Captured by the Saddle Queens

Three women on horseback run me down, lasso and capture me, tie me up, drag me away, and force me to service them orally as well as by pegging me.

The sun burned high overhead as I stumbled through the canyon, dust caking my lips. I’d thought I was alone—until the thunder of hooves shredded the silence. Three women rode hard, their leather-clad thighs gripping their mounts with effortless control. The leader—dark hair whipping behind her like a banner—let out a sharp whistle. Before I could bolt, the rope lashed out, snaring my arms to my sides in one brutal loop. I hit the dirt hard, coughing as the second rider dismounted, her boots kicking up dust. "Found our stray," she murmured, yanking the rope tighter. The third woman slid from her saddle, rolling her shoulders before crouching beside me. Her fingers dug into my jaw, forcing my mouth open as she leaned in, her breath hot. "You’re going to work for every inch of air you get from now on." The first rope tightened around my wrists behind my back. They dragged me to the nearest tree, stripping me bare with quick, ruthless efficiency. The tallest one unbuckled her belt, the leather strap whispering against her hip. "Open up," she ordered, her boot planted on my chest. "Unless you'd rather take it the other way first?" I didn’t get to choose. The pressure between my thighs told me that much.

The boot on my chest pressed harder as her belt clattered to the dirt. The other two circled behind me—one twisting fingers into my hair, the other yanking my hips back. "Guess we start both ways at once," the tallest one smirked, stepping closer. A rough hand shoved my head forward, forcing my mouth onto her. Salt and leather flooded my tongue as she rocked her hips, holding me in place. Behind me, a slick sound—fingers working me open—then the blunt pressure of something harder. I groaned around the woman in my mouth, my body tensing as she thrust into me with a sharp, relentless rhythm. One of them laughed low in her throat, nails digging into my ass as she controlled the pace. "Fuck, he's tight," the one behind me gritted out, her hips snapping forward in a way that made my vision blur. The woman in my mouth tugged my hair, her thighs trembling. "Swallow it all," she ordered, her voice ragged. "Or you'll take twice as much next time." I had no choice—only the heat, the stretch, their hands everywhere.

The tallest woman pulled out of my mouth with a wet pop, her fingers still tight in my hair. Her breath came fast as she looked down at me, her lips curling. “Good boy.” Behind me, the other rider’s thrusts turned punishing, each snap of her hips driving the thick strap deeper, the leather harness creaking with every brutal push. The third woman—the one who’d been silent—finally stepped in, crouching beside me. Her fingers traced my jaw, smearing spit and sweat as she tilted my face toward hers. “You think you’ve had enough yet?” she murmured, her thumb pressing against my bottom lip. I didn’t get a chance to answer. The one behind me gripped my hips hard, slamming home one last time before pulling out abruptly. “Flip him,” she ordered. Hands rolled me onto my back, the rough ground biting into my skin. The tallest woman straddled my face without hesitation, her thighs squeezing my head as she lowered herself onto my tongue again. The second rider dragged my legs up, her fingers digging into the backs of my knees. I felt the tip of the strap press against me—slick with oil now—before she sheathed herself inside in one relentless thrust. The third woman watched, her fingers trailing over her own belt buckle. “Don’t stop,” she said, voice low. “Not until we’re done.” The pace didn’t slow—only deepened.

