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K R I S T E N' S C O L L E C T I O N
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Archive name: thepit.txt (M+/F, nc, v)
Authors name: Dircat (dircat@hotmail.com)
Story title : Pit, The
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This work is copyrighted to the author © 2002. Please
don't remove the author information or make any changes
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The Pit (M+/F, nc, v)
by Dircat (dircat@hotmail.com)
***
A young wife agrees to do anything the soldiers demand
to save her life.
***
It was dark and stuffy. She had squeezed into the narrow
space as soon as she heard the soldiers breaking down
the front door. Not for the first time that week she had
given thanks to God that her husband had the foresight
to dig the pit beneath the cellar floor. Just enough
space for her to lie down in, flat on her back, and with
the opening hidden by the wooden frame covered in the
same carpet material the rest of the cellar floor had
been.
"As soon as you hear anything, anything you understand,
get your arse down into the cellar and into the pit." He
had said in that gruff, severe voice he used whenever he
wanted his orders to be followed.
"Don't worry," she had replied, "I'll be alright.
Nothing's going to keep me up here in the house if
there's danger around."
"Good." And he had ruffled her short hair as if she were
a boy and smiled that smile of affection that made him
look so young.
They had made love. It was his last night at home before
he went to join his group in the mountains and the
intensity of his passion had shaken her physically and
mentally.
In the four years they had been together she had become
familiar with his moods. And she knew just how loving
and careful he could be in his desire to please her
before he pleased himself. But that night, his last,
there had been something in his lovemaking that was
different. It wasn't lovemaking. It was unbridled lust.
He had moved her into positions she had rarely been
placed before and as his cock had split her vagina wide
open with its girth and he had begun a frantic thrusting
into her body, she had gone with him. All the way.
Recognising his need.
She had felt him, hard and insistent, smashing into her
loins and she had placed her hands on his buttocks to
pull them apart. Her fingers had played up and down his
crack, stroking his anus, scratching gently at the
tender inner skin of his arse cheeks. He had placed her
legs on both his shoulders, raising himself much higher
than she was, and had plunged down like a roller coaster
into her wet and willing cunt.
Her breath had been forced from her lungs in long, loud
grunts with each downward plunge and she had felt her
hips almost creak with the force of his thrusts. Then as
she had felt his climax approaching she had corkscrewed
one of her index fingers into his anus, sliding it as
deep as she could into his dry rectum. Her husband had
groaned, grabbed her by the back of the head and had
pulled her roughly against his chest, squashing her nose
against his soft hairs. She had accepted the discomfort
and with her finger still embedded deep in his arse and
making small thrusting motions of its own, she had
licked and nibbled on his small hard nipples.
He had groaned once again and then had flooded her with
spurt after spurt of his sperm. She thought it would
never end, and it seemed to fill her to capacity. But
end it finally did and he had withdrawn, lay by her side
and had embraced her gently.
One more time before he left they had made love, but the
second time it was she who had taken the initiative.
Bent double on her side she had suckled his testicles.
Sucking gently on one delicate ball, then the other in
turn. Her fingers once again had played a light staccato
against his anus, and once again his rectum had been
invaded by her probing index.
He had caught his breath as she eased the digit further
into him then he had begun a short, sharp panting. His
penis had grown longer and thicker and she had followed
it with her tongue until it had risen to its full length
and width. It was then she had raised her head slightly
and had taken the rock hard end into her mouth.
She had felt no passion, no lust. Instead her feelings
had been of overwhelming tenderness and love for the man
she had held in her arms as she had pulled his sexual
organ deep into the back of her throat and then, with a
series of rapid swallowing motions had allowed it to
enter her gullet.
She had crooned around the head of the penis, the sound
vibrating against the sensitive skin, causing it to grow
even more rigid in its soft, moist sheath. Then she had
raised her head allowing the cock to slide back out over
her tongue, over her lips until it had stood in front of
her face. A totem to be worshipped. She had once again
engulfed it with her mouth but this time she had begun
slow sliding motions up and down its length. Then as the
minutes had passed and his urgency had became more
pronounced she had guessed correctly that it was time to
relax her gullet and once again had taken him deep
within her body.
