"TAKE IT, SLUT! TAKE IT!!" Hank roared mindlessly.
His big brawny body dripped with sweat.
His evil dark eyes blazed like a demon's.
His face was contorted in an ugly grimace of sadistic excitement.
He loved the way her body jerked and spasmed when he struck it.
He loved the muffled, gurgling squawks that emanated from her throat as she attempted to scream.
He loved the feeling of each blow running up his arm like a shock.
He closed his eyes and shuddered as he struck her again, dreaming of the exquisite horrors to which he might subject her, if he had the mind to.
He flailed the poor wench's butt till his arm grew tired.
Then, he tossed the belt away and stood over her, panting thickly.
After a while, he bent down and untied the leash from the bars in the bed and yanked it forward, dragging the trembling, sobbing millionairess across the room.
He flipped her over on her back and groped around in the cabinet for some more delectable items of torture.
Then, he straddled her waist, sitting on her lap and grinning wolfishly down at her tear-stained face.
He held two sinister looking metal clamps up before her eyes, slowly waving them back and forth...
Chapter One
"Isn't Eve Sedgewick lovely?" someone murmured, and there was a general turning of heads and flutter of whispers as eager, bright eyes turned to see the famed beauty enter the statesroom of the yacht.
She certainly was a gorgeous creature. Her golden blonde hair spilled around smooth, alabaster shoulders, framing a delicately hewn oval-shaped face.
Her eyes were large and cool blue, and there was a supercilious arch to her eyebrow, as if to say, "I'm better than you are, and I know it."
She had a small, perky nose and full, voluptuously sensuous lips, the color of passion fruit.
Her figure was magnificent. She was wearing a shimmering white chiffon gown which was sleeveless and cut shockingly low over her curvaceous torso.
Her thrusting, ballooning breasts pressed against the pale material as if ready to spring free at any moment.
Her waist was trim and slender, and her hips just wide enough to be sensual without being pudgy.
The gown ended at her heels, but there was a gash up to her right knee on either side, and her shapely legs could be seen as she walked, screened by black net stockings.
A strand of pearls adorned her neck, and a small pearl and emerald brooch rested on her chest and rose and fell as she breathed.
Other than that, she wore no jewelry. No rings adorned her lovely, delicate hands, no bracelets could be seen on her slender wrists.
Eve Sedgewick's style was something almost chimerical. It couldn't really be defined.
She was always dressed very simply, yet very expensively, and she always looked impeccably well dressed.
She had made the list of ten best dressed women in the country for the past three years.
She was also one of the wealthiest women in the world.
And Eve was bored. Her ice blue eyes raked impudently over the motley assortment of wealthy or celebrated persons who were ogling her with greedy, curious eyes.
Eve Sedgewick was not much seen in public.
A swarm of guests descended on her, and she traded politenesses and cool nods and shook hands and smiled emptily at a myriad of unpleasant people, wishing she was anywhere else on earth.
"Hey, there, lady," a husky masculine voice rang out in her ear, "I didn't think you were going to make it!"
Eve turned and gazed up into the eyes of one of the most sexually attractive men she had ever encountered.
Hank Dubloon grinned wolfishly down at her, his hot black eyes raking like burning coals over her figure, his face not concealing the lust he was feeling.
Eve shivered, feeling the animal lust that sparked from him, infiltrating her with excitement.
She drew in an irregular breath, feeling something akin to fear, as she remembered now why she had accepted Hank Dubloon's invitation to come to the party on his yacht.
When he had asked her two nights ago, they had been at a formal dinner, and he sat next to her in a tuxedo, and as they ate and he talked, she felt a strange, involuntary thrill of excitement ripple through her. She found her pussy getting damp as she sensed the powerful masculinity of the man beside her.
She impetuously tried to rebel against this unusually strong reaction. Eve Sedgewick was a spoiled rich girl who was used to getting what she wanted.
At twenty, and with a fortune the size of hers, she was easily one of the most eligible single girls in America. All the best men were at her feet.
But she felt cool toward most of the fops and booze guzzling second sons of millionaires who vainly attempted to woo her into matrimony.
She felt restless and bored and unfulfilled. So the thrill she had received from her first meeting with Hank Dubloon made her curious. But she tried to hide her interest. If anything, she was cooller to Hank than to any of the other guests at the formal affair.
He leaned toward her near the end of the meal and said in a low, but authoritative tone which made her shudder involuntarily, "I am having a party on my yacht Saturday evening. You will come. I will send a car for you at seven."
Eve turned toward him with a look of mingled bafflement, excitement and rage. How DARE he? Her haughty self raged indignantly, but another, subtler self thrilled to Harry's voice.
"I very rarely go to parties," she had said in her iciest, coolest voice.
"But you will come to mine," he said decisively.
With a gasp, Eve stared at her eating companion, her head whirling.
There was something hard and brutish about his features. He had a bullet-shaped head and short-cropped dark brown hair, thick eye brows over a lowering pair of smoldering eyes.
His nose had been broken a couple of times, and his hard, thin lipped smile was almost a snarl.
He was dressed in a tuxedo, but the contrast was startling, like seeing Mr. Hyde in Mr. Jekyll's clothing.
He stared steadily at her, his eyes glinting with strange, powerful confidence.
He said slowly, "You will come because I want you there. My car will pick you up seven. Good evening, madam."
He rose abruptly, and strode away, leaving Eve staring after him, her mouth open, thunderstruck with vexation and curiosity.
She told herself she would not go. The whole thing was too, too silly. But on Saturday, she began to make herself look good.
She took a long bath, did her hair, carefully applied her make-up, and took two full hours to decide on the outfit she would wear.
Her practised, critical eye settled finally on the simple, practical, and radiantly beautiful white chiffon gown she had purchased several weeks earlier.
And at seven, the limousine pulled up in front of her estate, she got in, and was whisked away to the docks where a small motorboat took her out to the spot where Dubloon's yacht, "Blackbeard" was anchored.
Like Eve, Hank Dubloon was an immensely wealthy and famous man of means who happened to be single. He was, in fact, a loner and something of a recluse.
His past was mysterious, and shady; gossips said he had risen with liberal help from the Mafia.
At thirty-one, he was a multimillionaire with his finger in numerous pies which proved to be immensely profitable.
People murmured beneath their breath about strange rumors of sadism in Hank's island fortress of a home in the Caribbean.
He had constructed an authentic reproduction of a Medieval castle on the island, and strange guests were occasionally shuttled over via sea plane or boat for wild parties when Dubloon was in residence.
The islanders of the nearest island which visitors used as a stepping stone to Hank's private castle in the sea, whispered that sometimes, visitors never returned, and fisherman whose boats drifted near the ghostly floating castle late at night, claimed that pealing, blood-curdling screams quavered in the distance.
But mostly, people talked about Hank Dubloon's money.
Part of Eve's frustration was the fact that here was one man who was her equal in fortune, and therefore, was not a fortune hunter, and a man who had the gall to treat her like some contemptible whore, ordering her about...
These were the angry thoughts which rushed through Eve's mind as she waded through the flock of guests in the stateroom.
But the sound of his voice and the sight of Hank Dubloon's towering, powerfully muscular body sent unwitting shudders of interest through her, and she almost lost her composure.
She managed a shaky smile and said, "I... I almost decided not to come."
Hank smiled faintly, his eyes mirthless. "You were commanded to come, Eve Sedgewick. When I command you to do something, you will do it."
His voice was low and even, but harsh and deadly. His dark eyes glinted dangerously as he scowled into her face.
A strange clammy fear clutched at Eve's heart, and again, that impulsive flurry of excitement quivered in her tummy.
But she mustered up a false front of indignation.
In a low furious voice she gasped between gritted teeth, "How DARE you talk to me like that? What a nerve you've got..."
"Shut up," he snapped, and the words died in her mouth.
He had leaned forward and clamped his big beefy hand around one of her slender wrists and had squeezed it forcefully.
Eve shuddered, feeling the strength of his grip, feeling the pull of his magnetic masculine personality.
"Come," he said abruptly, "we need some privacy."
He held on to her arm and practically dragged the dazed millionairess out of the stateroom and down onto the lower deck.
He yanked her to the end of the corridor and unlocked the door to his private cabin.
He shoved her inside, stepped in after her, and closed the door firmly.
Eve turned and looked at him, gasping now more with fear than anything else. Those burning eyes of hers struck terror in her hurt.
He looked her up and down impudently, and she noticed with a shudder a thick bulge tenting the crotch of his dress slacks.
"W-What do you want from me?" she managed to gasp.
Hank strode forward abruptly until he was standing in front of her. He reached down and grabbed her hand. Almost casually, he pressed her hand between his wide stretched legs, making her feel his hard, pulsating erection which throbbed mightily along his leg.
Eve gave a little shocked shriek, wrenching her hand loose, and made a mad dart for the door.
"You"re crazy!" she gasped, clutching for the handle.
A hard hand dug cruelly into her shoulder, spinning her roughly around.
With a grunt, Hank Dubloon swung his other hand, slapping her hard across the face, jerking her shocked face to one side.
He brought his hand back in another resounding slap which knocked Eve's head violently to the left.
She staggered forward, her head spinning, spots flickering before her eyes, her face stinging, her ears singing.
Hank reached out and dug his hands into the bodice of her expensive chiffon gown, gripping firmly to the bodice.
He gave a loud grunt and yanked down on the dress brutally. The delicate material was ripped into shreds, tearing the dress right down the front.
With several violent jerks, he rendered the remaining strands of material from her body.
Eve gave a weak scream, her head clearing, and she squeaked, "Y-You've torn my dress..."
Reaching out, Hank clapped his big, brutish hand about her throat and squeezed choking the words in her throat and making her face turn blue.
He jerked his face down next to hers and hissed into her grimacing features as she gave little strangled grunts of desperation, "You will not question anything I say or do! You will obey me explicitly, bitch, or you will pay dearly for the consequences!"
Abruptly, he released her throat. Eve gave a painful gasp, inhaling several lungs full of oxygen, her luscious womanly figure trembling uncontrollably.
Hank Dubloon's hot eyes raked up and down the nubile, partially unclad form of the gorgeous blonde millionairess. He grinned widely. It was not a pleasant grin; it made Eve shudder with fear as she stared at him, panting for breath.
Her full, thrusting, enormous breasts were completely bared. The heavy, crimson tipped ballooning knockers bobbed in the air as Eve shuddered and quailed before the massively muscular brute who stood before her.
He growled thickly and bent down, mashing his hard, hungry mouth against hers, kissing her hotly, his big, wet tongue probing deeply into her mouth, swabbing up her sweet saliva.
His big, calloused hands ran down her breasts, clutching and squeezing at them lustily.
He caught her hot, red nipples between his knuckles and began to squeeze and twist them as he kissed her.
He squeezed tighter and tighter, tugging the aching rivets of flesh away from her body and crushing them brutally with his fingers.
Eve's body jerked with pain, and she pushed feebly against Hank's chest.
With a bestial snarl of rage, he drew back, his eyes blazing with rage, and drew back his hand, gritting his teeth.
Eve cowered before him, whimpering desperately, "No! NO! I-I'll do what you want! Anything!"
Her head was swimming. Her fear was so strong it made her knees wobble. But a strange thing was happening. Her pussy was starting to get moist.
She was wearing a tight, gauzy pair of pink panties which sloped over the soft, downy hill of her lambent mons Veneris.
Roger released her hot tits, and they buoyantly bounced back into place, the rosy nipples erect as rivets and throbbing with mingled pain and pleasure.
Roger drew his hands down her sides and over her belly. He hooked his fingers in the elastic lining of her panties and yanked down hard, grunting with exertion.
The skimpy garment ripped like tissue, coming to pieces in his burly hands.
Eve gave a broken sob as she felt her delicate, petal soft thighs bared to the brute's savage whims.
Hank stared unabashedly down at her soft, golden fringed cunt. He saw the faint glitter of liquid in the delicate pubes and along the puckered pink lips, and grinned wolfishly.
He had been right about this slut. She was ripe for domination. She was ripe for initiation into servitude.
There was nothing Hank Dubloon liked more than to subdue and dominate extremely haughty, supercilious ladies who thought they were above everyone else.
He had had his eye on Eve Sedgewick for years. Like the aloof millionairess, Hank was not much of a socialite in the conventional sense.
He never attended parties, and the guests who were invited to his island resort were shrouded in mystery. No one knew what went on, on that island...
He had planned things carefully. He found out that Eve was making a rare appearance at an affair on a Friday, and would therefore be at her town estate for several days.
Immediately, he planned a party of his own on his private yacht, and easily managed to not only receive an invitation to the affair to be attended by Eve, but to also sit next to her at dinner.
Things had happened like clockwork. He grinned exultantly. His heart pounded in his chest with fierce, animalistic elation as he ogled the nude, quivering body of that icy bitch, Eve Sedgewick.
He saw the rank fear in her huge blue eyes. Reaching out, he tangled his hand in the thick, luxurious golden tresses, yanking her forward hard.
He kissed her on the mouth hard, and then jerked her head down, making her cry out as the hairs tore painfully at the roots.
"On your knees, bitch!" he ordered harshly.
With a broken sob of terror, Eve fell to her knees on the floor of the cabin. Her head was whirling, his grip was relentless on her hair.
"Unbuckle my belt and take down my pants, bitch!" he ordered thickly, yanking her head back cruelly and forcing her to look up into his lust enfevered face.
"Do it, slut, or you're gonna get hurt!" he growled menacingly.
With trembling fingers, Eve reached up and fumbled with the bronze buckle on his thick leather belt, shuddering as she unbuckled it.
She choked back a sigh, unhooking his fly. Then, with quivering fingers, she grasped hold of his cold zipper and drew it down.
Impatiently, Hank wrenched at her hair again.
"Take my pants down, bitch! But don't touch that jock strap or I'll slap your fuckin' face!"
Shuddering and whimpering, Eve tugged timorously at his dress slacks, pulling them down. Then dropped about his wide spread ankles, revealing his muscular, towering, tree trunk like legs, bristling with hairs.
A soiled jock strap cupped his crotch, but his enormous hard-on tented the jock outward, allowing several inches of the prodigious member to escape and throb against Hank's hard, hairy belly.
Impatiently, Hank kicked off his trousers, still wearing his natty black dress shoes and black socks.
He lifted one leg and snarled down at her, "See that shoe, bitch? I think the sole's a trifle dirty. Clean it!"
Evee frowned with a frightened, blank look, not comprehending what it was he wanted her to do.
He wrenched her hair savagely from side to side and roared, "LICK IT, SLUT! LICK MY FUCKIN' SHOE!"
He shoved the dazed, sobbing beauty down on her hands in knees in front of him and extended one of his patent leather shoes.
Her nostrils quivered as she inhaled the rich leather scent, and a strange trembling of desire disturbed her loins.
She puckered her lips, pressing them to the toe of the boot, and let her tongue slide out and lap over the shoe.
"Underneath, bitch!" Hank snarled, lifting his shoe and mashing the sole of it against her cheek rudely.
Eve shuddered, turning her head and letting her tongue glide wantonly up and down the underside of the shoe.
Dust and dirt came off on her tongue, causing her to gag somewhat, but a strange excitement had come over her, a need to obey his harsh commands, a need to allow herself to be subjected to his brutish desires.
She lapped and sucked at the shoe until it was sparkling clean. Then, he lifted his other foot and had her suck and lick it, too.
"Move up my body, bitch," he growled thickly, "I want to feel your sluttish tongue on every inch of my flesh!"
Shuddering, Eve crouched obediently at his feet, bending forward and kissing his ankle, moving slowly up to his knee, lapping and sucking. She darted her head down and gave the same treatment to his other lower leg.
She lapped his knees and heavily muscled calves until her tongue wriggled and strained around the bulge formed by Hank Dubloon's enormous, baseball sized balls contained within his jock.
As she lapped at him, he jerked off his tie and rapidly unbuttoned his dress shirt and coat.
He shrugged them off and stood before her, stark naked, his massively muscular, extremely hairy physique towering over her impressively.
"Stand up!" he ordered harshly.
Unsteadily, Eve got to her feet, shivering uncontrollably.
He bent down and kissed her rapaciously on the mouth, and then drew abruptly back.
"Lick my chest, slut! Get it good and clean!" he ordered thickly.
Sighing tremulously, Eve Sedgewick leaned forward, pressing her puckered rosy red lips against his collar bone, slowly gliding down over on of the immense, concrete hard slabs of his bulging pectoral muscles.
Her tongue and lips tangled in the thick, curly, dark hairs which coiled over his body like foliage.
She lapped and sucked at each of his hard brown paps and began to let her tongue slide over the ridged, hard plane of his hairy belly when he grabbed her suddenly by the head and wrenched her up again.
"You forgot my pits, slut!" he snarled evilly, lifting one arm and shoving her face rudely into his musky, sweaty pit.
The blasting heat of the pit made Eve shudder and gasp. Her tongue darted out, twisting around the damp tuft of hair there, and she inhaled and tasted the pungent scent of unwashed masculinity which coursed through her blood like an intoxicant.
"Now the other one!" Hank growled.
Eve serviced his hairy arm pits, and slid down, lapping his flaring lats and snaking her tongue across his washboard rippling belly, licking his navel, and giving a low sob as she bumped against the fat, knobby head of his cock which had forced its way out of the jock and was rubbing hotly against her cheek.
Gripping her hair again, Hank ordered thickly, "Lift my jock down around my balls and snap it beneath them!"
Gulping with mingled fear and excitement, Eve obeyed, snapping the jock beneath his huge, sweaty balls, lifting them impressively.
"Suck those nuts, cunt!"
Eve's head darted down without hesitation. She had abandoned herself to the bizarre situation.
She was no longer thinking rationally, or making desperate plans of escape. She was simply wrapped up in the conflicting sensations which ravaged her voluptuous twenty year old body.
Her tongue whisked over the hairy, wrinkly sac, feeling the thick, scum-filled balls contained within. Eve shuddered, savoring the musky flavor of his sex and inhaling his hot, pungent masculine aroma.
Greedily she sucked and lapped at his testicles, feeling them throb and grow tighter as she worked them over.
She thrust her tongue beneath his scrotum and wriggled it wantonly back and forth.
Hank gripped her by the hair once more, tilting her head back.
"Open your mouth wide!" he ordered thickly.
Eve whimpered, but obeyed, yawning her jaws as widely apart as she could, making her moist red lips form a delectable satiny 'O' shape.
