Monday, September 14, 2015

RUSTLERS-JUSTICE SWIFT AND FINAL

     Kyle Carter and I run the K and J cattle ranch. Our next-door neighbors are the 3 Big Bulls ranch. It’s run by 3 brothers, identical triplets Billy, Bobby and Brian. They’re each 6’2” and 220 lbs. They have blonde hair and light blue eyes.
                                                   Brian-Flexing For The Camera



Strong and fit they look strikingly handsome but they know how to strut their stuff and be quite intimidating when they feel the need. They’re 25 years old and have run the ranch for a year now. They inherited it when their parents died in a single-engine plane crash leaving the elder brothers in charge. There was an investigation of the crash, which was ruled suspicious but because they could find nothing implicating anyone the investigation was shelved. The life insurance was fairly substantial but after the inheritance taxes and other fees and charges, the boys barely managed to keep the ranch without having to sell it just to pay the government.


    There is a younger brother, Nate, who is 23, 6’0” and 210 lbs, smart and handsome with his light blonde hair and blue eyes. Being younger, he inherited nothing in the estate. Thus cut off he came to Kyle and I and applied for the job as foreman of our ranch. We both liked Nate a lot, and felt sorry that his being younger had cost him his inheritance. We hired him, treated him like a son, and even told him that if he did a good job running the ranch, that we would consider naming him as heir of our estate. 
    Everything went well for about a year. We watched with cautious satisfaction as Nate proved to be a good foreman, treating the hired hands well and being a fair boss.  Growing up under the shadow of three strong and often bullying big brothers that were used to getting their own way, he has learned to cope by making smart decisions that would often turn a bad situation around to his own benefit. His performance as foreman was admirable and all seemed to be going well.

    Then, one night, Kyle and I had just retired to our bedroom. All of a sudden, we heard our cattle in the barn crying out like they were being branded, and also voices. We keep a hidden microphone in there, to prevent cattle rustlers from striking. The microphone sends the sounds to our bedroom.

    I turned to Kyle, and said “That’s Nate in the barn. I’d recognize his voice anywhere.”

    “Yeah, John, you’re right! And that sounds like his brothers with him.” Kyle replied.

     We quickly grabbed our jeans and boots, and our gun belts, and called the bunkhouse.  We had 4 of our strongest hands meet us outside the bunkhouse.
Stepping outside into the bright light of the full moon we quietly gathered and moved toward the barn and the sounds of braying cattle. We quickly circled the barn, shutting off all avenues of escape. I grabbed a bullhorn, and said “Nate, you and your brothers come on out with your hands in the air. We’ve got the barn surrounded.” We waited about a minute without receiving a reply. I then had one of my hands sneak up near the open door, and throw a smoke bomb into the barn. Within 30 seconds, all four came out, hands in the air, and coughing almost nonstop. With the help of the four ranch hands, we quickly had them stripped naked and bound. Kyle and I went inside the barn, and found about a dozen head of our cattle, now sporting the BBB brand of the 3 Big Bulls ranch. We also found the branding iron itself red hot and ready for further use. 

     We walked back outside, and Kyle said, “Well, boys, looks like we caught ourselves some rustlers. Any of you boys have anything to say for yourselves, now’s the time.”

    The triplets kept quiet, but Nate said, “I don’t understand. How did you guys know we were in there? We planned this out for weeks. And I’ve run your ranch for a year! What was our mistake?”

    Kyle replied, “Nate, John and I loved you like a son, but we also knew your older brothers were trouble. Always throwing their weight around, bullying weaker folks, taking what they want.  We have to wonder just how much of an accident your folks’ plane crash was. They kept “finding” stray cattle with no brands on their ranch. So, unknown to you, John and I installed a hidden microphone in the hayloft. We heard the four of you tonight from the speakers in our bedroom. Well, boys, there’s only one way to deal with cattle rustlers! Guys, drape them on their bellies over their horses. Then tie their arms to their legs, under the horses.”

    Without a word, the hands tied all four brothers as Kyle had instructed. Then I told Jim, the senior hand of the bunch, to fetch our K and J branding iron.

    Bobby spoke up, and asked us, “What are you going to do? Re-brand our cattle with your ranch’s brand? That would make you rustlers too!”

    “No, Bobby” I replied. “We aren’t going to brand your cattle, we’re going to brand YOU!” At that, all four began screaming and struggling against their bonds, but my hands are experts at binding people, and there was no chance of escape. I went down the line, oldest to youngest, and branded each on the right ass cheek. You should have heard them screaming and cursing!

