.”

Slade smiled, “Oh, I am feeling lucky tonight, Mike.”

A couple of bouncers led the way through the crowd. Slade and Delia stepped into the ring to cheers and applause and were directed to opposite corners by the manager.

“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen!” the manager shouted into the microphone, doing a fair impersonation of a famous boxing ring announcer. “Welcome to another rodeo event here at the Long Branch Saloon. This will be the calf roping contest. In this corner we have a pretty little filly from the big city who's left a string of broken hearts all across the great state of Texas. She kicks ass and takes no phone numbers, ladies and gentlemen a warm Long Branch welcome for Delia!”

The cheers and applause were not as enthusiastic as Delia expected. She'd thought the women at least would be more vocal. After all, weren't there songs about raucous, partying, redneck women?

“And in this corner a local boy, a man who's roped and tied many a young heifer, a man who's earned the nickname “Rawhide,” cause he ropes 'em, throws 'em and brands 'em, ladies and gentlemen I give you Tom Slade!”

Slade lifted a well muscled arm. The crowd cheered him.

“Now, Delia,” the manager said, “Since you're the challenger why don't you tell us what's at stake here?”

Delia came to the center of the ring with the manager.

"“Well, I'd never been here before, but I'd heard what a great time you could have here at the Long Branch so after I caught my peckerhead boyfriend cheating on me. . .” here she had to pause for the whoo-hoos of the women to die down, “I thought I'd come on out here and see for myself. Well anyway this guy pulls in front of me and takes up two parking places with his big decked out redneck truck. I asked him to move and he totally blew me off. And he's been nothing but a pain in the ass since I got here. So I thought it was time for some payback.”

There were some cheers and applause and a “You go girl!” that sounded like Brianna.

“So,” the manager said, “You two have a history. Now suppose you tell us the stakes.”

“If I win, and I will, I get a crowbar and fifteen minutes, and I get to work over his truck.”

Delia thought that would surely get a rise out of the crowd, she thought the women especially would love to see a redneck get his precious truck busted up by a woman. But except for a few isolated cheers, the room went quiet.

“I know Delia didn't tell Tom what the stakes were before they got in the ring.” the manager said. “And I got to tell you Delia, you do carry a grudge, don't you, Darlin'? So I think if Tom wants to turn down the contest, I think he should be able to.”

That met with boos from the crowd. Delia smiled. Maybe she had won them over.

Slade held up his hand. “This ain't my first rodeo and I've never backed out of one yet.”

The crowd cheered.

“You all know there's two sides to every story.” he continued. “It's true I don't want to take a chance getting my truck scratched up. Y’all understand that. But she leans on the horn and jumps out of her high end foreign car and starts calling me everything but a white boy. So yeah, I figured fuck her if she can't take a joke. The only thing I did to her inside the bar was buy her a beer to show her no hard feelings. You see where that got me. I didn't know she took this so personal. Well, Darlin', you want to play that game with me so here's my terms: if I win I get my leather belt and fifteen minutes to bust your spoiled city ass.”

The crowd went wild, filling the room with hoots and hollers.

“You all know the rules,” the manager continued. He pointed to Slade. “You get three feet of cotton rope. You can not hit, slap, kick, or headbutt. To do so will lead to immediate disqualification and forfeiture of the contest. You have three minutes to get the challenger on the ground, hogtied so she can't escape. If, in the opinion of the referee you have used unnecessary force at any time he will stop the match and you will forfeit. If you hogtie her and she escapes within the three minutes you lose. Do you understand?”

“Understood.”

He pointed to Delia. “For you, no holds barred. However, if you gouge out his eyes or rack him in the cajones so hard he spits them out his mouth, you will be considered a poor sport. If he doesn't get you hogtied within time allowed, or if you escape the hogtie within the time allowed, you win. Understood?”

Delia nodded.

He pointed to Slade. “Are you ready?”

Then to Delia. “Are you ready?”

“Then get it on!”

Slade approached her with a confident swagger, holding out the rope that he'd already tied a few loops into.

Then he rushed her. She was expecting it but was still surprised by his speed and quickness. Her punch glanced off his forehead, sending a stinger up her wrist and forearm, but her elbow connected with the side of his head. She spun out of his grasp and kicked low at the side of his knee. But God he was quick! Her kick didn't connect and he almost grabbed her ankle. She spun away again but he was right there rushing her. An uppercut connected, startling him, giving her an opening to grab an arm, twist, and trip him to the ground. He hit the mat and rolled. He came back up quickly looking a little worse for wear. His right eye was puffy where she'd caught him with the elbow. His nose was leaking a few drops of blood. His shirt was torn.

He pushed his index finger under his nose and checked it like it was an oil dipstick telling him he was a quart low. When he looked at her his eyes narrowed and he gave her a grin that held no humor.

The crowd was hooting and yelling louder now that blood had been drawn.

Slade circled her with exaggerated wariness, mocking her and making a few feints.

He rushed her again; but this time it was not a drunken, heedless rush. He fended off her strikes. She tried to kick again but he blocked it and tackled her around the waist. They went to the ground in a heap. He sat on top of her and tried to pin her arms while she fought like a wildcat underneath him. When she bit him on the arm he almost punched her; she nearly flinched from the fist she saw cocked above her, realizing in that same moment that now was her chance. She twisted violently to buck him off. But Slade anticipated the move and rose off her just enough for her momentum to flip her over on her stomach. As Delia flipped over he grabbed her right wrist, twisting it behind her. He pinned the wrist with his knee and reached for the other.