With a grunt, Hank fisted his ten inch whanger and maneuvered the thick, pulpy, heart-shaped corona against her succulent lips and forced them apart, jerking her head forward cruelly.
Eve gave a startled, muffled squeal as the thick, heavy member forced its way into her mouth, flattening her tongue and scraping against the top of her mouth.
She shuddered as he began to brutally saw his hips back and forth, his twitching, rigid manhood squelching over the silky trench formed by her wiggling tongue.
Hank savagely slammed her face forward as he humped his hips back and forth.
Eve's eyes bulged and her face changed colors several times. She made a strangled attempt at a sound, but the entire length of his mammoth, ten inch truncheon had battered its way down her constricting throat and was now securely imbedded in her gullet.
Eve's puckered, swollen lips and dainty upturned nose were mashed against Hank Dubloon's sweaty, wiry pubes.
Her head spun. What was happening? Was this awesome brute of a man going to choke her on his horse-sized phallus??
It sure seemed as thought that was what he was trying to do!
Her eyes bulged. She began to see stars. There was a ringing in her ears.
She couldn't breathe! Her gullet and mouth were totally clogged by the brutal sadist's ten inch whanger.
Oh my God! she thought. Am I going to die like THIS? On my knees in the statesroom of a yacht, choked by a huge, thick slab of manmeat?
But as the tendrils of unconsciousness began to slowly wind their way around her mind, Hank Dubloon gave a grunt, relaxing his grip on her hair and drawing back so that about half of his truncheon slid out of her throat.
Hank grinned savagely down at her as the pretty, shuddering millionairess gulped down lungsful of oxygen, her lips still circled around his big beefy boner.
"Yeah, you slut! You're gonna learn to serve a real man! This is just the beginning!
Chapter Two
"Suck it, bitch! Take my big meat in your hot slut throat!" Hank growled thickly as he humped his hips back and forth, grunting like a bull in rut.
He slammed his big, pulsating, vein-latticed, mushroom-tipped honker deep into her slender, slick, constricted gullet again and again, and poor Eve Sedgewick's head spun with conflicting emotions as she forced herself to relax and take the big dick deep in her throat.
Instinctively, she reached up, running her hands over the hard, tense lobes of his hairy ass, feeling them pump back and forth lewdly, shuddering as the heavy pungent log of flesh and gristle on her tongue plowed in and out, in and out of her gulping throat.
Abruptly, Hank Dubloon stepped back, pushing her away from him. His eyes were gleaming and he had a sadistic smile on his ruggedly handsome features.
Staring at her with his mesmerizing eyes, he hauled off his jock strap. Crouching down, he grabbed up some of the torn strands of Eve Sedgewick's ruined gown and ripped them into shreds.
Eve winced as she watched the expensive garment reduced to tatters. But she dared not say a word. She sensed that he was daring her to protest, and she knew that any act of defiance on her part would be sorely punished.
She sat back on her haunches, quivering, chewing nervously on her lower lip, feeling both frightened and strangely serene.
"Stand up, bitch," Hank growled suddenly.
A quiver of apprehension wracked Eve's body, but she scrambled unsteadily to her feet, her large blue eyes moist and trembling.
Hank's hot dark eyes raked over her curvaceous, nubile young body, drinking in the sight of her ripe raspberry hued nipples, of her pale, creamy flesh, of the lambent triangle between her comely thighs.
He grinned savagely, pacing around her. He grabbed both her arms suddenly, twisting them behind her back.
Using the material torn from her gown, he bound her wrists firmly together.
Eve felt a surge of sudden panic as she found herself totally incapacitated.
"W-What are you doing?" she gasped.
Hank ignored her.
Crossing around in front of her again, he said casually, "Open your mouth."
Eve choked back a sob but tentatively allowed her dainty coral pink lips to part.
Reaching out, Hank clamped his hand around her jaw and squeezed brutally.
"OPEN WIDE, SLUT!" he roared thickly.
Eve gasped, yawning her jaws as far apart as they could go.
Instantly, Hank stuffed the soiled jock strap between her lips and began to wind several layers of the silken material from her gown around her face, forming a gag.
Eve's eyes bulged as she tried to make some frantic sounds of protest.
But her attempts were in vain.
She only succeeded in making a few incoherent squeaking noises.
The musky taste of the soiled jock filled her mouth, making her senses swirl with sudden lust.
Hank grinned, standing back to observe his handiwork.
He reached out, clamping his big hands around the large, pulpy lobes of her breasts and squeezing hard.
He snapped his forefingers and thumbs around the soft, protruding rivets of flesh that were her nipples and began to pinch harder and harder.
Eve's eyes bulged and she began to writhe, her face changing color several times as needles of sharp pain ricocheted through her body, setting her nerve endings on fire.
"Hurts, doesn't it, cunt?" Hank snarled, twisting her nipples viciously back and forth, drawing them several inches away from her body like silly putty.
Abruptly, he let them snap back into place, and watched the large, luscious lobes of her creamy, translucent tits bobble and quiver like bowls of jello.
He grabbed her shoulder and spun her unceremoniously around, shoving her towards the bed.
When she had stumbled up to the end of the bed, he pushed down on her shoulders, forcing her to her knees on the ground.
He strode to a cabinet, pullling it open, and came back with two objects. The first was a thick, studded leather collar, the kind made for a large dog. The other was a leash.
Deftly, Hank fastened the collar very tightly around Eve Sedgewick's slender white throat.
He attached the leash to the collar and drew it through the bars at the foot of the bed, yanking until the collar was almost choking the poor bound woman.
He tied it tightly, and she was rendered almost entirely helpless. She couldn't move.
She was squatting on her knees on the floor, her plump, firm buttocks bared, her throat tightly and cruelly constricted by the collar and leash.
Good Lord, what now? Eve groaned inwardly. But secretly, she was dying to find out.
She soon did.
Hank pulled his thick leather belt out of the loops of his pants, drawing it through his fingers reflectively as he observed the prone, trussed up slut at his feet.
His eyes burned with sadistic excitement.
He slowly wrapped the end of the belt around his big, meaty fist, and then, drew it back over his head.
He planted his legs wide apart, flexing the muscles in his big brawny body.
His eyes were fixed on Eve Sedgewick's quivering, helpless body.
He gritted his teeth, his face contorted in an expression of sinister excitement, his eyes blazing like a fiend's.
He grunted, air hissing from between his strong white teeth.
His body rippled as he brought his arm down in an arc.
The leather belt came whistling through the air.
It snapped loudly around the curved cheek of the left side of Eve Sedgewick's unsuspecting buttocks.
The thick leather lash bit deeply into the tender white flesh, raising an instant angry red welt.
Eve's body jerked violently, and she gave a gurgling squeal as pain ripped through her lower body.
Hank Dubloon gave a low cackle of excitement and brought the belt down again, and again, and again, grunting as he flailed the spoiled millionairess with all the might he could muster.
The leather belt crisscrossed her tender, squirming buns, leaving long red marks across her quivering, unblemished flesh.
Desperately, Eve tried to pull away, but she was rendered virtually immobile by the bonds which restrained her.
The pain was getting unbearable.
It was as if her buttocks were on fire.
CRACK! CRACK!! CRACK!!!
Again and again and again, the lash fell, slicing into her agonized, tender skin.
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she made thick, incoherent moans.
Her senses were spinning, and her body seemed to be burning all over.
But between her thighs, something warm and wet was happening.
She was aware of a tingling in her pussy.
Moist, itchy waves of excitement exploded through her loins each time the excruciatingly painful lash slashed into her throbbing buttocks.
"TAKE IT, SLUT! TAKE IT!" Hank roared mindlessly.
His big brawny body dripped with sweat.
His evil dark eyes blazed like a demon's.
His face was contorted in an ugly grimace of sadistic excitement.
He loved the way her body jerked and spasmed when he struck it.
He loved the muffled, gurgling squawks that emanated in her throat as she attempted to scream.
He loved the feeling of each blow running up his arm like a shock.
He closed his eyes and shuddered as he struck her again, dreaming of the exquisite horrors to which he might subject her, if he had the mind to.
He flailed the poor wench's butt till his arm grew tired.
Then, he tossed the belt away and stood over her, panting thickly.
After a while, he bent down and untied the leash from the bars in the bed and yanked it forward, dragging the trembling, sobbing millionairess across the room.
He flipped her over on her back and groped around in the cabinet for some more delectable items of torture.
Then, he straddled her waist, sitting on her lap and grinning wolfishly down at her tear-stained, horrified face.
He held two sinister looking metal clamps up before her eyes, slowly waving them back and forth.
Then, he placed them on the floor beside her.
Flexing his fingers, he reached down and snapped them around her left nipple firmly.
He slowly drew the nipple away from her body, digging his fingers together hard and twisting cruelly from side to side.
Eve arched her back, her face grimacing in pain.
With his free hand, he picked up one of the clamps, snapped it open and let it snap closed again about the stretched, tender nipple.
The ugly metal teeth bit deeply into her tender flesh, sending little explosions of sheer agony knifing through Eve's convulsing body.
Her eyes rolled up into her head and she made a series of frantic muffled shrieks.
Hank grinned and carefully pinched and tugged at her other nipple, stretching it and snagging it cruelly with the tight, fierce clamp.
The clamps made her nipples bloat outrageously at the tips, crimson puckered tears of flesh.
Scooting down, Hank stuck out his tongue and let the tip of it sluice around over the puckered tips of her agonized nipples, laving them lewdly.
With a grunt, he began to nibble at them with his strong white teeth, finally, beginning to bite them harder and harder until she writhed in fresh pain.
He slid his hands down her body, drawing them together between her thighs.
He roughly plucked at the puckered outer lips of her succulent labia, drawing them apart.
With a grunt, he poked two fingers into her quivering hole, brutally ramming his fist forward and driving the digits up all the way inside her tight, clenching tunnel.
"You're a hot, tight little bitch, aren't ya?" he snorted inanely, frigging her with gusto.
She did not - indeed, could not - reply.
His fingers squelched noisily in and out of her twitching hole as he continued to suckle and chew on her aching nubbins.
Eve tossed her head from side to side.
She was dizzy with pain, but mingled with these sensations of agony were ripples of extraordinary delight which cascaded through her body like lava, making her shudder and undulate her hips against his probing fingers.
Hank grinned.
Reaching down, he fisted his humongous horse-dick and stroked it lewdly.
He pulled his fingers out of the hot slut's hot slit and scrambled on top of her.
Eve's eyes bulged.
She felt the enormous, fistlike appendage squelch against her tender vaginal petals, pushing them aside.
The fat cockhead rammed against her tender cuntal notch and as Hank ruthlessly slammed his hips back and forth, Eve's tight, tender tunnel was split wide open.
His huge prick forced its way deep into the quivering glove-like interior of her satiny, furnace-hot pussy, battering up finally against her aching cervix.
Eve's body arched violently as the big, brutal stud inserted his ten inch whanger inside of her.
Hot explosions of pain ripped through her, almost causing her to lose consciousness. My Lord, it was unbearable!! It was as though he had split her open with his arm!
Hank grunted in satisfaction and began to hump into her hard.
He stared down into her face, watching as her face contorted in wild, desperate expressions of pain and disbelief.
He loved the way her big boobs flopped and bounced each time he slammed up inside of her clenching twat.
He undulated his hips lewdly, flexing his sex muscle deep in her sopping chasm, revelling in the sensation of having his huge whanger completely ensconced by her sweet honeyed furrow.
His big sweaty balls whipped up against her buns each time he pumped into her.
She was flattened painfully against the hard wooden floor of the yacht's statesroom.
The yacht occasionally tilted and creaked as a wave rocked it.
But Hank's cabin was virtually soundproof, and the sounds of the other guests were like the muted sounds of a parade far, far away.
Grunting and snorting like a wild beast, Hank fucked in and out, in and out of his female slut slave's quivering vortex.
Eve moaned, beginning to relax as his brutal rape was beginning to excite her lusty inner self and set her blood on fire.
Her hips were beginning to heave and churn as she bucked up against his mighty thrusts.
He read it in her eyes, and he grinned secretly. He'd make this hot slut squeal like a stuck pig again if it was the last thing he did!
Abruptly, he eased back, and his ten inch horsedick slid out of her pussy with a moist popping sound.
Quickly, he dug his thumbs into the tender, aching lobes of her lacerated buttocks and spread them wide.
Hunching forward, he sandwiched his big salami between the soft melons of flesh, fucking his hips forward until he felt the fat, wet knob bump against the tender, wrinkly notch of her asshole.
Then, clenching relentlessly to her waist, Hank gave a load grunt and sawed his pelvis mightily to and fro, pumping his big, wet pecker against her stubborn sphincter muscle.
It resisted briefly, but the lusty onslaught was just too much to withstand for long.
Finally, the big, tumescent boner spread her sphincter muscle wide and jammed its way half way up her seething colon.
Hank groaned in pleasure as the clenching, glove-like ring of her asshole snapped firmly about the middle of his steely, corrugated member, twitching in agony.
Eve's body was jerking and writhing violently. Her eyes were bugging out of her head and her face was turning every color of the rainbow as she attempted to screech in protest.
Hank grinned and pumped forward hard, sinking his barbed javelin to the core inside of her.
He grunted in satisfaction as he felt the entire length of his rock-hard column of flesh and gristle become ensconced by her satiny, furnace hot interior. Hell did that feel good!
He rolled his weight from side to side, flexing his big bat deep in her guts, grinning in prurient satisfaction, hammering his hips back and forth in short, savage strokes.
Then, he drew back until all but the head of his mighty horsedick was outside of her body and slammed the whole thing back in to the hilt with a powerful, body-wrenching thrust.
"Yeah! You got a hot, tight ass, cunt! Ripe for fuckin'!" Hank grunted thickly.
Hank began to ram in and out hard, driving his ten inch joint to the core in her sweet, clenching bowels.
"Think you're real hot stuff, don't ya, Miss Eve Sedgewick? La creme de la creme, huh?
You cock-teasin' slut! This is what happens to bitches who swish and tease but don't put out."
He was pounding her butt into a pulp now, sodomizing her with all the strength he could muster.
"I think I'm getting close to shooting my wad, bitch. You better get prepared to take it! YEAH! GET READY, YOU FILTHY LITTLE CUNT, YOU! GET READY TO TAKE MY ENORMOUS CUDGEL ALL THE WAY UP YOUR HOT TIGHT BUNS!!"
And she was! She was moaning and gasping through the pungent, sweaty jock strap which stuffed her mouth so obscenely.
Hank had gripped her beneath the knees and was bending her body forward until her legs were almost pressed to her shoulders.
He then looped her legs over his own shoulders and grabbed hold of her big boobs, squashing them in his fingers as he rammed his rod up her rectum relentlessly.
"TAKE IT, SLUT! TAKE MY RIPE, SPUNKY MANJUICE! YAAAAARRRGH!!" he roared vibrantly.
He shoved his big, flaming pole to the root up her tight, twitching rectum.
Eve gave a muffled sob as she felt his throbbing organ swell mightily inside of her.
She gasped as she felt him start to shoot.
Thick, searing gobs of white, creamy spunk fountained from his balls, spraying deeply into her guts.
The force of his ejaculation unwittingly triggered a response deep within the agonized, trussed up millionairess.
Her body jerked, her eyes flew open, she made little birdlike squeals.
Something flowered deliciously in her middle, and she started to come gloriously.
She came in her cunt, the moist, squirting libations flowing down her thighs.
She came in her ass, which twitched around and sucked at the pumping pole inside of it.
Her head spun and she sobbed with humiliated rapture.
Hank grinned as he stared down at her, continuing to hammer his hips back and forth hard, feeding her his big meatiness again and again, loving the way her rectum clutched at his spasming cock.
When he had emptied every last drop of jism into her bowels, Hank sat back with a grunt on his haunches, his shrinking dong squelching out of her with a moist popping sound.
He stood up, panting, and then with a grunt bent down and began to collect his clothes.
As Eve's senses started to clear, she saw that he was rapidly getting dressed again.
He seemed to be ignoring her completely.
Finally, completely garbed in his tuxedo and freshened up in the bathroom, he turned to go.
Eve made a frantic series of noises, attempting to scramble to her feet, beseeching him with her eyes to free her from her bonds.
He turned and grinned at her contemptuously.
"You aren't going anywhere, my fine blonde slut. I haven't had my fill of you, and until I have, you will remain my slave. I must now go and bid my guests farewell.. Then, I shall return and deal with you.
"Tomorrow morning, we set sail for Gorse Island."
The cabin door slammed shut hollowly, and Eve heard with despair the turn of a key in the lock.
She couldn't -believe what had happened! This filthy brute was kidnapping her! Who knows what horrors he was apt to subject her to in the future! My Lord, she might not get out of this horrible situation alive! He was some kind of a sadistic maniac!
Wild suppositions and fears swirled around in her head.
She had to get loose! She had to get away from this madman before he destroyed her!
She fiercely struggled with the bonds which cut into her delicate wrists.
But she only managed to make them bite even more cruelly into her flesh.
She finally was able to stagger to her feet, and her eyes roved around the room for some sharp object against which she might attempt to sever the bonds restraining her hands.
But the room was sparse and bare. The drawers were all locked, she discovered as she turned her back to them and attempted to pluck them open with her fingers.
She staggered into the bathroom, but she couldn't reach high enough to open the medicine cabinet, where she was sure she might find a razor.
A feeling of despair settled over her. She heard the sound of motor boats moving away from the ship as the guests were ferried back to the mainland, and the yacht rolled back and forth, making her feel almost sea-sick.
She staggered back into the room and over to the bed, falling dejectedly upon it, lying on the pillows and closing her eyes, choking back a sob.
She should never have come! Never again would she go to a strange affair by herself and with no escort.
Then she wondered about her chauffeur. Her heart leapt. Jules would wonder what was keeping her! He would surely inform the authorities and they would come and rescue her!!
Chapter Three
Eve Sedgewick's pathetic hopes that Jules, her chauffeur, would inform the authorities that she was missing were all in vain.
She had forgotten how very persuasive a man Hank Dubloon could be.
He had personally gone up to the chauffeur and amiably chatted with the man, telling him that his mistress had decided to stay the night on the yacht and wouldn't be needing his services any more.
Then, he had slipped an envelope with five crisp one hundred dollar bills in it in the delighted driver's hand.
Jules went away happy and without the least suspicion that anything was occurring other than an illicit sexual encounter between two of the glittering jet setters of the world.
