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From: an409775@anon.penet.fi (Stroker Ace)
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Date: Tue, 11 Jun 1996 08:17:22 UTC
Subject: Lord of Discipline MF, NC 1/1
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Lord of Discipline
WARNING
Contains forced sex, violence, and abuse.
This story may be distributed electronically provided
it is complete, unaltered and with this statement
intact. The author maintains all rights to this
story.
(c) 1995, Stroker Ace
`Lord of Discipline' is a work of fiction and is
entirely the product of the author's
imagination. Any similarities to any person,
living or dead, is purely coincidental. The
incidents and dialogues are not to be construed
as real.
The Cast
in order of appearance
Paul Geoffrey Missionary (Preacher man)
David Clayton Photographer
Kiran Shah David's assistant
Cheryl Magden Female Primate
Tiger Male Orangutan
Maggie Female Orangutan
Andy Pilot
"All along the watchtower,
two riders were approaching,
and the wind began to howl"
Chapter 1 - 120 kms from the equator
St. Christopher spun crazily at the end of his
chain hanging from the rear view mirror as the old
truck lurched into another puddle. The driver leaned
forward to peered through the mud streaked windshield
as the wipers pushed the mud back and forth. The
darkness gave way to a narrow white cone from the
headlights. With renewed vigor he sang "Onward
Christian soldier...," in a squeaky voice. The tires
spun then caught as the truck bounced down the narrow
trail. The driver took his hand from the shaking
steering wheel to finger the silver cross hanging
around his neck. A bible slid from his lap to bounce
around with the pamphlets on the dirty floorboard.
"Oh my Lord, I understand that a rain forest needs
water but does it really need this much?", he asked out
loud. "Please Lord, do not make it much further," he
added as he tapped the fuel gauge.
Bushes on both sides, scrapped against the doors,
then abruptly the trail turned into a small clearing.
A trucks headlights illuminated a small area. The
whine of a generator drowned out the sounds of the
jungle. A campfire burned, the smoke rising straight
up in the hot equatorial night. A native and a white
man wearing an immaculate fedora stood facing him in
the glare of the headlights.
"Thank you for delivering me, Lord," he said
stepping from the truck. "Hello, hello. I am ever
thankful to find another kind soul out here in the
wilderness."
"Howdy, mate. What brings you way out here in the
middle of the blooming night," the man answered.
"The work of the Lord does not stop for darkness."
"Oh dam. We got us a bloody preacher man," the
white man said with a smile.
"No, I am not an ordained minister. I am a
missionary. Paul Geoffrey here, glad to make your
acquaintance. I was on my way to save the souls in
Bakobi village....
"Nukobi," the man with the hat corrected.
"Thank you. Nakobi village, but I must have
gotten lost. I should have been there hours ago, but I
guess the Lord had other plans. I just arrived in
Borneo a few days ago, I am still learning the ropes.
I am glad that I found someone out here, I am afraid
that I did not bring any supplies or food. You see, I
was supposed to get there by noon."
"Glad to meet you Paul, even if you are a preacher
man. I am David, David Clayton, the silent native over
there is Kiran. He is my assistant and best friend.
We have been together since I came to Indonesia, years
ago. You look hungry, lets get you something to eat."
Chapter 2 The campfire
"Cheryl, fix the preacher man something to eat,"
David called.
A petite girl emerged from the truck parked beyond
the campfire. She walked a few steps and stopped, her
form silhouetted in the headlights.
"What would he like?" she asked. "There is some
left over stew."
"That would be fine, Miss. Were you sleeping? I am
sorry to disturb you, Miss. Don't let me interrupt your
rest. Please go ahead and get dressed. The lights,
Miss, they show more of you than you realize."
Kiran laughed, "Missy is dressed. Ain't that
right Missy?"
Cheryl did not answer, but turned and steeping on
delicately her toes, made her way to a cooler by the
fire. Paul clutched his cross as he watched the short
negligee shimmer with every step.
"She, she is wearing high heels. Here in the
jungle. High heels!" Paul exclaimed pointing at the
retreating woman.
David threw his head back and laughed. "Preacher
man, this is not a jungle. It is a tropical rain
forest and Cheryl is a very special woman. She does
many things. I ask her dress up for dinner. I guess
that I have always been fascinated with the small
details of women. Here, have a seat, take those wet
boots off and have some stew. Sexy get us a bottle of
Saki. Sorry the rice wine is all we have, mate."
