Page 11
Chapter 10
As the office boy carefully glued the flimsy tapes of paper, carrying the messasges to the yellow forms, the telegraph began to chatter briefly. He went to the machine and saw that a message was coming in from Twin Pines, a town some fifty miles east, addressed to Virgil Makepeace at the Mercantile. It was very short and read
HERE WITH DREW PURSUING ENQUIRIES stop BE BACK IN THREE DAYS stop TAKE CHAGE stop
signed BRADBURN US MARSHAL
Makepeace was a rich and infuential man and assigned to take over law enforcement in such a
contingency as this. The boy left the other messages, stuck the tape to a form and, putting it into ayellow envelope, hurried to the Mercantile.
Chapter 11
"Don't see that's any of your business, Walt." Viking said with a faint smile. "Git back to work, you can see all you want tomorrow when we've finished with him.
"Ahh come on boss, I jist want t o see his pecker, then I'll go." Corky grinned, he'd taken a liking to this very sexy man.
"Come on Viking, what's the harm? Let him stay."
"He can stay while I strip the bastard, but after that I want him out to keep an eye on the hands, I don't want them all piling in when things start gittin' noisy. Understood Walt?"
"Sure Boss."
Viking turned back to Bradburn and, opening the waistband of his levis, yanked them open to the crutch, sending buttons flying, and revealing the base of his cock. He dropped to one knee and, as the other two men moved closer to watch, tugged the levis down Bradburn's hairy thighs. Freed from it's confines the huge rigid cock sprang up and slapped the Marshal's hairy belly. Walt whistled. It was not only beautifully shaped, immensely thick and deeply flanged. It was gleaming with sweat and the big shiny glans oozed precum. As Walt stared, Viking took his knife from his belt and ripped and cut the tough denim from Bradburn's legs before flinging the torn levis into a corner. Hoping that he'd been forgotten, Walt stood quietly, as Viking rummaged among the branding irons, stakes and odd bits of farm implements. He pulled free a metal rod, some six feet long, the use for which was no longer known, and, yanking wide Bradburn's legs, roped his booted ankles to it. Walt felt his guts twist with lust as he looked at the spreadeagled Marshal, naked except for his boots and the big metal star, pinned to his bloody right nipple. Bearded, hard, hairy and muscular, he stood defiantly, his big drooling cock jutting out impressively. They all gawped in silence for a very long moment before Viking turned to Walt,"
Okay mister, you've had yer look, now git."
With a sigh, Walt turned to go. He pushed the barn doors to and dropped the latch before walking to the back of the barn and sitting again on his log. He picked up a piece of dirty tackle, looked at it for a moment, then, with a groan, tossed it back onto the tangled pile. Careful not to tear the paper thin denim, he unbuttoned his fly and eased out his hard cock.
"Now you're gonnas git the whippin' you've been asking for," Viking sneered, waving the heavy bullwhip on Bradburh's nose.
"Mouthing off again, you bastard, get on with it," the Marshal snarled, as his body began to shake. He knew now with utter certainty that this was what he'd always wanted. But what he was not sure of was if he could take it? Viking made no reply but brought the whip down hard scross the rippling muscular back. Bradburn gasped as a line of fire was drawn over his shoulders, then groaned as another burned across his ass. Excitement surged up, fever hot, as the lash bit into his back even harder and he groaned again.The pain was exquisite and he knew that he could take it, savour it, if he could keep a rein on the blazing excitement.
Viking swung the ther wehip hard, cutting fiery lines, diagonally, down Bradburn's back and across his hairy buttocks. Lust and excitement surged through him too, and as the Marshal began to grunt and buck, he was tempted to lash even harder. But he knew that the bullwhip could cut the flesh from Bradburn's backbone. The Mexicans would not take a badly maimed slave and his plan to deliver Bradburn into bondage and a life on pain and degradation would fail. He hardened his resolve, he'd get bis blood eventually.
Corky stood relishing the expression on Bradburn's pain etched face but when his head dropped back between his outstretched arms he moved around to watch the whip lashing his muscular back.
"Come on, give it to the bastard," he yelled and Viking lowered the whip.
"Why don't you make yourself useful."
"Huh.?"
"There's a stove over yonder and some kindlin'," Viking said, massaging his right biceps. Corky looked perplexed.
"Why, it ain't cold?"
"Light it bonehead, then look in that corner for a nice iron." Corky's face brightened,
"Jeez, you mean you're gonna...?"
"Yeah,"Viking replied and strode across to a cluttered shelf and lifted a small stone flagon by it's ring handle. Supporting it on his raised forearm he took a couple of swigs of the fiery spirit as Corky got the small iron stove lit. He took another swig and Corky called from the corner, holding up an iron,
"How about this 'n?"
"I guess it'll do, put it in the heat and come over here." Viking said, pulling a cheroot from a pack on the shelf and lighting it Corky joined him and as he took a swip from the flagon, Viking flung an arm around his shoulders.
"Reckon Virgil's got the telegram from Twin Pines," Corky asked?
"Sure, Pete rode down there yesterday," Viking replied exhaling smoke. "Relax he won't let us down. This donkey-dicked bastard will be out of the territory before he's missed." Corky put an arm around Viking's waist and studied the fiery welts across Bradburn's back and ass.
"We gonna brand him now?"
"Not yet Bonehead. See how I've hatched him right to left?"
"Yeah, looks kinda neat."
"Sure, when I've had me another couple of slugs, I gonna hatch 'im from left to right. Then you'll hear the bastard holler."
"Reckon we should gag him?"
"No, I want the whole fuckin' ranch to hear."
"This I wanna hear and I guess it gives the iron time to get hot."
"You're learnin' kid," Viking said with a smirk, and lifted the flagon again.
The first lash across the oozing welts on Bradburn's back was excruciating and he gave a yell of pain.
"Not so tough now are we Marshal," Viking sneered, swinging the whip again. "Let's hear you bawl like a baby."
The excitement surged up again and Bradburn wouldn't have known, even if his fevered mind had
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