Hank Dubloon's yacht, the "Jungle Empress", set sail early the next morning and headed toward the Caribbean.
Gorse Island, which Hank Dubloon owned, was a small green cylinder shaped piece of land about ten miles off the coast of the large island of Treisiella.
It would take the "Jungle Empress" several days to reach its destination.
"How long to you intend to keep me like this?" Eve said coldly on the second day.
She and her host were sitting on deck.
Hank had not touched or tortured her since that first evening, but she had been restrained almost all the time.
Now, her left wrist was handcuffed to a deck chair, but other than that, she was not tied up.
One of Hank's men had produced several outfits for Eve to wear.
He had put her in her own cabin, where she was free to move around - except that she was kept locked inside all night.
Now, Hank was sipping a tall pina colada, leaning back contentedly in his deck chair and staring over the horizon.
Eve's pina colada stood frosty and untouched in front of her.
Hank turned his arrogant dark eyes and stared at her.
"You know, my dear," he drawled, "I thought you were smart enough to realize that playing the arch bitch isn't going to work around here.
"You shall stay here until I am ready to let you go. And I don't know that I will ever be ready to release you. I need a queen for my isolated island. A woman who is a challenge. A woman with the kind of sparkle and flash that you have. And I sense that you require a man with a firm, brutal hand, a man with a touch of the beast in him, to satisfy your own dark whims."
Eve said nothing, but looked sulkily away from him. Deep down inside of her, however, a strange stirring was occuring.
"You are wondering why I haven't touched you since we put to sea," Hank said. "It's a sailor's superstition. Sex at sea can put a curse on a ship. I am saving our further exquisite pleasures for the dungeons of my castle on Gorse Island."
Eve shivered, because she heard the harsh rasp of sadistic excitement in his voice and felt the rake of his hot gaze over her body.
Her flesh ached from the brutal tortures to which it had been subjected on the night of the party.
She had been disturbed by strange dreams in the night, dreams in which huge, naked men with leather hoods had dragged her naked, battered body into a room full of bizarre torture instruments, and had tied her up to first one and then another and another...
She awakened from these nightmares in a cold sweat, but her pussy was always oozing with excitement, and her heart pounded with shameful lust...
Now, as she sat on the deck of the luxurious yacht and stared out at the lovely, peaceful ocean, a shimmering emerald green, the situation seemed almost unreal.
She was the only passenger on the ship other than Hank. The crew were large, muscular men, completely loyal to their boss. They were respectful to her, but they only attended her when Hank Dubloon asked them to.
Hank looked at Eve and said with a slow grin, "I see you are restless my dear."
Eve glanced at him coolly and said, "Long sea voyages were never a thrill to me."
Hank nodded and said, "Well, then, my dear, I'm going to tell you a story. A story which may help educate you. You will begin to understand the ramifications of becoming a guest of Gorse Island."
He settled back in his deck chair and asked, "Do you remember Viveca Sothby?"
Eve raised her eyebrows in mild surprise.
"Viveca Sothby? Oh, yes, of the Boston Sothbys. Wasn't she the unfortunate girl who was killed with her uncle in a plane crash a couple of years ago?"
"Her body, and the wreckage of the small plane, were never found," Hank said. "Her uncle's body was washed onto the shore of Treisiella a week later. The plane had engine trouble over the Caribbean and crash landed in the ocean about twenty miles from Gorse Island.
"Viveca was thrown clear, and clung to a bit of driftwood. Viveca Sothby, you see, is not dead, and it is her story which I am about to tell you. Listen carefully, my dear, and together, we will go back two years to the time when the lovely sixteen year old heiress was tossed into the angry ocean. Together, we will go into her consciousness and experience what she experienced..."
His voice was mesmerizing, haunting. Eve actually felt herself slipping into the story, as if she were seeing a film or reading a book. She felt almost voyeuristic as she found out what really happened to Viveca Sothby.
The girl gasped and sputtered, clinging tightly to the sodden shard of driftwood which was all that kept her tired young body from being pulled down into Davy Jones' locker.
Her lips were parched. Her honey blonde hair was wet and sodden like seaweed. Her pretty pink dress was a deadweight, hanging about her lithe sixteen year old body like a wet shroud.
She moaned, her head dully aching. She knew she wouldn't be able to hold on much longer.
Her arms were growing numb. The cold was cutting deeper and deeper into her. She could hardly cry out anymore, and had preserved her strength wisely.
She rested her face on her arm and looked blearily in front of her.
Water, as far as the eye could sea. Water, an ugly green, billowing wasteland. She had never felt so small, so inconsequential, in all her life.
She frowned. There was something else out there. A tall dark column thrusting through the green in the distance, shaded by mist, but distinct nonetheless.
A ship? Her heart leapt painfully. But she dared not hope. She kept her eyes trained on the dark object in the distance.
She couldn't tell if it was moving or not.
She forced herself to start kicking with her legs, propelling herself toward the obstacle on the horizon.
The currents were moving that way, luckily for Viveca Sothby, and she was carried quickly closer and closer.
The dark thing loomed bigger and bigger. It wasn't a ship, she realized. It was a structure, rising out of the water!
As she got nearer still, she saw the island, small and flat and green, upon which the structure was perched.
She blinked her eyes. Was she seeing things? The structure looked like a castle, an ancient, Medieval castle right out of the days of King Arthur!
Was this some kind of bizarre mirage? Desperately, she hoped it wasn't. She trembled, wondering if the sun and the exhaustion and the fear had combined to make her hallucinate.
But the huge, bizarre towers of the dark castle in the Caribbean loomed larger and larger in front of her, like a pair of giant buzzards perched on a boulder in the sea.
She was being washed ashore. She gave a low, dry sob of relief, and whooped as she felt her toes drag through sand.
She released the driftwood and floundered frantically forward. She was neckdeep, and she felt the tide trying to drag her back and claim her.
But doggedly, she struggled on, loving the feeling of sand oozing through her toes.
She staggered onto the white stretch of beach with a sob of joy, collapsing in a heap in exhaustion.
The hot sun felt good on her body. A sense of utter relief washed over her. Never had she felt so glad to be alive.
She lost consciousness soon afterwards, drifting into a deep, deep sleep. She did not hear the drone of a search plane about twenty minutes later, scanning the waters off Gorse Island for any signs of wreckage.
She did not hear the trudge of feet through the sand, or feel the dark shadow fall across her body.
She did not see the hulking brute of a man standing over her, glowering down at her with blazing gray eyes and an ugly, twisted smile on his simian features.
His name was Brutus, and it was an apt name for a brute. He was a hulking creature, more of a beast than a man. He stood six feet two inches in height, and his body was thickly muscled, bulging and hairy.
His head was squarish and bullet-shaped. His hair was reddish brown and cropped within an inch of his head.
His eyes were cold and narrowed and ice gray.
His nose had been broken several times in brawls. You would not have liked to see what happened to the men who were responsible for breaking his nose.
He wore no shirt, only a pair of tattered trousers cut off at the knees, bound about the middle by a length of coarse hemp. A glimmering dagger was hooked in this makeshift belt.
His features were coarse and reddened. He had stubble on his face like sandpaper, and there was an ugly twisting scar on his left cheek.
His gray eyes gleamed as he stared down at the lovely young miss in the sand.
Her hair fanned out away from her pretty, oval-shaped face.
Even in the exhausted, dishevelled condition she was in, there was no question that young Viveca Sothby was an immensely beautiful girl.
Her sodden, saturated dress clung to her lithe, willowy figure. Brutus watched the way her firm, thrusting breasts lifted and fell. The wet material outlined the turreting rivets of her rubbery nipples.
He felt a savage tug at his loins and licked his lips in excitement.
He would have liked to take her then and there. To rape her on the sand while she slept.
But Master would be displeased. He would bring her back to Master Dubloon, and he knew he would be richly rewarded.
He grinned cruelly. The expression on her sleeping face was one of exhausted relief.
But Brutus knew that soon she would be desperately wishing that she had been washed ashore on any other island in the Caribbean besides this one.
Gorse Island was different. It was an island of secret, dark passion, an island of horror and savagery. An island where guests arrived and never left...
Bending down, the immense brute easily lifted the young sixteen year old girl in his brawny arms and strode across the sand carrying his burden, like King Kong carrying Faye Wray.
Viveca stirred in her sleep. She felt strong arms around her, she felt herself being carried.
She sighed and snuggled against the powerful chest against which her head was resting. She felt secure as a child in its Daddy's embrace.
This brute was no gentle father, however. He was practically drooling as he gazed down into her sleeping face. His gray eyes burned with a frightening light, like the eyes of a wolf surveying a potential kill.
The crotch of his ragged pants bulged prominently, giving evidence of a huge, outrageously oversized penis.
Brutus had been a resident of Gorse Island for three years. Ever since he had been hired by Hank Dubloon as first a bodyguard and then, as a partner in his diabolical acts of sadism.
Brutus Grunch had been the subject of a sensational, shocking crime which made headlines across the nation.
The hulking, half-witted brute had raped and bludgeoned to death three comely lasses, sisters, who were driving home late from a college party.
The media had screamed for the electric chair for the heinous criminal, and the nation was shocked and outraged when Brutus Grunch was acquitted because of lack of evidence.
Hank Dubloon had moved quickly. As soon as the result of the trial was made public, Brutus was approached by one of Hank's lawyers and offered an extravagent sum of money to come work for the millionaire.
Brutus was dumb, but not too dumb to bystep an offer as good as this one. He had lost his job at the steel mill, and he had received death threats and was told he wouldn't be welcomed back in the tenement in which he had been living.
So, he hooked up secretly with Hank Dubloon.
Hank made use of Brutus for his own diabolical schemes. He taught the big brute to refine and channel his fierce sadistic aggressions.
Brutus was phenomenally well hung, and Hank enjoyed procuring delectable young virgins for the big brute to viciously defile while Hank watched with greedy, maniacal eyes.
Brutus became an extension of Hank Dubloon's overweening need to punish and inflict pain on lovely ladies, to make them bow to his perverse needs...
Brutus carried Viveca up the stairs to the great wooden door leading into the perfect replica of a castle.
He pushed the huge door open and carried Viveca inside.
The interior of the castle was dark and eerie, with clammy winding corridors, illuminated by torches.
Brutus carried the castaway down a winding corridor to a small barred door, which he opened with his foot.
Then, he carried her inside.
It was a tiny cell-like chamber. A small, hard cot was situated in one corner of the room.
In the other was a toilet, and beside that, a sink. There was a small barred window with a view of the sea.
Brutus lay Viveca's unconscious body on the cot and with his hamlike hands, jerked off her sodden dress.
He grunted and grinned imbecilically as he ogled the sight of the lovely sixteen year old heiress's nakedness.
Her body was smooth and sleek. Her breasts were delectable mounds of firm, resilient flesh, capped by sand dollar sized, strawberry-hued nipples.
Her waist was slender as an hour glass, her hips were slightly curved and sexy.
His hot gray eyes bore into the soft, lambent thatch of silky blonde hairs that lined the mound of her buttery mons Veneris.
Again, he felt a hot shudder of lust cut through him.
Only the stinging fear of his master's stopped him from ravaging the helpless waif while he had a chance.
Slavering and licking his thick lips, Brutus lumbered out of the cell, closing the door and turning the key in the lock.
Then, he broke into a lope as he went in search of his master...
Viveca stirred in her sleep, frowning and shivering. She felt cold. She drew her knees up and curled her arms closer about her. She felt her clammy, naked flesh.
She felt the hard cot beneath her. Slowly, almost reluctantly, she began to come out of the deep sleep which had encompassed her since she had been washed ashore.
Blearily, she opened her eyes and blinked them as she looked around.
She stared at a dark stone wall. She saw a small window with bars in it. She saw the cold ceramic bowl of a sink, and a toilet beside it. Where was she? A languid feeling of disorientation hung over her. She almost didn't care. She almost thought she was still asleep and dreaming.
There was a small wooden stool beside the sink. Hanging over the stool was a gossamer looking outfit, a negligee of sorts which was a pale pink and entirely transparent.
She glanced down and saw that she was naked. Her hair felt damp and heavy with salt, and she was shivering from cold.
Suddenly, it all came rushing back to her. The sound of the plane's propeller crunching to a halt... The horrible whine as the plane dipped and shot downward like a diving bird. The sickening feeling as they dropped like lead from the skies...
The frantic voices of the pilot and her uncle as they struggled to get control of the plane...
The feeling of paralysis which made her sit frozen in her seat, unable to scream or react as the dark ocean loomed closer and closer.
The impact... the violent jarring and rending sounds, the shouts of the men, the roaring splash of water...
She felt herself tumbling again through the air, as if in slow motion, and then, the ice cold fingers of water closed around her, tearing the breath from her lungs.
When she came up for air, she had bumped into the driftwood and clung to it.
In a daze, she had watched the tail of the plane lift in the air and slowly sink with a low bubbling, belching sound.
Viveca gave a low moan, sitting up on the edge of the bed, hugging herself close and taking several deep breaths.
At least she was alive! That horrible ordeal was over! Her uncle... No, she musn't think of that right now.
She was safe, and that was all that mattered.
She looked around her, and suddenly, a strange feeling that things weren't exactly as they should be ran through her.
The castle! She remembered it now! That bizarre, Medieval castle rising out of nowhere in the middle of the Caribbean!
She must be in it! Who had brought her here? Where were her clothes?
She looked around, but they were no where to be seen.
She was about to get up and try the door when there was the sound of a key turning in the lock, and it opened on its own accord.
An outlandishly garbed, Amazon-like woman appeared in the doorway, and Viveca gaped at her in great surprise.
The woman was at least six feet tall, and she was wearing spiked heels which made her a good six inches taller.
She had a lot of crimson hair, piled high on her head, making her seem even taller.
Her face was pinched and hawklike. She had almond-shaped, cold gray eyes, a thin acquiline nose, and full red lips which twisted into a sneer.
She was very buxom.
She was wearing a tight, extremely skimpy leather outfit. A leather jacket-like garment was stretched over her enormous, jutting, missile-like bosoms, but her midriff was bare. She wore skin tight black leather pants, and a thick belt covered with metal studs surrounded her waist.
Knee high leather boots with spiked heels donned her legs and feet.
Fingerless leather gloves covered her hands and upper arms, and her long, white fingers which stuck through the holes had nails like talons, painted a bright crimson.
Stuck in her belt was a coiled leather whip.
"W-Where am I?" Viveca gasped.
"This is Gorse Island," the woman said coldly,"and you are a guest of Hank Dubloon. Please put this on and come with me."
She nodded to the sheer negligee on" the stool.
Getting unsteadily to her feet, Viveca picked up the negligee and frowned.
"B-But this is completely transparent!" she gasped.
"Put it on! Come along, we haven't much time!" the woman ordered.
Something in her voice made Viveca feel she had to obey. She drew the sheer garment over her head. It fell lightly over her body, as if made from butterfly wings and spider webs, doing nothing to cloak her nudity.
She flushed and said, "Look, I'm Viveca Sothby. I was in a plane crash and I managed to get ashore. Has someone contacted the authorities? I'm sure my family is very worried."
The woman gave a short nod and said coldly, "That has all been taken care of. You must come along for an examination. You are not injured, I gather?"
Viveca shook her head. "No, I feel o.k. Just a bit shaken up and cold."
Viveca looked up at the immense, zoftig woman and asked, "Who are you?"
"Call me Magdalena," the red dominatrix answered coldly. "Come on. Mr. Dubloon does not like to be kept waiting."
Viveca followed the tall, bizarrely clad redhead into the hall, feeling more and more confused and disoriented.
This was downright bizarre! She stared incredulously around her at the dank, dark corridor, and at the primitive torches on the walls.
The loud clack-clacking of Magdalena's sharp heels on the flagstones echoed through the hall.
Viveca shivered, instinctively covering her loins and breasts with her hands, and called, "D-Do you think I could have something a bit more substantial to put on?"
Magdalena said coldly, "Yes, just come alone. You will be taken care of."
They arrived at a door at the end of the hall, and Magdalena pushed it open, standing aside and motioning for Viveca to go in first.
Viveca entered, and found herself in a huge, well-furnished den with a blazing fire in the grate and large animal skin rugs on the floor.
Several easy chairs were situated around the room, and a couch, and large bookcases lined the walls.
"Lie down on a rug by the fire, my dear," Magdalena said in a cold voice. "We will be right with you."
Then, she shut the door, leaving the sixteen year old blonde alone in the big warm room.
Viveca looked around for a telephone. This was getting pretty strange. What was going on here?
But there were no phones in the room, so she sighed and settled down on the rug in front of the crackling fire.
The warmth of the flames certainly felt good. They made her feel sleepy again. She curled up on the soft skin, resting her face on her hands, and closed her eyes.
The crackling fire soothed her and lulled her back to sleep.
She didn't hear the door open a few minutes later, admitting Hank Dubloon and Brutus Grunch.
Chapter Four
Hank Dubloon's eyes gleamed as he gazed down at the luscious blonde teenager who lay sprawled on the rug in front of the fire.
A savage grin spilled across his ruggedly handsome features.
"Well, well," he murmured, "what luscious tidbit has washed up on the shores of my little abode?"
He nodded to Brutus.
The big brawny lout grunted and squatted down. Quickly, Brutus drew the sleeping girl's hands behind her back and snapped a pair of manacles around her wrists.
Then, he drew a leather collar around her neck and fastened it tightly.
Done with this, he sat back and got up again.
Viveca stirred and frowned, trying to move her hands and feeling something cold arresting her movements.
She opened her eyes suddenly, and found herself staring up at two looming, massive men.
"You are Viveca Sothby," Hank Dubloon said in a booming voice as he stared down at her. "I am the master of this place. My name is Hank Dubloon."
Viveca sat up, and gave an alarmed cry when she found that her wrists had been fastened behind her back.
"What is the meaning of this?" she cried, her green eyes flashing with anger. "My father is a very important man! You are getting yourself in a lot of hot water!"
Hank's guffaw echoed through the room, and his cold gray stare blazed with contempt.
"You're a feisty little spoiled bitch, aren't you?" he said evenly. "But I'll break your spirit."
His eyes travelled up and down her naked body.
"Nobody knows that you are here besides myself and my followers," Hank said. "You are believed to be dead, in fact. I can, and will, keep you here for as long as I like."
Viveca's eyes widened in sudden fear, a chill rippling through her luscious young body as she glanced nervously from one man to the other.