Even as she had swallowed the last of him his spunk had
begun shooting directly down into the depths of her
belly. She had held her breath letting the sperm slide
down with no obstacle to stay its path. She had been
determined to let him finish before she withdrew from
his body. It had felt sticky and warm as it had
descended towards its journey's end, but eventually, the
continuous stream had become single spurts, then
nothing.
Still gently, not wishing to spoil the moment for her
man, she had eased her head back up until her gullet and
airways had been clear. Then she had allowed herself to
draw a long rasping breath. She had smothered his taut,
trembling stomach with a multitude of kisses from her
swollen, saliva covered, lips. And eventually both of
them had quieted and become still.
As he had recovered he had pulled her upwards until they
had been lying eye to eye and, for the last time, they
had slept.
In the darkness of the pit Marina remembered. And in
remembering she could blot out the sound of boots, and
shouts and furniture breaking upstairs. Then the cellar
door opened with its customary creek. Footsteps came
down the wooden stairs and for the first time Marina
felt fear. She held her breath, trying to still her
rapidly beating heart, as the boots walked around the
cellar keeping close to the wall.
A voice cried from above, "Anything down there?"
"No nothing just a lot of old junk."
"Well come on up then. We've got a lot to do before
nightfall."
"OK."
The footsteps walked directly across the cellar floor
directly onto the carpet-covered panel covering her
hiding place. She screwed her eyes tightly shut as the
boots made a different sound as they walked over the
wooden panel. The soldier paused and then lightly
stamped his heels against the entrance to her secret
hideaway.
'God, no please no.' she murmured to herself waiting for
the inevitable. Then with a final small tap the boots
moved on and the sound of them disappeared up the
stairs.
Marina was fainting from a mixture of fear and relief
and as the sounds outside in the village continued, she
lay there in the dark and the heat, not daring to move,
almost not daring to breathe. The noise went on for
hours. Screams and pleas from terrified women, the
sounds of gunfire from fusillades of shots, soldiers
shouting, officers ordering and now and then the dull
thud of mortar fire with its accompanying vibration
reached Marina deep in her sanctuary.
She had forgotten the boots. At first she had lain there
terrified that she had been discovered. But as time
passed and nobody lifted the panel to expose her to the
sunlight, she began to feel safer. She could only assume
that the boots had paused by coincidence, and that the
gently tap.tap on the cellar floor was made by a soldier
deep in thought, and not testing the echo she, herself,
had heard so loudly.
Sometime later when she awoke from one of the many naps
she had taken during those long hours she discovered
that the sounds had vanished. She could hear nothing
from outside but the faint crackling of flames as they
consumed the last of the village buildings. She decided
to take the risk and slowly, carefully, she pushed at
the wooden panel until it lifted free and she could
slide it over to one side.
It was night. And it was cold. Now that she was in the
open she could smell the smoke and the burnt remains of
whatever the fires had consumed. And the noise seemed
almost deafening after so long listening to it through
the sturdy floor of the room upstairs and the entrance
to the pit. Unsteadily she rose to her feet and made her
way to where the stairs were.
Slowly, one by one she trod on the steps, until at last
she was in the main body of her home. It seemed strange
and at first, in the darkness, she couldn't quite see
what the difference was. Then she realised that most of
it had been destroyed and where once there had been four
sturdy walls and a roof there was now only a ruined
shell. She glanced upwards and saw the stars glistening
far above her. Involuntarily she placed her knuckles
against her lips and chewed them until the pain made her
aware, and alert, once again.
There was no moon and she stumbled towards her front
garden. Walking slowly to avoid the scattered bricks and
masonry that threatened to bring her down, she edged her
way forward until at last she felt grass beneath her
feet.
"Stop there. Don't move." The voice was low; almost a
whisper and the suddenness of it brought an involuntary
shriek from her lips.
"And don't scream." The voice was insistent.
Automatically she did what was required and stood frozen
in silent acquiescence.
"That's better."