“No!” Delia shouted in despair and pain as he slowly twisted and hammer locked her arms behind her. The rope burned into her wrists as he wrapped them in tight coils. She squirmed onto her side.

“Now just you settle down, Darlin'” Slade said. “Like I said, this ain't my first rodeo.”

He was a bit breathless, and his voice was brittle with anger and excitement.

But at least he could catch his breath. Delia's chest heaved with the effort to pull more air in.

“Two minutes!” the manager shouted.

Did that mean two minutes left or they'd used two minutes? Delia had no idea, only that she was so exhausted she didn't think she could last another ten seconds.

Slade reached in front of her and tore open her shirt. Shirt buttons pattered on the mat.

“No, you bastard!” Delia cried as she found the strength to twist her body and kick out from under him. This did catch him off balance. She rolled away and almost made it to her feet.

He was on her again like a cat. He grabbed the hem of the short denim skirt and wrenched it down, tripping her and trapping her legs. Her bikini panties nearly came down with the skirt.

“No!” she screamed again as she fell face down. There was another cheer from the crowd as the onlookers caught sight of her round, firm ass. She almost got away. She twisted violently and kicked, kicking the skirt off entirely, catching Slade in the chest.

“One minute!”

God! But she was an eyeful the manager thought. Her shirt was open and one strap of her bra had come off her shoulder. She had a great rack, full and firm, that the bra emphasized as much as covered. Her panties were bunched at her crotch, showing some wispy, light blond pubic hair but concealing her slit. Her legs were long and well toned. The girl was a swimmer, the manager decided.

Slade grabbed her legs and worked his way down, flipping Delia on her stomach. He grabbed her bound wrists and pulled up on her ankles, throwing his leg over hers, forcing her ankles down on her thighs.

The manager glanced down at his watch and saw that time was up.

Slade wrapped the free end of the rope around the girl's ankles. He took up the slack in the rope to the cheers of the crowd, cinching Delia's ankles and wrists together. The manager shouted “Time!”

The crowd cheered and clapped.

But Slade didn't step away. Rather he tore her shirt completely off, then jerked apart the hooks and straps of Delia's bra and pulled it up over her breasts, and threw the scraps of clothes to the crowd.

The room was filled with the sound of men cheering and women hooting. Slade looked up at the crowd and smiled. Then he hooked his fingers in the waist of Delia's low slung panties and stripped them off. He wadded them up and flung them into the crowd as well.

Only then did Slade step away from the now nude and cruelly bound girl and raised a fist in victory.

“Let me go!” Delia cried in despair but her pleas were drowned out by rhythmic cheering as the crowd chanted, “Slade, Slade, Slade!”

There was nearly a stampede as people in the back of the crowd tried to force their way to the front to get a good look at the bound loser of the calf roping contest. No one had ever seen a contestant get stripped butt naked before. The bouncers were hard put to keep the crowd from getting out of hand.

The effects of the beer, the adrenalin rush and the exertion she'd gone through suddenly met in Delia's stomach and she heaved, vomiting helplessly on the mat.

The manager stepped into the ring and sopped up the goo with paper towels. Then he started untying Delia.

“Leave her,” Slade said.

The manager slowly straightened back up.

“We can't leave her like this, Tom, now you know that.”

“You should've made her lick up her own puke.”

“Tom, it ain't like she's some hooker from Juarez. We got to let her go. If the police come looking, everyone knows she's been here.” “Ahh,” he said impatiently, waving away the manager.

Slade squatted in front of Delia. Her eyes were wet with tears of humiliation and pain. A tendril of vomit hung from her mouth. Slade combed strands of her hair through his fingers.

“You gonna pay me what you owe?” he asked. “I believe I get to take my belt to your ass, and then you're going to give me a ride.”

“You fucking son of a bitch.” Delia said. “I'd rather die.”

“You owe me, Darlin', you lost fair and square.”

Brianna stepped into the ring.

“Alright, you've had your fun, now let her go!” she shouted.

The crowd booed. A girl yelled “Sit down, bitch!”

“Give her her clothes back and let her go!” Brianna said. “Or I'll call the police!”

There was another chorus of boos.

“Tell you what, Darlin',” Slade said, “How about double or nothin'?”

Brianna looked at Slade in alarm. “What?”

“Double or nothing! You win, you both go free, you lose, you get the same as her.”

“No way! Leave me alone! Just let her go!”

The crowd, hearing the offer, took up the cry of “Double or nothing!” There were cheers, laughter and applause.

Brianna was wide eyed with fright.

“Only the girl can challenge!” she cried. “And I'm not challenging! Now let us go!”

Evelyn, Slade's girlfriend, jumped into the ring.

“I'm a girl, and I'm challenging you!” she shouted. “Let's get it on!”

A length of rope was thrown to Evelyn. Slade nodded to the manager who looked down at his watch.

“Ready, set, go!” he shouted.

Brianna screamed and pleaded but put up only token resistance as Evelyn threw the young woman to the mat and methodically stripped her clothes off and bound her wrists to her ankles. Evelyn couldn't resist the final indignity of giving Brianna a resounding smack on the ass.

“You got a minute and a half, Darlin'!” the manager shouted to Brianna. “If you can get out of that you still win!”

Some watched as Brianna pleaded helplessly in the hogtie. Most eyes were on Delia, as she writhed on the mat. Her eyes were closed tightly, as though trying to shut out a nightmare. Her full lips were stretched into a grimace of pain and humiliation. Her hands and feet had turned a light shade of purple from the tightness of the bonds.

“Time!” the manager shouted.

Slade and Evelyn joined hands and holding them aloft, took a victory lap to cheers and applause.