Hank was a huge, burly brute of a man. He was wearing nothing but a pair of loose fitting, Eastern looking pants.
His big, brawny chest was bare and hairy and bursting with musculature.
Beside him, a huge, powerful-looking and very scary creature was standing. Viveca could almost feel Brutus Grunch's eyes tearing into her flesh. His look made her squirm with humiliation and abject terror.
Brutus, too, was wearing a pair of strange, baggy trousers, but his ended in rags about the knees and were fastened by a hemp rope about the waist. She shuddered as the saw the gleam of a deadly dagger in his belt.
"W-What do you want with me?" she gasped tremulously.
"Do you ever want to get away from this island?" Hank asked evenly.
Viveca nodded dumbly, whimpering softly.
"Then you must become my slave, and obey every command I give you. Until you are able to satisfactorily obey me, until you have learned to subject yourself to every whim and fancy I have, you will remain here. Is that clear?"
"P-Please..." Viveca whined pleadingly.
"IS THAT CLEAR?" Hank roared, his gray eyes flashing dangerously.
Viveca instantly quailed, huddling on the rug, round-eyed and trembling.
"Y-Yes..." she managed to squeak.
"Good!" Hank said with a grin.
He turned to Brutus.
"Brutus, take this slut to the dungeon and show her what we do to entertain our guests on Gorse Island!"
Brutus grinned wolfishly. It was not a pleasant grin.
He bent down and tangled his big, thick fingers in Viveca's hair, hauling her to her feet and practically tearing tufts of hair out by the roots.
Viveca gave a little shriek of pain.
Brutus strode toward the door, practically dragging the struggling, manacled blonde castaway after him.
He hauled her out into the hallway by the hair, and dragged her down the corridor toward a winding staircase leading down into the bowels of the castle.
Hank Dubloon's howls of laughter echoed after them, and Viveca sobbed in fear and shock. What was going to happen to her? Who were these crazy people??
Brutus did not let go of the painful grip he had on her hair, and practically dragged the poor girl down the stairs, though she begged him to slow down and not to clench her hair so tightly.
He completely ignored her, and she stumbled and whimpered and gasped as she tried to keep up with him, and desperately fought to keep from losing her balance on the treacherous stairwell.
The stairwell wound round and round, dropping into a deep dark dank pit. When they finally reached the bottom, it was cold and clammy and badly lit by a flickering torch.
Brutus stuck a key in the lock of a huge wooden door, turned it, and kicked the door open, dragging Viveca inside.
The wretched blonde sixteen year old gave a sob of fright and amazement as she stared around her.
She found herself in an immense cavern. The walls were covered with burning torches which cast large, flickering shadows over the room.
The huge floor space, the size of a football field, was covered with a series of bizarre looking contraptions, contraptions covered with chains and hooks and blades and nails.
The sight of them chilled Viveca to the bone.
She stared from these instruments of torture to the big hulking creature who had so unceremoniously dragged her into this cavern.
"Please don't hurt me, please, PLEASE!" she begged in a quavering voice.
Brutus shut the door behind him with a resounding clanging sound.
Mutely, he crossed to one wall and lifted a dark leather hood from a nail there, slipping it over his head so that only his hot gray eyes could be seen.
He strode back to where she stood shivering and ashen, her blood running cold.
Reaching out, he clamped both hands around the soft, thrusting mounds of her breasts, crushing them brutally through the thin, delicate material of her negligee.
Viveca gave a little cry of pain as his brutal fingers dug painfully into her flesh.
He grunted in bestial pleasure, wrenching her aching tits from side to side, feeling the firm, jutting nipples graze against his palms.
Then, he gripped hold of the negligee and yanked hard. The material ripped off of her like tissue paper.
She was now dressed only in the dog collar around her throat and the manacles about her wrists.
She was trembling like a leaf, too frightened to move.
Brutus' eyes narrowed to hungry slits. He liked it when they were scared. He could almost smell the fear in them.
He grinned behind his ominous hood. Then, he reached out abruptly and grabbed hold of her hair again, hauling her across the floor to one of the torture contraptions.
It was a sinister looking thing, a wooden bar with dull metal studs pointing upward along the edge, and a string attached to the bar, looping over a vertical wooden projection.
Brutus clamped his hands around her waist, lifting her suddenly in the air, and made her straddle the bar.
Viveca gave a few little frantic cries, too terrified to move. When he lowered her upon it, she found that the tips of her toes could touch the ground, just managing to keep the dully pointed nails projecting upward from the wooden bar from scraping over and pressing into the delicate, vulnerably spread lips of her quivering virginal vagina.
She shuddered in fear, straining to keep on tiptoes, little jerking sobs wracking her throat. Brutus grinned cruelly, and reached up, grabbing the string attached to the bar.
Slowly, diabolically, he pulled the string down.
Viveca screamed.
The metal studs bit cruelly into her flesh, sending stabs of pain cutting through her sensitized loins.
She squirmed and sobbed, but the more she moved, the deeper they bit into her flesh.
Tears streamed down her cheeks and she frantically begged Brutus to release her.
But he kept on applying pressure, loving the way she jerked and twisted and screeched in girlish agony.
Unknown to Viveca, Hank had made his way into the torture chamber through a side passageway, and was seated in a chair in the shadows, watching with greedy interest.
He had stripped off his trousers and was nude.
His rigid, ten inch pecker was thrusting straight up in the air and he was stroking it up and down, up and down.
Her screams were like an aphrodisiac to him, flowing through his blood like a narcotic, setting it on fire.
Brutus played with her on the machine for a while, and then hauled her down. He strapped her throbbing young tits to another devise which crushed them flat, making her screech even more.
He tied her nipples up, stretching them widely, with leather straps, and pressed her delicate little pussy against sharp metal edges and rough wooden poles.
But he was only toying with her, whetting the appetite of his barbaric master.
Hank strode out of the shadows suddenly.
"String her up, Brutus!" he ordered thickly.
Brutus grunted, lifting Viveca in the air again, sliding a rope through her manacles and drawing it over a pulley which was suspended from the roof.
With a few strong tugs, he hauled the sobbing blonde teenager into the air so that her nubile young body was dangling there, looking creamy and delectable in the honeyed light cast by the torches.
Hank strode to one of the walls where an assortment of whips and switches were neatly arranged.
With the eye of a connoisseur, he surveyed this neat display, and selected a thin, resilient birch rod which had yet to be used.
Cracking it smartly against the palm of his hand, he grinned as he felt the sharp smarting sensation slice through him.
Just what he wanted!
He strode to the spot where poor Viveca Sothby was suspended from the ceiling, her sweet, high, dimpled buns glowing in the torch light.
Hank wasted no time. He drew back his arm and brought the resilient rod whistling through the air.
It sliced into her plump, firm flesh, creating an instantaneous welt, and Viveca's shocked scream echoed through the cavernous chambers.
Her screams got shriller and shriller as he lustily whipped her ass again and again, lacerating her tender buns with the birch rod again and again.
The force of his blows made her writhing white body rock back and forth in the air, and she sobbed and begged for mercy.
But her cries merely urged him on to further sadistic acts. He whipped her harder and harder, the spittle spraying from between his clenched white teeth, his big, naked, brawny body glistening with sweat, his eyes blazing with voracious lust.
Brutus watched with bestial excitement, licking his lips and grunting in satisfaction.
The big lug undid the hemp around his middle and let his pants slide down about his feet.
He was wearing a strange, tightly fitting pair of leather underpants. A hole was cut at the crotch through which his gargantuan, horse-sized pecker thrust lustily.
Now, he had an outrageous hard-on. The mammoth, twelve inch sex tool thrust lewdly into the air, latticed with bulging red veins, a glistening pearl of pre-come wobbling on the tip of the swollen glans.
Brutus ran his sweaty hand up and down the length of the big tumescent organ as he ogled the sight of the weeping, wailing blonde beauty getting her ass whipped by his merciless, birch rod wielding master.
Hank whipped the hot young slut till his arm was too tired to move. By this time, her buttocks were striped with angry red marks, and she was sobbing uncontrollably, her eyes rolling like those of a wild, frightened animal. "Let her down!" Hank growled thickly. Brutus strode over to where he'd looped the end of the rope around a metal hook and untied it, unceremoniously dumping the sobbing, shuddering blonde in a heap on the cold dungeon floor.
He nodded for Brutus to come over and stand above her.
This Brutus did with alacrity, his twelve inch pole flopping lewdly in front of him like a flag pole stirring in the breeze.
Hank strode over and stood beside Brutus, staring down at Viveca's shivering, whimpering form.
"Do you want to be whipped again, my dear?" Hank asked in a voice like silk. "N-Nooooo!" she wailed.
"Then you'll do exactly as I say?"
"Y-Yes! A-Anything! Only, don't whip me! PLEASE, DON'T WHIP ME!" she gasped brokenly, sitting up on her knees and pleading with him pathetically.
He grinned at her contemptuously and then nodded at Brutus.
"O.K., slut. I want you to lick Brutus' big fuckin' cock. Let me see that hot little tongue of yours work that mean ramrod over real good!"
Viveca's tear-blurred eyes turned and focussed with some difficulty on the mammoth appendage which sprouted mightily from between Brutus' wide stretched legs.
When her vision had cleared, she gave a startled gasp as she gaped at the enormous ramrod.
Viveca had never seen an erect penis before, and one of this size was positively terrifying. She couldn't believe her eyes!
Reaching down, Brutus tangled his fingers in her hair and brutally yanked her forward.
"Lick his cock, slut," Hank said huskily, "or else I'll whip your naughty little ass once more!"
Chapter Five
Viveca whimpered in sudden fear. Her round green eyes stared up in mingled apprehension and shock at the enormous phallus which projected obscenely from between Brutus' wide spread legs.
She stared at the fat, reddish, mushroom-shaped knob. She stared at the puckered, oozing glans.
She stared at the fat, vein-latticed sides which throbbed visibly.
Good Lord, it looked gargantuan!!
Brutus reached down and grabbed a hank of her hair again, hauling her face forward brutally.
The fat, bobbing pole of his mighty truncheon waved in her face, looming up before her eyes like an apparation.
The hot, pungent scent of his manhood fanned in Viveca's quivering nostrils, and she found the aroma strangely scintillating.
"LICK IT, SLUT!" Hank roared, bringing the birch rod down across her tender buttocks sharply.
She gave a little scream of pain and leaned forward, puckering her lips and pressing them against the pulpy, heart-shaped head.
Her tongue darted out and swiped over the knobby corona, tasting the droplet of translucent pre-come which glistened there.
"Yeah, lick that big horse dick, slut! Lick it good!"
Viveca's tongue whisked rapidly to and fro across the tip of the cock, getting it wet and juicy.
She was finding that the taste wasn't as unpleasant as she had anticipated. In fact, it was strangely alluring.
She lapped and licked and sucked at Brutus' fistlike cockhead, and then slowly worked her way down to the huge, pulsating trunk.
Her pouting, moistened lips brushed back and forth across the throbbing, vein-latticed sides of the large, throbbing slab of manmeat, feathering it with her soft, small tongue, making the big stud grunt and shudder with lust.
Brutus' small beady eyes glistened with animalistic excitement and he smirked as he gazed down at the sight of the hot little sixteen year old slut slurping away at his fat prong.
He dug his fingers cruelly into her hair, moving her face up and down the length of his rod, loving the feeling of her satiny mouth against his bulbous prick.
"Now, suck it, slut!" Hank ordered hoarsely.
The millionaire sadist was crouched down, his dark eyes blazing as he watched the castaway girl lapping and laving at the brutish henchman's horsedick.
"Open your mouth as wide as you can, bitch, and take his cockhead inside!"
Brutus tightened his grip on Viveca's hair, sending needles of sharp pain cutting through her scalp.
She whimpered, and obeyed Hank's harsh command.
She yawned her jaws as wide apart as she could.
She stretched them until they felt as though they were about to snap.
But still, the fat, fist-like projection seemed to large for her dainty oral orifice to accommodate.
Impatiently, Brutus hauled her forward, mashing the pulpy tip between her circled lips, scraping against her teeth and forcing it into her mouth.
Viveca gave a strangled gurgling sound as she felt the enormous dick head slide over her curled tongue and mash against the roof of her mouth.
Her eyes bulged, her jaw ached. But she had taken it.
Brutus grunted in satisfaction, swirling his hips and twitching his big hard meat as he felt the warmth and wetness of her tight mouth encircle his mushroom-shaped crown.
He clamped both of his hands in a vise-like grip around the back of her head and dug his fingers in hard.
Then, he slowly began to ram his hips back and forth, at the same time forcefully jerking her face toward him with his hands.
Viveca's eyes bugged out even farther and her face turned several shades of green.
She couldn't believe what the brute was doing now!!
Inch after inch of the fat, thick horsedick was being force-fed into her aching mouth!
She was sure her jaws would snap.
She gave a muffled cry of protest, but almost instantly, her throat was stopped up by the thick, pulpy prick head.
With an impatient growl, Brutus steadied her jerking head and plowed forward with all his might.
Slowly, his enormously thick cock began to ram its way down the terrified, gagging girl's slender, constricting throat.
Her eyes were glazing over. Her face was blanched.
She was shuddering like a leaf in the wind.
She was beginning to see spots behind her eyes.
What was he DOING to her???
His gargantuan joint had stuffed its way down her throat, stretching her gullet wide as it drove in deeper and deeper and deeper still.
Finally, her little perky upturned nose and puckered red lips were mashed against the leather undershorts through which the fat log of flesh and gristle protruded.
The entire foot long cock meat was totally lodged in her aching mouth and throat.
Oh My God!! she thought desperately. I'm going to choke to death on this mammoth member!! I can't breathe, and my hands are tied!!
Her head was beginning to spin and she heard a dim ringing in her ears.
Just then, however, Brutus relaxed the grip on the back of her head and pulled back, drawing about half of his heavy, meaty phallus out of her aching throat.
She was able to suck down a painful lungful of badly needed oxygen, and gave a choked sob of relief.
But before she had time to say "Jack Robinson" he slammed that big heavy foot long sex tool to the root down her throat once more.
Brutus was making gutteral grunting and snorting sounds like a boar in rut, pumping his hips back and forth in savage, lusty thrusts, sliding his heavy root in and out, in and out, of Viveca Sothby's gulping gullet.
She soon was forced to regulate her breathing to the rhythm of his thrusts, and it didn't feel so uncomfortable anymore to have that impossibly gargantuan slab of manmeat slapping in and out of her distended oral orifice.
Moist squelching sounds accompanied the disappearance of the fat, long tool as it fucked in and out of Viveca's hot throat.
Brutus groaned and grunted in satisfaction, churning his hips, loving the feeling of the hot tight throat muscles swirling around his bulging member.
Viveca's throat felt warm and ached deliciously. It started to feel good to have that lusty tool pumping in and out so vigorously.
She started to suck at the fat base of the cock, whisking her tongue back and forth along the underside of Brutus' tool, feeling it jerk and spasm in excitement as she sucked and licked at it.
"UNH! UNH! UNH!" Brutus moaned thickly. "SUCK MY HUGE MEAT, YOU HOT LITTLE TRAMP!! YOU GONNA MAKE ME SHOOT MY GOOEY JISM!! YEAH! YEAH!! YEAH!!! YAAAARRRRRGH!"
He battered into her face mercilessly, practically ripping her hair out by the roots, plunging his pecker violently back and forth.
Finally, he pulled it back abruptly until the fat, pulpy knob was resting on her wriggling pink tongue.
Viveca's eyes grew bigger as she felt the cock grow thicker and bigger and hotter on her tongue.
Suddenly, Brutus started to ejaculate.
A huge, thick gob of steaming man juice catapulted up his tubes and hosed violently into Viveca's mouth, squirting over her tongue and against the back of her throat.
Gob after gob of the searing, pungent stuff jetted from Brutus' heavy, virile balls into the castaway's gulping mouth.
Viveca's senses whirled. She didn't know what this funny stuff was, but it sure tasted good! Salty and pungent and sexy.
She sucked and slurped greedily at Brutus' squirting member, quaffing every last drop of his heavy libations as they sprayed from his balls into her mouth.
Brutus groaned and shuddered, his big body heaving with carnal culmination, his eyes moist and bright like marbles, slobber oozing from the corners of his lips.
Hank Dubloon had been squatting down and watching closely the whole time.
The big dark-haired stud had seen his henchman's donkey-sized dong expand and vibrate as it shot its wad.
He had seen the way Viveca's flushed cheeks hollowed inward as she sucked.
He had watched her bloated, wet red lips curl and sluice around the fat prong wedged between them.
He saw the driblet of come which oozed out of the corner of her mouth and trickled down her comely neck.
All of this turned him on incredibly. He was slowly stroking his own ten inch whanger as he watched the hot captive slut suck off Brutus Grunch's foot long meatiness.
Brutus released Viveca's head with a gutteral grunt, and the gasping girl sat back on her haunches, breathing hard, her face flushed, tears glistening in her startled eyes.
Hank reached out and grabbed her by the shoulder, wrenching her around so that she was looking at him.
Without a word, he pushed her down on the cold flagstones, so that she was lying on her back.
Her hands were tied behind her and were painfully wedged between her and the floor.
His hot, coal-like eyes raked over her nubile, trembling form, moving from the succulent raspberry-red nubbins which capped her firm, pillowy breasts to her soft, sloping belly, to her lambent, triangular pubic bush.
He ran his hands down her body, digging his fingers tightly into her thighs and roughly pulling them apart, spreading her pouting pussy lips.
He ogled the glistening pink jewels of her virginal vagina, strumming his calloused thumb reflectively across the tiny button of her demure clitoris.
Viveca gave a little startled cry, her body bucking with unwitting excitement as electric charges of blinding pleasure flushed through her lower body.
What was he DOING down there? How come that felt so GOOD??
Hank grinned, and inserted his fat thumb in her, tight, clutching hole, which had grown all hot and moist while she had sucked off Brutus.
Lustily, he pumped his thumb in and out, in and out of her vaginal orifice, watching as she sighed and squirmed and whimpered from this touch.
He was slowly pumping his rock hard meat with his other hand.
Abruptly, he drew his thumb out of her tight twat and scrambled on top of her, his huge, hairy, brawny body looming over hers.
Viveca felt her knees get kicked wide apart, and stared up as the broad, hairy chest of her captive descended on her face.
She felt something huge and fat and sticky press against her puckered pussy lips, distending them and sliding up against her tight, narrow, unviolated vaginal chute.
