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The Ranch Barn by BCW8

I’m Tom.  I work on a cattle ranch in Montana.  Most of the hands were men in their late twenties or early thirties, permanent workers like me.  In the summers, we’d take on maybe ten college kids as temporaries, both guys and girls. 

That summer, one of the girls was Katie.  She was twenty-one and she had auburn hair and green eyes and skin that freckled in the sun.  She wore cropped white tanks that bared her stomach as she worked with the horses.  She loved the horses.

Another one was Jennifer.  She was related to the ranch owner somehow, but she was no spoiled kid; she worked as hard as anyone.  She was twenty.  She wore her blonde hair spiky short.  She was as hot as Katie, and she flaunted it much more.  When she wasn’t working, she would tan on the ranch house terrace in a tiny black bikini. 

By the end of the summer, they hated each other, because they were both fucking me. 

They told me they wanted to fight each other.  I took care of the rest.

There’s a rodeo the third Sunday in late August in Helena.  The boss gives everyone a day off to go and they go because there is cheap beer.  Only the three of us stayed.  It was a stifling hot day.  About five miles from the main ranch buildings there is an old barn.  There’s no road to it and there’s not much in it now.  It’s basically just four walls and a roof with a little hay and some tools.  That was the point.  No one goes there.  The three of us rode there in silence.

Inside was like an oven.  We were all sweating inside thirty seconds.  They were wearing Levis and boots.  I noticed Jennifer wore a leather belt.  Katie had on one of her signature white tanks.  Jennifer wore a lightweight denim shirt.  They were both about 5’4”, 115.  Maybe Jennifer went 120.  Their hips and asses looked fantastic in low-riding jeans.  The sunlight angling in through the high windows lit them like movie stars in a fucking country-western music video.

I took off my shirt, partly because it was so fucking hot and partly to remind the girls why they were here.  They both eyed my chest hungrily while I talked.

“Rule One.  No one quits a ranch fight.  It goes until one of you can’t fight.  If you don’t want that, leave now.”  Neither of them budged an inch.

“Rule Two.  No limits.  It’s a fucking fight.  Do anything.  Use anything.”

“Rule Three.  Ranch fights between guys are shirtless.  Bare-chested.  I don’t see why this should be any different.”

“Fuck yeah,” said Jennifer.  She turned to face Katie as she unbuttoned her shirt and shrugged it off.  She wasn’t wearing a bra.  “Fight me with your tits out, bitch.”  Katie had hesitated a beat but wasn’t far behind.  Her red ponytail and her boobs bounced free as she peeled her tank and bra off together over her head.

Jesus Christ, two hot young topless girls in blue jeans and boots.  It doesn’t get better.  They were all girl but with lean muscle in their shoulders and arms and backs and with flat walls of abs.  By all girl I mean both of them were stacked.  Perfect natural 34Ds that rode high on their chests.   I am a titty man, I admit.  Katie had bigger nipples, broad pink cupolas.  Jen’s were light brown and smaller but stood even stiffer.  I paused for a lingering look at their undamaged chests.

“Last.  Gloves.”

“I wanna fight her bare-knuckled!”  Jennifer protested, but it wasn’t padded boxing gloves I pulled out of my saddle bag.  I had two pairs of leather work gloves.  Wrapped around each glove and leather-stitched into place was a double strand of barb wire.  On the palm side, the barbs were removed.  On the knuckles side, they glinted in the sun.

They both stared at me.  Breathing hard. 

“Last chance,” I said.  “Either of you can quit now, admit the other one is the better woman.”

Maybe ten seconds ticked by.  Then Katie reached for her gloves. 

Jen said “Fuck you, cxnt,” and took the second pair.

“One woman left standing,”  I said.  “Fight, bitches.”

They were both strong and athletic, but neither of them were experienced fighters.  The first minute was wild swings that mostly missed.  But they didn’t swing and duck at the same time, like you see in some girlfights, so some landed hard.   When they broke apart, Katie’s lower lip was cut and bleeding.  Jennifer had angry punctures on her stomach that stung with sweat

They had learned that, despite the look of the barb wire gloves, not every punch cut and not every cut was bad.  It gave them confidence.  The barbs are small, after all.  What they would learn was how to use the gloves to maximize them.

Jennifer figured it out first.  They circled, looking for openings.  Katie jabbed at her and she slipped it and as Katie’s fist went over her shoulder Jen bodied up on her in a clinch.  I heard the slap of their sweat-wet tits colliding.  Jen had her arms under Katie’s and her boots dug at the wood floor and she pushed the redhead back and into the wall.  They were cheek to cheek.  I watched Katie’s face.  Her teeth were clenched, her eyes closed.  Jen’s tits grinding into hers was hurting her.

