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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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Stranded
by Mellanie Hewlitt (mellaniehewlitt@hotmail.com)
***
The relentless heat and humidity, that was what she
felt over the last 3 days in this living hell hole.
Deep in no man's land, somewhere within the foreboding
bowels of the vast and untamed Amazon rain forest lay
the mangled wreckage of the DC10. (MMF, nc, gang-rp,
intr, orgy, bd)
***
The plane was in route from Manhattan's Newark airport
to Peru, South America with its 20 passengers
comprising models, photographers, agents from Sports
Illustrated when it was caught in a freak thunderstorm.
Smoke still trailed from the smoldering remains of the
two Rolls Royce engines. One had failed when a million
bolts of electricity seized its turbines, and it was a
testament to the engineering feat of its makers that
the remaining engine had kept the plane aloft in the
freak storm for another 3 hours before it too finally
succumbed, not to mother nature, but to lack of
aviation fuel.
Now, Denise Sanders was all alone in a hostile alien
environment. She was hopping that the pilot had a
chance to send out the SOS transmitting their
approximate location, and had stayed in the scattered
wreckage for the last three days surviving on scraps of
air-line meals
Denise was a survivor. She had to be in order to get to
where she currently was, as top model and cover girl
for Sports Illustrated Swimwear. She will survive. She
had to, there was no other option. These were the words
that occupied her mind constantly.
At a relatively young and tender age of 24 years, she
had already risen through the ranks of most of her
peers to take poll position on the covers of the
tabloids. Of cause the fact that she was a stunning
brunette beauty with long luscious hair, a lithe
willowy figure with wasp's waist, snowy white
complexion and nice firm natural 32B breasts, stood her
in good stead.
It did not help her present predicament that they were
enroute to a formal evening wear shoot and she was
still wearing a body hugging white silk gown. Day time
temperatures in the rain forest reached 38 degrees
Celsius and after three continuous days of wear in the
moist humid environment, the fine silk fabric now stuck
to her constantly moist body like a second skin.
Most of the exotic gowns had no relevance in this
hostile environment. What she would not give for a good
pair of jeans and long sleeved overalls to afford her
some shelter from the biting insects. And a nice hot
bath to wash of several days of perspiration that had
accumulated in this hot and humid jungle.
With nightfall, the discomfort of the tropical heat was
replaced with the cold fear that accompanied the cloak
of darkness which engulfed the thick jungle canopy. She
had been paralyzed with fear on the first night, lying
curled in fetus position in the remains of the business
class cabin in a thick blanket of darkness as the
nocturnal life forms of the jungle went about their
usual business for the night. Except for an inquisitive
anteater who wandered into the wreckage looking for a
meal, she was left unmolested.
The second night was a different story. The decent of
the DC10 had not gone un-noticed by the locals. In fact
the native tribe had already scouted the parameters of
the crash site to investigate the latest "offering from
the gods" fearing to come any closer for fear of
invoking the wrath of the havens.
But as the wreckage lay dormant and silent, save for a
wisp of smoke from its mangled turbines, they become
more bold on the second night and ventured closer. She
was aware of their presence as she heard voices in the
dark, but followed her instinct and stayed well within
the confines of the cabin.
Denise realized she would have to vacate her temporary
home soon. The DC10 was reserved exclusively for the
modeling crew of 20 from Sports Illustrated (10 models
along with make-up artists, photographers, agents and
designers) and she was the only sole survivor.
The original impact had strewn some of the bodies far
from the wreckage as the plane had broken into two
separate pieces. However, there remained at least 4
corpses in her make-shift home (3 models and a
photographer). She had dragged them to the far end of
the wreckage (away from her sleeping cot), but in the
humid tropical heat, they were already in a state of
decay, and in another few days the stench from the
decomposition would fill the small cabin, attracting
unwelcome visitors.
She knew it was only a matter to time before the water
supply and food ratios ran-out and she had to relocate,
otherwise her temporary shelter would become her
permanent tomb.
But she was also torn by indecision. She knew that a
search party would have been organized, and there was
also a chance the pilot has transmitted their last
known co-ordinates before the plane went down, so the
search party would narrow down the geographic area of
their search. And there was also a chance they would be
able to spot the scattered remains of the DC10 wreckage
from the air. The last thing she wanted was to have a
rescue party descend from the havens onto the wreckage
after she had left.
After pondering over her dilemma, Denise took stock of
her food and water ratios and estimated they would last
her another week at most. She decided to stay put for
another 3 days and devised a plan allocate the daylight
hours to do a reconnaissance of the immediate area to
seek out a source of fresh water and a safer abode.
As the golden rays of the early morning sun penetrated
the thick jungle foliage, marking the start off the
fourth day, she slipped on the size 11 boots that she
had taken from the dead pilot and started her trek
north (or what she thought was north), always taking
care to keep the wreckage within visual range.
The boots were much too big for her dainty size 7 feet,
but stiletto heels were the last thing she needed in a
rain forest. And she needed some protection from the
creepy crawlies that wandered the dense underbrush of
the rain forest.
The early freshness of the morning dew was quickly
dissipated by the stifling heat of the tropical jungle
as the sun climbed higher into the sky. High above her
head the thick canopy of leaves gave some shady
respite, but also served to trap the heat in.
