by S. J. Lewis
Her backpack was the last to go, the material cut and torn from the aluminum tube frame, the frame itself bent and crumpled, stomped flat, folded up on itself. There was nothing at all left of what she’d brought with her…there was just her now. Her survival knife he’d kept for himself.
He looked up at the sky, where the first stars were coming out. Just above the trees, Venus glowed brighter than any of them. “It’s time.” He said.
Lloyd, sitting by the fire, poking at it with a stick, looked up and grinned. “Guess you call dibs, eh?” he chuckled. “Fair enough. You did most of the work.”
“I can wait a bit.” Kurt chimed in, stretching big arms up over his head for a moment. “Kinda wanna try her mouth out for size myself.”
“I wouldn’t try sticking my dick in there just now.” Ron said. “She’s liable to bite yet.”
“Yep.” Kurt agreed happily. “She’ll be changin’ her mind though.”
“She surely will.” Ron nodded. “But not tonight.”
She heard footsteps drawing near her, and raised her head to look in sudden panic. It was the big black guy who’d hit her, pinched her, cut her clothes off. He had to be the leader of this bunch. She scraped up enough courage to glare at him as he stood near her, looking down. The firelight was behind him, and she couldn’t see his face…just a big, dark presence looming over her. He said nothing, then lit a cigarette.
A healthy young female body is a lovely combination of form and function, prompting urges so primitive that it’s very difficult to put them into words. He took his time looking her over, noting the smooth flare of her hips, the swellings of her small breasts, how the muscles stood out in her thighs as she strained at the ropes, consciously or otherwise trying to draw her legs together. He took a last drag at the cigarette before flipping it away into the surrounding dark.
“You sure made us work for you, elf-girl.” He chuckled down at her. “I’m thinkin’ maybe you decided to call it all off too, right?”
Looking up at him, Kimberley nodded warily. Maybe she could still just go back to the lodge.
“Well, you can’t.” he chuckled again. “Once you went off into the woods you were all ours. We can do any damn thing we want. We’re gonna, too.” He looked her up and down, slowly. “Know what I see here?” he asked. Certain that she didn’t want to know, Kimberley was motionless except for a slow, reflexive clenching of her hands.
“I see…” he went on, “Tits, legs, a pussy, a mouth and an ass, and they all look pretty good.” He squatted down beside her and cupped a breast in one big hand, squeezing it as his thumb ran back and forth across the nipple. He kept his eyes on hers as he did it until her angry glare faded and she had to look away. Once she did, he began handling the rest of her body, none too gently. The texture of his hands was hard and rough and after a little while she was squirming under them, making hopeless little noises of protest.
Her skin was soft, almost silky, with well-toned muscles lying just beneath. He gripped her by the hair to make her hold a bit more still, and was surprised. While it looked soft and fine, it actually had a stiff, coarse quality to it, as if it had been spun out of fine gold wires. Holding her hair with one hand, he ran the other down to her pussy to make a comparison. The hair there wasn’t quite as stiff or coarse, but still belied its appearance. He moved from there to her inner thighs, moving his hand up and down slowly, kneading her flesh as she renewed her squirming and protests, in spite of his grip on her hair. He gave her head a rough shake.
You’re gonna take some tamin’.” He told her. “I can tell.” His hand went back to her pussy, and he slid two fingers between the fleshy outer lips, watching her eyes go wide as he did so. “Well, we’re good at that.” He went on as his hand continued to invade her. “Before we’re done you’re gonna be anxious to please. You’re gonna do stuff you never even thought of, elf-girl.”
His words stuck a cold stiletto of fear into her, even as she wondered why he called her elf-girl. Kimberley tried to go limp, hoping that if she stopped struggling he’d lose interest in tormenting her like this, do what he’d no doubt come to do to her, and then leave her alone.
