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T he arena lights shine through the wooden slats of the barn, illuminating the area in an ominous pattern. The stink of piss and vomit is noxious, but the blood gives it the metallic kick I crave, making it bearable. Our little piggy is waiting for us again, standing close to the bars of his enclosure in silence. The buzzing in my head escalates to the blasting of a siren.

Fuck. The shackles. Why can’t I remember something as simple as the fucking shackles?

There’s a sinking feeling in my chest, like I’ve swallowed a lead brick. A nagging sensation coils in my stomach, like a snake ready to strike. Normally trembling with anticipation, I shake from the nervous energy crackling around me. Hair raises on my arms and across the back of my neck.

Something is off.

I shake my head. It’s the shackles–it must be. I’ve thrown off my routine, that’s all.

A wave of nausea hits me, and I swallow against the sour taste in my mouth. I dry my sweaty hands on my tank top, leaving dirty streaks down the white cotton. This is my favorite shirt, with large red pom-poms stitched down the center and brown stains I refuse to bleach—prizes from past rodeos. My red shorts wrap around my hips like a second skin, pushing my ass cheeks out of the bottom. Cat has a top similar to mine but with blue poms. As much as I’d love to see her in a matching set of shorts, she prefers to wear jeans. She doesn’t like the way her ass sticks to the saddle.

“You got this?” I ask Catalina as I open Jasper’s stall door and start to saddle him up. I hoist myself onto his back and turn to look at Cat. She’s still standing in the middle of the barn. I shift my hips, trying to ease the discomfort in my body and the tension from her silence. Can she feel it too? “Cat?”

Cat’s gaze stays on the cage. I reach over to Jasper’s feed trough and grab a handful of hay to toss at her, calling her name again. The hay lazily drifts through the air and disperses long before it reaches her, but it still gets her attention. She shivers then nods her head. “I’m good. He’s just so quiet. You musta’ really took the fight outta him today.” She picks up her own handful of hay, grins, and throws it back in my direction.

“Almost takes all the fun out of it, doesn’t it?” I say, frowning as I ride towards the opening to the corral. The lights bathe the arena and the empty stands in a haunting shade of yellow. The crowd in my mind filters in, chattering loudly as the scent of popcorn and cigarettes saturates the light evening breeze. There might even be a hint of cotton candy. An announcer’s booming voice comes across imaginary speakers.

Welcome, folks, to another night of Blood Chute! Take your seats! Little Miss Sadie Rae is all saddled up!

“I’ll rile ‘em up a bit before I send him to the chute,” Cat laughs, but her tone is flat. Jasper trots us away from the barn, and I turn to look over my shoulder one last time. I catch her just before she exits my line of sight, heading towards the cage. I silently plead for her to remember to grab the cattle prod before opening the door. Even a broken down piggy will still feel the primal urge to fight against slaughter.

Jasper and I stand in our usual position at the other side of the corral, waiting for the right moment to make our grand entrance. Other than the cicada screams, the arena is quiet, and the snake coils in my stomach again.

Looks like there is a little delay tonight, folks.

A feminine shout breaks the silence, followed by chaotic shuffling and the slamming of a door. “Cat!” I cry, already guiding Jasper away from the arena and towards the front of the barn.

Stay in your seats, folks! The way Sadie Rae took off, I’m thinkin’ this isn’t planned.

“Shut the fuck up!” I scream, holding my head in one hand and the reins with the other. As I round the corner of the building, a dark figure limps as fast as it can towards the woods. “ Motherfucker!” I dismount, pain radiating through my knees as my boots slam to the ground, but I sprint through it. Cat is kneeling on the floor, groaning curses and rubbing her throat.

“I’ll fucking kill him!” I shout, letting my simmering rage reach full boil. “And then bring ‘em back just so I can cut ‘em up and feed him the pieces!” I kneel next to her and cradle her face in my hands. Rage and tears fill her eyes behind dust coated eyelashes.

She coughs, sounding more like a bark, and hacks out wads of spit that fall before she can speak. Her lips pull back over gritted teeth. “Piece. Of. Shit. Fuckin’. Hog,” she snarls between breaths.

“Don’t worry, baby. We’ll be dancing in his blood before the sun comes up,” I say, helping her up and dusting her off. I try to comfort her, but venom seeps from my every pore thinking about him laying a finger on her. “I’ll have him beggin’ for death.”

“I thought he was just out of it. He was standin’ there, just swayin’, mumblin’ some nonsense,” she grumbles, rubbing her throat again. “Then he fuckin’ rushed me. Used the rope around his wrists to choke me out.” Her cheeks redden, and I look away. I pretend not to notice her embarrassment and sit with my own. It’s my fault. I forgot the shackles—again—and my fuck up almost cost me everything. It almost cost me Cat. A lump lodges inside my throat, and I try to choke it down to stew in another time, when there’s no loose stock running free into the night.

“Saddle up, babe,” I purr, rubbing her arms. “Let’s go catch us a runaway piggy.”

I mount Jasper again, and once she’s on Jameson, we push our horses as fast as they’ll go until we reach the tree line. We both dismount and continue the hunt on foot, steering clear of the traps I’ve set in the woods. They’re my insurance policy to keep people out but to also keep them in. The path our little piggy took will lead him straight into them.

It doesn’t take long to find him—all the bitching and moaning he’s doing is a homing beacon to his location. Fifty feet into the trees, he’s splayed out on the ground, twisting and turning. A steel spring trap holds him by one ankle, and I smile so hard, my cheeks ache with delight. There’ll be no more running now.