The three men settled down by the fire as the
missionary ate. Cheryl served warm Saki and sat on the
cooler across from the men. Paul noted that her steps
were easier on the hard ground by the fire. The light
from the fire played across her face leaving
unattractive shadows across delicate features. Paul
found his eyes falling to her cleavage, the shadows
dancing over her breasts. The red negligee flowed like
a dress disappearing in her lap. She sat with her legs
together, leg and thigh visible to the curve of her
bottom. The missionary blinked and wiped his eyes,
shadows played across her lap, sometimes he could swear
on a stack of bibles that he saw what only a husband
should, but perhaps it was only the shadows or warm
wine on a hot jungle night.
"Where do I know you from, Cheryl?," Paul asked as
he wiped his damp brow. "Have we meet before? I could
hardly forget such a beautiful face."
"No. You never met her before," Kiran answered
abruptly. David rested a hand on the natives shoulder.
"So, what brings you pilgrims to Gods great
wilderness?" Paul asked to break the silence.
"I came to the Tang Phun rain forest two years
ago," David replied. "It was to make documentary for
National Geographic. I am a nature photographer. My
friend here, Kiran meet me at the dock, and we have
been together ever since. We shoot video of wildlife,
all kinds, but especially orangutans."
"The man of the forest," Kiran added.
"That's right, `the man of the forest,' then I
splice the footage together into something interesting
and sell it to Geographic. With all the concern for
ecology, business has been pretty good."
"And Cheryl, you must be his pretty wife," Paul
asked.
"I am not his wife!"
"Oh, dear! The good book is quite clear, that
women should not be so provocative, even in holy
marriage."
"Cheryl and I meet last year." David interjected.
"I have an idea. Cheryl will tell you how we meet. The
night is still young. Kiran, pass the Saki around while
Cheryl tells us everything."
"Yes please, do tell," Paul added taking a sip of
the warm wine. "I always did fancy a love story. Being
a slave to the mission, I have to sworn to a life of
celibacy. Believe me, it is not an easy thing, no
women, no touching not even any impure thoughts. To
get away from all the temptations, I asked to be
assigned to this dam place. Oh, dear. I am afraid
that the wine has effected my tongue."
Cheryl looked at the three men facing her. Kiran,
leaned back against a log, enjoying her plight. His
dark chest rippled with muscles that she had come to
know very well. Paul the missionary sat on a folding
chair, large circles of sweat under each arm of his
khaki shirt. She could feel his stare on her lap. Her
eyes traveled to David. She glanced at the bulge in
his shorts and then up to his eyes and knew she would
have to relive it.
Chapter 3 A different life
"It seams like a lifetime ago." Cheryl helped
herself to the Saki, glancing up at David, she filled
the plastic cup with the clear wine. "I had just
graduated. Cheryl Magden, communications major. It had
a nice ring to it. I took the summer off, before
deciding which job offer to take. I was single, went to
all the best parties, spent the days flirting at the
beach." Warming at the memories, she continued.
"Then Paris Match did an article about thongs on
Huntington Beach and put me on the cover. I couldn't
believe it. Believe me, I got a lot of comments from
that picture! Jane Somerby from Elle saw it and wanted
me to do a shoot for her magazine. Something exotic
she said." Cheryl looked around at the dark forest on
either side. "I guess it doesn't get any more exotic
than this."
Even David smiled.
Cheryl took a sip of the wine before continuing.
"We were on our way to the game preserve to do a shoot
with tigers or leopards or something when we got lost.
They had a helicopter waiting for me at the airport,
they treated me like a super model. After a few
minutes the sky turned black, the little helicopter was
bouncing around, I was getting sick. The pilot said he
didn't have the instruments to fly over the storm so he
tried to go around, but he lost sight of the road and
got lost. It was nothing but a green carpet in every
direction. He called and called on the radio but no
one answered. He was talking about a crash landing
when I saw a palm frond roof in a little clearing. I
wish I never did."