The two girls were untied. They stood disheveled and sweaty in the classic pose of female modesty, one arm across the breasts, the other over the crotch.

“A great big Long Branch salute to our contestants!” the manager shouted into the microphone. And for being such good sports we're going to give them a couple of souvenirs.”

The manager had sent one of the employees for a couple of T-shirts. He now unfurled them to the crowd.

“A couple of extra large Long Branch T-shirts! Our little way of saying Thank you and Yee-haw!”

Slade pulled the large T-shirt over Delia. It was long enough that it nearly covered her sex. She pushed her arms through the short sleeves and stretched the bottom of the shirt down to cover herself. She pushed Slade away. Evelyn helped Brianna into hers.

“I'm going to sue all of you redneck bastards!” Delia screamed. “You won't get away with this! I'm going to the police! I'm charging you with assault, all of you! Let's see how you laugh and cheer when you're in fucking prison!”

Brianna took Delia's arm.

“Let's get out here,” she said.

But Delia wasn't done. “I want my clothes and my purse and my shoes!” she cried. “There'd better not be anything missing, or I'll charge you with theft as well!”

The crowd had grown quiet under Delia's tirade, perhaps a little chastened by the fact they could no longer pretend it was all in fun.

Then a woman shouted.

“You deserved it bitch!”

Another called out, “Time for your ass-whippin'!”

Slade took the microphone and held up his hand for silence. “Ain't going to be no ass-whippin',” he said. “Hey, this was just all in fun. No hard feelings.”

“That's right!',” the manager said, “It was all in good fun, and yeah, Tom might have got a little out of hand, but you two put on a great show. Tell you what, you ladies will never have to buy another drink in this place.”

Many in the crowd were no doubt disappointed they were not going to get to see Slade take his belt to that smoking hot bitch’s ass, but the majority, women and men, found this a satisfactory conclusion and cheered lustily. The men had got an unexpectedly good luck at a couple of good looking women, and the women in the crowd felt that these shameless flirts had got their due.

“Oh, fuck you too, you scumbag!” Delia screamed. “I'm going to own this place. And if anyone took pictures or video of me. . .” For a moment Delia thought she was going to throw up again. “That will be seized as evidence and you will be sued for invasion of privacy!”

“Come on, Delia, let's go,” Brianna pleaded.

Their purses and shoes were handed up, but their clothes had disappeared into the crowd.

The girls walked out of the Long Branch, Brianna holding both their purses. She was shorter, and unlike Delia, didn't have to keep the T-shirt stretched over her crotch and butt. A couple of bouncers escorted them out. The front door closed to the hoots ad jeers of the crowd inside.

Delia realized she had to pee quite badly but that she was just going to have to wait. She kept her head down and walked fast, conscious of her full breasts under the light t-shirt.

To be stripped and exposed like that, like a piece of meat! It was intolerable!

“Give me my cell!” she told Brianna.

“Here,” Brianna said. “Take you purse. It's in there somewhere.”

“I can't! I have to hold my shirt down!”

“Oh, Jesus, let's just go!”

“I'm going to call the police! I want to charge that asshole with assault! I'm going to sue everyone in there! And what am I going to do if pictures get out?”

They got to the car. It took Brianna a second to find the clicker but she got the doors unlocked and they jumped in.

Brianna peeled out of the parking lot, leaving a rooster tail of dust. She realized she was trembling. The road was blurry through her tears. It was several minutes before she thought to look at the speedometer. With a shock she realized she was going over eighty miles an hour. She forced herself to ease back on the accelerator as they flew down the featureless, flat road.

The smell of leather and the look of high class automotive engineering profoundly reassured Delia. Sitting in the bucket seat of the BMW, Delia felt rage well up in her. She was going to make this right. She was going to make them pay. She pawed through her purse, looking for her cell.

“It's not here! Those bastards stole my cell!” she said, looking up.

She caught the flashing lights in the side view mirror.

“Brianna.” she said.

“Oh shit!” Brianna said. “I see it!”

“Don't panic, maybe they're not after us.”

Brianna slowed and pulled over, hoping against hope that the car would pass them. It was an unmarked sports car, maybe a Camaro, she thought. Brianna recalled they used those to catch speeders.

It stayed right on their tail.

“Shit!” Brianna wailed, “I just want to go home!”

“It's okay!” Delia said. “I'm going to tell him that we were assaulted.”

Brianna pulled onto the shoulder, thumbed the switch to let the window roll down, killed the engine and put her hands at 10 and 2. Because that's what you're supposed to do when stopped by the police. Her eyes fastened on the rope marks on her wrists.

It wouldn't have mattered if Brianna hadn't been so cooperative. The men were on them too fast. Guns drawn, yelling “Get out of the car!” the men ran to either side of the BMW and jerked the young women out. They screamed in shock and pain as they were dragged out of the car, handcuffed, and thrown into the trunk of the Camaro.

One of the men jumped in the BMW and drove off. The other had already turned off the flashing lights. He pulled a Uey and headed back towards the Long Branch.

Tom Slade and Evelyn were waiting as the Camaro pulled up behind the building. Slade opened the trunk.

“You staying for the party?” he asked the driver.

“Oh, sure, boss, wouldn't miss it.”

“Come along ladies, do as you're told and you don’t get hurt.” Slade said.

Evelyn barked a laugh.