After one hour of brisk trekking, Denise was bathed in
perspiration, the fine silk gown clung damply to her
moist skin. It was a USD2000 Armani classic and she had
no doubt its designer would be turning in his grave if
he saw the torn and tattered state of his work. She had
also added to the damage by shearing off the bottom
half of the dress, below her knees, so she could walk
faster and easier. This was no way to treat a USD2000
art work, but survival took precedence and practicality
was the order of the day.
Unable to endure the stifling heat, she paused for
awhile and took a grateful sip from her plastic Evian
bottle. She looked back and was reassured to see the
distant wreckage of the DC10, with its cockpit section
suspended high in the canopy of branches.
She casually scanned ahead again, and suddenly froze as
her eyes settled upon another pair of eyes in the thick
foliage ahead that gazed back intently at her. She was
not alone, and it was quite likely they had been
tracking her for quite some time. The pair of brown
eyes continued their appraisal of her, patiently
waiting for her next move.
She took a hesitant step back, were they hostile or
friendly? Her fear mounted as her stalker emerged from
the shadows. He was huge and totally nude, carrying a
long spear. As he approached her, she spied a necklace
with small shrunken human skulls decorating his neck.
That made up her mind for her and she turned heels and
ran as fast as her legs could carry her, making a bee
line back to the wreckage.
A quick glance over her shoulders indicated her stalker
was giving chase. His long limbs carrying him
gracefully and effortlessly over the uneven jungle
terrain, quickly narrowing the distance between them.
She ran faster, stumbling several times in the heavy
size 11 boots. As she neared the familiar wreckage, she
turned around and was relieved to see the native no
longer in sight. Suddenly, a bolo sprang from out of no
where, wrapping itself tightly around her lower calf
and tripping her in mid-flight.
She landed in an ungraceful heap and was momentarily
stunned with the wind knocked out of her. Immediately
she struggled to rid herself of the tight coiled rope
that snared her feet, but was too late as the huge
Negro approached. She pushed herself backwards
desperately trying to place some distance between them,
but it was hopeless. As he raised his spear, she closed
her eyes, praying for a quick and merciful end.
The silence of the jungle was broken by a single shot,
followed by the thud of a falling body. She opened her
eyes again and saw the now lifeless body of the Negro
strewn across her feet, eyes still open and staring
uncomprehendingly, with a single bullet hole gaping on
his forehead. Gratefully she whispered a quick prayer
of thanks to the gods and struggled free of the tangled
bolos.
Turning around she started to thank her savior ...but
the words stuck in her mouth as she took stock of the
band of seven men before her.
"Well, well, well, what have we here, a gift from the
gods wont u say...and doesn't she look absolutely
delicious," sneered a bearded pot bellied man
"Geeze, you are goddamn right, the closest I can get to
broads like her is on the covers of those flashy
magazines," another man with a scarred face said.
A third moved closer and said; "That's probably where
she came from, she's probably from the plane that went
down four days back carrying them models, its all over
the radio... and there's a nice reward for her too"
Denise sensed a ray of hope; "Yes there is, you have
been so kind all of you, if you can just take me to the
nearest town, and the local authorities, I can contact
my agency to arrange settlement of the reward."
The fat bearded one laughed; "Yes a hundred grand would
come in useful, that would be about 3 rhino horns or a
couple of elephant tusks... but you on the other hand
are a god send, none of us had any proper women meat in
quite a few years, not in this stink hole and not if u
count the cheap smelly native whores here...you are
prime meat." And he licked his lips with relish.
In horror she realized that they were poachers and
smugglers. All of them were armed, and all of them were
staring at her with undisguised lust. The fat one
approached her grabbing her by her arm; "what are we
waiting for boys, she smells mighty nice from here and
I wanna get up close and personal."
"No wait, we all want to go first," said Scar Face,
"look at her, a kiss of what lies between those legs
and I would die a happy man."
"Over my dead body... she's mine first you wait your
turn," Growled Fatty.
"Put it to the vote man, we settle it like we do our
hunt, whoever brings down the prey gets first go,"
suggested Scar Face.
The other 5 men nodded in silence. A look of
frustration and rage came over Fatty's face. He pulled
Denise to him and forced his mouth on to hers for a
long kiss before reluctantly releasing her; "You will
be mine soon," he sneered.
Scar Face nodded to her and said: "Don't you want your
freedom... RUN!"
Again she took flight, spurred on instinctively by
mortal fear. But deep down, Denise knew it was a
hopeless race. There were 7 of them, they were bigger,
stronger and meaner, and they knew the terrain. But she
had to take the one last chance, the alternative was
just to give-up, and she was no quitter. Denise was a
winner, she thought to herself, and she would not go
down this way, and not to this band of half baked
uncivilized cavemen.
A quick glance behind indicated strangely that none of
the poachers had given chase. Encouraged, she stepped
up the pace, plunging blindly into the thick foliage.
Suddenly a hairy arm reached from behind and painfully
caught hold of a fist full of her long flying hair. It
was Fatty again and he had obviously taken a short cut,
anticipating her route.
She was more agile and nimble, turning quickly she
delivered a well aimed kick at his crotch which caught
him totally off-guard. His face contorted in pain
causing him to loosen his grip on her long mane of
black hair, and she seized the opportunity to take
flight again, in a different direction.