He felt and saw her go limp and smiled. It was pretty much all she could do now, but that wouldn’t work either. Still gripping her by the hair, his fingers still probing a bit more deeply inside her, he bent his head to take her nipple into his mouth. Her felt her stiffen momentarily as he began to suck on it, gently at first. After one faint shudder, she went slack again, as if she were trying to escape to some place inside herself. When she did that, he began to slowly bite down on the swollen nubbin of flesh until she whimpered in pain and began to writhe again, trying vainly to pull away. He let go of the nipple and looked into her eyes- frightened now- giving her head a rough shake for emphasis.
“You stay right here, elf-girl.” He told her. “No tryin’ to duck out on us.” His other hand kept probing her, his thumb finding her clit and massaging it as his fingers pushed inside. She was getting a little bit wet now, in spite of her fears and his own rough handling. He needed to get her a little bit wetter, or taking her wouldn’t be all that much fun for him either. She winced as he manipulated her, her hips twisting, trying to get away from his hand and what it was doing. He looked into her eyes and laughed. “I think you’re startin’ to like this.” He grinned at her. She tried to shake her head ‘no’, but he tightened his grip on her hair so she couldn’t. He gave her head one last rough shake before letting go so he could move to kneel between her parted legs. She raised her head, eyes wide, shaking her head ‘no’ vigorously and trying to protest through the gag. He just laughed at her as he began unfastening his pants one-handed.
“You made me chase you down.” He told her. “I earned this.”
He started to guide his cock into her with one hand, supporting himself on the other. She wriggled and twisted, keeping him from succeeding until he cuffed her roughly on the side of her head. Half-stunned for a moment, she was still long enough for him to push the head of his cock in. He shifted his weight, bracing himself with an arm to either side of her, and began a slow, deliberate thrust, watching her eyes as he did so. She was tight, very tight, and still not all that wet. He was about halfway in when she recovered from his slap. Her eyes went huge, looking up into his in shock, surprise, even a little fear. She seemed to try to shrink away from him, whimpering at first, unable to tear her eyes away from his until he had slowly forced himself all the way in. She lay very still, except for a constant faint trembling he could just barely feel.
He felt so…big! His grinning face was inches from hers, his breath warm on her. She could feel him filling her, slowly, deliberately. There was nothing she could do about it. The ropes at her ankles bit into her as she tried instinctively to pull her legs together, force him out. There had been no foreplay, unless his rough handling of her counted, and she was far from ready for this…it HURT!
Fully in her now, he paused for a moment, feeling the warmth of her around his cock, softly squeezing it. He thought he could feel her first fluttering contractions, and he moved his hips in a slow circular motion, watching her eyes so he could see what was going on in there. Her eyelids drooped for a moment, and he felt her whole body relax briefly before those eyes went wide again, staring almost blankly right into his. Then she shut her eyes tight and she began to buck and writhe under him as she tilted her head back and screamed through the gag.
Only Kurt and Lloyd heard the muffled scream, and they grinned at each other over the flickering campfire.
She still wasn’t very wet as he began pumping her, slowly at first. Her wild struggling was a further turn-on for him, and he began to thrust harder…faster…until he was slamming into her with each stroke, each stroke driving another muffled grunt from her. He could feel her growing wetter as he did, in spite of the struggles, the protests and even the tears she was now crying. He grinned. Part of her taut little body was starting to run on automatic now, betraying her. He was fa
irly sure he could make her come whether she wanted to or not, and even more sure that she was probably great fun in bed under other circumstances. But…he could feel his own orgasm starting to build, and the object of the exercise was not to adjust themselves to give her pleasure but to adjust her to give them pleasure. She would learn. He sped up his thrusts, feeling her strugglings increase, hearing the noises she made grow louder.
Kimberley felt her captor suddenly jerk hard against her, groaning, followed by more, weakening spasms and quieter groans and knew for certain she’d been taken and used as his body sank down onto hers, making it hard for her to get a full breath. He was big, muscular, hard, warm and heavy, and still deep inside of her. She quit struggling, aware now of the faint numbness in her toes and fingers, how tightly the ropes clenched her wrists and ankles, how terribly sore she was. She kept her eyes closed and tried not to move. After a long moment, he raised himself up on his arms again. She felt his mouth on her nipple, sucking at it, tonguing it, and shuddered. Then he nipped it lightly between his teeth and she yelped weakly, opening her eyes at last. He cuffed her alongside her head again, almost affectionately.