"The place was a dump. A shack was at on end, on
the other side, a home made bench sat under a leaf
roof, without walls. There was trash everywhere and dam
monkeys were running wild. I didn't know anything
about wild animals. Orangutans looked like gorillas to
this city girl. "Before we could get out, furry,
reddish brown monkeys, all arms and legs, came
bounding over. They were all over us. I screamed,
then this guy dressed only in cut-offs came out. It
was him, she nodded towards David. The pilot, Andy,
spoke to him about getting some gasoline."
"Wait a second. Preacher man should hear the
entire story, just as it happened," David said, as he
filled the preacher's cup. "I heard the racket from
the helicopter getting louder and hurried back to camp.
Maggie and Tiger, a couple of wild orangutans that were
orphaned by poachers, rushed over to great them. Tiger
loved Maggie, they were always together. They followed
us into the forest on our shoots and slept in camp.
The pilot went crazy, waving and screaming as if the
`orangs' were going to attack him. They just wanted
to swing on the helicopter. Young orangs like Maggie
are very inquisitive. The pilot tried to push them
away but they swarmed over him. He pulled out a pistol
and shot Maggie. Maggie lay dying as poor Tiger cried
over her. He was going to shoot again, but I got him
first. One shot, in the chest, from a 9 mm. He died
on the spot.
"Our girl here had gone hysterical. She called me
an ape. I pulled Cheryl out and might have slapped her
to shut her up."
"You hit me."
"She was still going wild, calling me all kinds of
unpleasant names. I brought her over to the chickee
hut to... oh, its just a roof and a couple of stout
poles to hold it up. Anyway she needed time to calm
down. I tried to reason with her, explain that I was
only defending Tiger. The orangs had been like
children to me. He killed my Maggie, I cried like a baby.
I just couldn't stand by and let him shoot Tiger. She just
wouldn't calm down. Called me disgusting, said she was
going to tell the constable as soon as she got back. She
called me a disgusting bandit. Can you imagine that?"
"Come here Cheryl".
"Please David, not in front of the preacher."
But she stood, pausing to delay the inescapable.
Her hands brushed the red negligee smooth across the
curve of her hip. The material barely covered the
swell of her mound. Walking to David she softly kneeled
in the dirt, where he indicated, between his legs.
"Tell our friend what happened next," David said,
stroking her hair.
Cheryl swallowed, taken by surprise. "You raped
me," a tremble in her voice revealing the emotion.
"I think I did better than that, my sexy little
bitch." He smiled at the missionary as he stroked the
brunette's shinny hair between his legs. The
missionary leaned forward, cup in hand, the folding
chair tottering precariously on its front legs.
Without saying a word, Kiran reached across and filled
the cup. Paul's eyes never left Cheryl's head. "You
were wearing a blue denim outfit with roman style tie on
sandals that took forever to get off. I held you
wrists in one hand and pushed you, kicking and
screaming on the bench. You were on your back, hands
over your pretty head. A couple of wraps with shipping
twine and your hands were tied. I could feel you
squirming under me. Your chest heaving for air as you
screamed, it was a fantastic turn-on, I could have come
in my pants right there. I slid up and sat on your
tits, my bulge just a centimeter from those barred
teeth. Pushing my crotch into your face, I pinned your
head down so I could tie your hands off to the table.
I stood back to admire my handiwork, but you slithered
up to the head of the table. I took you by the calves
and yanked you down. Then I simply pulled off your
shorts. The oversize black belt was still around your
waist as if it was holding your panties up. I pulled
those down over your sandals, floral print, sexy, but
not too clean, dear. A tight little V of light brown
covered your mound, leaving bare pink lips in the
sunlight. Preacher, you may like to know that once you
get the panties off a woman she looses the will to
fight. She realizes how vulnerable she is. I had to
see her naked so I grabbed the left side of her blouse
and tugged, buttons flew off in every direction. The
bra pulled up, but had to be cut free. Cheryl is not
very large up top but I heard that swallowing will make
them grow. We will see. The belt then the dam sandals
and you were nude, tied to the bench.
I will never forget how she felt when I entered
her. Tight and dry she resisted me but there was
preventing me now. My discomfort added to the
sensation. She burst into tears, sobbing and amazingly
her pussy accepted me. All of a sudden she was moist,
my strokes went deeper, I felt the end of her cunt on
my dick and exploded into this new woman squirming
under me. Her head went back, leaving her throat
exposed. Heaving, I pushed in as deep as I could, I
had made her mine.
