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“You’ve never been to the woodshed, have you?” Gus chortled, in his element and apparently relishing his part.
I didn’t bother to reply. And in fact, he didn’t lead me to the nearby woodshed, but to an old tree stump, one about knee high and flat on top. I had a pretty good idea of what would happen next. While the other men backed away to watch, Reggie moved in front of me, critical and cold in his appearance, nothing unusual about that, while from within I could feel his inner fire attacking me in ways that suggested something more dark and ominous than what I’d experienced from him before. It would be much later before I realized just how much this scene aroused me. I wished we were alone, that he’d take me right there over the tree stump, against a tree, in the dirt – I wouldn’t have cared what he did or how, as long as he fucked me hard.
Of course, my private fantasy had nothing to do with his plans, and I had little time to ponder further possibilities. He moved fast, unbuttoning my jeans and jerking them down my legs. Next thing I knew the jeans and shoes were gone, thrown some feet away, and I was standing naked below the waist, with nothing above but the wide open t-shirt fluttering behind me in the breeze. One of the stablemen covered the top of the stump with a piece of leather. Then as Reggie stepped back, Gus moved in and pushed me down so my belly rested on the cool surface. The leather was little comfort, but it was preferable to the splintered sides of the tree digging into my bare thighs.
My breasts dangled down in front and from behind, my ass was raised high. When Reggie stepped in behind me and forcefully spread my legs wider, I blushed with embarrassment. By then my bound arms had begun to ache so much that I could barely stand the position.
“This hurts like hell,” I complained while trying to wriggle my way into a more comfortable position. These were the first words I’d spoken since the scene began.
“Get used to it. It’s not going to kill you,” Reggie’s flinty voice came back quickly. I stared up to see little but cold indifference in his expression.
“Take her as you like,” he told the men, then he walked away.
The first man entering my cunt grabbed my tied arms at the same time and I couldn’t stop myself from crying out.
“You’re going to break me,” I screamed in protest.
Leather cracked sharply against my ass.
“Ouch!” I wrenched fitfully, but my audience only seemed amused by my discomfort.
“But please, my arms,” I tried again.
Gus jerked my head back by the hair and stared into my face mockingly. “You yell again and I’ll blister your ass raw.”
My next cry was nothing but a heated whisper, “Please.” Thankfully, it had some effect.
Gus laughed. “Go ahead and untie her. We don’t want to tire her out too much, she’s got a long night ahead.” My hands were freed at last, and reaching around, I braced myself against the ground. I could feel the blood rushing back into my arms, and was momentarily grateful until the thick cock thrusting into my sex began to pound me into the stump. It was rough at first, but much better as the fucking continued. That first cock was of average size maybe six inches in length, but enough to get me juiced up for the second. After he’d been inside me awhile, the one man moved out and the next moved in. This next cock must have been nine maybe ten inches, and every bit of it pushed its way into my wet hole, thrusting full force. I gasped in shock feeling my sex rent wide, the fucking was forceful and unrelenting. My only hope was that it would quickly be over.
To prolong the ordeal, the two stablemen took turns with me, one after the other plowing themselves into my dark cavern. Their rough hands pinched and probed and squeezed my flesh. Never had I felt anything like this; never had I been so used. Maybe it was inevitable, maybe they just wore me down, but something altered in me with all that fucking. When the smaller cock was in me that was fine, but I came to crave the larger one. There was nothing about that cock that I didn’t crave – the slutty twin inside me yearned to be so full. I wanted it harder, deeper, in my love hole, in my ass, in my mouth. I didn’t care how I was used. At least that’s where my desire seemed to lead.
I wouldn’t doubt that the men watching saw how I responded. I imagine Reggie was smirking with satisfaction. I didn’t care. For that sliver of time I was in my own world. I couldn’t care less what anyone thought. Nothing mattered but this physical bliss.
Then came the chortling taunts, the vulgar comments…about what a slut I was…how I could probably take a dozen…about calling in reinforcements…maybe it was time to stuff my mouth full as well.
I tried to ignore their jeering comments, but their crude talk forced me from the physical pleasure and back to the reality of me rutting like an animal in the dirt and begging for more. My thoughts spun out of control, the pleasure slipped away. Condemnation and self-reproach replaced anything positive
that I might have derived from the scene. How far I’d succumbed. My behavior was as vulgar as they claimed. How could I have allowed myself to be so debauched! An angry fire burned deep inside me, although something sane in me knew that I had to keep my rage in check. My enigmatic master, the man who ruled this crowd of perverts must have been pleased. I kept my protest to myself, having no desire to incur Reggie’s wrath. I needed to endure this – for him, for the sake of my desire for him, for the fantasy of having him as mine. But from that point on I was determined to find no pleasure in their use of me. I would please Reggie with my surrender, but I would take nothing for myself.
They spanked my ass, but I didn’t feel it. They pinched my nipples, but there was no pleasure there. They took me as they wanted, for I remained their vessel to be used, but that was all. I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing me respond with any kind of sexual satisfaction. I figured it would be the only way to keep my dignity intact – so twisted was my reasoning.
Once both men had thoroughly used me, I lay exhausted on the stump until Gus pulled me away. He wouldn’t permit me to walk – and I would have proudly, showing Reggie what I was made of. Instead, however, Gus shoved me to the ground.
“Crawl to the shack,” he ordered.
“What?” He certainly didn’t mean that!
“Crawl, bitch,” he blared again when I didn’t move.
I was suddenly so weary, so tired, bewildered and spent that I forgot my inner vows to remain passive and accepting, and spit out an angry, “Like hell I will!” Tears were streaming down my cheeks. I wanted nothing more but for this to end.
The comment earned me a swift broad hand on my sore bottom, and another dozen smacks after the first stinging swat. Then again, Gus pulled my head back by my hair and stared at me, eye to eye, his face just inches from mine. “Say another word and I’ll do more than slap you. Your only way out of this is to be the perfect bitch in heat – which you’ve already proven you are. Let’s not fuck it up now, sweet stuff. And when I screw you, girl, you’d better act as if you enjoy it because I won’t stop until you do.”
His words were fire, but his face was cold. He’d become a sexually charged beast as intent on his business as any animal, any dog or horse or bull. His message took me to a place in me I’d never been. An odd and unwelcome feeling was rising from deep in my gut. Erotic. Sexual. Earthy. Was his crude treatment of me actually turning me on? My feelings were in freefall and I had no idea what to think or feel as Gus tied a length of leather around my neck so it fit snugly against my throat. When he pushed me to the back to the dirt, and ordered me to: “Crawl like a good bitch,” my resolve to survive this episode in passionless submission ended there. After such a see-saw of emotions, I was too confused to know what I felt or how to act. I felt shamed, humiliated and angry and yet my body was as aroused as it had ever been. I didn’t understand this.
Suddenly, all I could think of was halting the whole drama. I’d take no more, not for any reason! But then I made the mistake of glancing in the direction of the log shack, where perhaps a hundred yards away, just this side of the porch, I saw Reggie standing with his feet firmly rooted to the earth and his eyes staring at me with fixed intent. He stopped me cold. The anger, the rebellion was swept away. He was still with me, waiting for me. I won’t give up what I came here for, I vowed silently. If I called a halt to his game, I’d walk away from him never to be able to possess him; and possessing him was more important now than pride or shame or that lowly journey to his feet. I began to crawl, my naked body moving shakily from the tree trunk across the yard while the three men watched leering at me from behind, and Reggie beckoned me with the promise of my deepest desire fulfilled. When at last I reached his feet, Gus handed him the leather strap.
“Sit back and look at me,” my handsome master ordered.