She did not get very far when Scar Face appeared
directly in front of her. Failing to stop I time she
flew right into his open arms. She could smell his
putrid unwashed stench as he pulled her to him, one
grubby hand reaching for her bosom while the other
sought out her crotch. But her body and limbs were
still slick and slippery with her perspiration, she
twisted around and brought her knee upward with all her
strength between his legs.
For the second time she was lucky and the stunned
poacher let her go, cursing under his breath. Quickly
she turned blindly to the right again running on. Again
another poacher appeared in front of her and she
deviated, the process repeated itself several times
over until she lost count of the number of directional
changes she made.
Realizing she was totally lost only added to her state
of panic. They were herding her, running her down much
like a pack of wolves would take turn to pace its prey.
Each wolf in the pack would give chase for awhile,
herding the prey in the desired direction, before a
fresh member of the pack took over.
The trees and branches tore at her clothes and exposed
flesh, leaving small minute cuts, but she pushed on,
willing her tired legs into motion. She felt her lungs
sucking in air as her body struggled to maintain her
running pace. It was now high noon and her prolonged
physical exertion, together with the afternoon heat had
drained her body. She could feel the build up of heat
and beads of sweat covered her entire body as the
cooling system in her fast tiring body struggled to
cool it down.
She stopped abruptly realizing that she had stumbled
into a small clearing with a ram shackled house
directly in front. Looking desperately around she
realized she had been herded into the edge of a cliff
with only the route back being the only available
option. Perhaps there was help behind those doors, she
thought as she stumbled up the front door banging on it
like a mad woman. But it stayed silently close. Looking
back she could see Fatty casually strolling up the
path, followed by the other poachers.
"Please help me!" she cried in desperation as she
hammered the door again.
At last the heavy oak door creaked open and she was
greeted by a huge fat woman with a shot-gun, viewing
her suspiciously.
"Please help me, they are after me, please, I have
money, there is a reward for me alive!" she pleaded.
With a casual waive of the barrel the Fat Woman
gestured for her to enter the house.
"Oh thank you so much ma'am, I will reward you, where
is your phone please, you have to lock and bolt the
door, there are 7 of them."
"Don't cha worry sweety, the phone is in the bedroom,
you go call them authorities while I hold the pack of
them off." Smiled the Fat Woman.
Denise quickly stumbled into the bedroom. It was dim
and musky with a heavy unwashed odor. After a few
minutes she spied the phone in a far corner and
snatched it up, but the line was dead. She tapped the
cradle several times to no avail and made her way again
to the living room.
"Ma'am your phone is dead, is there another one I..."
Her voice trailed off as she stumbled into the living
room. Fatty had deposited his bulk comfortably on the
stained sofa, and the other 6 poachers had also
wandered in.
"Looks like you got acquainted with our latest guest
Meg," he laughed.
The Fat Woman responded; "Well look at the catch you
boys took home today. You were lucky you got here in
time, was just about to blow her cotton pickin' brains
out."
She realized her position now truly hopeless. She had
been herded right into the heart of the wolf's den, and
the pack were all hungry for dinner. She tried to
negotiate;
"All of you think, USD100k is a lot of money... it's
not worth it."
Fatty smiled: "We have been through this before,
poaching is a profitable profession, but in this part
of no-man's land the best whore that money can buy is
Meg here."
Meg shouted: "Fuck you fatty!"
He laughed and continued: "Meg here has been servicing
our boys for a good 2-3 years now. All 7 of us, 3 times
a day each, you can imagine the physical toll on her,
even for a woman of her size."
Scar Face chimed in: "Meg's no woman, she's a fucking
whale... we want a piece of little Miss Mupphet here.
In fact, looking at both of them its hard to believe
they are the same species, let alone the same sex."
Meg: "Fuck you too, you certainly had no problems
performing this morning."
Scar Face: "That's before our little Miss Mupphet paid
us this visit, now I just wanna suck-up every drop of
fluid from her sweet body."
Fatty stood-up: "So you see, its not a question of
money here, to us, you are priceless coz no amount of
money will fetch a prime catch like you."
Scar Face inched forward eagerly : "Enough talk, want a
piece of her now, I can smell her all the way from
across the room, yummy."
Fatty snarled: "You wait your turn, I bagged her first,
take her into the bed room and tie her up."
Denise was determined to resist to the death. She
managed to elude or slip out of the first few hairy
paws. But they closed in on her together, expertly
handling her as they would do for any other life-stock.
Fatty finally twisted both her arms painfully behind
her back and half dragged and carried her onto the
massive bed.
He forcefully brought her arms over her head and
handcuffed them to the bed posts. She tried to fight
but her body was too tired from the run and her legs
quickly gave in as rough pairs of hand parted them and
handcuffed her feet to the bed posts.
Fatty wasted no time, "Lets start the ball rolling..."
he whispered hoarsely and he quickly tore the silky
gown from her body, staring lewdly at her white lithe
body clad only in her lacy bra and undies.
He quickly undid her bra, it was damp with her
perspiration and he buried his nose in it inhaling;
"Aahh there is no smell like that of a young lass...
here is some appetizers for you lads," he flung the
lacy bra to eagerly waiting hands amidst whoops of
delight.