A shock of terror cascaded through her as she realized what the brutish millionaire intended to do.
He was going to fuck her! He was going to put his big thing inside her and pump it around!!
And he was so BIG!!
She had caught a glimpse of the mammoth manmeat which sprouted between his muscular legs, and she shuddered in trepidation.
It wasn't as huge as Brutus', but it surely was a large whanger, and she knew it was going to hurt like the dickens.
How in the world could a man manage to put something that size inside of a girl's tight little hole??
She was shortly to find out...
Hank Dubloon wasted very little time. He planted his hands on either side of her body, raising himself in a push-up position above her.
His fat heart-shaped cock-head was wedged securely against the small, puckered notch of her cuntal chasm.
He tensed the muscles in his hard, hairy ass, and gritted his teeth, twisting his features in a diabolical grin.
Then, with a savage grunt, he lunged forward with all his might, the muscles in his arms and legs tensing as his pelvis slammed down on top of her.
The enormous prick stretched her tender snatch wide, plowing brutally inside her girlish chute, tearing down her hymenal walls as though they were made of tissue, hammering its way deeply inside of her agonized body until the fat tip mashed up against her cervix.
Viveca arched her back and her violent, echoing screams ricocheted off the walls of the cavernous chamber.
"NOOOOOOO!! T-TAKE IT OUT!!! OW^WWWWWWWW!! Y-YOU'RE KILLING ME!! AIEEEEEEEEEE!" she shrieked, tossing her blonde tresses from side to side in a frenzy of agony, her pretty face contorted, her body writhing like a frantic eel.
But Hank had her pinned to the ground with his huge, hulking, hard body, his ten inch truncheon skewering her middle.
He grunted in satisfaction, feeling the tightness of her heated, glove-like sheath encompassing and spasmodically milking at his thick, steely tool.
Hell, she was nice and tight! He began to lustily fuck the sobbing, agonized blonde, churning his powerful hips back and forth, his long, rigid boner squelching in and out of her satiny interior like a well-oiled piston.
Each time he slammed his horsedick up her sweet, clenching cunt, his big balls whipped up and slapped against her buttocks.
He stared down at her face, watching her scream and cry and beg him to stop. He watched the way her boobs flopped up and down and round and round as he slammed into her belly again and again.
He smiled diabolically. Yeah, he got off on that! He got off on the bitch's pain! That's what it was all about!
He twitched his big meaty rod inside of her, undulating his hips, humping back and forth, back and forth, his giant truncheon pumping into her faster and faster, harder and harder.
Through the haze of pain which obscured her vision and made her sob and writhe as if she were on fire, another sensation was making itself known.
Pleasure. A dark, billowing pleasure was seeping through her tender, ravaged pussy tunnel, coursing through her violated flesh, setting her lusty adolescent blood on fire.
Each time his big, hard rod plowed up inside of her now, a little electric explosion of carnal delight began to trickle through her loins, spreading through her body like lava.
Her screams died down, and she was moaning and whimpering and gasping now, tossing her; head back and forth, pumping her hips frantically up against the hard, brutal thrusts.
Hank grinned down at her and said huskily, "Like that, don't ya, slut? Like that big, thick cock slamming up between your hot legs, huh? That's what you're made for, cunt! You're a machine made for gettin' fucked! Yeah! Take it, slut! Take it!"
He was pounding into her harder and harder, and he could tell by the way his balls were twitching that it wouldn't be much longer before he would shoot a huge wad if he wasn't careful.
Over his shoulder, he saw that Brutus was standing there, watching the proceedings with glistening salacious eyes and a lewd grin.
The big, barbaric stud was pumping his pecker, which was hard again and throbbing lustily, saturated with Viveca's saliva.
Quickly, Hank grabbed tightly to Viveca's hips, skewering her all the way on his ten inch erection and holding himself inside of her tightly.
Then, with a grunt, he dragged her forward and rolled over on his back, pulling her on top of him so that she was straddling his hips and riding up and down on his upright tumescence.
He gripped her tightly by the hips and lifted and dropped her repeatedly on his hard, heated boner, watching as she writhed and groaned in mindless ecstasy, her luscious boobs bouncing up and down as she rode him.
He glanced at Brutus and smiled, nodding to him silently.
Brutus' eyes lit up and he grinned wolfishly, uttering a harsh excited guffaw, licking his lips hungrily.
Brutus lumbered forward and dropped down on his knees next to Viveca and Hank.
The big imbecilic lout watched the girl's lithe, willowy body twist and churn wantonly on top of Hank's hard, muscular physique.
Brutus' small piggish eyes were fixated on the high, dimpled orbs of Viveca's ass cheeks which quivered and bounced as she rose and dropped.
He reached out and gripped hold of the fleshy cheeks, squeezing them hard, kneading them in his strong, coarse fingers.
He dug his thumbs into the flesh and peeled the cheeks back, revealing the wrinkly, pink 'O' shaped circle of her tight, demure little anus.
Brutus' lewd grin widened, and he gave a little gutteral grunt of excitement.
He lumbered forward, straddling his master's legs so that he was facing Viveca from behind.
He ran his hands up her slender waist and reached around, gripping and squeezing her bobbing boobies.
Then, he fisted his big rod and hunched forward until the fat fist-like tip squeezed between the hot cheeks of her melon-smooth buttocks.
He squirmed forward until his moist, sticky cockhead mashed against the slick, winking maw to her rectal orifice, and then he gripped her tightly about the waist.
He felt the heat of her rectum clench around the tip of his glans, kindling his libidinal fires, especially as Viveca squirmed and bounced on Hank's cock, causing her asshole to wink and suck at the tip of Brutus' massive phallus.
He dug his hands hard into her waist and gritted his strong white teeth.
He uttered a bestial roar and heaved forward with all his might, shoving forward and upward, spearing her astonished guts on his twelve inch whanger.
For a brief instant her stubborn, clenching sphincter muscle resisted the savage onslaught.
But then, it stretched, and stretched, and stretched some more, as inch after inch of the enormous, equine member forced its way deeply inside of the girl's virginal colon, driving up into her guts.
White hot pain slammed through Viveca's bowels, as though someone had forced a flaming poker up her butt.
She gave a piercing shriek, desperately trying to squirm away from the huge obstacle which was being shoved up her aching, throbbing butt-hole.
But she couldn't move!
Brutus rammed forward hard until all twelve inches of his barbed lance were securely lodged inside her quivering, aching asshole.
He grunted in satisfaction, feeling her sphincter muscle snap securely around the base of his pulsating erection.
Then, he started to churn his hips vigorously back and forth, sliding his hefty meatiness in and out, in and out of her deep, oven-hot guts.
Hank Dubloon gazed up into Viveca's pain-contorted features and grinned savagely.
He continued to heave his hips up and down, ramming his hefty boner deep into her twitching pussy.
He could feel Brutus' mammoth ramrod through the thin, delicate membrane which separated the girl's two sexual passages, and as they two hulking studs began to savagely fuck the sobbing, ravaged sixteen year old blonde, their big, iron-hard boners slid in and out, rolling against one another lewdly inside of her hot, slick body.
Viveca's senses were reeling. Her loins and bowels were on fire.
She couldn't believe how stuffed she felt! Both of her tunnels were completely clogged by a combined twenty-two inches of rigid, heavy, hefty manmeat!
The logs of flesh and gristle continued to batter in and out of her ceaselessly, and through the pain the pleasure returned.
She was loving it. She loved the way those big meaty members slammed up inside of her so cruelly.
She liked the way the big studs mashed their muscular, sweaty bodies against hers.
She liked the way Brutus hands were digging so cruelly into her breasts, so that the flesh squelched between his knuckles and her aching nipples were flattened against his sweaty palms.
Her head was swimming in carnal delirium.
She sobbed in ecstasy, tossing back her head and churning her body violently back and forth, slamming her buttocks against Brutus' hard, hairy thighs and then mashing her pelvis down upon Hank Dubloon's pounding pecker.
The two hard, huge honkers wedged inside of her were too much for the comely, lusty sixteen year old blonde to withstand for long.
Strange things began to happen deep inside of her. A fluttering sensation coursed through her loins, building and building.
Then, she climaxed. Rockets and explosions tore through her writhing, twisting, bouncing, nubile girlish body.
She uttered a piercing shriek of utter delight, tears streaming down her cheeks as she came and came and came.
Her hot juices squirted unctuously around Hank Dubloon's pounding pecker.
Her tight, clenching sphincter muscle spasmed and convulsed and tugged at Brutus' hefty, plowing member.
The two men felt her starting to come and redoubled their efforts, manhandling her brutally, their breaths spraying from between their teeth in blasting grunts.
They hammered their big meaty peckers up her twitching orifices harder and harder, faster and faster.
Finally, they both roared like rutting bulls, jabbing their enormous, vein-etched truncheons deeply into her and spraying her full of their thick, hot, white juices.
The big, shrinking dongs squelched out of Viveca's aching orifices with moist popping sounds.
The two men clambered to their feet, panting hard, their massively muscular bodies glistening with sweat.
They stared down at the quivering, sobbing heap Viveca made on the floor.
Hank looked at Brutus and said huskily, "Get out the tit clamps."
Chapter Six
Eve Sedgewick stared at Hank Dubloon with cool green eyes, trying to seem undisturbed by the story he had just told her.
But his husky, mesmerizing voice, describing the torture and sex scenes in great detail, had sent quivering sensations of mingled fear and excitement coursing through her veins, and her heart was thumping hard.
"Am I supposed to believe that?" she asked.
Hank grinned at her and said evenly, "I never lie, Miss Sedgewick. Viveca Sothby is still a guest of mine on Gorse Island.
"After the first few weeks of initiation, she became addicted to the brutal treatment to which she was repeatedly subjected, begging me to allow her to remain as a slave.
"She has proved to be most amusing. I often lend her to my guests for their pleasure, and she and Brutus have lots of fun together when I'm away."
Eve stirred in her deck chair.
She had been trying to think of some plan of escape, but it seemed more and more evident that she was completely at the mercy of this devilishly handsome, horribly sadistic man.
There was something thrilling about being that helpless.
All her life, Eve Sedgewick had been accustomed to having everything she wanted, to having all her whims catered to instantly.
She had always been surrounded by sycophantic servants and by employees who would never even talk back to her, let alone tell her what to do.
The men she'd dated were invariably milk sops; guys who treated her with kid gloves, as if she were made of glass.
The novelty of being treated like chattel, of being dominated by a brutish, masculine man who could care less who she was and was using her for his own whims had a kind of a thrill to it.
But it was still frightening. And she certainly didn't want to end up like poor Viveca Sothby, a slave on remote Gorse Island for the rest of her days.
Hank stirred in his chair and lit a cigarette. Leaning over, he placed it between Eve Sedgewick's lips, his eyes smoldering like the match he held to a second cigarette which he lit for himself.
He dragged on it, blowing out a lungful of smoke, and then said huskily, "Let me tell you another story, my dear, the story of a restless rich young man. A young man with all the money he could ever want, and yet, a man who felt unfulfilled and hollow.
"That man was me. I was twenty-two and built like a brick shit house. I was incredibly handsome and a star football player at the Ivy League school I was attending.
"Girls flocked to me like flies to honey. But I was bored. And so were a couple of other guys in my dorm. We got drunk together a lot, and chatted about things in general. One thing led to the other, and we began to talk about fantasies, the more bizarre, the better. And from these fantasies emerged dark, frightening talks of bringing them to life, of actualizing the frustrations and needs we had kept pent up inside of us.
"One young girl became the unwitting victim of our beer-induced plotting. A lovely, leggy blonde of seventeen, walking to the library on campus one night, unaware that a nightmare was about to begin..."
Sheila Loveland looked nervously over her shoulder. She didn't know why she felt so creepy tonight. Every little sound made her jump.
It was a limpid, dark night. The moon was full, a heavy, white circle in the heavens, surrounded by sharp glittering stars.
The large, gothic campus looked dark and haunted, the towering buildings looming up in the night like menacing shadows.
It was autumn, and the leaves had fallen from the trees, so their branches scraped back and forth nakedly, like hooked, gnarled claws against the cold light of the moon.
Sheila gathered her sweater closer about her shoulders and shivered, shifting the pile of books she was carrying from one hand to the other.
She was a lovely girl of seventeen. Her hair was a dusky honey blonde and hung in long, curling strands below her shoulders.
It framed a delicately hewn, oval-shaped face with large, long-lashed hazel eyes, a small button of a nose and full, crimson-red lips, sensuous and ripe for kissing.
She had a terrific figure. Her jutting breasts lifted her sweater and blouse invitingly, and bounced as she moved, jiggling in the breeze.
She had a slender waist and slightly curving hips.
Her skirt ended shockingly close to her thighs, and her long legs were bare and lithe and sexy looking, even at night.
She was wearing high heels, and they clicked on the sidewalk, the only sounds to be heard, other than the strange rustlings of the night which disturbed Sheila and made her skin crawl.
She didn't like this walk from her dorm room to the library, and she very rarely traversed the campus this late at night.
But tonight, she simply had to study for a chemistry test which was to be given on the following morning. She couldn't fail this test, or she'd flunk the course.
The girls in the room next to hers had been giving a party, and they were so noisy she couldn't concentrate.
Finally, fed up, she had gathered up her books and stalked out of the dorm and made her way toward the library.
Now, Sheila realized why she usually made sure not to go out on campus late at night without a companion.
It was pretty deserted, and badly lit, and it was a long, winding walk through a dark grove of trees before one got to the library.
For some reason, things seemed darker and creepier tonight. Sheila shivered and increased her pace. She felt scared all of a sudden, as if creatures of the night were watching her from the shadows.
What was that? She jerked her head to the left nervously. She thought she heard the crackle of a dry twig near at behind.
But all she could see was the shadows, and silence had settled on the campus like a blanket.
She started walking faster, and her prickling ears kept on hearing strange noises, first to her left, then to her right.
She thought she saw a large black shape glide behind a tree out of the corner of one of her eyes.
Oh, you're just being paranoid! she said to herself in exasperation, increasing her pace.
She took a deep breath and started to relax.
That's when it happened.
Swift as lightning, three dark shapes converged upon the nervous but unsuspecting coed.
A strong, hard, be-gloved hand clapped roughly around her mouth and she was jerked back against a powerfully built shape.
Sheila's arm was twisted painfully behind her back and a voice hissed in her ear in a deadly whisper, "Don't struggle, bitch, or you're dead!"
Sheila was paralyzed with fear. She almost seemed to be looking at the scene from far away. She couldn't move, and was so terrified she stood there rigidly in the menacing stranger's arms, completely at his mercy.
The other two men grabbed hold of her, too, and she was dragged and hustled along to a spot near by where a car was waiting.
Two men forced her into the backseat with them, while the other two guys hopped in the front of the Chevy and started it up.
The car sped along through the dark, bumping down a rough dirt road which led away from the campus toward the lake.
Her blood was like ice. Her heart was in her throat. One of the men had wrapped dark tape around her face, gagging her mouth.
She was too terrified to scream.
She managed to steal a glance at the shapes of the two men on either side of her.
They were dressed entirely in black, and dark hoods covered their faces, with slits for eyes.
None of the men talked among themselves. Each of the guys in the back seat held tightly to one of Sheila's arms.
The Chevy drove down by the still, glassy lake and came to a stop beside a dark shack.
It was a deserted structure which once had served as the dressing room for the college's crew.
Newer accommodations on the other side of the lake had supplanted these more primitive ones, and they were now not being used.
The men scrambled out of the car, dragging the horrified, paralyzed blonde with them.
They forced her in front of them to the shack, and one of them opened the door, and they shoved her inside.
When all four abductors had followed Sheila into the shack, they shut the door firmly, and someone struck a match.
Several lanterns were lit, and these were suspended from the ceiling, casting long golden swathes of light across the dark murky shadows.
Sheila was standing in the middle of the room, bathed in the flickering light from the lanterns.
The four brawny masked men surrounded her. She could see their eyes glittering through the slits in their masks.
One of the men, a hulking monster of a man, strode forward and reached out, grabbing hold of her blouse.
With one brutal movement, he ripped the front of it off, baring her breasts. Her luscious, ripe tits sprang free like bouncing, jiggling melons, capped by orange, succulent, sand-dollar sized nipples.
Sheila gave a gurgling sob of fear, jumping back as he ripped her blouse, her big hazel eyes fearfully begging for mercy.
Another man came up behind her and grabbed her arms. She gave a little muffled shriek through the tape which covered her mouth, and tried weakly to break loose.
The man in front of her drew a knife. He held it in front of her face. The lantern light flickered on the cold, sharp steel.
Horror cut through Sheila's body in icy waves. She saw her life flash before her eyes. Was he going to cut her? Was she going to be murdered???
The big stud stepped forward, teasingly weaving the knife back and forth in front of her face. He brought to blade down, laying the cold flat edge of it against one of the trembling lobes of her breasts, and then against the other.
She gave a choking sob of fear, trembling uncontrollably.
He reached down, hooking his fingers in the belt line of her skirt, tugging it away from her body.
Slowly, he slid the blade down, slipping it between her flesh and the material of her skirt.
With a violent jerking motion toward himself, he sliced through the skirt, rending the material into shreds as he cut downward.
The skirt fell in a heap on the floor at Sheila's feet.
She was wearing just a pair of pink, frilly panties now.
The big masked man crouched down, running his hands slowly up the insides of her thighs.
Sheila shuddered, feeling the cold blade glide along her trembling flesh and slip beneath the elastic of her skimpy panties.
She sobbed as she felt him jerk his hand upward, slicing through the elastic and ripping her panties into two shreds of silk.
They fluttered to the floor, and she was naked.
Her luscious, naked, creamy white body gleamed in the lantern light.
Between her thighs, a golden triangle of soft down lined the pouting lips of her pink, sweet vagina.
The masked man stripped off his gloves. His hands were big and powerful. He reached out and ran his fingers over the front of her trembling, naked body, squeezing and kneading the soft, pillowy hills of her knockers, catching the nipples between his knuckles and wrenching them back and forth lewdly.
The man who was holding her arms was grinding his groin against her trembling ass.
Sheila shuddered, feeling the outline of his rock hard penis throbbing through the tight, skin-clinging leotards which each stud wore.
The four men were all jocks from the football team. Hank Dubloon was the leader. Ian, who was holding Sheila, was a big black stud. Riff, a tall, lean blue eyed guy, and Otis, a hulking six foot three inch Okie, watched from the side lines, their eyes gleaming with lust.