     I then had them taken off the horses, and laid out under the big oak tree, tender burned asses laying in the gravel and dirt they yelped with pain as each hit the ground. All four were very well endowed with huge, low hanging balls.

    I told them, “OK, you damn varmints, now at least one of you is going to be gelded, and one of you is going to DO the gelding.” 

     Billy said, “You’re insane! You can’t do that, and you sure as hell can’t make us do it!”

    I replied, “Billy, you four are going to draw straws. There is one short straw, one long straw, and two medium straws. The short straw gets gelded, and the long straw has to do it. And if the long straw refuses, he’ll be gelded as well. In that case, the two medium straws will do the gelding. Should all four refuse, then my ranch hands will geld the lot of you!”

    “Go to hell!” Bobby snarled as I offered the straws for him to choose. “I ain’t gonna draw any damn straw.”

    “Ok guys, we’ve got a volunteer here. Geld this one first.”

    “Aaaaa! Noooo! Wait!” he screamed as the men came toward his nutsack with the tool. “OK, OK, I’ll draw the damned thing.”

    At that, a look of resignation came across all four men. They drew straws, and Brian drew the short straw, while young Nate drew the long one. I gave the order to stake Brian to the ground, spreadeagled and face up. He fought like a mountain lion, but my men were too much for him. He turned his head towards Nate, and screamed “Nate, I’m your brother! You can’t do this! Please!!!”

    Nate replied, “Sorry, Brian, but you heard John. If I don’t do this, then I’ll lose my balls too. And I want to die as a man.” I then had Jim untie Nate’s hands, and hand him the gelding tool that we use on the bulls. Nate didn’t need any instructions on its use, as he had gelded many of my bulls. Jim took the precaution of tying a rope around Nate’s midsection just in case Nate tried to escape.
     Brian was crying his eyes out, and said to Nate between big, heaving sobs, “Please, Nate! Don’t do this! We can all die together as men!” but just then Nate put the tool around Brian’s balls, and with one motion turned his brother into a eunuch. Brian fainted, and I had Jake, another of my hands, immediately cauterize the wound. The last thing I wanted was Brian dying of blood loss. I wanted him fully alive and awake for what was coming next.

                                                Stringing up young rustler, Nate


We shortly revived Brian, who rejoined us by cursing and damning both Kyle and I and his brother, Nate. I ignored this and gave the order to lead the horses under the big oak tree, and its massive lower branch. Jeff and Joe, the other two hands, then climbed out on the branch and tied the four nooses. Each rope was only about as long as needed for the nooses to fall to where the brothers’ necks would be as they sat on the saddles. The plan was for them to have virtually no drop, so that they would slowly strangle to death. Now Kyle gave the order to have the brothers seated on their horses, and noosed. They struggled and fought but again were no match for the strength of the big ranch hands as they heisted the naked, squirming bodies up and planted their tender asses firmly in their saddles. Yelping with fear and pain they struggled to lift their freshly branded ass cheeks up off the saddles.   Finally all four sat in relative silence in a straight line under the branch with the already snug nooses forcing them to sit straight, tall and motionless softly whimpering with pain and fear.

    Kyle turned to the brothers and said, “Now’s the time to say your prayers, you Goddamned varmints!” We gave them about a minute while we watched in silence.

    Brian whimpered and cried in pain and humiliation having lost his manhood and knowing that he was going to die, he stared at his severed balls lying in the dirt where his own kid brother had dropped them.

    Billy’s eyes flashed with hate as he looked my way but as the minute drew to a close his face melted into a mask of fear with the certainty of what was about to happen to him.

    Bobby had clenched his eyes tightly shut. I could hear his sounds of unclear murmuring coming from his mouth, punctuated with sniffles and whimpers. Words shared only with God himself as he did his best to prepare for what he knew he deserved. Tears leaked from his closed eyes and streaked down his sweaty, dirty cheeks.

    Then, without warning, I rode up behind Nate’s horse, took my riding whip, and struck the horse hard. The horse immediately took off running, and Nate was left dangling from the tree. The noose cut off his scream, and he began kicking and struggling, trying to reach for the noose that was cutting short his young life. His brothers were screaming and crying, realizing that within minutes they too would be dancing with death on the end of their own nooses. As Nate’s lips became blue, his hips began gyrating wildly, and his dick became fully erect. Then, as we all watched, he shot a load of hot cum that landed about 10 feet away from his body. Following that, he shuddered once and was still, his limp body looking like a rag doll dangling from a careless child’s hand.

