The voices draw closer. It’s a group of men making their way down the street, singing and merry. I can see their outlines in the corner of my eye just before their spectral shapes pass in front of me.
Just as they’re about to pass, one turns and notices me.
“Why, what have we here?” His voice, made bold by ale, rises above the din of the rain.
Another walks over, crouching to examine me. “It’s that serf girl. Seems you’re in a spot of bother, love.”
I look down, thankful for the privacy the wet curtains of my hair allow.
Others are approaching until I’m circled on all sides. One throws a bottle, which shatters on the stocks right next to my head. I flinch.
They laugh.
“Careful, Walter,” says the one crouching. “We wouldn’t want to damage that pretty face of hers now, would we? What would old man Roberts think about that?”
“Roberts!” scoffs another. “He can get fucked, and his missus too, the ugly cunt.”
“You’re not wrong,” continues the man closet to me. He lifts my hair to look at my face. I recognise him as Francis Drake, the village muscle.
“Still,” he continues, “it would be a waste to see such a fine prize go to waste out here in the cold, unloved and unblemished, wouldn’t you say? She is to be punished, no?”
There’s a general concurrence.
He speaks directly to me, mouth reeking of ale close by my ear. “We could free you, you know. There are enough men here. Would you like that?”
I nod, eager to get out of the cold and wet any way possible and be far gone from this hate-filled village.
“Good, good.” He speaks a little louder so the others can hear. “First, however, we’re going to require payment up front.”
The others snigger. They know the game, as do I.
I nod again, resigning myself to the ultimate sacrifice. It is just a body, just flesh and bone. You can break it, but you will not break me.
Francis smiles as he stands. The others draw closer in a tight ring. Two move behind me out of my line of vision.
A bolt of lightning in the distance turns the scene momentarily stark white. In that moment every man appears before me as a haunted spectre. Their true selves are revealed.
I am in hell.
Strike me down, O god of thunder. Make it quick.
Franic is behind me, peeling back my tunic to expose my soft ass.
“My, my,” he says, voice rising in volume to compete with the rain. “She has a fine backside, this one.”
He slaps my buttock, hard. I recoil again, pressing forward against the boards, feet struggling for purchase in the mud. The others laugh.
“So, payment,” he continues, fingers falling onto my flesh, squeezing and weighing the tight globes of my behind.
The others draw closer still until I can see the outline of bent appendages in their britches. One of them has his out, drawing his hand up and down upon it, rolling the foreskin back and forth over its ugly head. I look away sharply.
I’ve seen cocks before, but never in such proximity. I steal another glance. It’s unnatural, the way it grows and bends in his hand, a weeping slit for an eye.
Francis runs a cold finger down my crack, pausing against the tight pucker of my anus before probing into my sex.
I thrash now, struggle in my bonds, but it’s useless. There is nothing I can do.
He seems pleased. “Oh, she’s ripe this one, boys.” When his finger comes up against my obstruction, “and what’s this? She’s a virgin, too. We’ll see to that.”
He withdraws his finger. As the rain strengthens, he fumbles with his britches, pausing momentarily before something thick and hard rests up against the tiny opening of my sex.
Dread runs in icy tendrils down my spine. I shake, convulse and rattle against my wooden captor.
He places his hands again on my buttocks and pulls them apart. In doing so, the bottom of my sex splits open for him and his member slips inside.
Worse than even this embarrassment is the fact my body has betrayed me. The rainwater runs down the crack of my ass and around his cock, mixing with the fresh, warm desire that seeps from my loins.
What sorcery is this that I should aid him so in his haste to defile me?
With a laugh, he holds my buttocks tight and swings his hips forward.
His cock rides up against my maidenhead and I scream out. He manages to stretch it, but it does not break. Perturbed, he draws back and tries again with greater force, but again it does not break.
“What’s the problem?” heckles one of the others. “Can’t pop that cherry of hers with your tiny cock?”