Slade pulled Delia out and punched her in the stomach, and dragged her by the hair into the building. Evelyn followed with Brianna. Slade and Evelyn hustled the two young women into a store room beneath the Long Branch. This was not just any store room, however. It was used, at various times, to store drugs, or guns, or occasionally, people. Very few knew of this store room. It was soundproof, and well concealed. You could not hear the loud music from the main floor upstairs, maybe just the faintest thump of the beat. Slade and Evelyn had put in some fixtures so they could use the room for their own special entertainment.

“You didn't really think I'd just let you go without paying what you owe me, now did you?” Slade asked.

He nodded to Evelyn. She pulled a butterfly knife, whipped the blade open and held it to Brianna's throat.

“As much as I'd like to play some more, Darlin', I really don't have time right now,” Slade said. “Do exactly what I tell you or your friend gets her throat slit like a slaughtered hog. Now strip off that shirt.”

Without a word Delia pulled the t-shirt over her head. She threw it aside and stood completely naked, hands at her side, not trying to cover herself.

“You got sand, I'll give you that,” Slade said. “You also got great tits. Bend down, touch the floor.”

Delia took in a deep breath, and trembling in spite of herself, did as he told her.

“You're not going to tell me I can't get away with this?” Slade asked. “You're not going to threaten to sue me? Spread your legs.”

“Don't do this.” Delia said, her voice quavering.

She heard Slade pull his trousers down. She took a deep, ragged breath and braced herself.

He thrust himself hard into her and grabbed her hair like the reins of a horse, pulling her hands off the floor.

He was large and he hurt. She cried out from the pain of the violent penetration. He wrenched her hair and slapped her ass again and again as he rocked her with his thrusts.

“Ride 'em Cowboy!” Evelyn cried.

Delia's cries of outrage and pain mixed with his grunts and mockery. He called her every obscene name he could think of. He bit her on her neck and shoulders as he as he neared climax . Delia shouted in disgust as she felt his warm spunk spurt into her vagina.

“Fuck!” he said. He pulled back on her hair and roughly groped her breasts.

“Did you like that cunt? Huh? I bet you want a little more.”

He pushed her to her knees and stepped in front of her.

“Now you're going to do me like you did that beer bottle.” he said.

Delia's father always used to tell her, “There's always something you can do. You can never afford to be complacent or idle. There's always something you can do.”

And he was a powerful and influential man. But he was wrong. Delia realized, staring up at Slade's cock smeared with his semen and her mucus and blood. Sometimes there was nothing you could do. Not with a knife to your best friend's throat.

She wiped the streaming tears from her face and took his cock in her mouth.

She licked and stroked until it had stiffened, then she tried not to gag as he rammed it in her throat. He didn't last too long this time.

“Lick it clean, you two-bit whore” he said.

When she'd finished him off Slade pushed her flat on her stomach.

He used a leather strap to bind her wrists. He buckled it tightly. He used another strap to draw her elbows together. Delia gasped at the strain in her shoulders, but didn't let herself plead with him.

Slade pushed her over on her side. He wrapped a length of coarse hemp rope around her waist and cinched it viciously tight. The running end he brought down her stomach and between her legs. He pushed her back on her stomach. Slade pulled the free end of the rope through her crotch, under the rope that went around her and pulled it deep between her labia.

“Oh God! Please!” Delia cried.

“At last, a little politeness.” Slade laughed.

He looped the running end around her waist rope in her back.

He used leather straps on her ankles and thighs just above her knees. Then he pulled Delia up by her hair and held a gag in front of her.

“Open up.”

Delia shook her head no.

“Cut her,” Slade said over his shoulder.

Evelyn jerked back on Brianna's hair and brought up the knife.

“No, no!” Delia gasped.

She closed her eyes and opened her mouth.

“Wider.”

She opened as wide as she could and felt a metal rim click on her top and bottom teeth.

“Wider you fucking cunt!”

Her blue eyes flew open in desperation as Slade pulled up on her hair and pushed down on the ring gag against her bottom teeth to force her jaw open so he could fully seat the gag. Delia gasped and groaned as her jaws were forced wide apart. Slade strapped the ring gag to her head. He reached into her mouth and pinched her tongue. He pulled her tongue through two narrow plates attached to the outside of the ring gag and tightened them down, trapping her tongue.

Delia's eyes blinked and watered. The rape had been disgusting and painful, but now he was going to another level. The first rule she had learned in self defense class was “Never let them tie you up.” Well, too late for that now. What else was he going to do to her?

Evelyn helped him secure Delia's wrists and ankles to an iron bar which was attached to a length of chain that hung from a pulley in the ceiling. Slowly, Slade ratcheted the chain through the pulley, lifting Delia into an agonizing bow, her stomach just brushing the cement floor, then off the floor entirely. He raised her to waist height. He bound a length of rawhide into her hair, and stretching her head back, tied it off to her big toes. Then, ratcheting the chain through the pulley again, he raised her to chest height.

Delia was twitching and gasping with the unendurable strain of her bondage. Tears and saliva leaked from her face and splattered on the floor.

But Slade still wasn't finished.

He took a couple of iron C-clamps that he'd specially prepared. The careful woodworker would have noted that the mating surfaces of the clamps had been grooved and roughened and would mar the surface of anything they clamped.

Especially nipples.

While Evelyn squeezed Delia's right breast, pinching the base of aureole so the nipple would stand out, Slade screwed down the heavy clamp, crushing the delicate bud.

Delia bucked and groaned in agony. Evelyn held the left breast as Slade applied the other clamp.

They stepped away to admire their handiwork.