Her throat, long and soft curved up into her chin
and down into her chest. The rough twine dark and
frayed, lapped twice around that voluptuous throat,
still blushing from her undesired sexual response.
Pulling the twine tighter to shut her up, she fought
me, the twine dangerously tight, digging in, under
white flesh, but she could still breath, no doubt
helped by fingers worked under her new collar. It was
past noon, the sun blazed in, pushing the slightly
cooler shadow to one side, almost completely from under
the roof. Tired of her complaining, her head was
forced down low against the pole. Then several wraps
around her neck and she was scratching and clawing.
Another couples of turns, this time around the pole and
neck silenced her. Out of necessity on hands and
knees, her neck unable to move, lashed tightly to the
pole. The annoying screeching stopped, replaced by a
whimper, as she tried to understand what had become of
her. A shadow of her nude form, sharp from the
tropical sun, stretched from her wrists and knees,
extending sexily over the dirt.
The old Land Rover easily pushed the helicopter
deep into the jungle. Two weeks and it would be
difficult to spot. Two months and at 3 meters you
would walk by without noticing. The ID numbers off the
helicopter were buried with the unfortunate pilot in an
unmarked grave. Maggie got a cross, at the edge of the
clearing. Needing company, Tiger followed me from the
fresh grave. Hot and exhausted I returned to the
chickee hut to enjoy a cool Fosters. Flies hovered
over her rear, already beet red from the late afternoon
sun, seeking whatever moisture available from her pussy
and ass. An old push type sprayer, once again came in
handy. Dusting her down with insect spray, a hint of
relief flashed across her face. Realizing that she
expected to have her head freed, I sat to enjoy a beer
as Tiger sniffed her. Uninterested he climbed into the
rafters, still mourning the loss of Maggie.
"Please mister, untie me. My neck hurts. My
knees are killing me." When I did not answer, she
continued. "Please, you got me." In a softer voice,
almost a whisper, "I won't run away." She paused
before adding, "just don't hurt me, you can do what you
want with me," she begged in that same meek voice.
"And I knew it was true."
Chapter 4 Making friends
I was untying her when I heard the truck coming
around the last bend. It was Kiran returning with the
supplies. He could not believe what he was seeing, a
naked girl standing in the clearing, the sun sparkling
on her shoulders, breasts and hair. Jumping out of the
Land Rover he walked around her twice while I brought
him up to date. Black on milky white skin, a blushing
pink nipple protruding between black fingers, he cupped
her breast in his hand. We sat and watched her unload
the truck, making trip after trip into the house barley
able to carry one box at a time, her breast damp with
beads of sweat, pressed flat against the carton,
barefoot, legs spread for balance, open to our
inspection. That is when I decided to keep her.
Cheryl collapsed in the dirt, obviously not used
to working and definitely not in this humidity. Kiran
went to pull her into the shade where I held a water
bottle to her mouth. Her hair flowed over my legs,
the back of her head bouncing on my cock as she sucked
eagerly from the squirt bottle. Her breasts were a
dusty brown from unloading, knees filthy, hands and
feet even dirtier.
Kiran was admiring her from the other end. He
shook his head when I asked if he ever had white meat.
"Go ahead, that is what she is here for."
I did not have to tell him twice. Cheryl started
whimpering but that did not bother Kiran, shorts went
flying and he was on her. I stoked her face and
looked into her eyes. Surprisingly, he knelt and
rubbed her sex. Her breathing became heavier her chest
flushed. Kiran's broad chest shinny with sweat, his
member engorged, stiffly erect he rammed into her. Her
body pressed against me as she tried to squirm away
from him. It was the first time I had actually watched
a couple fucking, from this close. Kiran chest was
heaving his black hands leaving trails in the
perspiration on her milky skin.
"Fuck him, bitch!"
Feet on the ground she thrust her body up to meet
his to a rhythm of slapping sounds. I brushed Tiger
off his back. His face a mask of anger, veins on his
neck throbbing, he screamed an animal guttural sound.
Her moans bust forth from clenched lips. When he
rolled off, her entire upper body was beet red, breasts
swollen, nipples still erect to my probing fingers.