In front of her a shadow, darker than the other shadows,
detached itself from the large tree that stood in the
garden and which had, miraculously, survived the
carnage. The soldier came closer until he was standing
close. He reached out an arm.
"Take my hand. Don't argue. You have no choice."
She did as he requested, realising that anything less
would lead to her instant death, and as she stretched
out her own arm towards him she felt his strong fingers
grip her wrist. He led her out of the garden, away from
the ruins of her house and down the road towards the
outskirts of the village. He remained silent and she
followed the same. She recognised what had been the
priest's house as they passed and wondered, fleetingly,
what had become of that kindly old man. But her thoughts
did not linger long.
They soon came to a track on the left that the soldier
took and she found herself approaching the dark barn of
her friend Anna's farm. The soldier paused in front of
the wooden double door and knocked.
Three.pause.two.pause then three more raps announced his
presence and the door opened swiftly to allow them
inside.
Blinking in the first light she had seen since that
morning she looked around, examining her surroundings.
There were three of them, four counting the soldier who
still gripped her wrist, and they looked at her with a
mixture of lust and admiration.
"Well, well. This is better than I had hoped." The one
who spoke had a three-day growth of beard and eyes red
from lack of sleep. Marina knew what was about to happen
and had already decided to do what these men wanted.
There was no point in fighting them and if she could
satisfy them in her own way then she may just get away
with her life.
"Yes. I think you're right. We've got ourselves a pretty
little chicken here." The second man laughed as he spoke
and took a swig from a bottle he had been holding.
"Right. You know why you're here. And we haven't time to
try and be too friendly, but if you scratch our backs,
so to speak, we'll scratch yours. Do you understand?"
Marina nodded. "I said do you understand. I want you to
say it."
"Y.yes. I understand. I will please you in anyway I can.
I just ask that afterwards you let me go."
"But of course. What's the point in keeping you around.
You'll only be one more mouth to feed," and he laughed
again.
"Right," said the soldier who had brought her to this
place, "strip and go over to the straw."
There was no eroticism in the way she discarded her
clothes. It was as if she was preparing for bed back in
her warm home. She was soon naked and walked over to
where the soft straw was scattered about the floor. She
stood there waiting. Facing the men. She felt no shame
or embarrassment. What was to be, was to be and nothing
on earth or in heaven could stop it now.
She followed their commands as they spoke to her.
"Raise your arms above your head and turn around
slowly."
"Grab your tits, squeeze them. Make them bounce. Pinch
the nipples."
"Put your hands between your legs and rub yourself.
Faster!"
"Put your fingers in your mouth and lick them clean."
On and on it went and she complied with each order. She
bent forward and grabbing her buttocks in both hands
pulled them apart to expose the small, wrinkled anus to
their view. She stretched the lips of her labia apart
showing the gaping cavern the movement had created. And
she completed each act without a thought, without any
emotion. She was just following a programme of events
that would lead, eventually, to her release.
"Right, that's enough," the man with the exhausted eyes
said, "lie down flat on your back and spread those
lovely legs of yours."
Marina did as she was told and waited.
The first man approached and lay on top of her naked
body, and with no preliminaries fed his hardening cock
into her vagina. She was already wet from the acts the
men had made her perform and so the stranger's penis
slid easily into her body. She curled her long legs over
his back and placed her arms around his shoulders,
pulling him closer.
He began rutting in earnest and as his long strokes
turned into short stabbing ones, Marina felt her own
passion rise within her body. She felt no shame, knowing
it was a physical thing. That love and tenderness had no
part in it. She ground her hips against his and soon his
beer-laden breath expelled directly into her face as his
sperm flooded her womb. He lay there for a second, then
rose to stand upright, studying her perspiring body, a
look of puzzlement on his face.
The second man took his turn almost invisibly. The sex
act was over in minutes and Marina felt nothing. No
entrance, no ejaculation and no withdrawal. After it was
over, if in fact it had actually begun, the man
scrambled to his feet and went back to the other side of
the barn.
It was the third man who gave Marina the climax that had
been building up in her. And it was the fourth who gave
her the second.