Delia hung face down from the bar by her ankles and wrists, her head drawn back to look straight ahead, her eyes bright and watery with pain. Her grotesquely stretched breasts trembled with each agonized breath and with even the slightest movement of her body. The hemp rope corrugated the flesh of her waist, and disappeared into the blunt triangle of her sex. Grunts and groans issued from her gaping mouth. Her body had taken on a sheen of sweat. As they watched she lost control of her bladder. The urine soaked into the hemp and coursed down it, dripping a ragged line on the floor below.

Slade put his arm around Evelyn's waist.

“Now that's a hogtie,” he said.

Brianna started whining and pleading when the two turned to look at her.

“You can have Blondie,” Evelyn said. “I like this one. I like when they're a little shy.”

Brianna hung upside down, her legs splayed open by the spreader bar her ankles were strapped to. Her wrists had been drawn up behind her in strappado, bowing her torso. Her breasts stood out from her chest like firm purple fruit, the nipples swollen and engorged. A coarse hemp string had been wrapped tightly around the bases of her breasts, causing them to jut and discolor.

Evelyn worked an enormous dildo in and out of Brianna's pussy. Unimaginable grunts and squeals came from her.

“We got to get back to the party,” Slade said.

“Just one more little nibble,” Evelyn said, pushing the dildo deep within Brianna.

She crouched to Brianna's breasts. She cruelly twisted a nipple and then took as much of the distended flesh into her mouth as she could, biting and chewing and sucking. Brianna bucked and cried and grunted. Chains rattled as she twisted and writhed.

Slade jerked Evelyn up by her hair and threw her against the wall. His hands reached under her vest to grope the slightly pendulous breasts. He ground his erection against her leather clad crotch.

“Whoa, Cowboy,” she said. “You're frisky tonight.”

Tom Slade didn't usually restrain his impulses. But just now he thought about the cow ride.

“Yeah,” he said. “Later.”

Evelyn was disappointed and angry. She was no better than Slade at being put off. She looked at Delia hanging from the bar. Well, that was okay. These two bitches were going to pay.

“Just a sec, honey,” Evelyn said.

She selected a twenty five pound weight plate from a small stack of various sizes and gently placed it on Delia's lower back.

She stepped back and wiped her hands.

“Now THAT'S a hogtie,” she said.

The Long Branch Saloon closed at 1 a.m. By 1:30 the place had been cleared of customers and the myriad chores of closing down were in full swing. The Long Branch was a responsible member of the community, and demonstrated it by providing a taxi service to those customers too drunk to drive, whether those customers wanted it or not.. It was not unusual to see cars left in the parking lot after all the employees had gone. So no one would have noticed the nondescript car that Slade and Evelyn parked in the back lot when they returned to the Long Branch after making a show of leaving and driving off in the Dodge Ram.

They snuck back into the store room that they had turned into a hell for Brianna and Delia. The two young women hung exactly as they had been left only an hour and a half ago, but they were an eternity older.

Neither woman understood that such suffering could exist in the universe.

Slade took the weight plate off Delia's back, and the clamps from her nipples. Then watched her muscles spasm and twitch and listened as her throat uttered inarticulate sounds of agony as he roughly massaged her breasts, digging his thumbs into her deeply bruised and swollen nipples. He loosened the tongue plates and pulled the ring gag from Delia's mouth. Saliva spilled from her aching jaws.

“Please, please, no more,” she groaned.

“Oh Darlin',” we haven't got started good yet.”

Slade lowered her to the floor. He untied the string pulling her hair and toes, and unwrapped the waist rope and pulled the cord from between her labia. That earned him a sharp cry of pain from the helpless girl. He unbuckled the leather straps that bound her and let her lie on the cement. Slade knew she would not be able to move for some time, and that she would soon discover that there's only one thing worse than being bound as tightly as she was for as long as she was, and that was being unbound; for the agony of returning circulation was every bit as bad.

In the meantime Evelyn had lowered Brianna, and she too lay naked and sprawled on the cement floor.

“All right bitches, up and at 'em, the party's just getting started.”

Slade pulled his belt through the loops of his jeans, wrapped the buckle end around his hand, and then whipped Delia hard across her ass. The crack! of the belt echoed like a gunshot in the room. For a second Delia literally didn't know what had hit her. Then the pain of the stroke flared across her butt, a violent intense sting that made her gasp and grind her teeth. She writhed on the floor, grinding her breasts against the cement, magnifying her torment.

Slade struck her several more times, leaving wide red stripes across her butt and thighs.

“Stop! Stop! Please!” Delia cried. “I'll do what you want!”

“What I want is what you owe me, darlin'. Double or nothing, remember? Thirty minutes of this. Thirty minutes of me taking my belt to your ass, your tits and your cunt.”

He lashed her some more.

“But then, who's counting?” he said.

Evelyn had not been idle while Slade ministered to Delia. But she considered herself a modern girl, and preferred electricity.

She poked Brianna with a cattle prod. She poked her on the soles of her feet and up and down her back. She poked her in the ass, in the anus, in the perineum, in her vulva. Brianna screamed and flopped about, begging Evelyn to stop.

Eventually she did.

Now circulation was returning. Brianna and Delia both cried out as pins were driven into their hands and feet. And in Brianna's case, her breasts as well.

When Slade saw that the girls were regaining use of their hands and feet, he handcuffed their wrists in front of them. He checked his watch.

“I'm going to go up and see if their ready for us.” he said.

He returned with the all clear.

They pulled Brianna and Delia to their feet and escorted them up to the main floor of the Long Branch.