But his cock feels anything but tiny. It feels like it will break me wide if my maidenhead falters.
His grip leaves my buttocks. He holds the top of the stocks for leverage, swings back and uses all his weight to drive his cock inside me. He tears past my maidenhead in a single stroke to plunge deep into my womb.
I gasp, unable to breathe, inhaling only water and cold as he pauses in my depths, allowing my sex to grow used to his invader while the blood of my virginity flows around his girth from my distended hole.
He pulls back and slides forward again, finding new depth inside me until our pubises meet in a hairy tangle and his scrotum presses against the the top of my sex below.
I scream again, hot tears flowing from my eyes, salt streaming into the corners of my mouth as his body pendulums against my own to the calls and shouts of his fellow men, now with their cocks free, all manner of shapes and sizes and ghoulish intent.
But deep down, the further he goes, the betrayal becomes greater. Although my body trembles around him, a steady heat begins to build between my legs that I cannot stop or abate.
The sharp sting of my deflowerment is replaced by a throbbing, a carnal bloom that opens my sex, allowing the intruder to take me without resistance.
“She’s hot for my cock! I can feel it. Her cunt’s sucking it in like a baby’s mouth does a finger!”
He groans and pumps harder, each thrust causing the posts beside me to strain in the ground and the stocks to press against the soft skin of my neck. My breasts heave back and forth below, sway with the assault tender and heavy.
“Fill her up, Francis! Give her that dirty seed of yours.”
One of the others, a tall gentleman who I’ve seen tending to the fields down the road, stands right next to my head jerking his member. The angry head of it is large as a plum.
Two hands behind me tug at the neck of my tunic. Pulling in alternate directions, the wet material gives and tears in a large strip down my back as Francis continues to burrow his way into my body.
With a final tug the tunic comes away completely, falling into the mud below and leaving me completely naked in the downpour.
I cry harder, sobbing to the sky as I’m abused, even as the strange heat warms my sex, spinning in my belly like a will-o’-the-wisp, sensations new and fearful filling my head.
Just as they’re building, Francis drives forward so hard my bare shoulders slam into the back of the stocks and my neck is thrust forward. He grunts twice, a ball of heat inside me as his cock contracts there.
“No!” I scream, but it’s too late. When he’s done filling me he simply leaves his cock in place, twitching in my cunny until he pulls free and his heated juice spills from my freshly opened gash.
He slides two fingers into the mess and draws them down, scooping out his seed across the soft floor of my sex and out of my body.
“There you go, Walter,” he says. “I’ve cleaned her up for you.”
The one called Walter now steps behind me, squeezing my buttocks in turn. “Let me show you what a real cock feels like, my love.”
The pain that follows is immense. Walter’s cock is twice the size of Francis’s, stretching the opening of my sex into a tight ‘O’, not a single space to spare between the exterior of his shaft and the heated pocket of flesh that surrounds it.
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br /> When he draws out it’s like my entire torso comes with it out. If it wasn’t for Francis’s cum and the wet betrayal I add to it, Walter’s cock would set a fire from the sheer friction alone.
As Walter thrusts in time, unseen hands grasp at my hips and breasts, twisting my nipples and thumbing them until they stand like cinnamon sticks from the inverted domes that hang from my chest.
A tongue wraps around one, laughter, teeth pulling at my tender flesh.
A hand twists my hair together in a knot and lifts my head up. I open my mouth to protest but it’s immediately filled with stale cock.
I’ve never had a cock in my mouth. Never imagined I would fall so far in the world.
“Open wider,” my aggressor commands, shoving his meat deeper into my mouth as the grip on my hair tightens and my body is assaulted from behind.
I breathe through my nose as the rain falls and his cock slides back and forth on the porous plain of my tongue. I wrap my lips around my teeth just as I’ve seen my master’s wife do so many times. This seems to please my attacker. He moans and the grip on my hair loosens.
