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."

The End