All four jocks had consumed more than their share of booze and grass that evening.
They had talked about nabbing an unsuspecting chick and raping her ritualistically, but it wasn't until that evening that they had decided, in a drunken wave of uninhibited passion, to carry out their plans.
They had pulled on black leotards and dark sneakers, black sweaters and hoods made out of black sacks.
Now, they had a beautiful, terrified blonde chick at their mercy, and all four jocks was horny as hell, and the feeling of power which burned in their alcohol-soaked blood was incredible.
Standing in front of Sheila, Hank gathered up his sweater and carefully pulled it over his head, making sure not to disturb the mask which obscured his features.
His chest was massively muscular, and he had broad shoulders and bulging, cantaloupe sized biceps.
His pectoral slabs were like slopes of concrete, densely covered with whorls of dark, silky hair.
He had a rippling, washboard belly. Even though she was so consumed with fear she couldn't move, Sheila was dimly aware of how brawny and attractive this cruel kidnapper was.
Hank hooked his fingers in the elastic of his leotards, and in one deft, swift movement, drew them down, after kicking off his sneakers, and stood naked before the gagged, shuddering girl.
His rock-hard, ten inch pecker thrust impudently upward from a thick patch of dark pubes. His large, swinging, baseball-sized balls dangled virilely beneath.
He held the knife up in front of Sheila's huge, frightened eyes.
"You're gonna get fucked, bitch. You're gonna get fucked like you never been fucked before. And you're gonna like it!"
Chapter Seven
Hank's hands slid down the girl's rigid trembling back as he crushed her soft, pliant body against his big brawny physique.
His heavily muscled, hairy chest mashed her tits flat, and he dug his fingers into her high, dimpled buns, squeezing them hard.
Slowly, lasciviously, he humped his hips to and fro, sliding his huge, rigid cock between their bellies.
Sheila gave a muffled sob, feeling the heavy dong sandwiched between their stomachs, her head dizzy with conflicting emotions.
There were sounds coming from behind them as Riff and Otis stripped to the skin, leaving their masks on only.
The two studs strode forward into the light. Riff had a lean, streamlined body, smooth and deeply tanned. Soft tufts of light brown hair surrounded his thick, pulsating eight inch cock.
Otis was a truly massive individual. Towering over the others at six foot three, he weighed two hundred and fifty pounds of solid muscle.
His brawny chest was huge, with great pectoral slabs and fanning lats, a tapered, solid waistline and massively thick thighs.
From between his legs sprouted a humongous, king-sized tool, a foot long and gnarled with pulsating bluish veins.
Riff and Otis came forward and each of them grabbed one of Sheila's arms. Ian released her then, and began to strip down, too.
The two brawny studs forced Sheila to lie down on the cold, dusty floor, squatting down and holding her down.
Hank straddled her waist and sat on her belly.
He fisted his fat ramrod and began to lewdly slap it back and forth, whacking her tits with the hefty meatiness.
He sandwiched the thick horsedick between the succulent, satiny globes of her knockers and squeezed them together.
Slowly, lasciviously, he began to fuck her cleavage, punching his long, thick dick back and forth.
He snapped his fingers around the tips of her throbbing, crimson nipples and squeezed harder and harder, twisting and plucking the rivets of flesh away from Sheila's body.
Sheila arched her back as needles of pain sliced through her tits, little dry sobs rasping in her throat, tears stinging her eyes.
Her senses were reeling. She was no longer thinking rationally. She was just riding along on the waves of sensation which crashed through her trembling, vulnerable body.
Ian strode forward, stark naked. He had a tall, muscular body, and in the honeyed lantern light it glowed tawnily like polished mahogany.
His nine inch pecker thrust out in front of him meatily, a purplish, incredibly thick staff with a fat, pulpy knob.
Ian dropped down on his knees, kicking Sheila's legs apart. He ran his strong black hands up her trembling thighs and stuck his thick fingers into the deep, tight cleft of her vagina.
He squelched his fingers between the soft, delicate petals of her labia, poking two fingers into the chasm.
Then, he wormed his wrist back and forth hard, jabbing his hand forward until two fingers slid all the way up inside of her.
He felt Sheila's body jerk as sharp pains cut through her. Savagely, the black stud rammed his hand back and forth, back and forth, frigging her with his thick, long fingers.
He inserted a third finger, and finally, a forth, fucking her hot, tight twat with them until her body was writhing and jerking in response.
Sheila felt sharp pains shooting through her loins as she was brutally frigged by the black stud.
But through the pain a wave of unwitting, illicit pleasure was beginning to seep, sweeping through her, making the walls of her tight, constricting vagina grow moister and hotter.
Soon, Ian's fingers were squelching in and out of her hot, tight tunnel.
Otis leaned over and grabbed a coil of rope which was lying on the floor nearby.
He quickly lashed the end of it around Sheila's wrist. Standing up, he tied the rope about a metal clasp on the wall and used a knife to slice through the excess rope, which he tossed to Riff. Riff did the same with Sheila's other wrist, so she was bound by the hands to the walls of the shack.
Hank clambered off of her, and Otis scrambled forward. He reached down, grabbing the tape which covered her mouth.
Otis said in a deep, menacing voice, "You make one sound when I take this tape off, slut, and you're dead!"
He ripped the tape off roughly, and Sheila winced, choking back a sob, her face white as a sheet.
The hulking, six foot three athlete straddled her head and slowly lowered his hefty, baseball sized balls toward her face.
"Suck my balls, slut! Suck those fuckin' nuts!" he ordered thickly.
Sheila looked up at the huge, wrinkly, hairy nuts which were coming swiftly down upon her face.
Swiftly, she tilted her head back and puckered her lips. She realized that the best thing for her to do at this point was to cooperate. The sooner she got these rapists' balls off the better.
The sweaty testicles pressed down on her soft, sensuous lips and she nibbled and sucked at them hungrily. His hot, pungent, masculine aroma and flavor made her head spin, and unwittingly, she felt a flush of excitement course through her.
She shot out her tongue, laving it back and forth across each testicle, feeling them tighten and thicken with spunk as she sucked and licked at them.
She dipped her tongue beneath the scrotum and whisked it back and forth.
Otis gave a husky moan of satisfaction, mashing his big wet balls down on her face lewdly and pumping his hefty foot long pecker with his hand.
"Yeah, lick 'em good, slut! Lick 'em!" he grunted thickly.
Riff and Hank bent down on either side of the hot, trembling slut. They each grabbed hold of one of her ballooning breasts, manipulating it between their fingers, scraping their thumbs over the turreting nipples.
Hank bent down and sucked the ripe nipple in his mouth. Riff did the same. The two jocks began to suck avidly at the kidnapped, trussed up girl's nubbins, flailing their tongues back and forth as they tasted her sweet, feminine flesh.
Otis fisted his fat, thick boner and hunched down, sliding a hand beneath Sheila's head.
He jerked her head up and said huskily, "O.K., slut, now suck my dick! And suck it good!"
Sheila gazed fearfully at the bat-sized prong which he twisted down until it was pointing into her face. It was the biggest cock she had ever laid eyes on!!
With a little whimper, she parted her succulent, juicy lips, opening her jaws as wide as she could.
She gave a strangled gasp as Otis quickly inserted the fat, drooling tip of his cock between her teeth, digging his finger cruelly into her hair, and began to pump his hefty boner in and out of her mouth.
His cock was so big he could only fit the first couple of inches of it inside of her mouth.
But Otis liked the way her lips curled around his throbbing dickhead. He twitched his big truncheon in her mouth, loving the way her tongue swirled around his pulpy corona, dipping into his piss slit and whisking away the pre-come that oozed from it.
Ian and Hank took this as a cue to begin to get a little rough. They bit down hard on the poor, unsuspecting slut's bulbous nipples, chomping the aching rivets of flesh hard, worrying. them back and forth and tugging them away from her body.
Hot rushes of pain coursed through her as the studs chewed on her nipples cruelly, their strong teeth nearly drawing blood.
Her eyes bulged and she made strangled attempts to scream, but Otis' massive mauler clogged her mouth, and she had enough trouble regulating her breathing with his lusty thrusts.
Ian slid down Sheila's body while his buddies took care of her tits and mouth. He blew hot air on. the soft lambent fuzz which lined her pouting mons.
He thrust out his tongue and laved her hot cunt, sliding his tongue between the tender folds of flesh and tasting her sweet feminine flavors.
He ferreted out her clitoris with the tip of his tongue and strummed it, feeling her body jerk and writhe in response.
As he sucked her pussy, he pumped his fist up and down the length of his rigid ten inch black prong, getting it good and hard.
He sat up suddenly, his eyes gleaming through the slits in his mask.
He gripped hold of Sheila's legs, spreading them wide, exposing the glistening jewels of her pink inner vaginal area.
Hunching his tight ass forward, he guided the thick, fat mushroom-shaped knob between the soft, delicate folds of her vaginal lips.
He sighed as he felt the succulent mouth to her love tunnel clutch the purplish dickmeat, and dug his fingers into her sides hard.
With a grunt of salacious desire, Ian rammed his hips forward with all his might.
His ten inch penis slammed up inside of Sheila's moist, quivering thighs, squelching deeply inside of her until the fat crown battered against her cervix.
Sheila arched her back, her eyes bulging, her face changing colors rapidly as an explosion of agony tore through her loins.
The brutal black jock had rammed his enormous cudgel up inside of her with one powerful stroke, stretching her creamy cuntal walls impossibly, stuffing her chock full of his heavy, pulsating manmeat.
Ian grunted and said huskily, "Shit, she's tight and hot up there!"
He began to slam his pelvis lustily up and down, skewering her on his huge, pungent ramrod, fucking her as hard and fast as he could.
Riff and Hank released her tits and scooted up so that they were on either side of her head, watching as Otis force-fed her his big meaty member.
They jerked on their own hefty peckers as they watched.
Otis drew back suddenly, and his huge twelve inch ramrod smacked up against his belly with a moist popping sound, gleaming with Sheila's saliva.
Sheila coughed and gave a sobbing moan as Ian continued to drive his big black dick in and out of her tormented pussy with sledgehammer strokes.
Riff and Hank shuffled forward, pushing their fat, thick peckers over Sheila's wet lips, rubbing the hefty prongs against her soft, sensuous mouth.
"Lick these dicks, slut! Lick 'em good!" Hank ordered thickly.
Sheila moaned, but obediently swished out her tongue, darting it back and forth, stroking the tip of first one fat cock and then the other.
Her hot, whisking tongue flailed seductively over the bloated glans of each dick, and as Otis pushed his huge member down again, she was taking turns licking all three dicks at once.
The men watched as her hot tongue and puckered, crimson lips wantonly swirled over their hefty members, and their bellies tightened with lust.
Ian pulled back suddenly, sliding his huge, dripping pecker out of her quivering pussy chasm. It whipped up against" his belly moistly. He was panting with lust, his dark muscular body gleaming with sweat.
Otis gave a grunt, moving down until he was crouched on his knees between Sheila's legs.
"I'm gonna plug the bitch's asshole," the big, dumb Okie said thickly.
He grabbed Sheila's legs beneath the knees and roughly shoved them forward.
In order to help him, Ian grabbed one of her ankles while Riff grabbed the other, and they bent the blonde beauty's body forward.
Otis dug his thumbs into the soft, smooth lobes of her buttocks, slowly peeling them back to reveal the quivering pink rosette of her delicate, unviolated anus.
It was small and wrinkly and red.
Otis grinned wolfishly behind his mask and hefted up his enormous foot long truncheon, guiding it forward until the fat, wet tip mashed up against the tiny orifice.
His cock was truly gargantuan, and properly belonged on a horse or a donkey. He mashed it tightly against the opening to her rectum and bent forward, bracing himself by planting his hands on the floor on either side of the trussed up helpless girl.
"She's gonna scream when I fuck her ass," he said huskily, "so you better gag the bitch!"
Hank grabbed up the tattered remains of Sheila's panties and leaned forward.
"Open your mouth, slut!" he ordered thickly.
Choking back a terrified sob, Sheila opened her mouth. He forced the wadded material inside, and taped her mouth shut again.
Sheila's eyes rolled back and forth in terror. She felt the pressure of Otis' mammoth mauler against her rectal orifice.
It felt as though he were punching his fist against her rectum. She couldn't believe how impossibly enormous it felt. Cold terror turned her veins to ice, and her senses whirled.
Otis gave a low, lewd guffaw, tensing the muscles in his big, bull-like body, and grunted thickly as he humped his pelvis forward hard.
Briefly, her tender, clenching sphincter muscle resisted the huge object which attempted to ram its way inside of her virginal bunghole.
But finally, it gave way and stretched and stretched and stretched to accommodate the enormous proportions of the incredibly over-sized tool.
Sheila's head jerked forward, her eyes bugging violently, her face turning beet red and then chalk white. She made horrible noises in her throat as she tried to scream, her body writhing and bucking violently.
Otis grunted as he felt the tight, sheath-like silkiness of her hot, clenching rectum squelch around his big, rock-hard root.
He pumped his hips forward hard, ramming inch after inch of his pecker deep into her guts until his wiry pubes were mashed against her translucent buttocks.
He groaned in satisfaction, feeling the incredibly stretched sphincter muscle snap snugly around the base of his pulsating, enormous truncheon. All twelve inches were encompassed by the satiny insides of her trembling body.
He humped his body back, letting about half of his cock slide moistly out, and then pounded forward hard, slamming up to the hilt inside of her once more.
Sheila's body jerked forward as he pounded into her, and she gave another strangled shriek.
Otis grunted in pleasure, fucking his hips back and forth, his big muscular body gleaming with sweat.
"Yeah! She's got a hot, tight fuckin' ass! Real hot and tight! I think I'm gonna shoot my wad up this hot bitch's guts!"
He began to pound into her lustily, ramming his mauler in and out, in and out of her deep, hot funnel.
As he sodomized the sobbing, twitching, tied up blonde, Ian slid his hands down the front of Sheila's body and inserted two fingers in her moist, dripping cunt, frigging her lewdly, driving the digits all the way up inside of her and stretching them apart.
Riff and Hank squeezed and twisted her bouncing boobs, catching her aching nipples between their forefingers and thumbs and squeezing them hard as they watched her expressions of mingled agony and horror.
"Oh, YEAH! UNH, UNH, UNH!" Otis grunted thickly, pounding his huge, thick prong deeper and harder and faster into her bowels. "I'M GONNA SHOOT! OH, FUCKIN' YEAH!! I'M CUMMIN'!! I'M CUMMIN! BITCH! TAKE IT! YAAAAAAARRRRGH!"
He slammed his huge horsedick deeply into the girl's agonized guts and began to shoot.
Sheila sobbed, feeling the first thick, scalding jets of his jism spurt deep into her intestines. The gushing, heavy cum spattered again and again from Otis' twitching, virile balls, and the force of his lusty orgasm, together with the finger fucking she was getting from Ian, unwittingly triggered her own orgasm.
Her body jerked violently and she gave a humiliated moan as waves of incredible pleasure swept through her. Hot explosions burst in her cunt and her juices gushes over Ian's probing fingers.
Rockets went off behind her eyes and her senses whirled.
Otis sat back on his haunches, panting lustily.
His twelve inch cock slid slowly out of her guts with a moist popping sound, flopping down between his legs like an elephant's trunk.
Hank quickly slid down and rolled his heavy, muscular, hairy body on top of Sheila.
He reached down, maneuvering his big, thick dick against the mouth of her cunt and stuck it in.
Sheila's loins were still twitching in the throes of a violent multiple orgasm, and as the heavy, hot, thick dick slipped up inside of her oozing, heated slit, her body shuddered and bucked with wanton pleasure.
Hank hammered his hips back and forth as hard and fast as he could, fucking her tight, clenching hole with all his might.
His ten inch truncheon battered in and out of her tight, twitching cunt, making her body jerk violently back and forth, her hefty tits bobbing up and down.
He fucked her long and hard until she was beginning to writhe and twitch in the throes of a second mind-boggling orgasm.
Then he pumped his cock back and forth in a frenzy of vigorous movement, uttering a low, savage bellow as he spilled his hot seed into the poor, bound-up, terrified blonde's ravaged womb.
Hank rolled his big sweaty, heaving body off of Sheila, his cock still twitching and oozing with come.
Ian climbed on and fucked her again for a long time until the big black stud had shot his thick wad.
Sheila was all tender and sore inside, and it hurt like hell to have the big stud ram his ten inch horsedick in and out of her so brutally.
Finally, he shot his thick load, soothing her chafed flesh, but before she had time to recover her breath, Riff clambered or. top, inserting his thick eight inch dick in her hole and pumping it in and out as hard and fast as he could, churning his his hips rapidly to and fro as he fucked her sopping, overflowing pussy.
Soon, all four studs had shot their thick wads into one or the other of her aching, incredibly distended orifices, and Sheila lay moaning and twitching on the floor while the four panting, sweating jocks stood around catching their breath.
Their dicks were soon expanding again however, and before long, were as hard as before.
Hank took the tape off of Sheila's mouth and yanked out the sodden panties with which he had gagged her.
Then, the sobbing, terrified slut was forced to suck each big, massive masculine manmeat until a hot, thick squirting load of come was blasted down her throat.
Each stud shot nearly an ounce of manjuice down her gulping gullet, so that when she had finished sucking them all off, her belly was heavy with semen.
Then, the men taped up her mouth again, untied her, spreading her face down on the dirt.
They nailed stakes into the floor and tied her hands and legs to them so that she was spread-eagled on the floor before them.
Hank's eyes gleamed with wild lust. He loped out to the car and returned with a thick leather black snake whip which he had bought for the occasion.
Standing over her, his legs planted far apart, he drew the whip back and brought the thick, braided leather lash snaking through the air.
It bit deeply into her soft, marshmallow-like buttocks, making Sheila's body jerk violently as red hot pain tore through her.
They had gagged her again, and her screams were forced back into her throat as he brought the whip down again and again.
The loud lashing sounds echoed through the shack, getting louder and louder, faster and faster as Hank grunted and whipped her ass with all the brute strength he could muster.
The muscles in his sweating, brawny body bulged with exertion and he grunted, saliva spraying between his clenched teeth, each time he brought the whip down across her tender, lacerated buns.
Sheila's head was reeling as sheer agony tore through her. Her ass felt as though it was on fire.
Her whole body jerked and twisted frantically as the cruel strand of leather tore into her again and again.