I use my tongue to lathe the sides of his shaft. Buoyed, he presses deeper forward until his chest mashes against my nose and his balls swing up against my chin. He holds my head with two hands and continues to fuck my mouth with increasing brutality.
When his cockhead enters my throat, I gag, unable to take his full length and the giant size of his knob, but this only please him more. He thrusts once, twice and then stops, seed pumping from his cock directly down my throat.
I swallow, lest drown, larynx working against the worn wood below as I try foolishly to take in the ceaseless flow.
Content, the cockman pulls out and fires off a final ribbon of white into my hair.
Almost immediately another cock is in my mouth and the process repeats again. This one holds my ears, calling me his ‘little piglet’ as he threatens to break my jaw with each flying thrust, bucking against my face with such delight it’s as though his very life depends on spilling his seed as quickly as possible.
Walter’s assault continues from the rear until he pulls out and exhales, seed falling on my back in hot lines. He shoots into my ass crack, seed sliding slowly back into the hungry mouth from which from his cock has just emerged, now wide and open for all.
My tears have stopped. I have no more to give.
I will die here, fucked to death by these creatures. Sunrise is hours away and their will for harm is high. What horrors could possibly follow?
When a new member forces its way between my tender buttocks, I have my answer.
I can’t speak for the cock in my mouth, but instead mumble for release.
Not there. Take my mouth, my cunt, anywhere but there, the forbidden!
Not even the lowest of whores would be subjected to such treatment. I picture the tiny eye of my anus, squeezed shut in fright, and cannot imagine any member making it past into the hot depths beyond, and if they do… I will tear like paper.
The mystery cockhead comes to rest against the tight wedge of my behind, pressing now against the twisted bud that marks the start of my anal passage. My cunt drips below, wide and ready now, but this intruder won’t have it. His thirst is only for my virginal asshole. He tells me such as he guides his member forth.
The resistance is not imagined. His cock bounces clean off my hole on its first attempt. He brings his hips up and presses forward again. This time I can feel the muscles of my ass begin to relent, my hole dilating enough for him to squeeze just the tip inside.
“It’s been a while since I had one the likes of you,” he says. “You’ll take my cock if it’s the last thing you do.”
Invitation open, he stands on his toes and bears down, grunting with the effort until half of his cock slides slowly forward into my gritty bowels like a hot poker.
My mouth opens wider just as the cock inside it pulls free and unleashes a torrent of cum over my face. I close my eyes just before they’re glazed thick with the glutinous substance. I can’t wipe them free. I can’t do anything but wait for the rain to wash away the muddle as these ghouls continue to cackle around me, dancing in the rain and mud, slapping the cold earth against my breasts and sides, whipping me with reeds and sticks so that I bounce and jerk as the madman behind me gains another inch, pressing firmer and firmer against my backside as his cock digs deeper into my body.
Finally, the nest of hairs at the base of his prick tickling the tightly stretched hole of my anus, he’s driven into me in full. Every time he pulls back and thrusts down again my open sex gapes and yawns below, slurping loudly away over the continuing cacophony of the rain and thunder around us.
With a sharp jerk the man in my bottom releases his own torrent, filling up my backside and withdrawing. My ass does not close immediately but instead remains a finger-wide oculus of distended black. My shame is boundless, my defiling complete.
My tormenters relent enough for me to catch my breath. Although I am sore, I am not broken. There is no immediate pain bar the screwing I have just been subjected to. The pain is far more mental. I flinch when any of them steps close or lays a hand, finger or cock on my body. One kicks the stocks next to my head. A step to the side and it would have been my face.
I have to placate them, to keep them from darker acts.
The salty taste of their cum is still in my mouth, their seed in my belly, womb and ass. The thought of giving birth to some bastard child from these men almost causes me to lose consciousness on the spot, but I steel myself, knowing that the end, whatever form it may take, will come.
With a whistle, another man appears from the rain and shadows.
