I’m told that it went on for hours, with Dick being used and abused even worse than Amanda had been, not only by Consuela, Rosalita and Liz, but by that group of Ben’s friends, and some of the gals from the whorehouses strapped on dildos as well and took turns, no doubt getting even on Dick for his arrogant treatment of them over the years. I heard that by the time they were though with him Dick looked like a cum covered sponge, and he spent the night chained to the hitching post with a used corn cob shoved up his ass. People came and went, and anyone who wanted to abuse the poor soul could do whatever they pleased. I’m told he ate a lot of pussy, sucked a lot of cock, and ate a lot of asses that night.
I heard that some of the gals from Madame Orr’s house got liquored up and had some fun with him. Several of them took turns putting his mouth to good use while a second gal worked that corn cob in and out of his ass and a third gal jerked him off. Dick had to lick the cum off that gal’s hand, and I heard he took the corn cob in his mouth as well. Those gals were intent on getting even for the way he had treated them over the years. Boy did they ever!
By the time Dick was released the following day he collapsed like a puddle of cum, just as Amanda had earlier. Dick had a fresh coat of tar and feathers before he was led through the town, just as Amanda had been, and shown off to the townsfolk who had not made it down to South Street. The poor guy sported a huge hard-on the entire time, adding to his shame and humiliation.
They say that by the time Consuela and her girls poured what was left of Dick into the back of her wagon and took him out to her ranch that he was weeping like a little girl. Now I don’t know what exactly went on out at Consuela’s ranch, nobody saw hide nor hair of them for weeks, but whatever she did to him changed him forever. Some said he was a broken man, others said he wasn’t much of a man at all anymore. Consuela had that rose design that she used on her bricks, and that was painted on the front of the Spanish Rose, and that she used to brand her livestock. I know that when Dick surfaced again you could see that she had branded him as well, right across the ass, like he was one of her horses or prized steers.
Yes sir, Dick was never the same after that fateful day. Neither was the town, for that matter. In fact, if you came to town a year later you would hardly recognize the place. By then we were a regular thriving metropolis. The railroad had finally come to town and that really put us on the map. The funny thing is that when it came it was not on the north side, as so many had predicted, but instead came along the south side of town. Anyone lucky enough or savvy enough to own property on the south side really made a killing. All those immigrants who had bought all that “worthless” land, and all of whom, it turns out, worked for Consuela, made a pretty penny, but none more than Consuela, who became the richest woman in the territory.
Consuela was friends with the railroad surveyors. Not just friends, or even close friends but what you would call intimate friends. She was also intimate friends with several of the railroad executives. They were all frequent visitors to her brothels, and in whispered pillow talk, had informed Consuela about their plans for the new route. Consuela knew about the railroad coming to town long before anyone in town even had an inkling and she had put her plans in motion long before the day she arrived in town.
While she may have always had an eye of profits Consuela was not greedy. She was like a chess master, carefully laying out the pieces on the board, planning not just her first move but her tenth, and twentieth, and watching everything fall into place. She would forgo short-term profits if it meant a bigger reward down the line, such as planning the ruination of Amanda and Dick, and if that meant sharing certain details with certain parties, the ultimate reward justified it all. Consuela might, for example, share certain details with an individual, providing that individual promised not to interfere with her plans. For example, if, on the day a certain blonde beauty was about to go off the deep end and get herself into a world of trouble, an individual might promise not to interfere, and in return he might be given certain information that would make him a shit ton of money and allow him to retire at the ripe old age of 27.
Now I ain’t saying that I knew what was going to happen to Amanda on that fateful day, I can’t rightly say that even Liz, who led the charge, knew how events would play out exactly, but I may have had an inkling. I may have known that it was time for a comeuppance. I will say that I am now what you would call one of the idle rich and will live out my days in luxury. I made a pretty penny that day, lots of them in fact, and have invested wisely, mostly with Consuela’s businesses, and I am a silent partner in many of her ventures now.
As you can guess, I retired from the Sheriffing business. In fact, we now have a regular police force, with a Police Chief and a regular police department, modeled on the likes of New York and Boston. It is only fitting now that we are a thriving metropolis.
Yes sir, if you came to town a year after that fateful day you would hardly recognize our little town. We ain’t so little anymore, for one thing, with the town growing out and up, with more and more of those brick buildings being built, and all with Consuela’s brick. The town has probably quadrupled in size, in both land and population, and it doesn’t look like the same place anymore.
Of course, some things never change. A year later you can still walk into the Spanish Rose and be entertained by the bevy of beauties that work there. You might notice the pair of britches nailed up on the wall above the bar, the ones with the obvious pee stain in the crotch, along with a denim shirt, yellow stained knickers and a fancy two-gun rig, all on display. If you happen to see a young Spanish beauty behind the bar she will gleefully regale you with the story behind those mementoes. She will even pull out a photo album, filled to the brim with the hundreds of pictures that were taken that day.