After a while, Hank passed the whip on to Otis, and the big, brawny Okie whipped her even harder than Hank had done.
Each drunken jock took his turn, and when they were through, Sheila's tender ass was a mass of angry red welts.
When they were through, the guys went to the car and got out a six pack of beer which they brought back and guzzled as they stared down at her shivering, twitching body.
They untied her hands and legs, flipped her over and tied her up again, so that her succulent tits and juicy, oozing pussy were revealed.
Her face was streaked with tears, and her eyes had a dull, glazed look of shock and exhaustion.
The four studs downed their beers, standing over her, their long limp cocks glistening with her juices and with saliva.
Then, they took turns pissing on her, their hot urine splashing over her sloping breasts and down into all of her comely crevices and over her face and hair.
She was completely humiliated.
With this dastardly act, their vicious ritual was complete.
Leaving the completely ravaged girl lying helplessly on the ground, they got dressed again, clambered back into their Chevy chuckling coarsely, and drove back to their dorm to celebrate.
That was Hank Dubloon's first experience with sadism. He was so turned on by it that never again was he able to get his rocks off unless fear, torture and domination were part of the sexual ritual...
Chapter Eight
Eve stared at Hank Dubloon with startled, wondering eyes.
What was it that turned this tall, ruggedly handsome man into a beast?
What was it about his mental make-up which transformed him into someone who craved violence to get his kicks?
She shivered as she looked at his relaxed physiognomy and remembered the expression of savage rage which had contorted his features the night he had raped and abducted her.
She knew the sadistic passions he was capable of getting into.
And the matter-of-fact way he told the stories of his past misdeeds made her blood run cold.
She saw the lazy glint of remembered excitement in his dark eyes, and the small, twisted smile on his lips.
She knew he wasn't lying or just trying to scare her.
She knew that Viveca Sothby was a prisoner of Gorse Island and a slave to her master's sadistic needs.
She knew that Sheila Loveland had been horribly raped by Hank Dubloon and his three drinking buddies years before.
She knew that she would be subjected to sadistic acts of sex and violence as soon as the "Jungle Empress" glided into the port at Gorse Island.
And yet, Eve Sedgewick was not terribly afraid. Just curious, mostly. Curious to know more about Hank Dubloon, that brooding, handsome, Heathcliff-like brute of a man, that rich recluse who concocted bizarre and sadistic plots in order to satisfy his needs.
She wished she knew more about his past. Perhaps in his past was the key to unlocking his dark, tormented soul.
Eve Sedgewick was closer to the truth than she knew.
And as he sat resting in the deck chair, letting the cool ocean breeze riffle through his short dark hair, Hank Dubloon sank into a reverie.
His brow was knitted, and his eyes grewer darker and darker, if that were possible.
He remembered that time when he was thirteen.
He remembered that shocking, overseen event which had triggered in him a disturbing propensity for violent sexual ritual.
It had been a long time ago...
Henry "Hank" Dubloon was born to wealthy and illustrious parents. His father was Edgar Stephenson Dubloon III, a multimillionaire oil tycoon from Texas.
His mother was the lovely Violet Tessa Hayes, star of the silver screen and daughter of a wealthy member of the blue-blooded Boston Hayeses, a distant relation to two Presidents.
Violet Hayes had become a film star at the age of sixteen when she appeared in "Forbidden Dawn" a tawdry, shocking melodrama directed by Otto Preminger.
Her lovely gray eyes and long, luxuriant black hair and luscious, pouting lips had become famous overnight, gracing the covers of virtually every major magazine in the country.
Like Elizabeth Taylor, Violet Tessa Hayes grew up before her time. She was womanly and incredibly beautiful, and people forgot that she was just sixteen.
Less than a year later, she had married Edgar Dubloon, a man twice her age, and before she was eighteen had given birth to a son, Henry.
The marriage lasted for four years and than the couple were divorced.
Hank was shuttled back and forth between his parents, who were constantly at each other's throats, and he spent much of his time in expensive private boys' schools in the U.S. and abroad.
Both of his parents were married several times as he grew up, and he grew accustomed to appearing at the weddings of either his father or his mother every couple of years or so.
His parents were mysterious and glamorous, and he knew almost as little about them as did the rest of the country.
He worshipped his mother. He thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world, and in his room at school, he kept a large framed picture of her beautiful face above his bed.
When he was thirteen, his illusions and fantasies about his darling mother were shattered.
Violet Tessa Hayes was married to her co-star at the time, muscleman Miles Kroll, who had just become a blockbuster star for a series of Hercules pictures he filmed in Italy.
Violet and Miles had appeared in a big splashy Hollywood epic film set in Biblical times, and had become involved in a passionate love affair which made headlines in the scandal sheets and brought the movie, which was pretty dreadful, a lot of publicity, making it a big hit.
Both Violet and Miles were married to other people when the affair started, and directly after the film was completed, they ran off to the Caribbean together and announced publically that they intended to shed their present spouses and get married.
Miles' wife at the time, actress Lola Willowby, tried to commit suicide and was put away in an institution for quite a while.
The divorce proceedings were ugly and made the news again and again, full of gossipy revelations about the private lives of the glamorous actors.
Finally, however, the entanglements were shed, and Miles and Lola planned a lavish, expensive Hollywood wedding.
Of course, Hank was to be there. He liked Miles well enough, the hulking, muscle-bound brute treated the boy nicely, and he was certainly better than some of the nasty cigar-smoking assholes his mother had been married to in the past.
The wedding was like a circus. Everybody and their grandmother attended, and the media flocked outside of the church like vultures. When the flash bulbs went off, it was as though an explosion had occurred.
Of course, Violet's wedding picture made the front page all over the world the next morning.
At thirty-one, she was still ravishingly beautiful, and it was her sixth time at the altar.
Like all the other times, she gushed to the press that she had "finally found the man to make me happy, for ever and ever!!"
Miles and Violet were going to fly to Violet's villa on the Caribbean island of Treisiella for their honeymoon.
A small group of friends were accompanying them, including Hank.
Violet had a lovely villa on top of a mountain on Treisiella, overlooking the bay. Hank had always enjoyed coming to visit his mother on the island. It was an idyllic place.
This time, something happened which changed the thirteen year old boy's life forever.
The honeymoon party was to remain on the island for two weeks.
One day, everyone except for Violet and Miles was planning on a yacht excursion around the bay to the town of St. Timothy.
Hank was part of the party until the last minute, and then he decided that he didn't want to go and sneaked away from the group and back into the villa.
He would go down to the beach alone later in the day, he decided, and spend the day alone, swimming and surfing.
He didn't tell his mother and step-father that he wasn't going on the yacht excursion, so Violet and Miles thought that they were alone in the private villa.
Hank read in his room for a while, and then decided to go into the kitchen and scrounge around in the fridge for something to eat.
He padded down the hall and was passing the master bedroom when he heard some strange sounds coming from the room.
The door was ajar, and he paused beside it and glanced in.
What he saw made him freeze. He remained standing rigidly by the door, his eyes bulging, as he watched the strange scene which unfolded before him.
Violet Tessa Hayes was crouched on her knees on the floor.
Her long, silken black hair cascaded about her ivory shoulders, framing her small, oval-shaped face with her gorgeous, famous features: her long-lashed gray eyes, her pert upturned nose, her luscious crimson lips, like passion fruit.
His mother was stark naked. Her thrusting, melon-like breasts were luscious mounds of translucent, creamy flesh capped by strawberry-red, sand dollar sized nipples.
Her waistline was slender and smooth, and her hips sloped slightly.
A dark, triangular thatch of fur covered the soft, sloping mound of her delectable vagina.
Her face was flushed, and her lovely eyes glimmered with excitement as she gazed up with worshipful trepidation at her towering, muscular husband.
Miles Kroll stood in front of her, his legs planted wide apart. He was wearing nothing but a jock strap. The muscles on his big, brawny body rippled like belts of steel beneath the flesh.
His physique was truly magnificent, deeply bronzed by hours in the sun.
His hair was curly and light brown, his eyes a mocking periwinkle blue.
His eyes were flashing now, his famous handsome features twisted in a snarl as he stared down at the prostrate figure of his lovely wife.
"Lick my feet, slut!" he ordered in a voice dripping with contempt.
Violet whimpered but obediently bent down and pressed her moist, soft lips against the tips of his toes, kissing them hungrily.
Her tongue shot out and whisked over his foot, and she lovingly moved her face back and forth, kissing and tonguing the flesh until it glowed with her saliva.
She moved to the other foot, and he stared down at her silently while she cleaned off his feet with her mouth and tongue.
Slowly, Violet worked her way up his body, moving up his thickly muscled, tree trunk like legs, her tongue lasciviously tracing the line of his bulging jock strap.
She dipped her tongue into the hollow of his navel, letting it roll over the rippling washboard ruggedness of his tight, hard belly, mewling in delight as she progressed up his brawny, expansive chest.
She lapped and sucked at his bulging, cement-hard pectoral muscles, suckling each hard brown pap.
She laved his fanning lats and buried her face in his musky arm pits.
She kissed and lapped at his bulging, cantaloupe-sized biceps.
Standing on her feet, she could only reach his collar bone with her hungry, ripe mouth.
Miles stared down at her coolly while she orally serviced his big, brawny muscular body.
She looked up at him beseechingly, trembling uncontrollably. Her pubic bush was glistening with her womanly fluids.
"On your knees, bitch!" he ordered harshly. "Whip out my big fat dick and slurp on it for a while, slut."
With a whimper, Violet dropped to her knees on the bedroom floor.
Her hands ran slowly up his bulging calves and her fingers hooked into the elastic band of his jock.
Slowly, with trembling fingers, she lifted it over the mammoth hill formed by his bulging, horse-dized schlong, drawing it down and snapping it securely beneath his big, orange-sized testicles.
He was immensely well hung. His long, thick cock bulged with angry veins, and the fat reddish head oozed as a trickle of pre-come swung from the puckered piss slit.
A mane of thick dark hair surrounded the pulsating base of his cock, and his huge, scum-filled balls were wrinkly and hairy.
"Lick those fuckin' balls, slut! Lick 'em good!" Miles ordered harshly.
Violet whimpered and leaned forward, puckering her luscious lips and pressing them against the wrinkly, gnarled surface of her husband's gonads.
Her small, flickering pink tongue shot out and whisked back and forth across the surface of his testicles.
She savored the pungent, manly flavor of his sex, her nostrils quivering as she inhaled his distinctive scent.
Hungrily, she began to lap his balls as quickly as she could, dipping her tongue beneath his tightening scrotum, gently nibbling on the wrinkly sack.
Miles folded his muscular arms across his chest and glared down at her impassively.
Slowly, Violet worked her way up to his big, throbbing boner.
She brushed her lips along the fat, thick, pulsating column of flesh and gristle, leaving a trail of glistening saliva in the wake of her oral trek.
She pressed her quivering lips to his cock and kissed it moistly, her tongue shooting out occasionally and brushing back and forth across the thick joint.
She moved up to the fat, fist-like head, titillating the mushroom-shaped knob with the very tip of her tongue, which she dipped into his pouting piss slit, lapping up the translucent, sticky liquid which glittered there.
Then, she yawned open her jaws as far as she could, her eyes gleaming with salacious need, and took the thick cockhead into her mouth.
Sucking it lovingly, her lips circled around his fat thick rod and she began to slowly bob her head back and forth.
Reaching down, Miles tangled his big strong fingers in her long luxuriant black tresses and gripped the back of her head in a viselike grip.
With a grunt, he began to pump his hips lustily back and forth, sliding his big, throbbing truncheon in and out of her sucking, slurping mouth.
Violet whimpered as the enormous, equine penis rammed its way against the back of her throat, and her eyes bugged out as it forced its way slowly into her slender throat.
Hank couldn't believe his eyes! Inch after inch of his step-father's gargantuan pecker was disappearing down his mother's throat!! What was the big barbarian trying to do, choke her?? Hank had an impulse to run into the room and attack Miles.
But something made him stand riveted to the spot and gape at what was happening.
Because Violet obviously was getting into what her brutish husband was doing.
Her hands slid up the backs of his legs and her long, crimson nails dug into the compact, hard curves of his buttocks.
Her face was flushed, and her eyes were clouded as he slid the last few inches of his horsedick into her, mashing her bloated lips and nose against his wiry pubic patch.
Then, Miles drew back quickly, his cock sliding moistly out of her until only the head was encompassed by her gulping mouth.
Violet inhaled gratefully, and then tilted her head, allowing him to slam that hefty length of manmeat down her gullet once more.
Miles began to fuck her face in earnest, brutally ramming his enormous cudgel in and out of her throbbing, gulping throat.
His big wet balls whipped up moistly against her chin each time he pumped down her throat.
"Yeah, take it, you filthy cock-suckin' slut!" Miles said thickly as he humped his pelvis back and forth. "Take my big fuckin' horsedick! Suck it, bitch! Suck it good!"
He snarled like a rutting beast, his bulging torso glistening with sweat.
He was pounding into her face hard now, gripping hard to her hair and slamming her face against his crotch with all the brute strength he could muster.
Suddenly, he uttered a short, gutteral roar.
He released her hair and stepped back.
His huge, throbbing whanger squelched out of her mouth moistly, glistening with her saliva.
Panting thickly, he stroked his fist rapidly up and down the thick, pulsating column, and uttered a low, bestial roar.
His ramrod quivered and thickened, and then, he began to shoot.
His heavy, pungent cream blasted up his tubes, spraying all over his wife's upturned, flushed face.
Deliberately, Miles aimed his squirting member downward, spurting the thick, gooey stuff all over Violet's cheeks and nose and mouth and chin.
She whimpered, opening her mouth, her tongue flailing around greedily as she swiped up the rivulets of hot, masculine fluid which ran down her face and over her throat, dripping between her pendulous swinging breasts.
Miles squirted and squirted, almost an ounce of jism jetting from his balls and splashing over his wife's face and neck.
Then, he dug his fingers tightly into Violet's hair, his chest heaving mightily.
With a grunt, he hauled Violet to her feet by her hair.
She winced in pain, but looked at him with large, limpid, loving eyes, trembling in obvious excitement, her tits jiggling from side to side. Her thighs were moist and juicy.
Contemptuously, Miles shoved her forward, pushing her onto the bed.
She sprawled across the silken sheets, quivering with excitement.
Miles strode to the dresser and yanked open a drawer.
He pulled out several strands of rope and marched over to the bed.
Grabbing one of Violet's wrists, he tied it with the end of one length of rope. He mutely forced her to turn over on her belly, and then tied each of her hands to the bedposts.
He gazed down at her lithe, smooth back and firm, high, dimpled buttocks, his eyes glistening with lust.
His wet, oozing pecker was still rock-hard and jerking spasmodically in front of him.
He crossed to the dresser again and picked up a thick leather belt covered with metal studs.
He wound the end of it around his hand and strode back to the bed, standing there and staring down at his wife's vulnerable, pale ass cheeks.
He lifted the thick leather belt over his head, flexing the mighty muscles in his chest and arms as he prepared himself to strike.
The leather strap whistled through the air, and he snarled in savage, animalistic fulfillment as the belt bit deeply into his wife's quivering, creamy smooth ass cheeks, a resounding report echoing through the room.
Violet's body jerked violently as a red mark erupted on her pale white flesh, and she gasped audibly, a sob catching in her throat.
She was shivering convulsively all over.
Miles drew his arm back again and with a grunt, brought the belt down across her ass cheeks even harder than before.
This time, Violet gave a little scream, her body jerking spasmodically.
Miles grinned savagely, and began to flail her tender flesh with the belt cruelly, crisscrossing her ass with red, smarting welts.
Violet sobbed and shrieked, tossing her thick dark tresses back and forth with passionate frenzy.
But she was getting into it. She was getting into the pain. She was lifting her hips upward wantonly, as if begging him to slice that thick leather belt into her ass harder and harder.
Miles gritted his strong white teeth, breath spraying between them as he brought the last down again and again.
Hank stared with glassy-eyed horror at the bizarre whipping scene he had unwittingly become a witness to.
His head spun. He couldn't believe his eyes.
Chapter Nine
Miles continued to whip Violet's ass till his whole, massive body was drenched in sweat and her sweet, tender ass cheeks were blazing with smarting red welts.
She was moaning and sobbing in delirious ecstasy, her lovely, curvaceous body twitching and trembling beneath this abuse.
Then, Miles tossed the belt across the room carelessly, standing there panting hard as he surveyed his handiwork with glittering eyes.
He strode back to the dresser and rummaged around in the drawer. He returned to the foot of the bed carrying something else.
Miles climbed onto the bed and placed what he was carrying on the crumpled silken sheets beside him.
A bottle of cologne and a long, rectangular box fell from his hands to the bed. He opened the box, and slowly lifted out a gargantuan dildo.
It was a long, incredibly thick black slab of rubber with ridges and contusions in the side. It was so thick he couldn't fit his hand around it all the way.
It was absolutely immense. Then, Miles picked up the bottle of cologne and took off the stopper.
Grinning evilly, he poured a liberal portion into the palm of his hand.
Leaning forward, he smartly slapped his hand across her aching, lacerated buttocks, splashing the aromatic liquid over them.
Violet gave a little shriek, her body jerking, as he struck her tender flesh, and then she sobbed aloud, squirming wildly as the cologne touched her tingling bruised flesh, making it smart violently.
Her whipped buns gleamed in the light which cascaded through the Venetian blinds, striping the bed with bars of honeyed light.
Miles poured some more cologne into his hand and smeared it over the long thick dildo so that it shone and sparkled.
He slowly tilted the long rubber appendage downward, tracing it from the small of Violet's trembling back down to the juncture where her deep crack began.
Violet moaned and shuddered as the heavy rubber phallus plowed in between her luscious ass cheeks and scraped downward.
Miles' eyes were glittering with excitement and he licked his lips nervously.
He dug his thumb into one of her butt cheeks and peeled it back, revealing the soft pink puckered anal orifice.
Prodding it with the fat, thick, cologne-imbued tip of the black dildo, he pressed the rubber glans against the aperture hard.
Then, he gripped the end of the hefty rubber phallus in both of his big, ham-like fists, holding onto it tightly.
His face was flushed with strange, libidinous excitement, and his lips were twisted in a snarl.
He flexed the muscles in his powerful arms and began to shove forward relentlessly.
Violet squirmed, whimpering in trepidation and excitement.
Suddenly, she jerked back her head and screamed shrilly as her spincter muscle was stretched and stretched and stretched by the massive rubber obstacle.