“You got a lot to learn yet, elf-girl.” He said to her.
He got up, slowly, enjoying the feel as he slowly slid out of her. He stood over her for a long moment, lighting another cigarette. After a moment, she gave up trying to kill him with her glare, and turned her head away, sobbing. He chuckled. “This part ain’t so bad.” He told her. “Just the initiation. It gets harder. You’ll see.”
He took a few steps away from her and urinated into the grass before zipping up and going back to the campfire. Kurt was already standing, waiting his turn, and he waved him on with a grin. “She’s tight, man.” He told Kurt in a voice loud enough for elf-girl to hear. “And she’s all yours now.”
Kimberley groaned hopelessly. Three of them! She prayed fervently that it would be over soon, and could not help looking up to see who her new tormentor was. It was the squat, powerfully-built one with the bald head. He looked obscenely eager as he came over to her, big hands clenching and unclenching. She stiffened as he approached.
Long minutes later, she was screaming through the gag again. He was handling every part of her body with paws like padded vises, squeezing, poking, prodding. He seemed to enjoy her screams, and if she could have she’d have stopped making them, but the one time she did he’d gripped and twisted her nipples until she gave up. He slapped her, hard, here and there for variety: Head, ribs, hips, thighs. Half-stunned and completely scared, she was almost grateful when he interrupted his rough torture to mount her, letting her take his full weight as he fucked her hard. She tried to look into his eyes, hoping to get some scant sympathy, but all she saw there was a brute, mindless purpose and she closed her eyes and turned her head, letting him use her.
That did no good. When he felt her go limp, he stopped fucking her, raised himself on one massive arm, and slapped her into wide-eyed attention.
“Move, bitch.” He growled. “Move for me or I’ll twist them little nips of yours again.”
The threat was enough. As he started fucking her again, she began to move her hips for him as best she could, trying to match his fast and powerful rhythm.
“Better.” He grunted, and went on mercilessly. Kimberley felt her breath being driven out of her by his weight and thrusts, felt herself going lightheaded. Her abused body began to feel somehow detached, her hips still moving in time with her attacker’s. Her heels tried to dig into the ground for traction, but the grass offered no purchase.
Then he was done, with a sudden series of spasms accompanied by deep, animal grunts. He buried his bald head into her neck, his breath hot on her bare skin as he emptied himself into her. She was barely awake when he pushed himself up off of her, then stood up. He nudged her in the ribs with a booted foot to get her attention. She looked up at him blankly.
“You’re gonna hafta do better’n that.” He said to her. “But it’s early. You’ll learn.”
Kimberley groaned, the tears coming again. She desperately wanted this to be over. What had she been thinking ever to try this? She watched as the bald man ambled back to the campfire. She felt cold, uncomfortable and desperately alone. Soon the third man would be coming over to use her too. She tried to squeeze her eyes shut tight enough to hold in the tears.
It had all started with her chance meeting with Barbara Kingman. After a long Winter of cataloguing and summarizing findings from the last dig, Kimberley had been looking for a good health club where she could get back into shape for the next round of digging and sorting. Her social life at the time was almost nonexistent, so when Barbara, the manager at the club she’d decided on, invited her to come along with some of the girls from the club for drinks, Kimberley accepted gladly.
Barbara was tall, blonde, and striking, with a self-confidence Kimberley envied mildly. She was also, Kimberley guessed, five or six years older than herself. Over the next few months, Kimberley developed a few friendships with the other club members, but found herself spending more and more time with Barbara. They both laughed at the same things, both got teary-eyed over the same sad movies, and they shared an interest in archaeology. They double-dated a few times, Barbara introducing Kimberley around, and twice supplying Kimberley with her dates for the evening. She did a commendable job of finding interesting men to spend an evening with. The only problem was, they weren’t quite interesting enough to spend more than an evening with.