A small group of men were waiting. These were a select few of the associates and friends Slade had spent the evening with. Mike, the manager of the Long Branch was one, the driver of the Camaro, (the other man, who'd taken the BMW, was going to leave that car in a mall and would not be back in time), two thick set bullet headed men everyone called “the Twins,” though they weren't related, and a Hispanic man called Paco. Paco had been a gigolo, a drug runner, a coyote, and a pimp; but he'd moved up in his world and now owned a brothel across the border. He and Slade were old amigos. Unlike Slade, Paco was considered something of a wit. Like Slade he was utterly sociopathic. He used to direct the occasional good looking, single, untraceable girl from across the border towards Tom and Evelyn. He'd come to see Tom tonight because he had a line on such a woman, and had wanted to do some dealing. Now he thought maybe he wouldn't be making that deal, but at least he hadn't wasted a trip.

Not when his eyes wandered over Delia and Brianna.

Brianna kept her head down and wept brokenly, pleading with whoever might listen to please let them go.

There was still a spark of defiance in Delia. She looked at the men. They stared at her with hard, flat eyes. She stared back. It wasn't as though these men had lost the feelings of compassion or sympathy, it was as though those feelings had been bred out of them generations ago.

“You all know this is kidnapping and assault,” Delia said.

“And rape,” Paco said.

“And you know these are federal crimes,” Delia continued.

“We going to stand around here jawing all night?” Slade said. “Time to collect what's owed me.”

He threw a rope over a rafter in the ceiling. He pushed Delia underneath it and hooked a link tied to the rope to Delia's handcuffs. Then he stretched her up on her toes. He put another set of handcuffs around her ankles.

“Please don't do this,” Delia said. “I could be your daughter, or your sister.”

“Or my wife,” Paco said.

“Want them gagged?'” Slade asked.

Some did, some didn't. Slade compromised. He gagged Delia, but not Brianna.

In a moment Brianna was on her tiptoes also, her ankles shackled, her body stretched taut. She whimpered and pleaded.

“Still want to take a crowbar to my truck, bitch?” Slade asked, Delia, wrapping the belt around his hand.

Delia could only grunt when the first blow struck her. But Brianna screamed. The men agreed, they liked screams better.

Slade amd Evelyn whipped Delia and Brianna across their butts, their thighs, their backs, their breasts, bellies and hips. They covered the young women's bodies with welts and stripes. They used a variety of whips; a buggy whip, a cat, a cane. When there was no place left unmarked on their bodies, Slade lifted their ankles up so Evelyn could beat the soles of their feet with a pool cue.

Slade let his friends take their turns as well.

Paco took the belt in good humor. He had beaten many a woman and whipped a few, but only when they deserved it. He found no pleasure in it. Maybe a little pleasure, he admitted to himself. The little hombre does not lie, and the little hombre was standing up as Paco slapped the belt hard across Delia's perfect, bright red ass.

The women's faces were masks of agony as they twisted and writhed under the whipping. Sweat flew from their bodies as they desperately twisted to escape the lashing, only to have more stripes and welts burned into their bodies.

Slade called an end to the whipping when he judged the girls had had enough. This was not mercy, rather it was experience. A woman who was moribund from a vicious whipping could not properly enjoy the cow ride.

Slade let them down and poured water over them, and held smelling salts under their noses. He gave them water to drink and a little whiskey.

When he thought they were revived enough they were bound to either end of the mechanical bull.

They were tied facing each other, with their asses off the ends of the bull. Their ankles and knees were tied to either side of the bull, exposing their genitals. A strap tightened over their lower backs prevented any movement of their hips or butts.

“Mike,” Slade said, “Announce it.”

Mike picked up the microphone, and spoke into it as though it were on.

“Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the Long Branch Saloon Rodeo! Tonight's event is the cow riding contest. We are extremely fortunate to have a cow with an ass at both ends! This will be a single elimination tournament, the first cowboy to shoot his gun loses. So mount up and let's get it on.!”

“It's you and me, Paco,” Slade said. “Which end you want?”

Paco preferred dark haired girls. But where he was from there weren't many natural blondes. He slapped Delia on the ass.

“This one here, amigo.”

“I'm going to have to borrow your little pet there, Evelyn,” Slade said.

“Don't ride her too hard, baby, I got plans.” Evelyn said.

Paco thumbed open Delia's labia. He could see Slade had already been there.

“Amigo,” he said, “This is not a fair contest!”

“What's the matter Paco?” Slade asked.

“Her pussy's too tight!” Paco slapped himself in the head. “Ah, I know. She must be one of the gringas I haven't fucked yet!”

“Very funny, Paco.” Slade said. “What's the bet?”

“Bet, senor?”

“If I win,” Slade said, “You know what I win.”

“Ah yes, Tomas, and if I win, I win her.” Paco said, slapping Delia's ass again.

Slade frowned. “On one condition. She can't ever be let go, comprende?”

“Si, Senor, yo comprendo English very good.”

Slade frowned. He hated it when Paco talked like a wetback.

“All right then, let's mount up.” Slade threw him a packet of KY.

Paco stepped up on the small platform that would position his crotch on a level with Delia's ass. He bent down and spread open Delia's pussy and breathed in the scent of sex. He gave her slit a couple licks. He rubbed the silky hot globes of her blistered ass.

He dropped his trousers, as Slade had done already. Paco smeared the KY on his hard cock.

“Are you ready?”Mike called, pointing at Slade, getting a thumbs up.

Delia and Brianna were staring into each others eyes. Their eyes were dull and wet with pain and humiliation. And hopelessness. They knew what was coming.

“Are you ready?” he said, pointing at Paco. Paco flipped him a bird.

“One, two, three, mount up!”

Slade and Paco penetrated Brianna and Delia.