Springing over her, I shoved myself into her mouth, my
prick feeling her tongue protect her throat. Pulling
her head and thrusting I was in, amidst gagging,
retching, but thrusting faster into that velvet ring
till her nose buried in my crotch held with both hands
as my prick bursting, shot fiery load after load down
her throat. Kiran knocked my arm, telling me to easy
my grip on her head. Her face sprang off me, gasping
for breath she rolled face down in the dirt.
Tiger, inquisitive as ever jumped on her back to
play. Catching scent of her amour his cock sprang
erect, humping on her ass as she lay flat on the
ground, he was unable to consummate his desire. Kiran
and I exchanged glances. He took her hands while I
raised the hips of the exhausted girl, pushing her legs
farther apart. Tiger knew what to do. He was bone
hard, his cock thin and long, poked into her.
Amazingly fast he humped her shooting his load into
Cheryl. I pulled her around to look her in the face.
She was dazed, far beyond humiliation, reduced to a
quivering animal trying to determine the wishes of her
new master.
Chapter 5 A Mission
"Cheryl has been completely domesticated. Ain't
that right Cheryl dear?"
"Yes sir."
"Paul, you spilled your drink. Cheryl will fill it
up for you. Ask her what her job is."
Without waiting to be asked, Cheryl answered, "To
do what I am told, sir." She had gotten to her feet,
with great care she stepped backwards while speaking,
careful to keep her heels from digging into the soft
forest floor. Returning with a fresh wine bottle, she
paused by the fire, aware by some female instinct of
the effect of the dying firelight flickering from below
on the red negligee. Her legs no longer fleshy plump
curves, but highly defined contours, lean thighs
angling up to a carefully trimmed pussy, hidden in the
shadow of the hem and a discretely raised knee. A silk
bow shimmers under tension of her cleavage, the upwards
light leaving a long curving shadow over a lace covered
breast. A soft curl rests delicately on the swell, just
above the lace. Her face is in shadow, but through the
haze of wine Paul sees her clearly.
"You. You have made her into a camp whore. She
is one of God's children, you can't do that."
"I already have."
"Let her go. You can't have whores, I mean
slaves. You can't have slaves or whores."
"But aren't you a slave, a slave to your Lord?"
"That is different. I had to. I mean I wanted to
serve the mission. To help others, I sacrifice myself.
I do without women, without sexual relief, no wife or
family only my Lord." Paul's hand again found the
cross.
"It is the same." David said softly. "Fate
intervened and I became her Lord. She is disciplined
but not abused. She serves her Lord like women have
done for longer than these trees have existed."
Paul stumbled to his feet. "You are mad. You
can't own a woman. Let her go."
"OK."
"I mean it, let her go. I will take her back,
whichever way that is. Let her go."
"She can go with you," Paul assured him. Cheryl
stood frozen by the fire, daring not to look at either
man. Kiran leaned forward in his seat, sure that he
misheard something. "She can go with you, if you are
the man you say you are. You came into my camp, lost
and hungry. I gave you food and drink and now you
criticize me. Well, mate, if you are as virtuous as
you say, then you can have Cheryl. Take the bitch. I
will give you directions to Nukobi, give you enough
petrol and off you go. But you have to prove it
first."
"Prove it. How? You are stronger than I am, but
if you want me to fight, with the Lords help I will
fight you."
"Paul, I am a peaceful man. Nothing so dramatic
as a fight. Just a simple test of desire. If you win,
Cheryl is yours. You can keep her, free her or sell her
in Bombay for all I care. But if I win, I want
something too."
"What?"
"I want your soul."
"What?"
"You heard me. If I win, I want you to stop the
hypocrisy. Give up your charade of not desiring a
woman. I can see through you. You are as hungry as I
am."
"You are mad."
"Perhaps. Do we have a deal? Good. We will seal
it with a hand shake." David held his hand and added,
"Preacher, I live in this forest, I know it better than
any man alive. When you leave here you will never see
us again, but I know the villages, I will know where
you are, where you are sleeping and what you have
said."
"Kiran, strip her."
"You too, preacher man. We will all get naked.
There are no secrets here, everything is out in the
open. Don't worry, it is all right to get an erection,
there is not a man alive that would not get a boner at
the sight of that pussy. Preacher, we are going to do
some things and by the end, if you still do not want to
fuck her, then you win. Easy enough for you?"