Then Katie’s emerald eyes snapped wide open.  Panic glittered in them.  Jennifer had worked one hand between them.  Katie screamed and beat at the blonde’s back.  Jennifer braced her feet wider and bored in harder.  Her free hand slid up behind Katie’s shoulder and then hooked under her chin, forcing her head back.  She had her thigh between the redhead’s legs and used that leverage too, grinding her hip into Katie’s pussy and grinding Katie’s ass into the wall.

She was using the hand between them to shred Katie’s belly.  Then she twisted, shifted the clinch.  Instead of full breast-to-breast, she drilled her right tit into Katie’s right tit.  From my vantage, I saw Katie’s left tit pop free.  Jen pulled her hand out, pressed her knuckles into Katie’s tit, and twisted.  Katie screamed again, louder.

The redhead broke the clinch with a desperate effort.  Jennifer danced back, grinning gleefully.  The skin of Katie’s stomach was a hashtag of red.  The cuts weren’t deep but they bled and from the way she hunched over they hurt like fuck.  Her breast was worse, because Jennifer had jammed her barbs deep into it and then worked them.  She’d missed Katie’s nipple though and Katie had broken off before Jen could really rip her.  Still, blood was running from its undercurve down the front edge of Katie’s ribs,

“Did that hurt, slut?”  Jennifer said. 

Katie hit her in the face.  Jen staggered and Katie simply charged into her, slamming her tits into the blonde’s.  Jennifer flew backwards, landing hard on her back.  The half-second of rebound effect before her tits came back to position was interesting.  I unsnapped and unzipped my jeans and took out my cock.  The sweat on it was lubricant.

Katie put the boots to Jennifer.  The blonde tried to cover, tried to scuttle away, but the redhead kicked her in the ribs and ass and ribs again.  With Jen on her back again, Katie stomped her in the stomach and tried to stomp her throat but missed and hit her collarbone.  Jennifer curled on her side, sobbing for breath.  Katie kicked her arm out of the way and took careful aim.  Her bootheel crushed Jennifer’s tit against the floorboards.

Jen screamed like Lucifer himself had just rammed his big scaled cock into her ass.  I had to admit that this kind of brutality from girl-next-door-redhead Katie was a huge bonus I hadn’t counted on.  She dragged Jen up by her close-cropped hair and slung her against the wall.  But no quit in the blonde.  She bounced off the wall and pistoned her fist into Katie’s damaged tit.  In my mind I played it in slo-mo – Katie’s boob distorting around Jen’s fist, being driven up and into her sternum, the barbs cutting deep and then raking across her big nipple.  Sweet.  Katie dropped to her knees, hugging her arms to her chest.  Jen kicked her in her tan freckled belly.  There was about five inches between Katie’s belly button and the snap on her Levis and the steel toe of Jennifer boot hit her right in the middle of it. 

Jennifer leaned against the wall, cradling her own crushed tit, trying to catch air as Katie writhed on the floor in agony.  The impact of that kick had popped open her jeans snap, I noticed, starting a lovely vee that pointed down towards her pussy.  Katie’s pussy was clean-shaven and smooth, I knew.  I was still staring at that vee when Jen’s heel crashed down on it. 

Katie’s knees and head came up at either end of the fulcrum where her lower belly was speared.  Her back arched, shoulders back, tits up and apart on display.  Her face was pure pain.  She fell back to the floor.

“I’m gonna crack all your eggs, bitch,”  Jennifer’s voice was a snarl.  “I’m gonna slice your face and wreck your tits and pussy.  Tommy will never fuck you again.  No man will.”  About every fourth word, she stomped Katie’s belly again.

I thought the redhead was done and she probably would have been if Jen had kept at her.  But the brutal heat and the beating Katie had given her were catching up with the pure adrenaline pumping in her veins.  She wavered, then dropped to her knees next to her sobbing rival.  Her head and arms drooped.  She looked at me, sweat dripping from her face, mixed with blood from her mouth, onto her heaving tits.   I think she had forgotten why they were fighting.  The sight of my raging erection brought it back.

The blonde girl knee-walked the few feet to me.  She licked my slick shaft, from balls to tip.  The blood on her mouth made it even more erotic.  Her tits swayed.  The one Katie had stomped was swelling, visibly bigger than its sister already.  Both little brown nipples were engorged.  “What do you think, Tom?  Do you like watching me beat that whore?”  She took me in her mouth without waiting for an answer but I gave her an answer of sorts by gripping her short hair with both hands and driving my cock to the hilt in her mouth.  Her blue eyes rolled up at me as for a frenzied few seconds I just fucked her throat.