The woman above me ground down hard, her thighs trembling as she rocked against my tongue. Every gasp she made was muffled by the relentless rhythm of the strap driving into me, the other rider's grip iron-tight on my hips. The third woman finally unbuckled her belt, the leather slipping free with a slow, deliberate hiss. "Hold his wrists," she ordered, and the one fucking me reached forward, pinning my arms above my head. The silent woman knelt between my legs, her fingers wrapping around the base of the strap buried inside me. With a sharp twist, she pulled it free, replacing it with the thick press of her own cock, slick and unrelenting as she pushed in. I arched off the ground, my throat vibrating around the woman riding my face as the new stretch burned. The silent one set a brutal pace immediately, her hips slamming forward with a force that punched the air from my lungs. The rider above me tightened her thighs, her fingers twisting in my hair as she came, hot and sudden, against my mouth. "Again," she panted, grinding down harder, not letting me breathe, not letting me think—just taking. The woman between my legs smirked, her fingers digging into my thighs as she fucked me deeper, her pace unrelenting. "Bet he can't even feel his legs anymore," she mused, her voice rough. She wasn’t wrong. The world narrowed to heat, pressure, and the raw, unyielding grip of their hands keeping me exactly where they wanted.

The woman above me finally lifted her hips, letting me gasp for air—but the relief was short-lived. Before I could even swallow, her hand wrapped around my jaw, tilting my head back as the third rider pressed the tip of her cock against my lips. "Open," she commanded, her voice dark with promise. I obeyed, and she pushed in slowly, the stretch of my lips almost as punishing as the relentless thrusts between my legs. The second rider leaned down, biting my nipple as she pinned my wrists harder, her breath hot against my skin. "Take it all," she growled. "Every fucking inch." The woman in my mouth obliged, driving deeper until my throat flexed around her, every ragged breath I managed only making her groan in approval. The one beneath me never slowed, her hips pistoning with ruthless precision, the slap of skin echoing in the dim light. Then she stilled—just for a second—before dragging me up by the hips, flipping me onto my knees like I weighed nothing. Hands shoved my shoulders down, my ass in the air, and I heard the slick sound of her spitting between my cheeks before she slammed back in. The first woman laughed, her fingers tangling in my hair again as she guided her cock back into my mouth. "Keep up," she murmured, thrusting hard. And I did. Because they didn’t give me a choice.

The sharp sound of leather slicing through the air made my back tense before I even felt it—the first strike landed just below my shoulder blades, hot and stinging. A gasp ripped from my throat, muffled around the cock filling my mouth. "Better," the rider behind me purred, landing another lash lower down, the leather biting into already sensitive skin just as she slammed her hips forward, driving deeper. The pain arced through me, sharp and bright, blending with the relentless thrusts until I couldn’t tell where one sensation ended and the other began. The woman in front of me tightened her grip in my hair, grinding against my tongue as the whip cracked again. "Count them," she ordered, her voice rough. "One," I choked out when she let me breathe, only for the next strike to steal the word before I could finish. The rider behind me laughed, her rhythm never faltering, her fingers digging into my hips hard enough to bruise. The silent one stepped closer, running her fingers over the fresh welts before delivering her own blow—lower, harder—making my muscles jerk around the cock buried inside me. "Again," she murmured. "T-two," I managed, my voice ragged. The whip landed a third time, just as the woman behind me hit a brutal angle, her moan mingling with my strangled groan. The silent one leaned down, her breath hot on my ear. "Good. Now beg for the next one."

The word clawed its way up my throat—bruised, raw, but desperate. "Please," I gasped, my voice breaking as the cock in my mouth slid deeper, cutting off the rest. The woman above me smirked, her fingers tightening in my hair, pulling just enough to make my scalp burn. The whip cracked again, splitting the air before splitting skin. Fire licked across my back, and I arched, crying out around the intrusion between my lips. The rider behind me hissed in pleasure, her hips snapping forward, driving me harder onto her cock with each punishing thrust. "Louder," she commanded, her breath ragged. "F-four," I choked, saliva dripping down my chin as the woman fucking my face finally let me breathe. The silent one traced the fresh welts, her nails scraping just enough to make me shudder before she raised the whip again. "Again," the rider beneath me growled, her fingers digging into my ass, spreading me wider. "Beg for it properly." "Please—" My voice cracked as the leather bit into me, the pain flaring white-hot. "Please, give me another." The silent one exhaled, low and satisfied, before delivering the fifth strike. The woman in my mouth moaned, her hips jerking forward, and the one behind me rewarded my obedience with a brutal pace, her cock dragging against every aching, oversensitive inch inside me. The room filled with the sound of skin on skin, my ragged pleas, their murmured praise—until the only thing left was surrender.