Please mister," Cheryl pleaded as Kiran raised
the little negligee over her outstretched arms.
"Be strong child," Paul replied, his eyes fixed on
her breasts as he anxiously fondled the silver cross.
David motioned for Kiran to gag the nude girl with
the red lingerie while he took a tent rope from the
truck. Paul stood helplessly by, awkwardly trying to
cover his growing erection with his hands as Cheryl was
led to the front of the Rover. Arms spread up and out,
David tied the girl face down across the bonnet. Other
ropes strained at her ankles, tied off to a dented
bumper. Delighting in her position, David brushed a
curl of hair from her neck. The vibrations from the
generator along with her trembling coursed through his
fingers. His hand ran down the bony ridge of her
spine, mixing into the swell of her rear, disappearing
into a tight crevice between hills round as globes.
Instinctively she squeezed her ass protectively tight,
but nature made the folds of her sex so easily
penetrable, pausing at the entrance, a slight circle
around the edge there will time for that later, now
upwards across the smooth spot then a ridge as she
shimmers to the touch, moaning into the gag. The
headlights blazed on both sides of the naked captive,
ropes are pulled tight, arms and legs stretched taunt
already a slight blue tint to the fingers, exposed and
vulnerable she waited.
"Preacher man you are going feel what it is like
to be her Lord. For a while you will be the only thing
that matters in her world. Kiran will show you how it
is done," David said, pulling a belt from the trousers
by his feet."
"Glad to," the native replied. Kiran took the
belt, shaking it a few times as if to get the feel. He
positioned himself to her left and laid the wide belt
across her ass, with a smack. The slap of leather,
against skin, shockingly different from the normal
forest sounds, rose over the hum of the generator.
Cheryl yelped, the cloth gag unable to withhold her
expulsion. Another across the shoulders left a
diagonal red mark, alarmingly dark red flowing from the
blow, consuming white flesh as the men watched with
admiration of her suffering. The next blow, overly
compensated was much lighter across the small of her
back. A second belt smacked across her ass with
shocking furry. David swung it again, harder and lower
catching where the swelling curve meets thigh, knowing
how much it will hurt when every step. Each blow to
Cheryl forcing her cries louder. The gag completely
worthless now, dangled over her chin. Each strap on
flesh causing bared muscles to ripple under flesh naked
to their eyes, as she tested her bindings. Ropes
pulling even tighter dug into her flesh, gaining only a
few centimeters, that somehow her shuddering body
demanded. Those few precious centimeters of movement
giving frayed nerves a way to expel pain.
Kiran, member erect, swollen and drooling,
focusing on her naked hip, but not without compassion
played the belt easily across the marked flesh. Slight
stinging blows, mixed with an occasional sharp smack,
just to keep her from getting too complacent.
David gave his belt to Paul, who held it over his
swollen member, looking up at David's fedora, the only
remnant of civilization in the forest.
"No, I can't."
"You must," David answered. You say it is wrong,
forbidden, un-natural. But to speak against temptation
you must first experience it. Feel what it is like to
control her. Stand where Kiran was. Now strap her
back. You can do it as easily as you like, but it is a
heavy belt and it will take a good swing to reach. Try
it. Feel it. Hit her."
"Forgive me, child. I do it for your freedom."
The belt swung glancing her hip. In her heightened
awareness it registered as another blow, she yelled,
her body twitching in the warm lights of the truck. A
smart girl, Cheryl tried not to arouse, but there is no
way to hide.
"You have to do better than that, mate. Take your
hands off your dam balls and do it again," David said,
the hysterically laughing of Kiran, bellowing behind
him.
Paul steadied himself with one hand against the
truck and swung the belt again, catching the girl with
the edge of the belt. Again she screamed, twitching in
the little room allowed to her. Intent on doing
better, Paul wiped his eyes, stroking the cross for
reassurance and swung again. His stiff cock swinging
around like a loose fire hose. The belt arced across
to find her back, the tip wrapping around, snapping on
tender flesh of the far breast. Cheryl jumped up, away
from the truck's bonnet only to be jerked down heavily
on her breasts by her own limbs. Her cries cut short
as the air is knocked from her chest.
"Good one, mister," Kiran exclaimed.
"I think I got it," Paul shouted, caught up in the
joy of the moment.