Afterwards for a while they left her alone and she took
the opportunity to use some of the straw to wipe away
the perspiration running down her naked flesh. She
didn't mop the sperm running out of her vagina,
preferring to let it expel itself completely from her
body.
But soon they called her across to where they were
sitting on bales of hay and one by one she took their
cocks into her mouth and sucked them to ejaculation. Her
mouth and throat became coated with the white slime as
it shot from their bodies into hers. One, she thought it
was the one with the red eyes, whom she now thought of
as their leader, wanted to deep throat her.
But unlike the time a week before, (was it only a week?)
when she had performed the act on her husband, on this
man she found it impossible. Her gag reflex relentlessly
pushed him out of her throat until he had to be
satisfied with fucking her mouth like he would her cunt.
After the oral gangbang they gave her a bottle of beer
which she guzzled down gratefully, clearing the
stickiness from her mouth.
Then they made her get onto her hands and knees.
Her husband had buggered her on many an occasion and
although she didn't mind the feeling of intrusion into
her rectum she preferred not to do it. But this time she
had no choice and the men sensing her reluctance began
acting more boisterously. She rocked backwards and
forwards as each cock widened her anus and thrust deep
into her bowels.
She was forced to work harder at their pleasure and her
flesh once again became wet, not with gently
perspiration, but with running streams of sweat that
invaded every part of her body. Her short hair turned
darker from the liquid and her eyes stung as it ran
beneath her lids. The sounds in the barn became a
mixture of moans, groans, gasps and the slapping of wet
skin against wet skin. The men seemed to be able to keep
going longer and she was buggered by all four of them
for a very long time.
But eventually it was over and she was left gasping for
air as the sperm oozed from her enlarged anus to run
down the insides of her sore and bruised thighs. She
drank another bottle of beer that was offered and gave a
lop-sided smile at the four soldiers. They smiled back
and raised their own bottles in salute. Whether it was a
tribute to her sexual prowess or just a drunken salute
in return she didn't know. And she didn't care. She knew
what she had to do.
Over the next two hours one or another of them called
upon her to carry out a specific sexual act. Two she
hadn't tried before and she had to use all of her inner
strength not to vomit as she was complying with the
demand. But she kept her control. And she kept awake.
Soon she was the only one who wasn't snoring gently from
an excess of alcohol and exhaustion, although she
herself wanted nothing more than to rest her head on the
straw and fall into a deep and dreamless sleep. Instead
she rose and dressed swiftly in the gathering light. She
dared not delay as she had learned from the men's talk
that they were to be relieved at dawn and she definitely
did not want to be around when that happened.
Finally, ready to go, she went over to their equipment
and unclipped four hand grenades. Walking swiftly to the
barn door she placed them on the ground and extracted
the pins. She had no knowledge of how to handle them and
she had no time to carry out the customary count and so
she just took out each pin as swiftly as she could and
rolled each grenade towards the four sleeping soldiers.
She was scared by the time she rolled the third one and
so the fourth she threw wildly, trusting the first would
explode before the men awoke from the noise of the
fourth as it dropped onto the barn floor. Then she
turned her back on the building and fled as fast as she
could.
She stumbled and tripped but kept her feet until, behind
her, the first grenade exploded with a heavy warrump!
She fell then, clasping her hands to her ears, shocked
at the noise and the vibration of an explosion so near.
Then the second grenade exploded forcing her into
action. She staggered to her feet once again and ran and
stumbled as fast as she could back to her house.
Behind her, as she ran, she heard the other two grenades
explode. Soon she reached her own front garden scrambled
over the ruined wall of what had once been her kitchen
and stumbled down the stairs to the cellar.
It only took a few seconds to lay on her back in the pit
and cover herself over with the wooden panel and there,
in the darkness and the heat once again, she fell into a
deep, exhausted sleep.
She slept through the search made by the soldiers
hunting the killers of the four dead men and she slept
through the small retaliatory skirmish that took place
later in the afternoon that drove the invaders away.
The first thing she became aware of was the panel being
lifted and placed on one side as her husband, his weapon
still held tightly in his hand, looked anxiously down at
his wife as she lay flat on her back in the pit.
END
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life in
anyway shape or form.
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