The silent one pressed closer, her body flush against my welted back. Her lips brushed my ear as she murmured, “Six.” The whip landed with precision—low, right where my ass met my thighs. My entire body jerked, the pain sparking through me like lightning, but the woman behind me didn’t slow. She gripped my hips tighter, driving herself deeper, her breath coming in rough pants as she rode the way my muscles clenched around her. The one in front of me yanked my head back, her cock slipping free for just a second before she shoved it back between my lips, the tip hitting the back of my throat. “Swallow,” she ordered, and I did, my tongue working desperately as she fucked my mouth in time with the other’s thrusts. The whip cracked again—seven—landing right over the first stripe, the pain flaring hotter. The silent one’s fingers trailed down my spine, pressing into a fresh welt, making me whimper around the cock filling my mouth. “Good,” the woman behind me groaned, her rhythm faltering as she got closer. “Take it.” My body burned, my skin alive with pain and pleasure, my throat raw from choking on cock, my hips aching from the brutal pace. But when the silent one raised the whip again, all I could do was moan, “*More*.”

The silent one’s hand tangled in my hair, jerking my head back with a sharp tug. “Beg properly,” she murmured, her breath hot against my ear. The rider behind me didn’t stop—her cock drove deeper, her fingers digging into my hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Please—” My voice was ragged, my back stinging, my throat aching. “Drag me to your hiding place. Use me.” The woman in my mouth laughed, slow and dark, before pulling free. “On your knees,” she ordered, yanking me down. The sudden emptiness was almost worse than the pain. The rider behind me withdrew with a rough groan, her grip shifting to my arm as she hauled me up. The silent one pressed the whip under my chin, forcing my gaze up. “Move.” They dragged me across the room, my legs unsteady, my skin burning where their hands gripped me. A door opened—a dim space inside, barely enough room to breathe. The woman behind me shoved me forward, and my knees hit the ground hard. The silent one stepped in front of me, her fingers tracing my lips. “Open.” I did. The first cock filled my mouth before I could even swallow, while another pressed against my sore, slick entrance from behind. The whip rested against my welted back—a silent threat. The woman behind me leaned in, her voice a growl. “Now we see how loud you can scream.”

The first thrust from behind nearly knocked me forward, my teeth grazing the cock in my mouth before I forced my jaw wider. The silent one’s fingers tightened in my hair, guiding my movements, her hips rocking steadily as she filled my throat. The woman behind me didn’t ease in—she took, brutal and deep, her cock stretching me open mercilessly. The whip trailed down my spine, the leather tip teasing over fresh welts until I shuddered. Then—*crack*—it bit into my skin, sending a shock of white-hot pleasure through me. My cry was muffled by the cock fucking my mouth, my body jerking between them. “Louder,” the silent one demanded, her voice rough. She pulled back just enough to let me gasp before slamming back in, her rhythm relentless. The woman behind me matched her pace, her thrusts sharp enough to make my toes curl, my ass burning with every movement. The whip landed again—higher this time, right between my shoulders. My scream tore free as my body arched, the pain and pleasure twisting tighter. The silent one’s breath hitched. “Good girl.”

The whip clattered to the floor as the silent one’s hands left my hair. A rough shove sent me sprawling forward, my palms barely catching me before my face hit the ground. Behind me, I heard the rustle of rope being unwound—coarse, unyielding. “Stay down,” the woman behind me ordered, her knee pressing into the small of my back. The rope bit into my wrists first, pulled tight enough to make my fingers tingle. They wrenched my arms behind me, knotting them at an angle that forced my shoulders to strain. The silent one straddled my thighs, her weight pinning me as she looped another length around my ankles, spreading my legs wide with a sharp tug. “Tighter,” the rider demanded. A low groan escaped me as the rope dug deeper, my body fully at their mercy now. The silent one leaned over me, her breath hot against my ear. “You wanted this.” The rider’s fingers traced the curve of my ass, slick with sweat and my own arousal, before her cock pressed against me again—no warning, no easing in. She sheathed herself in one brutal motion, drawing a ragged cry from my throat. Above me, the silent one smirked. “Louder.”