"Do it ..." A scream obscured David's words.
Cheryl had regained her breath, screaming in pain but
even greater at the humiliation and despair of being
whipped for their pleasure.
Again the belt flew as David asked, "Has this girl
ever done anything to hurt you?"
Paul mouthed the answer, his voice lost under
Cheryl's scream. The belt dropping to his feet.
Tenderly, the smile gone Paul traced a strap mark
across her back. Hypersensitive flesh shivered under
his touch. Like an electrical charge the energy flowed
through his arm, through his straining body, bouncing
his cock up against her sweaty leg that glimmered in
the headlights.
"That is enough, take her down." David ordered.
Pushed back to the hard ground beside the embers
of the dying camp fire, Cheryl was shoved to her knees.
David tied her wrists behind her back and pushed her
back straight. Kiran knew what that was for. He
planted his big feet inside of her knees, bending
slightly for a better height he held a shoulder in one
hand and the back of her head with the other. David
motioned Paul over to one side where he could see the
thick black cock, engorged veins wrapping around the
side, slick from salvia and sweat being forced into an
unwilling throat. Desperately the girl's head tried to
pull back for a better attempt, only to be forced
further deeper. The hand relaxed on her hair, Cheryl
regaining control of her head, snapping it back
grasping for air, looking frantically around, for mercy
before being forced back. Slicker, he shoves in, her
lips kiss his hair, only the hand on her shoulder, she
is impaled, her eyes' strain upwards to his, to gauge
performance. Shockingly quick, she is snapped down on
her back, her legs still tucked under her torso. Kiran
is ramming into her, he takes her hips and pulls her
back down towards him, furiously ramming in, again
pulling her hips into his, smothering her petite body
under his as he shudders in climax.
David immediately takes her by the shoulders,
standing her with arms raised, legs spread, in front of
Paul his throbbing cock nestled in the crack of her
fluttering ass. Cheryl stands, eyes still glazed over
from being fucked only seconds before, her face, neck
and chest red with excitement, breasts high her nipples
sticking out straight and hard. Her body glistens with
beads of sweat, pubic hair matted and wet. A slimy
trail of cum leaks down her leg. Breasts quiver as her
cervix orgasms at the thought of what is happening to
her. Kiran is still lying on his back behind her,
catching his breath.
A knife cuts the rope freeing her hands. Cheryl
is thrusted down on hands and knees. "OK, preacher,
remember you are going to resist temptation to save
this slut," David reminds him. "Kneel in front of her
head and hold her arms while I take her pussy from
behind."
Cheryl's body, slick with Kiran's sperm slid
easily over his probing cock. Her legs spread wide,
filled with excitement he pressed into the soft,
firmness of her cervix. Each push going deep into her
organs, a tiny flutter of his cock amplifying through
her entire body, her nervous system accepts only him,
unable to hide even the slightest of her feelings.
Body still seeking fulfillment, she spasms against his
erection. A shiver ripples from her clitoris flooding
through straining thighs, knees splay outward throwing
her on elbows in the dirt. Legs kicking free aside him,
her weight lifted by swollen ramming meat hammering
against cervix, eyes dilated unable to see, mouth open
she gasps heavily for breath at Paul's lap. Her
windpipe chokes at the warm meat eagerly thrust inward.
Her body repulses, the mind completely overwhelmed,
functioning on instinct, fighting for breath, unable to
distinguish where, her head unable to pull off of the
cock, unable to breath expecting to pass out, she
convulses, a fire engulfs her stomach, her entire body
quakes again, her throat burns now totally sealed,
desperate for air everything turning black, and her
head springs free. Collapsing face down in the dirt
she heaves against the thick cum lining her airway as
she hacks for breath. Her savior has come in her
throat.
Paul has fallen on his backside, staring at the
trees. He rolls over and is above Cheryl. Her back is
a series of crisscrossing welts. It dose not take much
to turn her. She is a mess. Dirt clings to her
sweating, cum stained body. The cum at her mouth and
legs is black with soil. She coughs again, spittle
drips from the side of her mouth leaving another dirty
trail of slime down her chin, inching down her neck.
Paul pulls her head to his cock, "Suck me hard Cheryl."
-Stroker Ace-
an409775@anon.penet.fi
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