Denise could feel the cold air making contact with her
damp skin and nipples. She flinched as Fatty bent
eagerly forward taking her right breast in his mouth
and sucking hungrily, while his dirty paw groped and
massage her left breast, mauling her and twitching her
non-responsive nipples painfully between his fingers.
"God you smell even better then you look," he grunted,
sniffing the length of her naked body like a dog, he
slowly worked his way up her side to the sensitive
cleft of her left arm-pit and covered the damp area
with his mouth and nose, inhaling her musky natural
odor.
"Enough with the preliminaries, gotta get me a whiff of
your sweet puss and taste the golden pot of honey," he
leered. He roughly reached for her white lacy panties
and impatiently ripped the fine material from her.
Taking a moment, he again inspected the damp under
garment and buried his nose in it. "More appetizers
coming up boys, wait till you get a whiff of this
fragrant snatch," he said as he tossed the flimsy
material to eagerly waiting hands.
She was totally nude now, tied and spread eagled to the
bed, surrounded by the wolf pack. Trembling and feeling
vulnerable and exposed, she could feel 6 pairs of eager
eyes roaming up and down the length of her naked body.
"Now for the real thing." As his head disappeared
between her legs, Denise could feel her body tense in
preparation for the invasion. She inhaled sharply as
she felt the tip of his coarse tongue roughly exploring
her tender vagina. Fatty was not gentle and he pushed
his tongue as far into her small orifice as it would
go, before attempting to cover her entire entrance with
his mouth and sucking noisily like a dog, trying to
capture the accumulation of Denise's fragrant essence
over the past 4 days.
Not content to just subjecting her vagina to his oral
abuse, he trusted both hands above his head and cupped
each soft firm breast in each hand, squeezing painfully
and bruising her tender flesh before seeking out each
nipple between his fingers and twitching tem painfully.
Denise tried to twist and turn to toss him away, but
his bulk was too much for her slight model's frame and
she was helplessly pinned under his beefy arms.
Suddenly, she shuddered as his wondering tongue made
contact with the sensitive nub of her clitoris. Fatty
sensed her body tensing; "Hey look ladies, I think I
found our ice-queen's G spot, lets see me make her melt
into molten lava."
Relentlessly he lashed at her clitoris again and again
with his tongue, teasing it before taking the nub
entirely in his mouth and sucking on it. Slowly, he was
able to tease the sensitive nub into an involuntary
state of arousal.
He paused to examine his handy work; "You like it don't
you, you fucking whore, come on admit it."
When she did not answer, he took the sensitive erect
nub between his teeth and ground them gently. Denise
let out an ear piercing scream as the sharp pain
brought with it a flood of warm sensations that washed
over her loins.
"Ok, now for my grand entrance, that's what your little
puss here is aching for, well its gonna have a lot of
company and house-guests pretty soon, starting with me
big brother here."
Fatty stood up and tore off his jacket revealing a huge
blubber of fat. To her utter disgust she noticed that
he had not been circumcised. His foreskin hung over the
penis like some diseased, rotting outer layer.
Denise was determined to resist to the death. But she
was tied to the bed in a spread eagled position, still,
she twisted and turn her body, trying to evade the
mammoth phallus. It looked obscene and dirty, seeming
to throb in eager anticipation as it moved ever closer
to her small sensitive orifice. She realized in horror
that the other poachers and Meg had settled around the
room enjoying the spectacle.
This infuriated her all the more. Gathering a mouth
full of saliva, she spat the glob of fluid straight at
Fatty's face. It landed on his face trickling down his
right cheek. He paused for awhile, and scooped the
saliva from his face brought it to his mouth, sucking
on it like a candy "Yummy, so sweet, almost as sweet as
the nectar from your honey-port below."
"Well you can have some more," Denise shot back, but
before she got any further, a heavy hand slammed into
her face. Fatty back handed her face three times in
quick succession.
"We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way,
you decide. I prefer the hard way so just give me more
openings like this."
As her world stopped spinning, the coppery bitter taste
of blood filled her mouth. Still reeling from the
blows, she was totally unprepared as Fatty tried to
shove the huge phallus into her. The violence had added
to his sexual arousal and his manhood was fully erect,
emerging fully out of his foreskin.
A pungent stench filled the air and she realized that
he had probably not washed beneath the foreskin for god
knows how long, it was covered with yellow scum and
smelled like decayed cheese. The stench was
overwhelming. The thought of the dirty disgusting
phallus making contact with her and penetrating her
filled her with loathing, but her body was too tired
and battered in her hazy state to resist.
Using brute force, he was able to get 1/3 of the
phallus into the small orifice. The searing pain of the
initial entry jolted Denise back into full
consciousness and she bucked and rocked her torso
violently, trying to vomit him out of her and
regurgitate his disgusting appendage from within her.
But it was a losing battle as Fatty used his immense
bulk to cram inch after painful inch of the dirty
discoloured phallus between her legs. Slowly, more and
more of the immense organ disappeared into her warm
moist recesses.
Denise moaned in pain as she felt her small vagina
stretched to its limit to accommodate the invading
organ. After what seemed an eternity for her, the
entire organ had disappeared within her, buried in her
vagina. She felt violated defiled, corrupted by the
deformed primitive organ.