The silent one shifted her weight, pressing a boot firmly against my cheek, the leather cool and smooth against my burning skin. She ground my face into the floor, forcing my lips to part as the sole dragged over my mouth. “Clean them,” she ordered, her voice dark with command. I obeyed, dragging my tongue along the polished toe, tasting salt and the faint tang of leather. The rider’s thrusts never slowed, each deep stroke making my back arch, my breath hitching as I worked to please both of them. The silent one pressed harder, tilting her foot so I could reach the arch, the sole pressing against my tongue. “Every inch,” she murmured. “Or I’ll make you start over.” I moaned around the boot, my body trembling as pleasure and submission coiled tighter. The rider’s grip on my hips tightened, her pace turning punishing. “Good,” the silent one purred, watching me. “Now the other one.” She switched feet, her boot glistening with my spit before she shoved it back against my lips.

The silent one exhaled sharply through her nose—approval or impatience, I couldn’t tell—before yanking my bound ankles wider, rope creaking as she anchored them to a heavy iron ring in the floor. The rider finally pulled out of me with a wet sound, leaving me empty and throbbing as she stepped back. "Stay," the silent one commanded, pressing her boot harder against my cheek until my face was flush with the ground. Then she lifted her foot and dropped it between my shoulder blades, pinning me like a rug. The rider straddled my hips again, but this time she just leaned back, resting her bare feet on the curve of my ass. "Better than a stool," she mused, digging her heel into the tender flesh. I whimpered, my body jolting as the silent one shifted her weight. Her boot nudged my jaw open again. "Keep your mouth ready," she said. "We're not done with you yet." The rider laughed, flexing her toes against the small of my back—a warning, a promise.

The silent one knelt beside me, her fingers tightening in my hair as she yanked my head back. “Greedy,” she murmured, dragging a length of coarse rope between my teeth before looping it around my throat—not enough to choke, just enough to remind me who owned the air in my lungs. The rider unhooked the cage from the wall—black iron bars, barely wide enough for me to curl up inside. She swung the door open with a metallic clang. “On your knees.” The silent one shoved me forward, binding my wrists behind my back with ruthless efficiency, the knots biting into my skin. I arched, trying to ease the strain, but she just smacked the side of my thigh. “Eyes down.” The rider grabbed my elbow, guiding me into the cage with a firm grip. My shoulders scraped against the bars as she folded me inside. The silent one crouched, securing my ankles to the base with more rope, ensuring I couldn’t straighten my legs. “There,” the rider said, securing the latch. “Now you stay put.” The silent one ran a boot along the bars, the leather squeaking. “We’ll decide if you get out.”

The rider traced a fingernail along the cage bars, the slow scrape of metal making my skin prickle. “Be good,” she purred, “and we’ll reward you when we return.” The silent one crouched, gripping the bars to stare down at me with dark amusement. “Don’t move.” Her voice was flat, absolute. I shivered, the rough ropes biting deeper as I shifted involuntarily. The rider smirked, dragging her knuckles over my exposed ribs before standing. “Think about how we’ll use you next.” They stepped back, boots clicking against the stone floor as they moved toward the door. The silent one paused, glancing over her shoulder. “We *will* finish this.” The latch clicked shut, leaving me in the dim silence, stretched taut between anticipation and restraint. My pulse hammered where the ropes pressed, my breath quickening at the promise in their absence. *They’ll be back.* And when they were, I’d still be here—waiting, aching, theirs.