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The second man was a tall, fair-skinned fellow in his late twenties, his hair a messy crop of curls—although it was not as long as his blond friend’s. He smoked cigarettes almost non-stop and sported a seriously grim expression that rarely changed.
He didn’t come to her until the second day, and even then, he stood for a long time inside the shed and simply watched her. She’d been sleeping when he arrived and on opening her eyes, she jerked, straining against the ropes.
“What are you doing here?” she cried out, a little terrorized by his remote, fixated eyes.
He didn’t reply so Laney stared back at him waiting for him to make a move. He seemed determinedly fixed to the doorway. Was he not aroused? Did the allure of a sexy female, available for his use, not entice him at all? If she’d not been bound, she might have eventually done a little dance for him, something to seduce him, persuading him to make a move. Without that, he remained standing in the doorway, chain smoking until there was a thick cloud of smoke floating around his head. What she didn’t understand was how aroused he was, how his cock throbbed inside his pants and how very much he wanted to use her body. He was merely shy with women and inexperienced with sex.
Eventually, perhaps because of the lust-filled look in her eye that urged him on, he finally moved tentatively forward and started to take off his pants. What he revealed when his jeans were at his ankles was a stiff hard-on, as big as she’d ever seen on a man. She immediately shrunk back in fear of it, knowing by its great length that it would bang her pussy raw.
She let her eyes take it in and get used to the idea of the organ inside her pussy, and after a few minutes, she began to desire the very thing she was afraid of. She licked her lips unconsciously encouraging him on. As aroused as her captivity had made her, a long hard dick wouldn’t be all that bad, or all that painful, she reasoned with herself. She longed for these men, for their bodies, their flesh touching her flesh, their loins locked on to hers, their hands combing her skin.
At last, silently—for no words were needed in this situation—he crawled up on the bed, mounting it by climbing over the foot rail and working himself up Laney’s recumbent body. With his tongue gliding over her skin, he worked his way up her legs, then between her thighs, then higher into the crotch. Parting her labia, his tongue speared the small cleft until he could lap the bud of her wet clitoris.
She gasped feeling a gentle pain leap on her as he kept on and on lapping the swollen, delicate bud. His tongue was incredibly versatile.
Then suddenly, he bit her hard. She squealed and tried to squirm away from him, but he clung to her clitty, refusing to let go and forcing her to experience the pain, until the pain turned into pleasure.
Again, silently, he moved further up her body. As he crawled, his dangling hard-on dragged against her skin. He passed her crotch, where she hoped he’d plant his spear with resounding finality, but he continued on, dragging his penis until his knees were on either side of her neck. His hips rose up and he pressed the tip of his cock against her lips, her cue to open them.
Laney let the long cock into her mouth, while being very much afraid she’d be unable to pleasure this well-endowed man this way. Her cunt or ass would have been so much more satisfactory in this instance, but he gave her no choice. He wanted to fuck her mouth. He wanted to drive his penis down her throat.
Not choking became nearly impossible. Again and again, he thrust, like he’d thrust himself into a cunt. She worked him as best she could, but it was the deep-throat he most wanted, and little by little as moved inside her mouth, her throat opened to receive him. She lost all thought, becoming mindless and purely physical at that moment, connecting with this man in the way he most desired. Why she cared about his pleasure at all would be something she’d think about long after this day. At the time, it seemed like a natural, even loving act, an affectionate gift to a shy and awkward youth who needed her profound submission in order to discover his own sexuality.
When he began to spew himself into her mouth, the spell between them was broken, and she choked from the gobs and gobs of cum he ejaculated toward the back of her throat. She swallowed and swallowed again, then several more times until at last he withdrew his organ, and tapped what was left of his cum on the side of her face. He immediately pulled off the bed and walked to the door, zipping his pants as he went—he didn’t look back. The door slammed behind him and he set the lock, then Laney watched through the dirty windows as he returned to the cottage.
Laney’s long-haired friend returned to use
her again shortly after the fair-skinned man had left. Laney suspected that she’d play the whore until they tired of her, or the situation in some way changed. She’d been led to believe that these men were enemies of the Marquis and she was being held for ransom, but she could be certain of nothing. Those who kidnap would have no difficulty lying too. She had walked into a tangled web of uncertainty, and was now left with threats and evil promises and the possibility of more torture. Who would even know she was there? She was lost to the world, and long hours alone in the shed caused her mind to wander into places where there were no answers and nothing to figure out because she simply did not understand the game into which she’d become a pawn.