The two women tensed and closed their eyes as the cocks of the men slid deep within them. “Hold your hands up!” Mike called. “You drop your hands, you touch anything, you forfeit!”

Paco and Slade looked at each other and grinned.

“You gringos, you have some fun games!” Paco said.

Mike started the bull. It was the most expensive and responsive mechanical bull on the market. At its most difficult setting it would buck, twist, turn, and reverse almost as quickly and as violently as the real thing. At its most difficult setting a professional bull rider could not consistently stay on more than eight seconds.

At its easiest setting it was like a cow, not a bull, walking quietly through a gentle pasture of clover. There was some undulation, some back and forth motion, a hardly noticeable twisting side to side. But even a young child could ride at this setting for hours.

Paco and Slade stared at each other as the cunts of the naked girls slowly massaged their cocks.

Paco wanted to win. But this felt so good. From the days when his livelihood depended on the pleasure he gave to elderly, demanding, and rich foreign women, he had trained himself to last a long time. But this was a new game.

No, Paco, same old game, he told himself. But this felt so good. He looked down at the reddened flesh of the girl, the soft, round feminine hips, the bulges of her full, firm tetas squashed against the back of the mechanical bull.

No, Paco, he told himself, you'll not last long if you think like that.

He really wanted to win. But Holy Mother of God this felt good.

He looked back up to stare at Slade.

Slade's eyes were slitted with pleasure, a tight smile played at his mouth.

Paco closed his eyes.

Think about your wife, he thought.

At its second setting the cow loped over uneven ground. The back and forth motion and the undulations were more vigorous; there was some noticeable twisting and turning as the cow slowed to look over its shoulder and shake its coat, and then proceed to lope again.

Paco cursed Mike as he watched the girl's cunt slide up and down his full length, twisting, almost shuddering, and then sliding down to the root of his cock. How could that cabron be so good at this? He must have spent way too much time playing video games. Paco's hands were clenched in fists, and he thought desperately of his second wife's mother.

The third setting is when the cow is startled, perhaps by a hot wire bite of a horsefly. She kicks, and runs stiff legged over hard, rutted ground.

Paco and Delia gasped in tandem; one with pleasure, the other with pain, as his cock slammed into her cervix again and again.

Paco imagined the Hoover dam; millions and millions of tons of concrete holding back what was once a river. His second mother in law and his third wife berating him from the top of the dam. The pressure was building, a solid ball of hot energy, rolling at the very root of his manhood.

Cracks were appearing in the dam. He looked down at Delia's cunt; turning, twisting, impaling itself on his manhood. With the pressure of millions of tons of pleasure, the dam was cracking. He couldn't hold it anymore as the hot energy ball rolled enormous and irresistible down the shaft of his cock.

He almost didn't hear his opponent bellow as Slade emptied himself into Brianna.

“Fucking cunt!” Slade roared, and slapped Brianna's butt with the flat of his hand. Slade pulled himself out, spilling seed, and slapped her ass with heavy strokes.

“Oh, you fucking cunt!” he yelled again as Brianna began to wail at the pain.

Paco came hard, laughing uproariously at the glorious release and the fact that he'd won. The other men were laughing too, and clapping.

“Nice ride, Paco!”

Evelyn gave Slade a look of disgust.

“You're getting old.” she said.

“Who's next?” Mike asked.

The twins stepped forward.

“I call blonde.” one of them, Darryl, said.

<>“Fuck you,” the other man said. His friends called him Roach. He stepped up to Brianna.

Darryl looked down at Delia's splayed ass.

“Tell you what, Roach, let's cornhole them.”

“You're on.”

The men smeared KY on their rampant cocks. At the words “Mount up!” they drove their cocks into the women's assholes. It took several violent thrusts from each to fully “mount.”

Brianna and Delia screamed in protest and pain at having their assholes stuffed.

Mike started the cow walking. Delia and Brianna gazed dully into each others eyes.

Darryl and Roach did not have a long ride, but it was a painful one for the two women. Darryl won.

“Shit,” he said, “We didn't bet.”

“I bet the senoritas don't shit without cumming for a week,” Paco said.

The driver and Mike paired up. This time the cow was motionless. Mike didn't trust anyone else with the controls.

Evelyn was not happy. She was getting hornier and hornier watching the two city bitches suffer. She envied all the cock they were getting.

“Slade,” she said, “It's my turn. Do me.”

“Sorry baby” Slade said. “I got to go double or nothing with Paco.”

“You can't do that,” Evelyn said. “The bitch belongs to me.”

“Senor?” Paco said, hearing his name.

“Double or nothing, Paco, if you've got it in you.”

“Sons of bitches!” Evelyn cried.

“No problema, Senora,” Paco said. “Tomas, you take your woman and I'll take mine. Put Evelyn on the bull.”

“Fuckin' A, Paco,” Evelyn said.

“One more thing,” Paco said. “We change the rules just a leetle.”

He held up his thumb and forefinger, squinting through the opening. “Okay, what?” Slade asked.

“First man to make his woman come wins.”

Evelyn grinned. “You're on, you wetback motherfucker” she said fondly.

They removed Brianna from the bull and cuffed her standing on her toes. Evelyn squirmed out of her leather pants and laid down at the end of the bull, face up. They arranged a couple of stirrups for Evelyn to put her feet in and a strap to hold on to.

Paco didn't trust Evelyn not to fake it so he made the rule that the twins had to judge if the woman was having an orgasm.

“Don't listen to what she says,” Paco said. “Look at her face. Her face and chest will flush, her eyes will go all dreamy. She'll crinkle her eyes, she'll bite her lip.”