Through teary eyes, she watched in silent rage and
frustration as a look of bliss washed over Fatty's
face. His eyes were closed, shifting his weight for a
tighter more comfortable fit, he grunted like a pig as
he savoured the delicious tight, warm and moist embrace
of Denise's vagina. His jaws were slack and saliva was
drooling from the corners of his mouth.
"Ohhhh my god," he muttered, "this is fucking
fantastic, you are wonderful babe, This is nothing like
fucking Meg!"
Scar Face moved to the edge of the bed; "Then why don't
you come now so we can all have a go."
"No way man, I want to enjoy this ride, you guys will
get your turn, now fuck-off and let me lubricate her
pussy for you."
He started rocking back and forth, slowly pumping his
organ like a piston into Denise. The friction of the
huge phallus against the sensitive walls of her vagina
added to her discomfort. With his free right hand,
Fatty found her sensitive clitoris again and started
rubbing it in a circular motion with his thumb,
applying direct pressure on the engorged nub.
Meanwhile, Scar Face was not about to wait out his
turn. Ignoring Fatty, he clambered onto the bed and
stared hungrily at Denise's breasts; "Yummy, nice and
firm, yet soft and smooth as a baby's bottom, nothing
like Meg's sagging jugs," he laughed as his fingers
wondered over her tender nipples. With much relish he
took the right tit into his mouth sucking hungrily.
Fatty was aware that he had company on the dinner
table, but he was to much engrossed and decided that as
long as Scar Face stayed at the upper half of the menu,
he would live with it, for now. The rest of the
poachers however still maintained a respectful
distance, staring hungrily and waiting their turn, much
like the hierarchical ladder in a wolf pack. It was
clear in this pack that the two dominant males were
Fatty and Scar Face.
The combine assault of Fatty and Scar Face inevitably
wore down Denise's defenses. She shuddered as her
nipples hardened in Scar Face's warm wet mouth.
Releasing her right quivering nipple, his mouth
wondered over to her left breast, seeking out and
finding her tender left nipple.
Fatty continued to move his huge phallus in and out of
her at a moderate pace, intending to prolong the act.
His beer bully and huge phallus came constantly into
contact with her clitoris and she could feel the sheer
skin to skin kissing on the sensitive nub.
She realized with a shock that a warm wetness was
engulfing her vagina, slowly lubricating the moist
passage. Fatty noticed it too, not wearing any condom
he could feel her juices on his penis making it easier
for the phallus to slide in and out of the orifice. He
grunted as he unwillingly picked up the tempo, unable
to resist the warm wet embrace.
Fatty Sniggered: "Come on you bitch, your mind says no,
but I can feel your cunt dishing out its honey, my
prick is practically swimming in your juices, come on,
say you want it you bitch."
She tried to remain cold and silent. If they wanted her
all they would get would be a cold lifeless fish. She
tried to blank her mind out and maintain a poker face,
willing her body to become dead and non-responsive.
Scar Face sneered: "Looks like you are not having much
like, at least I got her nipples up." He again took her
right nipple in his mouth, sucking like a vacuum
cleaner on the erect tit.
Fatty was mad; "Fuck you, you want to see results let
me show you some results." He stopped for a moment and
inserted his index finger into her vagina, before
bringing the slick and moist finger up for all to see.
"Look at my dip-stick, she's well oiled all-right and
take a whiff of that lovely scent." He brought the
finger to his nose and inhaled, before sticking it in
his mouth.
She felt betrayed by her body, as it reveled in the
delicious sensations resulting from intercourse with
this obscenity that her mind refused to accept. The
truth was out, she was held virtual hostage by the
physical cravings of her own body, which now had a will
of its own. Denise turned her head in denial. The fact
that they were gaining more pleasure from her own
disobedient body's unbridled desire added to her
silent, impotent rage and anger.
The silent, unseen battle raged on inside her between
her mind and her body, the former trying to regain
control over the later. Fatty picked up the tempo now
and she groaned again as she felt the massive pile-
driver ram into her like a piston.
The impact jarred her body like a rag doll and she was
held down only by Scar Face's wondering hands and mouth
as he thoroughly explored every nook and cranny of her
body. Together they brought her close to the edge of an
immense vortex. As the urgent need for release
intensified within her, her defiant body rebelled
against her will, quivering with desire and in
anticipation of the delicious release which would
follow.
She was tittering on the brink, hovering there as her
mind willed her body to move from the epicenter. She
clenched her teeth as another warm wave of pleasure
spread from her loins, moving swiftly to engulf her.
For what seemed like an eternity she hovered on the
edge.
She soon realized it was a loosing battle. Bound and
spread eagled she was utterly helpless. Scar Face had
released a quivering nipple and slowly covered her
armpit in wet ticklish kisses. The feeling was
unbearable and goosebumps broke out on her sensitive
ivory white skin. He laughed in amusement as he noticed
the reaction and continued the act.
Unable to contain himself, Fatty quickened the tempo,
plunging deeply into her. Each deep thrust drew her
ever closer to the immense vortex. With a final thrust
buried his phallus deeply in her, she expected him to
withdraw but he stayed deeply embedded within her,
finally tipping her over the edge.