    The triplets were crying for their now dead little brother, but I gave a signal, and my ranch hands struck the backs of all three triplets horses, and the flaxen haired trio were now doing their own dance of death. Billy and Bobby strained and twisted as their air supply was choked off by the tight loop of rope. Straining for anything at all their backs arched in unison as their freshly erect cocks shuddered, bloated and shot cum farther than their little brother had, but Brian without his balls, and with the damage done to him by the hasty cauterization, couldn’t manage a decent erection. 

     His cock swelled with full vigor on one side but the other side couldn’t get the blood it needed to pump up to a straight, tall and proud boner and it curled painfully to the left until the head pressed tightly against the left side of it’s own shaft base. One of the cauterized vessels burst and shot spurts of blood that sprayed against his right thigh. As his body strained with a final burst of all out stress his back arched, he shuddered with muscle tearing strain in one last convulsion and his final load of semen pumped against the base of his shaft, flushing the few remaining sperm cells from his system in an agonizing rush of burning pain.   Amazed that he could shoot at all we watched as his wrenching and twisting body contorted with the final ordeal of pain and ecstasy, to fall limp in the deathly caress of the tight noose. Bobby's face turned a deep purple as the blood vessels bloated with the pressure of the rope started bursting the veins under his skin. One last shot of cum splattered against his brother Nate's leg as he jerked with one last spasm before losing consciousness.

                                          Brian-       Bobby-     Nate-      Billy



    The four brothers dangled from the branch for a while as the final twitches of their over stimulated bodies subsided and the swinging and twisting and swinging ropes settled to motionlessness. The last drops of cum slowly dripped from their wilting cocks and blood and cum slowly worked its way down Brian’s legs to his curled toes.

    “Let 'em hang there." I ordered as we watched the still bodies for a while longer.  Everybody watched the hanging bodies of the once handsome nicely hung brothers and it was obvious that all the hands were stimulated by the whole scene by the bulging shafts showing through their jeans.  Knowing that they had a few minutes, one by one they pulled out their stiff cocks and jacked themselves while watching the still bodies hang there in the moonlight. Kyle and I joined the circle jerk as feelings of regret and relief over the whole betrayal and hanging the thieving bastard quartet merged into final relief as we shot our loads.

    As the last man finished his sexual release, I ordered the men to grab each man by the waist and pull down with all their weight, stretching their necks until they snapped. The sickening pop and the bodies suddenly hanging closer to the ground assured that there was no spark of life left in any of them.

    “Lets clean up this mess.” I told the hands. “Get the backhoe, Jim.”

    We had the hands cut the rustlers down. They left their nooses on their necks. Their heads flopped and dangled at unnatural angles as they were held and lowered to the ground. We tossed the bodies in the backhoe bucket and picked up their clothes and other things and tossed them in with them.

    “What about those?” one of the men asked, pointing to Brian’s balls.

    “They belong to him, I suppose we should give them back to him.” I said picking them up. “Better yet...”
I reached in the bucket and turned Nate’s face out to where I could reach it.

    “It’s only fitting that this backstabbing bastard gets to keep his trophy.” I stuffed the huge balls into Nate’s mouth, making his cheeks bulge with the bloody nuts and getting nods of approval from the hands.

    We buried them in the cattle pasture. We figured their decaying corpses could help grow the grasses that would feed the cattle they tried to steal. The brothers were rumored to have gone to San Francisco for supplies, and were never heard of again. County Sheriff Deputy Brad Harding stopped by several times asking questions about the boys, their parents and whether we had had any trouble with them before they disappeared. We told him that Nate was an excellent employee up until the night he disappeared and we hardly ever saw the triplets but we knew that they couldn’t be trusted. The deputy had his suspicions about what had really happened but it seemed that there were more than enough people with plenty of good reasons to not have the brothers as neighbors. With all of the evidence he collected Brad officially concluded that the brothers had realized that they were about to be charged with their parent’s murder and multiple counts of grand larceny so they slipped out in the night.
We took a real shine to the handsome young deputy and invited him over whenever we were having a barbecue or just a lazy Sunday of beers and NASCAR. We have grown close... real close.

     Without the brothers to run their ranch, or any heirs to take it over, it was auctioned off for the taxes. Kyle and I were the high bidders, and added their spread to ours. Jim became the new foreman, and did a superb job, possibly because he saw firsthand the price of treachery.

By John Coldiani - Kyle Carver - Terry A Halberd

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