“Sure, we know all that,” Darryl said.

“How can you know that if you've never seen it?'

“Fuck you.” Darryl said.

“She can fake everything but the flush. Watch for that, amigos,” Paco said. He smiled and slapped Darryl on the shoulder.

Paco knew better than to bet against the house, but he knew Slade so he didn't have much choice. The odds were against him; still, he was going to do what he could to tilt those odds. It helped that the Twins didn't work directly for Slade, but he needed more of an edge than that.

Paco released Delia from the bull and gently helped her to her feet. He draped his jacket over her shoulders and held a bottle of water to her lips. He'd spiked the bottle with ecstasy and a narcotic . He tipped it up and let her drink it all. Since she couldn't have had much to eat, and had drunk little but alcohol, he hoped the drugs would take effect quickly. He used another water bottle to wash her gently between the legs, and patted her dry with a bar towel.

“I'm here to save you,” he whispered. “You and your friend. I'm an undercover agent and I've made a bet with that bad man. If I win you and her go free, understand? I won't hurt you. Trust me. Let yourself go, give yourself to me. It's the only way.”

Delia looked through a haze of pain into the man's dark brown eyes and saw compassion and empathy. She had been so wrong about him. Of course—he couldn't give himself away. He was risking everything trusting her. She let him lift her onto the bull, wincing as she laid back. Sometimes you could do something.

She opened her legs and tried to imagine she was welcoming a lover. It was the only way.

The bull started in motion. Paco had made another condition that for this round it would stay at its lowest setting. He knew Delia was much too sore to fuck. Vigorous motion would only hurt her. He concentrated on gently stroking and kissing her stomach and her thighs, letting his tongue trail down from her belly button to her groin. He did not insinuate his tongue into the folds of her sex, not yet. She was still distracted by pain. He kept stroking her and kissing her.

Meanwhile at the other end of the bull Slade and Evelyn were going at it.

“Fuck me baby!” Evelyn screamed, “Fuck me! Fuck me like you hate me!”

She was nearly screaming with frustration. The bull was moving too slowly, too gently. It was much too slow a rhythm, and Slade was barely able to maintain an erection. He was simply out of his depth, trying to pleasure a woman.

“Fuck!” Evelyn cried when Slade lost his hard on. “Lick me, goddammit! Get down on me!”

Any other time Slade would never have let her talk to him like this. Perhaps if he'd slapped her, or punched her, things would have followed a more normal course for them. Perhaps they would have won, but they were both too intent on winning.

“Oh yeah, that feels good baby, oh yeah, I'm going to come baby!” Evelyn cried.

The twins looked at each other and rolled their eyes. She was as convincing as a bad actress in a porn flick.

Paco could feel the tension leave Delia's body as the drugs took hold. He lightly brushed his thumbs over her exquisitely sensitive nipples, and she responded with a low moan. Now his tongue found the folds of her sex, and wiggled inside. He teased her clitoris with the tip of his tongue and backed out, kissing the insides of her thighs. He licked her inner labia and held his tongue, warm and moist, over her clit.

He felt her sigh.

He became a bit more vigorous, the tongue flicked and licked at her sex lips and clit. He smeared some KY on his finger and oh so gently pushed it into her, seeking that small nexus of nerves in her vaginal wall called the G spot.

She moaned again. Her hands clenched the ropes that earlier had pinned her to the bull. He spread open the petals of her sex with his free hand and began earnestly licking and sucking at her clit. Delia thrashed on the bull.

“Oh god!” she cried. “Yes, yes!”

She lifted herself up and scootched closer to Paco's mouth. Her eyes had a dreamy, desperate intensity.

She hooked her ankles behind Paco's head, as though trying to draw his tongue deeper into her.

Waves of pleasure overrode the welts and the bruises.

“Yes, yes, yes, oh my god yes!” she screamed.

The twins noted the flush.

“We have a winner!” they cried.

Slade pulled his head out of Evelyn's crotch and Evelyn abruptly stopped moaning and looked over her shoulder at Delia.

Delia was lying back, her thighs and arms wrapped around Paco's head, her eyes clenched shut. She grunted with the spasms that shook her. Paco untangled himself from her, and gave her an amused grin and a wink.

“How the fuck did you do that?” Slade said.

“Women are like horses,” Paco said, though he'd never been on a horse in his life. “You either break them or win their trust . . .”

He shrugged. “I did both. Double or nothing.”

Paco smuggled the two girls to his brothel in Mexico, but he didn't keep them long. Both Delia's and Brianna's families were rich and their fathers influential and well connected. The heat they brought down was just too intense for the leader of the cartel who called the shots for Paco and Slade. Of course he was well aware of Slade's activitiess, and wouldn't have cared if Slade had compromised the Long Branch by taking two well connected girls. He decided to cut his losses. Paco, Slade, Evelyn and Mike, the manager at the Long Branch, wound up occupying holes in the desert that had been reserved for Brianna and Delia.

The two young women were released without further physical abuse near a police station, and were quickly and quietly sent home.

Brianna and Delia drifted apart. Brianna could not look Delia in the eyes without remembering their time on the bull. Brianna never fully recovered from the emotional and psychological trauma of her experience. She never went back to law school and eventually married a lawyer and became an insurance adjuster.

Delia graduated magna cum laude in her law class, and within a few years became a fearless and relentless prosecutor of crime. Delia lived in a house on the family ranch. Her parents helped her raise her child, a boy she named Tom.

Tom was wild and fearless but a good hearted kid who ultimately became a world class rodeo rider. When he was interviewed he always said it was his destiny, and not because he grew up on a ranch.