Her body went rigid as the intense wave spread swiftly
from the epicenter of her loins to merge with smaller
ripples of pleasure that were already spreading across
her body. Denise cried out in frustration as the
intense orgasm gripped her, racking her body in spasms.
Her vagina convulsed around Fatty's immense shaft,
gripping it tightly, milking it as it squirted its warm
load of jism deep into her. She could feel the warm
jets of semen pumping strongly into her, in a never
ending stream.
After long minutes, Fatty withdrew his flaccid penis
from within her, leaving a trail of sperm. As her mind
and body returned back to earth, she realized she had
just experienced (or suffered) her first orgasm in
years. Denise was mortified and offended that this had
occurred at the hands of such freaks of nature. But she
was not given time for thought or reflection.
Scar Face had shoved Fatty aside, eagerly unzipping his
denims to unleash a long lean phallus. It was not as
thick as Fatty's behemoth, but fully erected it was
longer. Swiftly he slipped it into her warm, sperm
slick vagina and began thrusting.
"No," Denise muttered. "I am too tired."
"Don't worry my pretty, I will crank you up again in no
time," he laughed.
Her body had not recovered from the previous ordeal,
and it floated helplessly beneath her, totally spent. A
silent moan escaped her lips as he entered her. There
was no respite as he began to pound her mercilessly.
In the mean time Fatty lay in a contented heap at the
foot of the bed. With him out of the way, the rest of
the pack closed in on her like a pack of wolves. Denise
shuddered as warm wet lips took her nipples, coarse
hands roamed her body, fondling her. One of them shoved
his putrid tongue into her mouth, she could smell his
pungent breath and taste his rancid saliva.
Thoroughly repulsed she bit down hard on the offensive
invading organ, eliciting a yelp of pain from the
poacher as he immediately withdrew. They stayed away
from her mouth after that, but the rest of her body was
still open to all takers.
Enraged, the poacher moved his mouth to her right
nipple; "Bloody bitch, I'll show you who's the master
here." He bit down savagely on the small sensitive tit,
grinding it between his teeth. A searing pain ripped
through Denise's body and an ear piercing scream
escaped her lips.
Encouraged by her response he kept his hold on the
tortured nipple. Small rivulets of blood trickled down
the side of her breast to be lapped up immediately by
other eager tongues and mouths. Her other tormentors
subjected her other nipple to the same fate. With two
pairs of mouth clamping down savagely on both her
nipples simultaneously, the searing pain threatened to
overwhelm Denise and she felt herself almost blacking
out.
But the pain also had the effect of rudely awakening
the rest of her tired body. A warm tingling sensation
returned again to Denise. She was vaguely aware as Scar
Face released his load into her. He clambered aside and
another poacher eagerly took his place between her
legs. It was the one who almost had his tongue bitten
off; "Broken Tongue."
Roughly he mounted her and proceeded to pound her to
the hilt relentlessly while Scar Face joined Fatty on
the side-lines. Two down and Five to go, she mentally
counted, it was going to be a long sexual marathon even
with just one of them, with seven of them she wondered
how she would survive the ordeal.
After several shoves, Broken Tongue withdrew his penis,
it was slick with a mixture of semen from Fatty and
Scar Face; "Ohh gross man, her cunt is filled to the
brim with your fuck juice, lets see if the other hole
is dry," he muttered, and promptly inserted the phallus
into her anus.
Denise had never experienced anal sex before and the
entry was painful and intense. Her face contorted in
pain; "No, not there please, I beg you, not there," she
pleaded desperately. But her words fell on deaf ears.
Bloody Tongue called over to Meg; "Hey Meg, come over
hear and wash her cunt out with your mouth, you said
you wanted a piece of her anyway."
"Gladly," Meg laughed. "Let's see what's so good about
this Grade A bitch that you boys are so excited about.
At the end of the day I'll show you that she is no
different from all the other whores who just want to be
fucked to death."
As Bloody Tongue pounded her anus, Meg positioned
herself from above and lowered her tongue onto Denise's
sperm soaked vagina. With Bloody Tongue in the way, she
only had direct access to Denise's clitoris and the
outer area of her vagina, but that was all she needed
as she proceeded to lick the area like a dog. She
seemed to know just where to concentrate, and how much
pressure to apply as her tongue lashed out relentlessly
at the sensitive clitoris, coaxing life back into the
tired, spent organ.
Denise's eyes opened in shock amazement as she
recognized a warm familiar need stirring within her for
the second time that evening. No it cannot be, she
thought, not another one so soon after the first, just
having one orgasm a month was an overdose for her, let
alone a second one in the same day. She closed her eyes
and prepared for a second battle.
She might have been successful if they had taken her
one at a time. But under a combined assault, with hands
and mouths exploring her body, Bloody Mouth pounding
her anus and Meg's tongue subjecting her clitoris to a
sweet ticklish torment, her body was again aroused
unbearably. This time it was worse as they worked her
to a sexual frenzy.
Meg could taste the signs of her arousal and smiled:
"Well, well, well, the little bitch is wet again, I can
taste her honey."
"Good" said Bloody Tongue, "coz I want to come in her
nice wet cunt, move over Meg."