“Ah, Sadon. Just the man we need,” shouts Francis, his cock hanging out of his britches like a wilted branch.
I have not seen this man before, but ‘man’ is not an apt description. He is more of a tower, easily a foot or more over the tallest man here, a hulking mass of being.
Francis explains as places his hand behind the giant’s back and lures him in. “This girl here has been charged with adultery of the most heinous order. We’re distributing fit punishment, but your weapon,” he gestures to the man’s crotch, “well, it would be most appreciated to ensure the lesson does not slip easily from her mind.”
The giant grins, mouth a haggard mismatch of teeth. “With pleasure. Which of her holes shall I attend to?”
Francis guides the giant behind me. “As you can see, she’s well prepared already, but her cunt could do with a good clean out, don’t you think?”
The giant chuckles. I hear him undoing his britches, picture his appendage in my mind and the damage it’s about to bring upon my busted sex.
There’s a whistle from one of the others. “Is that a cock or a battering ram you have there, sir?”
Something firm presses right against my bleeding hole. It’s impossibly large, the top of it round like a potato against the stretched ring of my sex.
Relax, I tell myself. Relax and it will be better for you.
Even Sadon can see the obscene mismatching. “It will not fit, Francis. I’ll split her in half.”
Francis crouches, lifting my face so I’m forced to stare into the obsidian abyss of his eyes. “She is here to be punished, is she not?”
“Ey,” Sadon agrees. He reaches below and pulls my folds wide. My hole opens up, but it’s still too small an aperture for such a monster.
Sadon spits onto his shaft, rubbing his head against my opening.
Another hand reaches between my legs and starts frigging the sensitive bud that has grown at the apex of slit.
It’s unnatural, but my body responds. I am no longer aware of the cold or rain, every sense narrowing down to the new sensation these fingers are finding.
Colours creep into my head. Honey begins to pour from my opening around the potato head of the giant’s cock. My hole loosens as the fingers grow faster in their circling. I grow looser, ready.
I don’t even notice Sando�
��s weapon start to slip inside, waiting there half-in as I expand around him, too caught up in my own sensation to care.
My mouth moves. “Yes.”
This single, unbelievable syllable repeats itself.
I close my eyes and focus down on this sensation growing within me, threatening to take me in full. I never want it to end, but I need to be filled.
I have already fallen past redemption. Should I not be allowed some pleasure in the process?
I tell them this. Filth escapes my mouth I never even knew was part of my vocabulary as I press my hips outwards and the potato cock gains more ground as it stretches me out.
Another cock slides into my hand and my fingers curl around it, working it like a cow’s teat as I continue to beg, wishing now more than anything for release from the pleasure that’s coursing through me, betraying me in full.
The fingers work faster and my release seems imminent.
I mutter nonsense, another cock slipping into my free hand, one beside my face that I turn and take between my lips, moaning and drooling around it as Sando’s colossal weapon slides forward, the head hidden now in my freshly fucked folds and the shaft about to make way.
I want it. I want his cock to open me up, to split me wide and fill me, to fuck me as I deserve to be fucked.
The giant places a hand against my spine, presses down and, feet planted in the mud, presses his pole deep into my slippery cunt.
The cock in my mouth pops free as I cry out, but this time it’s with pleasure as I’m stuffed to the brim, the giant beginning to slide in my warm confines, himself complimenting my tight hole. My hips jerk every time he comes against the rubbery barrier that marks the entrance to my womb proper, and then pressing into it again, now fucking me properly, his hips slamming into my own over and over and over until I shake like a madman caught in these weathered planks, the others shouting and gesticulating around us as the giant swings into me like a fortress wall, the stumps by my sides groaning in the ground against his girth. And all the while the fingers work, slipping and moving around in my juices, the bud between them too much, too much sensation.
Cruel Devices: Taboo Punishment Collection (Extreme Bondage) Page 3