His ankle is limp, forced into an unnatural angle by the jaws of the trap. Panic causes him to continue to jerk on his leg, forcing it more out of place. Angry red claw marks trail up his bare skin, like he attempted to claw the damn leg off. The artery in his neck pulses so rapidly, I wonder if his heart will explode.

Cat’s the first to jump him, landing square on his stomach. Air bursts from him like a popped balloon, sending spit and snot flying. She squeezes his squirming body between her thighs and lands fist after fist on his crumpled face. She suddenly stops, snapping out of whatever trance took hold of her. “Fuck with me again,” she barks, “and I won’t stop until your brain is on my knuckles.” The little piggy, barely conscious, just shakes his head between whimpers.

I howl with laughter and sit in front of Cat, squeezing my ass down between her thighs. She grabs my hips and moves them in sync with hers. The little pig beneath squeaks in protest. “I can feel your fuckin’ dick thickening, you sick little pig,” Cat says, a cruel edge to her voice. I buck my body back, driving harder against her with a deep, sinister laugh.

“Think it’ll still get hard after we carve ‘em up like a Sunday ham?” I ask between exaggerated moans, digging my nails into the piggy’s stomach. I pull a hunting knife from my boot with a wicked grin. “Let’s find out.”

I grip the knife, adjusting my fingers on the handle as I bring the tip down to his chest. “Now, this might hurt a little,” I giggle and press the blade down until the first drop of red comes to the surface. I smile, working the blade deeper before dragging it across his skin. His screams grow louder, more desperate, with each mark. Over and over, I cut and slice until I finish my masterpiece, the letters P-I-G-G-Y marring his flesh. Blood spills down his chest in tiny streams, pooling in his navel. Angry pink ridges of skin frame each letter. I press my finger into the first wound and trace each letter again, forcing the skin to tear further. “P-I-G-G-Y,” I spell out for him. “Didn’t know if you could still read upside down. Probably can’t read at all with those weak fuckin’ tears cloudin’ your eyes. Let me help.”

I lean over him, arching my ass up into Cat’s face, and crash both hands into the pig’s blubbering face. I drag my palms roughly in opposite directions, pushing away muddy trails of tears. “Open your fuckin’ eyes so you can see the show,” I say, my voice growing sultry as Cat tugs my shorts below the curve of my ass.

He shakes his head, rolling it against the ground. His eyes crinkle at the corners as he clamps them shut. I pull my hand back and slap him hard enough to send the other cheek into the dirt. When he’s still unwilling to open his eyes, I use my fingers to pry his eyelids apart. My hands tremble, almost losing my hold on him, when Cat runs her tongue over my slit. My hips sway, desperate for her to take more of me. Her hands move to grip my ass, pulling my cheeks apart for better access. Her tongue laps in painfully slow circles, teasing my entrance before penetrating it in hungry thrusts.

“Fucking eat me alive, Cat,” I moan, pushing harder into the little piggy’s face as I brace myself against the waves of my building climax. His cries blend into mine, a melody of pain and pleasure. My thighs are already soaked with the evidence of my need, but I lift one hand so I can wipe the blood still weeping from his wounds. I run my crimson-coated hand down the soft skin of my stomach until I reach the swollen bundle of nerves aching to be touched. The sensation of blood mixing with my arousal and Cat’s saliva is enough to push me to the edge. My legs start to shake, and Cat bats my hand away.

“You’re not coming until you squeal as loud as the little piggy beneath us,” Cat drawls darkly. “You don’t come undone until he does.” She takes a chunk of my ass between her teeth, and I cry out. Her right hand grabs my left ankle, and she flips me over. She drags me by my hips until my ass is centered right above the base of piggy’s cock. I rest my back against his chest, swirling my body against him and coating my skin in the warmth of his blood. Cat lifts my legs, pulling my shorts the rest of the way off, baring my pussy to her. She presses her thumb to my clit, circling it with gradually increasing pressure. “That’s a good fucking girl.”

Little piggy’s cock throbs against my warm center, despite the way he struggles under me. I laugh and grind my hips against the base of him, creating a delicious friction against his sopping wet patch of matted pubic hair. “Is that your blood or my pussy juice that has you so wet, little pig? Or maybe you pissed yourself again?” I ask, not caring for a response as I continue to rub myself against the length of him.

Cat rubs her palm over his groin and up my center. “You want me to fuck you with this pig’s cock?” she snarls, snapping her teeth at me. Her fingers scoop up more blood, sliding them through my center before pushing them into me. “You want me to fill your ass with his filthy fucking meat slab while I suck every drop of cum from your needy little cunt?” Her pace quickens with each word, and my head falls back, moans erupting from me. She adds another finger, then two, continuing to pump them into me. The fullness of her hand inside me edges me to the brink of my sanity.

“I’ll cut his cock off and stuff you with it until he gets cold,” she growls. The piggy below me grunts and squeals as his shaft slips between my ass cheeks with every feverish roll of my hips. My legs shake as wave after orgasmic wave crashes over me. I squeal with every ounce of oxygen still left in my lungs when she presses against the spot on my inner wall that causes me to unravel completely.

“Catalina!” I scream her name one time, or maybe a thousand, delirious with pleasure as my release pours down her arm. I break apart, my body splitting into an infinite number of pieces as white spots cloud my vision and I collapse onto the body below me.