Swiftly he repositioned his tool and began pounding
into her vagina again. This, Denise's body seemed to
welcome the assault, she again tried to will her body
into a dormant state, determined not to give them
anything but a lifeless rag doll, but she had already
lost the first battle and she knew it was only a matter
of time before they would again overwhelm her weakened
defenses by their sheer numbers.
"Come on bitch come with me, I know you want it, come
with me," raved Broken Tongue. But all she presented to
him was her cold unyielding body.
Denise made up her mind not to give-in especially to
this one. She greeted him with cold silence and
maintained a blank expressionless face as he mounted
her again. Bloody Tongue was infuriated and picked up
the tempo, but she managed to keep the raging turmoil
within her, allowing nothing to register on her face
and body.
She did not know how long she could contain the fast
building inferno, as her weakened defenses yielded all
too easily to the urgent intense hunger that was fast
consuming her loins, and prayed to at least get a small
victory in denying Bloody Tongue the climax he wanted
her to reach so badly.
Finally when they were both slick with sweat. Broken
Tongue released his load into her. It was a small
victory for her as she saw the frustration in his face.
"Is it over already...so fast, its so small I hardly
felt it.." she taunted him before his pack. His face
turned a crimson red as the others howled with
laughter.
But her brave words did not last as her next assailant
approached her. He was bald and thin and he brought
with him his little toy, a small vibrator. Smiling,
Baldy promptly shoved his dick into her semen soaked
interior. Denise had been able to win her last battle
with Broken Tongue, but he had brought her closer to
the edge, fueling the raging hunger that was again
building within her. But Baldy would be her fourth in a
row.
As he proceeded with the now familiar ritual of
pounding her tired body, she realized her vagina was
quickly becoming a cesspool of cum and semen which made
it slick and wet. Each assailant would deposit his
payload and add to the growing sewage of sperm that
collected within, making the entry easier for the next
assailant. She felt dirty and corrupted and her mind
also turned to her period, when was it last and was she
fertile this week?
Denise gasped as her reflections were interrupted by
the touch of an unfamiliar new sensation. Baldy had
applied the small pink vibrator to her vagina as he
slowly pounded her. He was intently studying her face
searching for any signs of arousal as he moved the
small device in a circular motion around the mouth of
her orifice.
The warm urgent need continued to build slowly within
Denise, but she maintained her cold silent blank face,
presenting him an apparently cold unresponsive body.
She almost flinched as the small humming device found
the sensitive nub of her clitoris, but caught herself
in time. How long could she maintain this façade, she
thought, as the vibrator clung on persistently to the
small nub, the ticklish sensation was unbearable and it
quickly teased the quivering nub to a higher state of
arousal.
In the mean time Baldy had closed his eyes as he
relished the feel of her warm wet vagina around his
dick. He muttered blindly; "Oh this is heavenly, so
warm and tight... gotta slow down... gotta take me
time..."
Denise thought she could feel his filthy member
throbbing on the brink of release, but cursed under her
breath as she realized Baldy had slowed his tempo and
backed away from the early release. She realized that
her chances of winning this round diminished with each
second he continued with her as the vibrator was
bringing her into another sexual frenzy. At this rate
she would be reduced to a helpless quivering mound of
flesh again in less than 5 minutes, she needed a change
in tactics with this one.
She realized quickly that Baldy could not resist
increasing his tempo again, as he approached the edge,
he again started to pull out and slow the tempo as he
had done in the past 3 occasions. This time however
Denise did not let him do so, she willed her tired
battered body forward and moved her vagina to quickly
swallow-up the retreating penis. Baldy was taken by
complete surprise; "What the fuck are you doing?"
He did not finish as Denise started rocking quickly
back and forth, she could feel his dick quivering as he
strove desperately to back away and bring it under his
control. It was now or never, she moved downward
powerfully and trapped the quivering penis completely
in her warm wet prison. The delicious sensation quickly
overwhelmed Baldy and she smiled in quiet triumph as
she felt his warm jets shooting thickly into her.
Baldy's face was a mask of anger as the entire act had
lasted barely 20 minutes. "You just wait you bitch, I
will have a second round with you that will last all
day." But he was interrupted as yet another beefy brute
took his place between her tired legs.
Number 5, Denise mentally counted, only another 2 more
after this and she would at least have won the first
round. It was the only remaining shred of satisfaction
she could muster for herself. She shut her eyes as she
felt the now push of the phallus between her lips.
Excess sperm trickled down her crack as the faceless
brute pushed himself in without any resistance. Denise
could sense the pent-up desire that she had denied her
hungering body stirring within her. It was like a time
bombing ticking away and she knew that the longer she
kept the raging torrent boxed-up within her, the
stronger and more urgent the need became.
And so the sexual marathon continued. A fifth, followed
by a sixth faceless assailant. Each slowly wore down
her resolve. The tension within her grew and grew until
she was like a tightly wound-up spring coil, quivering
and ready for release at the right touch.
Her whole body ached from the constant prolonged
assault, but was also on fire, unable to rest as it
looked for the sweet release she was denying it. At
times she almost thought she would lose control as her
sexual tormentors teased her fevered body into a higher
state of sexual frenzy. But each time, she bit down
hard on her lower lip and the jolt of pain disrupted
the inevitable allowing her to seize control of the
raging monster within.