Although she could panic, panic would do her no good; she was simply forced to wait for her fate to unravel, while having no clue how that would take place.
Sex was solace, something to do during her long, wasted hours, a natural act she began to yearn for to break up the monotony of being bound to a bed with nothing but her thoughts to occupy her time.
Escape? Escape naked into the countryside of a foreign country where she knew no one and did not speak the language? Not that this hadn’t crossed her mind, so far, nothing in her captivity—including the electrical torture, led her to believe that such an attempt was crucial in order to survive. Her captors wanted her alive. They were thugs, opportunists—sadists, certainly—but they were not murderers.
She would bide her time; hope, pray and let the whorish use of her body quell the terrifying anxiety that rose up when, unbidden, her mind assaulted her with reminders of her desperate situation.
Late on her third full day of captivity, after the two men had used her for sex and she was momentarily sated, momentarily at peace, Ivana arrived with a tray of food and, as was the custom, she untied the rope that bound Laney’s hands to the bedrail above her. She could sit up, and when her feet were also untethered, she was allowed to use a bucket to pee in—this was a repeat of her morning ritual. While she remained unbound, one of Kafka’s two male companions would stand outside the door and make sure that she didn’t try something foolish, like an attempt to escape.
This time, however, Ivana was alone and in a playful mood. The blonde began to paw at Laney’s body once she’d finished peeing in the bucket.
“Da boys play vit you; I do too, ja?” she smiled. They sat on the bed and Ivana pulled Laney’s head down to her tits, exactly where Laney had relished going since the beautiful breasts had first hovered over her face in the cellar room.
Laney held them in her hands, caressing the soft flesh, feeling at the same time grateful and scared of how much she desired the pleasure she was deriving from Ivana’s lovely flesh. The two became easily lost in the lesbian sexuality, as their bodies joined, writhing together, kissing and pawing, licking, sucking, slurping, their hips grinding into the other. Instinctively, Laney moved down Ivana’s fleshy body and began to lave her slit, darting her tongue between the labia, and finding her pungent tasting sex bud. After several minutes, dining on this lovely female’s fragrant pussy, Ivana came on Laney’s mouth. As the climax tore through her body, she was bellowing loudly, grabbing tightly for Laney’s hair, and holding her head in the vice-like grip of her powerful thighs. Her voice lifted to the rafters of the old shed and beyond.
“Ivana!” Kafka bellowed over her noisy come in an angry voice, which had very little effect on either of the women, until he moved into the shed and pulled Laney out from between Ivana’s pulsating thighs, and began slapping the buxom blonde. Meanwhile, Laney landed on the floor in the midst of the chaos and crawled to a corner where she was safe.
When the commotion was over and Ivana was scurrying out crying and swearing in her own language, Kafka found Laney huddled in the corner. Standing over her, his eyes still glared brilliantly. Laney looked up but remained clutching her bent knees to her chin. A tense moment followed, then Kafka’s face lightened as he reached for her.
“This one was not your battle, Mrs. Priestly. Ivana should not have come here.”
“Your other friends do.”
“Because that is permitted.” He had to pry Laney’s hands loose to pull her to her feet. Her naked body was against his, her breasts brushing against his chest, his mouth suddenly on hers, pressing hard, his tongue opening her mouth. She gave back effortlessly, knowing that if she made a lover of him, he couldn’t kill her.
Retreating to the bed, she carefully shed his clothes, while his hand roved across her heated skin and turned what Ivana started into a furnace of volcanic desire. She came at him once he was naked, practically clawing his body as fiercely as he clawed at hers. They coupled like frantic strangers, sharing nothing but their bodies and a heartfelt need to feel the flesh of another joined to theirs. Their hips locked, their chests were pressed tightly, their hands roved what they could find, and their mouths almost refused to be parted. Devouring each other seemed like the only sane solution to their private woes and it played out in a hard and simultaneous climax, when his cock slipped between her legs and into the randy portal. It had already been used that day, and had been made ready, the flesh warm and inviting his swiftly moving organ. The soft place pulsed with renewed desire, and drew him further into her with every thrust. She wanted him deeper inside her, and taking her more profoundly than the others had.
The rhythm between the two built fast until they exploded and finally fell out of each other’s arms.