Then Katie’s hands knocked mine away and dragged Jen’s head back.  The redhead’s face was a mask of fury.  With both hands she drove Jen’s skull into the floor.

Jen was out cold.  I let Katie hit her twice, mindless punches to the side of her head, and then caught the redhead’s arms.  I didn’t want her to kill Jennifer, but I also wasn’t ready for this to be done.  “Wait there,” I told her.  She hissed at me.  I didn’t think I could get harder, but that made me throb.  In less than fifteen minutes these girls had gone primitive.  I’d overseen three other fights in this barn, all male on male.  None had been half this vicious.

I draped Jen’s arms over a stall door, displaying her.  Katie grinned wolfishly.  “Look at her fucking tit,” she said.  “Fucking bitch, there’s more where that came from.”  Jen’s breast was one big bruise, for sure, but so was Katie’s lower belly.  Her jeans zipper had worked open a little, so the vee was a bit wider, a bit deeper.   Blood from her slashed upper stomach trickled into it.  Her jeans rode an inch or two lower on her hips, but tight as they were they weren’t going any further.  Just low enough to tell me she wasn’t wearing panties.

I opened my canteen, took a drink.  Gave Katie one.  Tilted Jennifer’s head back and poured a little past her bloodied lips, then dribbled it cold on her tits.  She was coming around now.  She shook her head, trying to clear cobwebs.  Once her eyes focused, I spoke.

“One knockout for Katie.  Fight’s not over.”  I climbed over the side of the stall, and put my hands on the top of the door, on either side of Jennifer’s shoulders.  Her arms were behind my hands, pinned.  She took a deep breath.  From my angle over her shoulder her tits rose and fell.  “Katie gets a bonus.  Five body shots.”

Katie licked her lips.  “I can hit her in the tits?”

Jen spit at her.  “Fuck you, whore.”

“Anywhere but her head.”

Backed against the stall door, there was nowhere for the impact of the punches to go but through Jennifer’s lithe body.   I would’ve gone for her already-stomped breast, but I guess Katie liked symmetry.  She took her time, pumped a vicious shot into the other one.  The stall door rattled.  Jen’s head went back, her teeth clenched.  The glove did its damage. 

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

I let go and Jennifer pitched forward onto her hands and knees.  She had a matching pair now.   I stopped Katie with an upraised hand.

“Bonus is over.  Let her get up.”

It took a long couple of minutes, but Jen finally stood.

“Fight on,” I said.

They just stood face to face and slugged. No attempt at defense.  Every punch that landed pounded a spray of sweat and blood into the sunbeams.

Given she was surely concussed and her tits were both battered to hell, I give Jennifer credit.  She hurt Katie.  Hurt her pretty bad.  But the redhead hurt her worse.  Everytime one of them knocked the other down, I stepped between them until she got up again.  Jen knocked Katie down three times.  The redhead beat her down four times.  The last time, Jennifer couldn’t get up. 

“Gloves off, Katie,” I said. 

Her auburn hair wild and wet, her ponytail long since disintegrated, she tossed back her head and screamed in triumph.  She peeled off the gloves, the leather soft and dark with sweat and blood, and dropped them on the beaten blonde.  She came to me and that second when she wrapped her bare fingers around my cock sent a hard pulse of cum spurting on her stomach.  But she dug the fingers of her other hand under my balls and stopped any more.  Not for the first time I wondered how girls so young had such skills.  She rubbed her wet belly against the head of my cock.

“I fought her for you, Tom,” she said.  “I beat that whore.  I’m better than she is.”  God, battered as she was, she was absolutely gorgeous in victory. 

Over her shoulder, I saw Jennifer get to her knees.  I decided not to say anything. 

Jen’s jeans had come unsnapped now too. I knew her vee pointed to another vee of neatly trimmed soft blonde pubes.  Jen made it to her feet.  She dropped her gloves.  The same vee as Katie’s, the vee Katie was currently grinding against my cock.  She still had those fingers pressed hard under my balls or I surely would have cum then.

“You aren’t,” Jennifer said.  Her voice wasn’t steady.  “Not better. I’m still here, slut.”

Katie looked at her, then back at me.

“Fight’s not over, I guess,” I said.  That’s when Jennifer wrapped Katie’s own tank top around her throat and dragged her down.

“Let her go, Jen,” I said after Katie went limp. That had taken a couple of minutes. The redhead had struggled wildly but Jen had rode her back and choked her out. She jerked on the shirt twisted around Katie’s throat one last time and let her go.