Slowly, the fat, thick rubber dildo forced its way inside of her agonized colon, the cologne with which it was imbued stinging her tender rectal membranes cruelly.
Miles twisted his hands back and forth, turning the huge stopper inside of her aching, agonized guts as he plowed it deeper and deeper inside of her.
Violet was sobbing and gasping, her body jerking violently as inch after inch of the thick rubber rod jammed deeper and deeper into her guts.
Miles grunted in satisfaction as he mashed as much of the artificial pecker inside of her as he could without letting go of the end.
He drew back, letting half of it slide moistly out of his wife, and then thrust it all the way in again.
Violet moaned and sobbed and shuddered, but was obviously getting really turned on by this anal intrusion.
She lifted her hips and pressed back wantonly against the hefty black dildo as he began to rhythmically slam it back and forth, back and forth.
"You like that, don't you, slut?" Miles growled thickly as he pumped the big black dildo in and out of her quivering guts. "You like that fat rubber prick slammed up inside of you, huh?"
"AWWWW, Y-YEEEES! YEEEEES!" Violet sobbed almost incoherently, tossing her black tresses back and forth in a frenzy of delight.
Her body was bucking and churning and undulating in wanton excitement.
Miles was getting more and more excited as he thrust the black phallus into her harder and harder, faster and faster.
His pecker quivered in front of him. It was hard as a rock, still glistneing with his wife's saliva and with his own seminal fluids.
He dropped one hand and fisted his massive truncheon, beating off his meatiness as he rammed the thick dildo up the comely lady's asshole.
He ground the black dildo deeply inside of Violet's guts and held it there.
Miles shifted his weight forward with a bestial grunting sound, guiding his large thick rod downward.
Violet was moaning and gasping in pleasure.
She lifted her hips, spreading her legs, revealing the sopping, puckered lips of her juicy, dripping cunt as Miles grunted in satisfaction, maneuvering the thick, pulpy knob of his bulging prick against the maw to her bower of bliss.
He gripped hold of her waist and slammed his hips forward hard.
About half of the huge, thick, vein-latticed lance forced its way inside of her tight, sucking hole.
Violet uttered a shrill scream of feminine pleasure as she was impaled by her hulking husband's horse-sized honker.
Miles roared in delight, swivelling his hips lewdly, enjoying the sensation of having his big, throbbing ramrod ensconced by her satiny, clinging, furnace hot sheath.
He pumped forward harder, driving the rest of his mighty mauler up inside of her tight, sucking cunt.
He began to churn back and forth lustily, fucking his wife hard.
His thrusts jerked her body forward rhythmically, and moist squelching sounds emerged from the juncture where their loins meshed.
"Yeah, take my big fuckin' cock up your hot, sluttish pussy, bitch! I'm gonna fuck you till I shoot my juice out your ears, cunt!" Miles grunted obscenely.
He was humping into her fast and hard. His sweaty, muscular thighs smacked up against her tender, quivering buns.
The thick, black rubber phallus was deeply imbedded in her twitching, sucking ass hole, and Violet was shrilly squealing and gasping and whimpering in delirious delight as both of her hungry, twitching orifices were crammed to the limit with hard, hot thickness.
As he pumped his hefty rod in and out. in and out, of her tight, hot snatch, Miles gripped hold of the black rubber phallus once more and began to slide it back and forth vigorously, slamming it up into her guts.
He grunted as he felt the heavy black dildo through the thin membrane of flesh which separated the two tunnels in Violet's sexy, quivering body.
Violet sobbed in ecstasy as she felt the double friction of her husband's huge, horse-sized ramrod and the over-sized black dildo sliding in and out of her tender tunnels.
Her head was spinning. Her body was on fire. The ropes around her wrists were digging cruelly into her flesh. Her husband's hand was clenching painfully to her waist. Her cunt and asshole were distended incredibly by the thickness of the huge tools which crammed up inside of her relentlessly.
She simply couldn't stand it much longer! It was too excruciatingly wonderful! She was bucking back against Miles' body in a frenzy of lust, rotating her hips, impaling herself again and again on the two thick appendages which pierced her innards.
"FUCK ME!- FUCK MEEEEEE!" she shrieked. "I - I'M GONNA CUM! OOOOOH! OOOOOHM OOOOOOH!!! Y-YEEEES! I -I'M CUMMING!!! AIEEEEEEEE!"
She threw back her long black tresses, her lovely face contorted with animalistic pleasure as delirious passion exploded through her veins. Rockets went off behind her eyes, and every nerve ending in her body seemed to be electrically stimulated as she began to come and come and come.
Her pussy and ass twitched and milked around the rods which pierced them vigorously, and Miles moaned in pleasure as he felt her hot slick juices swirl around his plunging pecker.
"Yeah, you filthy slut, you like your holes stuffed up with hot, thick cock! Yeah! Take this thick meatiness, bitch! Take it!"
He released the dildo, leaving it imbedded deeply inside of her, and grabbed her waist hard in both hands.
He began to slam his hips brutally back and forth, drawing back until all but the bulbous knob of his hefty erection were outside of her body.
Then, he grunted as he pounded forward with all his might, driving his long, thick truncheon all the way up to the balls inside of her once more.
He was fucking into her in a frenzy of animalistic passion now, making her body jerk vigorously back and forth, her big, pendulous breasts swinging beneath her.
Violet gave little breathless gasps as her husband rammed his brutal, muscle-bound body against her again and again.
His cock moistly squelched in and out, in and out of her aching, spasming pussy.
His eyes blazed. His mouth panted. His body perspired. His muscles flexed.
Hell, he was really getting into it.
He was brutally fucking his trussed up, violated wife, and she was loving it, and he was loving it...
What he didn't know was that his stepson, Hank, was watching everything through the door.
And what Hank saw was changing his perception of sexuality forever.
"GET READY, YOU COCK-SUCKIN' SLUT!" Miles roared mightily, the tendons in his neck constricting as he hammered brutally in and out of Violet's body. "GET FUCKIN' READY FOR MY THICK, STEAMY LOAD!!" The bed was creaking and groaning under the force of Miles vigorous thrusts.
Miles pounded his wife's pussy into a buttery pulp, his breath spraying from between his clenched teeth.
He threw back his head and roared lustily as he reached a culmination.
"YEAH! TAKE IT, BITCH! TAKE YOUR HUSBAND'S HOT SPUNK! I'M GONNA SHOOT MY WAD!! YEAH!! AAARRRRRGH!!"
His huge boner sluiced violently in and out of her sopping, sucking vortex. It swelled as his balls erupted gloriously.
His hot, thick semen erupted from his tubes and hosed mightily deep into her quivering womb.
Gush after thick, sticky gush of creamy semen spurted deep into Violet's succulent tunnel, blasting into her womb, filling her to the brim with his masculine juices.
Grunting and moaning, Miles churned to a stop, shuddering as he held himself deeply inside of her, his cock slowly shrinking as the last drops of his fluid spurted from his gonads.
Then, he sat back on his haunches panting lustily, a dumb grin on his sweaty, famous physiognomy.
Hank's head was spinning. His knees were wobbly. And what's more, he had a raging hard-on.
He couldn't believe what he had just seen.
He couldn't believe that his precious mother would allow herself to be treated so brutally, so violently, in such a humiliating fashion!
His beautiful, angelic, glamorous mother!!
Violet Tessa Hayes, whose dazzling smile could melt him to the core!!
Allowing herself to be brutally mistreated by that big, over-muscled oaf!!
Hank's breast teemed with mingled, conflicting emotions.
He felt furious and enraged that Miles would treat his mother in that fashion. But he was angrier with his mother than with Miles.
Angry that she had betrayed the image of motherhood which he had previously envisioned.
Angry that she had shown herself to be nothing more than a cheap, cock-hungry slut.
Angry at himself, too, because he had a blazing hard-on. Because he was incredibly, violently, turned on by the disturbing spectacle he had just seen.
He forced himself to turn around and staggered back to his own room.
Lying in his bed, he whipped out his cock and jerked off in a frenzy of mindless excitement.
In his swimming mind, he saw his mother's face, contorted with mingled pain and pleasure.
He grinned savagely. He wanted to hurt her. He wanted to make his own mother writhe and scream and groan.
He wanted to make those cool, famous eyes glisten with respect and fear and shock.
He wanted to feel her body jerk and twitch as he rammed his own cock into her cunt and ass...
These incestuous fantasies rushed through his lust-en fevered brain as he stroked his meat, and he had a violent, mind-boggling orgasm.
When his senses cleared, he felt an overwhelming rush of shame and guilt.
He tried to forget the whole incident.
He went down to the beach and swam and surfed with some friends and tried to keep busy.
But Hank Dubloon was never able to look at his beautiful, famous mother again without remembering graphically the sadistic sex scene he had voyeuristically seen between her and Miles Kroll.
He soon was sent back to school, and his sadistic fantasies pursued him. They soon began to extend to virtually every woman and girl he was attracted to.
He was so guilty about his incestuous feelings about the raven-haired beauty who happened to be his mother, that he forced himself to turn his sensual attentions to women who were quite different to her.
He found himself aggressively pursuing blondes instead of brunettes.
He found that the sexual lust he felt for these women was augmented by a violent emotion akin to anger.
He liked to feel their tender, quivering flesh mashed cruelly between his powerful fingers. He liked to bruise their skin and make them scream in pain.
He liked to see their eyes flicker with pain and respect and humiliation...
He worked his body vigorously as he grew into adolescence and young manhood. He became a pretty formidable athlete.
Girls flocked to him, but most of them soon realized that getting into bed with Hank Dubloon was more than they had bargained for.
Violet Tessa Hayes and Miles Kroll had a stormy marriage which lasted five years, and then they were divorced.
His mother married three more times, and her last three husbands were all big brutish men whom Hank was sure abused her in a similar fashion to that in which Miles did.
Finally, at the age of forty-two, the incredibly famous, still beautiful film star took an overdose of sleeping pills one night and died. In death, she became even more famous, a legend in her own time.
Miles was strangely unmoved by his mother's demise. He was almost relieved by it. He was a young man at the time and her only child.
He inherited all of her immense accumulated wealth.
He used the money to buy a private island off the coast of Treisiella, where his mother's villa was located.
He had never returned to that villa after that traumatic experience, and when he inherited his mother's estate, he sold the villa almost immediately.
He had become something of a recluse.
Now, at the age of thirty-three, he had never married, though he had been linked romantically with a dozen of the loveliest ladies in the world.
Some of his "steadies" had abruptly broken off relationships with him, and there were rumors that the romances were ended because of his brutality in bed.
But Hank was pretty careful to keep his proclivity to sadism secret.
He constructed the enormous castle on Gorse Island, creating an isolated, wholly private arena for his bizarre fantasy life, and most of the disturbing, violent fantasies he had ever had were brought to life in the dark dungeons of that neo-Medieval structure.
As he sat in the deck chair, brooding over these thoughts, he cast a side long glance at his latest captive.
Eve Sedgewick was an incredibly exciting woman. She was not only the most beautiful woman he had ever met, she had an edge that turned him on, a stubbornness. Perhaps, finally, he had met his match - a woman who could get into the violent, sadistic urges which consumed him, without becoming a sycophantic, sniveling slave.
He felt a lurch of licentious excitement in his belly.
He couldn't wait until they got to the island. Couldn't wait to find out if his expectations of Eve Sedgewick were too great.
Eve was aware of the scrutiny her "host" was giving her, and it thrilled her, though she pretended to be staring over the waves at the nebulous horizon.
Her heart was pounding hard. Her head was spinning. Just the proximity of this restless, vigorous, handsome brute made her blood catch fire. His strength and savage masculinity were like an aroma which made her head whirl with sensual excitement.
Unwittingly, her pussy was beginning to tingle and itch with excitement.
To her surprise and vexation, she found that she, too, was longing for the time when the "Jungle Empress" sailed into port at Gorse Island, and she would find out what it would be like to be a guest on Hank Dubloon's exclusive island...
Chapter Ten
Eve Sedgewick moaned and choked back a sob as Hank slowly pressed down on the lever of the device which squeezed her breasts so painfully.
A long, cold metal bar bore down on her breasts, squeezing her nipples against the cold marble floor,, sending electric bursts of red hot agony cutting through her.
She was naked and lying face down on the floor. Her hands were bound about her back.
Her legs were spread apart, and her feet were tied to posts in the floor with lengths of rope.
Screams were echoing through the torture chamber, but they weren't the screams of Eve Sedgewick.
Viveca Sothby was dangling from a rope suspended from the ceiling, a rope which bit cruelly into her wrists.
Her young, nubile body was naked and quivering.
Brutus Grunch stood in front of her, his brutish, imbecilic features twisted into a diabolical grin of lust, his lips slavering.
He drew back his arm and brought the hefty length of leather swishing through the air. It snapped loudly around the tender flesh of Viveca's lacerated buns, causing her body to jerk violently forward.
She screamed again, tossing her blonde tresses in a frenzy, moaning and sobbing, but obviously really enjoying the brutal whipping which was setting her tender ass cheeks on fire.
Eve's head swirled as Hank pressed down on the vise which crushed her breasts, and she gave a low sob of agony, tears glistening in her eyes.
Hank gripped the birch rod he was holding, his eyes burning as he glanced down at Eve's tender, upturned, dimpled buns.
He grinned savagely, gripping tighter to the rod.
Stepping back, still firmly pressing down on the vise which crushed her tits, he lifted the rod over his head.
With a grunt, he brought it down hard on her quivering buttocks.
Eve gave a gasp as pain shot through her ass.
She screamed when he began to slash her ass repeatedly, deliberately, beating her harder and harder.
Explosions of fiery pain shot through her squirming lower body as he flailed her again and again.
Her screams mingled with those of Viveca Sothby, and like the trussed up castaway, through the agony which clouded her vision, Eve Sedgewick became aware of a strange, dark pleasure billowing up inside of her.
The hot, smarting explosions of pain in her ass travelled through her in electric bursts, flowing through her loins and setting them on fire.
Her pussy quivered and twitched each time the birch rod bit into her ass, and soon, her juices were flowing copiously and she was squirming and moaning in ecstasy.
The metal pole which crushed her tits added to the fun, sending other waves of mingled pleasure and pain through her tortured body.
My Lord! Eve thought in dazed delight. This isn't so bad after all!!
"OOOOOH, Y-YEEEES!!" she squealed brokenly. "BEAT ME, DARLING, BEAT ME! WHIP MY CUTE LITTLE TUSH!"
Hank grunted, his lips twisting in an ugly little smirk.
"I'll beat you all right, you filthy little tart! Don't you worry!" he promised earnestly, and kept his word.
Hank was a man who always kept his word.
He flailed that lovely blonde heiress to within an inch of her life.
In fact, he beat her ass so hard she soon was cumming gloriously, her pussy juices squirting over her thighs and dripping onto the cold marble floor as she squirmed and sobbed in delirious delight.
"You like that, don't you, slut?" Hank said, guffawing coarsely. "Well, now, how about a little pussy eating to round out the day?"
He beckoned to Magdalena, the tall, zoftig, redhead dominatrix, garbed in a shocking leather outfit with holes cut so that her enormous, torpedo-like breasts thrust forward mightily and her dripping, fuzzy red bush was clearly exposed.
Magdalena strode over with alacrity, her sharp heels clicking on the floor.
Magdalena dropped to her knees in front of Eve, and soon, the lovely blonde captive had her face mashed in the tall redhead's musky pubic bush.
She ground her nose and lips into the moist, dripping flesh of Magdalena's juicy twat.
She thrust out her tongue and laved it up and down the pulpy, oozing slit.
She ferreted out the lady's huge, erect clitoris and sucked on it like a small penis, until Magdalena was groaning and grunting and snorting, heaving her big boobies back and forth as she enjoyed the terrific sucking she was getting from Hank's new pupil.
Meanwhile, Brutus had let Viveca down and was fucking her up the ass while he twisted tit clamps around her aching reddish nipples, and the blonde sobbing castaway was really getting off on the brutal treatment the hulking ex-con was subjecting her to.
Eve ate out Magdalena's bush until the big, zoftig dominatrix gushes her hot, oily fluids over the blonde slut's tongue.
Then, Hank shoved his big meaty boner down Eve's throat and made her suck on it for quite a while, digging his fingers cruelly into her hair and jerking her head back and forth as he slammed his hefty member deep into her thoat again and again.
Then, he brought Viveca over and had Eve suck the young blond slave's slut until Viveca was moaning and bucking her hips wantonly. Then, Hank scrambled around in back of Viveca and began to fuck her up the ass hard while Eve continued to lick and suck and tongue the young blonde wench's pussy.
Soon, Viveca was screeching like a banshee, her eyes rolling wildly, her body bucking as she came and came and came, her juicy fluids flowing over Eve's wriggling tongue, her asshole clenching around Hank's hefty whanger, milking it furiously.
Hank pulled his thick horsedick out of her ass with a moist popping sound and inserted it back in Eve's mouth, making the blonde heiress suck his cock clean.
Then, he scrambled around in back of Eve and shoved his hefty boner up Eve's agonized butt hole and began to lustily sodomize her.
Brutus came up and began to apply some more tit torture to Eve's tightly compressed nipples while his master continued to batter Eve's ass with all the might he could muster.
Eve screamed and sobbed deliriously, getting more and more turned on by this delightfully bizarre succession of events.
Soon, Hank was grunting and sweating like a wild boar as he pounded into her ass with all his might.
He uttered a thick, ragged roar and began to shoot his creamy white juice deep into her guts.
He shot his heavy load deep inside of her, spurting squirt after squirt of the virile, thick, creamy jism, grunting and groaning with delight.
And as he came, the force of his fantastic orgasm triggered Eve's own cataclysmic explosion, and her pussy oozed again and she came and came and came and came!!
Brutus quickly inserted his hefty tool in Eve's mouth and she was forced to suck on his huge meatiness for about fifteen minutes.
He stuffed his great frankfurter deep down her aching gullet again and again, and finally, with a mighty roar, he shot his big, thick load down her throat, squirting his creamy goo over her flailing, whisking tongue.
She groaned and sucked and slurped at the thick, creamy juice as it sprayed pungently into her mouth again and again and again, drinking down every drop of it.
Boy, did it ever taste good to the sex-starved, brutally abused blonde wench!
After that, Hank had a hard on again, so he stuck it up Eve's quivering pussy and fucked her thoroughly for half an hour until he shot his wad up her tight, heated sex chute.
