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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. He pointed to Slade. 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? 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. 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.

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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. The rope burned into her wrists as he wrapped them in tight coils.

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

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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.


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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. 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. 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. The manager slowly straightened back up. We got to let her go. If the police come looking, everyone knows she's been here. 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. The crowd booed. You win, you both go free, you lose, you get the same as her. Leave me alone! Just let her go! Brianna was wide eyed with fright. Now let us go! Slade nodded to the manager who looked down at his watch.

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. 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. 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.

And for being such good sports we're going to give them a couple of souvenirs. He now unfurled them to the crowd. Our little way of saying Thank you and Yee-haw! 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 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! But Delia wasn't done. Then a woman shouted. Tell you what, you ladies will never have to buy another drink in this place. 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. And if anyone took pictures or video of me.

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! It's in there somewhere. I have to hold my shirt down! 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? 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. Those bastards stole my cell! She caught the flashing lights in the side view mirror. 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.

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. 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.

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Tom Slade and Evelyn were waiting as the Camaro pulled up behind the building. Slade opened the trunk. 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. He nodded to Evelyn. She pulled a butterfly knife, whipped the blade open and held it to Brianna's throat. Now strip off that shirt. She threw it aside and stood completely naked, hands at her side, not trying to cover herself.

Bend down, touch the floor. Spread your legs. 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. 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.

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He pulled back on her hair and roughly groped her breasts. I bet you want a little more. You can never afford to be complacent or idle. There's always something you can do. 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. 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. 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.

Evelyn jerked back on Brianna's hair and brought up the knife. She closed her eyes and opened her mouth. 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. 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. Features detailed floral tooled and buck stitch on seat. Wood and fiberglass tree is light weight and well made to ensure the strength. Our standard shipping is for 48 Continental US Only.

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Additional Info: Please note that each product we carry is hand made, never machine made. Because our saddles are individually hand made, there may be minor cosmetic imperfections or blemishes here and there due to hand dying or hand oiling processes. These imperfections are rarely noticeable and typically disappear with conditioning and use.