Second knockout to Jennifer. One to one. I gave Jen the canteen and she drank greedily. When Katie came around, she swallowed a little water, with difficulty. Her windpipe was bruised. “Lucky I didn’t kill you, bitch,” Jennifer said to her.

When Katie had knocked out Jen, she’d gotten five free shots at the blonde’s body. Now it was Jen’s turn. From behind her, I pinned Katie’s arms across the stall door.

“She had the gloves,” Jen said.

“You can use your belt,”I said.

She liked that idea. She pulled it off. Her jeans had already popped open and this exposed a little more. I could see the top edge of her pussy hair.

“Now, slut,” Jen said. “I don’t think you can fucking take this.”

Five times, she whipped the leather strap into the redhead’s tits. Coming from her damaged throat, Katie’s screams were especially harsh. After the last lash, Jen put her hand around Katie’s throat and squeezed. “That felt good, bitch,” she said.

“Let go, Jen,” I said.

She didn’t. I had to knock her arm away.

Katie breathed in gasping sobs. Jennifer’s aim had been good. The belt had cut her nipples up bad.

“Fight on,” I said.

Katie didn’t move, even though I no longer held her.

Jen smiled, a bloody cruel smile. “Like I said. She couldn’t take it.”

“Fuck you, Jen,” Katie rasped. “I’m not done.”

Jennifer said to me, “Rule Two included ‘use anything,’ right?”

“Right,” I said. Jen’s boots clicked across the floor. I watched her ass and her naked back. She picked up a pitchfork from the corner and turned back.

I stepped between her and Katie. “Not the business end,” I said. I took it from the blonde girl, stuck in between the slats in the stall, and broke the handle just above the iron forks. I gave the handle back to Jennifer.

She rammed the butt end of it into Katie’s lower belly. Right into the spot she’d stomped over and over. Katie buckled forward onto her hands and knees. Jen slammed the fork handle across her lower back. An otherworldly sound of pain burst out of the redhead.

Jen hit her again. Katie’s arms stayed locked out, but her knees went out from under her and her hips dropped to the floor. Jen twirled the stick and drove the blunt end straight down into the base of Katie’s spine.

I didn’t think Katie would get up from that. In fact it crossed my mind that she might never get up from that. But believe it or not, she tried, getting her knees back under herself at least. Jen slid the handle under Katie’s chin, one hand on either side of her head, and dragged her head back. She lifted Katie’s torso, then jerked her up to her feet. With a move like some kind of fucking killer ballerina, Jen twisted and ducked under her own arm. Her wrists crossed behind her neck and behind Katie’s neck too as they stood back to back now. The solid wood of the handle was across Katie’s throat.

Slowly, Jennifer bent forward at the waist. Her ass pressed into Katie’s damaged back as the redhead came up on her toes. Katie’s back arched. The skin on her ribs pulled tight. Her feet lifted off the floor. Her lashed tits shuddered. Jennifer screamed with effort. Katie couldn’t scream.

Jennifer could only crucify her rival like that for a minute. It was enough. When she let go and Katie crashed to the floor, she had been unconscious already for maybe ten seconds, judging by when her arms went limp.

“Enough,” I said. Even I can only watch so much torture.

It took an hour and another canteen of water even for Jennifer to be able to walk to the horses. She sobbed in pain all the way back to the ranch house because every step her horse took jarred her battered, swollen tits. Katie couldn’t walk or ride. I carried her and put her on my horse in front of me and led her mount behind.

A few of the boys were back from Helena when we rode in.

“What the fuck, Tom?” one of them said.

I dismounted. He caught Katie as she fell sideways off the horse.

“Barn fight,” I said. “She may need a doctor.”

Jennifer half-slid, half-fell off her horse into my arms.

“Her too, it looks like,” said the hand.

Her arms around my neck, Jen pressed her aching tits into my chest. Even through her denim shirt I could feel heat baking off her. She kissed me deep.

“Doctor later,” she said. She put her cracked lips by my ear so only I heard the last. “First, fuck the winner.”

The summer season was over. We only needed the permanent hands. Jennifer came back to visit the family, rarely, but every time she did we fucked, until I married. Once or twice after that, too, but eventually the ranch sold and I didn’t see Jennifer again. We emailed occasionally over the next couple of years. She had a job, lived in Minneapolis. The last email she sent me she told me Katie had been in contact with her. That Katie wanted to fight her again.

“I think I’ll do it,” she wrote to me. “I just have to find a barn.”

The End

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