As the sixth poacher blew his load into her soaking
vagina, a ray of hope filled Denise. It was the last
mile of the marathon, she could see the finishing line,
all she had to do was to last the distance within the
final seventh man. He was a tall muscular black Negro.
She had heard stories about the size of the black man's
penis, and her worst fears were confirmed when she saw
a fully erect black phallus. It was as thick as Fatty's
penis and also as long as Scar Face's phallus.
Blacky was the seventh and final man in the pack, she
noted. The bed sheets were now soaked in a combination
of sweat and semen and clung wetly to her back and
sides. He said nothing as he quietly inserted the
monster into her. She moaned as her small orifice was
stretched beyond its limits to accommodate the mammoth
phallus. It was huge and filled her to the brim. So
tight was the fit that the pressure squeezed excess
sperm out of her vagina.
As he began to slide wetly in and out of her, the
initial pain of the entry was quickly replaced by the
familiar stirrings of the beast within her. Denise's
defiant body relished the delicious urgent sensations.
Bloody Tongue moved forward to get a better view of the
big black phallus as it slid in and out of the white,
pink orifice. "Come on, the bitch is almost there" he
cried as Denise was unable to contain a shudder that
broke the surface of the raging storm below.
The tide grew again within her as Blacky picked up the
tempo. On and on he went, but she held on at the very
edge. The minutes became an hour and she was amazed by
his amazon like stamina. As the delicious sensation
threatened to overwhelm here again, she bit her now
broken and bloody lips, but this time the pain only
added to the intensity of the need as her body was
reduced into a quivering mound of pleasure. She shut
her eyes trying to block out all sensation.
Blacky blurted out: "Guys I cant last, oh god... its
gonna happen soon." Encouraged she again tilted her
orifice to receive him more fully attempting to trigger
his orgasm sooner. But the act also brought her closer
to her own release.
Suddenly her eyes snapped open as she felt jolts of
electricity engulfing her bruised nipples. Bloody
Tongue had returned with two small pink vibrators and
had anchored each to her erect nipples. He smiled at
the look of surprise on her face; "You were not
expecting this were you, well there's more to come." He
touched a button which increased the intensity of the
small humming device, sending a surge of pleasure
through Denise's body.
Taken off-guard, Denise had no time to mentally prepare
for the delicious wave that engulfed her upper torso.
They had found a back-door in and the bolts of pleasure
spread swiftly to merge with the pent-up desire that
had accumulated between her legs, merging into a
mammoth tidal wave that could not be contained, tipping
her finally over the edge.
She let out a cry of hopeless frustration as every
muscle in her tired body tensed, almost gratefully
receiving the release that she had denied it in the
past hours. The build-up to her second climax for the
day had been slow, which added to the intensity and
length of the final release.
Fist clenched, her back arched as the wave of fire and
pleasure surged forward taking her. Her Vagina walls
contracted in spasms around Blacky's huge phallus,
milking it as it sent warm jets of semen into her in an
apparently never ending stream.
Damn! Damn! Damn! she cursed herself as she could here
the room erupt in peels of laughter and claps. She was
still caught in the throes of the wave of pleasure when
Baldy clamped a third vibrator onto her swollen nub.
Denise gasped sharply as the first wave was immediately
replaced by another of higher intensity. Blacky had
removed his now flaccid phallus and all eyes were
focused on her still convulsing pussy as it tried to
grip a phallus that was no longer there.
She realized with a shock that this was the first time
she was experiencing multiple orgasms as each wave of
pleasure was replace by a higher more intense wave. The
vibrator on her clitoris hummed at a higher pitch as
Baldy switch the device to maximum setting, sending it
into a final series of quick convulsive spasms. So
intense were the contractions that excess semen and
vagina fluids sprayed from the petal like lips as they
opened and shut on their own.
It seemed an eternity before her sweat slick body
finally came to rest on the damp mattress. She felt a
warm thick wet substance on the mattress. As Denise
opened her eyes, a scene of chaos and death greeted
her. The headless body of Blacky lay between her legs,
she could see bright red blood spurting from his
severed carotid artery, onto the bed.
The other members of the wolf pack were in a similar
state and the room was a slaughterhouse. As her eyes
adjusted to the chaos, she noticed 3 tribesmen standing
with bloodied weapons at the door. She recognized the
small skulls they wore around the neck, which were
identical to the ones in her earlier encounter with the
natives.
One of them came forward towards her and again she
closed her eyes waiting for the end to come. At least
it would be a quick release from this living hell, she
only prayed for a quick and painless execution.
Instead, she felt gentle hands untie her shackles,
helping her up. A water bottle was presented to her
chaffed lips and she drank hungrily. She was too tired
and exhausted to walk, and was vaguely aware as the
natives placed her on a make shift stretcher, before
she drifted again into oblivion.
Next she awoke, Denise found herself on clean sheets in
a hospital. She was suffering from prolonged exposure
and dehydration, as well as the severe trauma she had
suffered at the hands of the poachers. But she had
survived. She found some comforting satisfaction in the
fact that they were all dead. It now remained for her
to pick up the pieces of her life and move on with her
career.
-THE END-
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This story was written as an adult fantasy. The author
does not condone the described behavior in real life.
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Kristen's collection - Directory 39