Some things never change, that is true, but other things, well, maybe change isn’t even the right word. Take Dick, for example. If you came to town a year after that fateful day you would not recognize him. First of all, there is no doubt who wears the pants in that family. In fact, I think that fateful day may have been the last time Dick wore any pants. He is more than just Consuela’s husband; he is more like her little bitch. Consuela, Rosalita and Liz, and their gals may not have castrated him physically, but mentally, emotionally, and psychologically, well, that is another matter.
Dick had fallen in love with Consuela at first sight, and he didn’t just have love in his eyes; he saw dollar signs when he saw how wealthy she was. The funny part was that when she finally brought that whipped puppy back into town he was the one that signed over everything he owned, money and property, to Consuela. I know, you might be thinking “why didn’t he just go and get a divorce since his marriage was never consummated?” While it is true that he did not get to fuck Consuela, she certainly fucked him, right up the ass, and right there in front of half the town!
Dick’s problem was that he didn’t have any friends in town. Let’s face it, Big Dick was a big dick, and nobody in town really liked him anyway, so no one was on his side; it wasn’t like he had any friends to turn to. Besides, with our new police force, which, despite being bigger cost the town less than what Dick and Amanda were extorting, there was no need for the likes of Sheriff Dick anymore. When you spend ten years bullying a town and keeping it under your thumb, when the worm turns and you are under that same thumb, you can’t really expect any mercy.
Dick didn’t get any.
You would not recognize old Dick. For one thing, he hasn’t had a regular haircut since that fateful day, at least not a proper man’s haircut. Consuela made him grow his lair out long, and had Johanna, the resident beautician, bleach it blonde and curl it. He looks more like Amanda than the big tough Sheriff he once was. Like I said, Consuela wears the pants in the family, and dresses Dick in frilly lace, and if he is allowed to wear pats they are more like panties, all frills and lace. He hasn’t worn a man’s clothes since he was stripped in that street.
He also never did get to fuck that pussy he so desired either. That isn’t to say that Consuela is celibate. That woman has an insatiable sexual appetite, and had had a procession of lovers, some for a week or two, some just for the night, and some just for an hour or two. She likes them young and hung. Dick is, of course, aware of this. In fact, she makes him watch as these young, hung studs please her. Not only does she make him watch as she moans in pleasure as these young studs bring her to orgasm, taunting Little Dickie, as she now calls him, about what real men these are, and what as disappointing sissy he has turned out to be. That isn’t to say that Dickie hasn’t tasted her pussy. She likes to straddle his face after a young stud had filled her pussy with his cum and let it drip onto Dickie’s face before forcing him to lick the cum of the real man who just pleased his wife’s pussy. Sometimes Consuela makes him lick the balls and ass of the young stud to get him ready for another round, and sometimes even makes him do it while they are fucking her. Old Dickie will often sit there, down on his knees, dressed in some frilly nightie with his hair in curlers, holding a dildo up his ass and furiously jerking off while he watches they young studs please his wife. Sometimes Consuela will have that young stud prove his adoration for her by fucking old Dickie up the ass. Dickie, of course, always sucks these men clean after they fuck his wife, or after they fuck him. Some nights, when Consuela needs a rest, she will send him over to Madame Orr’s House and he will kneel there in the hallway, a plug up his butt, and go room to room to suck off the men’s cocks after they finish whore fucking, and to lick the women’s pussies clean. Another use for old Dickie over at Madame Orr’s place is that, well, not all cowboys like cowgirls. Let’s face it, some men are funny like that and instead of cowgirls, they like other cowboys. Old Dickie is there to oblige them. There are others who ain’t exactly into other cowboys but who love the chance to put it to old Dickie, especially after the way he treated some of them in the past.
So why, you might wonder, doesn’t he just leave town? I think it is because he likes it! Consuela still likes to strap on a dildo and fuck his sorry ass. On those nights when Consuela takes him up to her room you can hear his screams of pain, and pleasure. Dickie has come to enjoy being Consuela’s personal maid, bitch and fuck toy. It is as if he has finally found his place in the world, it may be as a submissive sissy boy, but it is a role he now relishes. Once or twice a year Ben comes to stay with Consuela for a week or two, and old Dickie, well he is in heaven. Submissively serving the Spanish woman and black man who turned Dickie from the big, tough Sheriff into the wimpy little sissy he now was, well, Dickie got to relive the whole humiliating ordeal all over again. I think he could not be happier.
According to Consuela, who knows a thing or two about men, all the time that Dickie was being an abusive bully he was just compensating for his own sense of worthlessness. Deep down he was submissive, and he was doing to others what, deep down, he wanted them to do to him. There was a point, on that fateful day, when Ben was fucking Amanda that I thought she might get a case of BCS, Black Cock Syndrome, falling in love with big, black cocks. Turns out that it was Dickie who caught the fever, and when Ben comes to visit he is in absolute heaven. Dickie walks around with a hard-on 24 hours a day in anticipation of what Consuela and Ben will do to him, or make him do. For Dickie, it is heaven and hell at the same time.