They were in Barbara’s apartment after seeing a romantic comedy when Barbara brought this up.
“I just wonder what I’m doing wrong, Kim.” She said, shaking her head. “I usually pick better than that.”
“What do you mean?” Kimberley asked. “I’ve liked them all okay. They’re all nice guys.”
“Uh-huh.” Barbara grinned. “You know there are two kinds of ‘nice guy’, don’t you?”
“Two kinds?”
“Yep. The first is the kind of man a woman says she wants, and the second is the kind of man she’s just not that interested in.”
Kimberley laughed. “How can you tell them apart?”
“Easy.” Barbara replied. “The first kind is entirely imaginary.”
Kimberley frowned now. “What do you mean?”
“Look.” Barbara took a sip of her drink, lounging back on her small couch. “A nice guy might be okay for marriage, kids and regular mortgage payments, but just how exciting is he? Aren’t we more attracted physically to the bad boy, the outlaw? Isn’t he more exciting?”
Kimberley smiled. “I see what you mean.”
“But…” Barbara went on, “After the sex, you don’t really want him hanging around. He may make you scream in bed, but out of it he borrows money, your car, he disappears for days, hits on your friends and always leaves the toilet seat up.”
Both women laughed. “Pretty accurate.” Kimberley nodded. “So what’s to be done?”
“As it just so happens…” Barbara began with a wicked grin….
And now, Kimberley thought bitterly, here I am. Barbara had put her in touch with…well, she supposed it could be called an escort service. Over several months she’d had an opportunity to explore and experiment in ways she’d never quite dared to try before. She discovered that with the right type of guy she liked her sex a bit rough and strenuous. Then one of her “dates”, after getting her thoroughly excited, had flipped her face-down on the motel bed, handcuffed her, and proceeded to fuck her roughly from behind. It was as if some previously unsuspected switch had been thrown somewhere deep inside her. Afterwards she’d begged him to stay the night. He had, keeping her handcuffed and using her roughly…all in all three more times. She found herself wishing there had been two men there, because in spite of her astonishingly overpowering orgasms, she found her appetite whetted rather than sated. She’d wanted MORE…and now here she was, tired, sore, and painfully uncomfortable. She’d had enough. She wanted a hot bath, a hot meal and a warm, soft be
d. She wanted OUT!
And then she felt the third man’s hands playing with her breasts. She opened her eyes to look up at him. It was very late now. The campfire had dwindled to embers, and all she could see of him was a dark bulk blotting out some of the starlit sky. She could hear his heavy breathing over the noise of the night insects, and then he was on her, and then he was in her. She moaned weakly as he began with short, sharp thrusts that slammed into her, pounding her into the ground.
Chapter Five
Day Six
He awoke, immediately fully aware and alert. Sleeping outdoors always affected him that way, while sometimes at home in bed it was difficult to get moving at all. He flipped back the top of his sleeping bag and stood, stretching. Lloyd had had the third watch, and already had coffee brewing on the campfire. He was just walking back from their captive where she lay spreadeagled on the ground just as they’d left her. Lloyd gave him a nod and a thumbs-up sign, meaning she was okay. You had to keep and eye on them, especially when they were that helpless. Sometimes they’d vomit, and with a gag stuffing their mouths that could be dangerous. On one occasion, some years back, they’d had to chase off an inquisitive bear. Consequently, somebody always had to be awake and watching, just in case. Of course, there were little perks to the job. He’d spent some very pleasant time stroking, fondling and pinching that slender female body before using her again. She’d been completely worn out and exhausted by then, her responses limited to sleepy noises of complaint, weak twitches and spasms. While she’d been watched over carefully during the night, they’d made sure she’d gotten very little sleep…or rest. She should be a little more pliable by now.
Kurt was still rolled up in his sleeping bag, and he gave him a nudge with his foot. There was no response, so he nudged again and this time Kurt grunted grumpily. He just wasn’t a morning person.