The Contest

More stories written for Biker_1980.  They’re one side of an email correspondence and so they’re disjointed.  All you really need to know is that I’m taking part in a contest against some other girls in a remote stone cottage in Scotland (though I seem to have forgotten that half way through and re-located to the West Country.  Sorry.)

.

 

Sitting on the cold stone floor of the cottage, I tip my head back as you unscrew the bottle and trickle whisky onto my outstretched tongue.  It burns in my throat as I close my eyes, licking my whisky lips.  Crouching, you spread my thighs and stroke your fingers along my swollen cunt lips, their flesh grazed and red from the rope burns.  I watch you take a swig, sucking the glass for a moment before you slowly ease the neck of the bottle along my slit, making me gasp as it brushes my clit, and press it against my arsehole, screwing it firmly into me. 

 
I whimper as it stretches my hole wider, my eyes and mouth wide Os of shock as you jam it roughly in, snatching my ankles and tipping me onto my back, the bottle tipped up and the whisky glugging into me.  I scream and writhe as its burning heat floods my bowels, they’re swollen and aching and I can hear it sloshing about inside me as I struggle.  Tossing my head from side to side I catch nightmarish glimpses of my rivals.  One girl crawling across the floor, a bottle protruding from her arse, sobbing, another turned upside down, her man’s arm around her waist, the whisky frothing in the bottle as he shakes her up and down, her limbs flailing helplessly as her tits flop against her ribs.  The third girl sighs out a low, hopeless moan as she rocks on a wooden rocking chair before the range, her legs hooked over its arms, whisky lapping up and down in the bottle as it washes into her. 

 
The whisky soaks through into my bloodstream and my body feels heavy and drugged, my head buzzing and my eyes blurred.  In my drunkenness, I lie sprawled on the floor, the room spinning and lurching around me as the game begins.

 
In turn, we are dragged into the cold night air, shivering, our teeth chattering in the Highland gale, to the pump.  We are each to be sobered up and the winner will be the girl who endures the longest.  Trembling, I listen to the screams of first one girl, then another, followed each time by a terrible silence.  When my turn comes, my rival’s men come for me, hoisting me up, one behind me, his arms hooked under mine, his hands roughly squeezing and kneading my tits, the two others taking a leg each, their fingers digging into my buttocks as they swing me up into the air. 

 
In my drunkenness I watch two images of you standing behind the pump blur and separate before merging into one fuzzy picture.  Your hands rest lightly on the long handle of the pump, your arms tense and sinewy.  The men swing me through the air, my legs hauled apart, forwards and back, forwards and back until, with a yell of triumph, they impale my cunt on the curved, rusty iron spout of the pump. 

 
Curling and tightening your fingers on the pump handle, you slowly draw it up and then slam it down hard, with all your weight.  Icy water, water from the mountain beck, gushes into my cunt and I scream and kick, every nerve in my body electric with the shock of it.  You pull the handle up again and pause for a moment, watching me gasping and fighting, then you slam it down again and the freezing water floods my womb. 

 
“Reckon she can take another?” laughs one of the men.  “Flood the bitch and find out” laughs another.  “Fucking drown her from the inside.”

 
You lift the handle again and our eyes meet for a moment as I silently plead with you, my lips forming words I’m too cold and shocked to speak, begging you to stop.  You plunge the handle down again and this time, as the water rushes into me, some sprays out across my belly, making everyone laugh.  “This bitch is full up!”  “The slut’s spurting, she must be fucking cumming, she’s getting off on it!”  “Oh man that’s cool, do it again!”

 
I’m twisting and writhing against the spout now, snivelling at the painful distension of my insides.  As you raise the pump handle you look at me again and say, quietly and evenly, “Do you want more, Lucy?”  Shivering I shake my head, my lips quivering as I gulp back my sobs.

 
“Do you want to win, Lucy?”

 
You hold my gaze for what seems like minutes.  My body feels heavy and swollen, my cunt is stretched and aching, the men’s fingers dig painfully into my flesh, bruising it, and I feel sick from the whisky.  Finally I nod, almost imperceptibly.  Yes, I want to win.

 
As you slam the handle down for the last time, the force of water gushing into my cunt makes my body jerk violently, my cunt slipping free of the rusty spout, the men dropping me heavily to the muddy cobbles.  My head cracks off the cobbles as I fall and the impact rings and throbs through my head. 

 
Water trickles from my cunt into a puddle between my awkwardly splayed thighs and freezing rain prickles my blue skin.  As I listen to you go inside the cottage with the others for the final contestant, I hear another sound, closer to me.  It’s the tick tick tick of nails on cobbles as the cottage’s guard dog, a wiry, massive wolf hound, pads across to lap at the puddle of water.  Its long rough tongue laps against my cunt and I moan, squirming as its tongue parts my cunt lips and slides right inside me, curling round my clit.  The beast growls deep in the back of its throat as I arch and squeal and sob out my agonising, wracking orgasm.     

 

 

Following a contest that ends with all the girls being chased naked across a field and whipped with handfuls of nettles, we’re left to our own devices for a while.

 
Lying, twisted and splayed, my cunt throbs with the sting of the bunch of nettles stuffed crudely into it and my head throbs with the glare of the sun beating down on my broken body.  I moan weakly, my head flopping to one side, licking my cracked, dry lips.  I tug at my ankles, the wire tightening around them, cutting into my flesh, I pluck at the tape around my thigh, ripping it away and flinging the maddening vibrator across the field.  Then helpless, I flop back, eyes screwed shut against the sun, arms flung wide, feeling the breeze ripple across my skin and stir the nettles protruding from my cunt.  A bead of sweat slowly trickles down between my tits, across my belly, between my thighs.

 
The day passes in an idle, bee-loud daze.  A tree rustles, a bird sings and one of my rivals chokes back a sob.  The sun bronzes my skin.  I struggle into a sitting position and tug at the wire again, freeing one ankle, twisting as I flop back down onto my belly in the grass, the sun warming and browning the skin on my back.  Each movement makes me hiss through my teeth as a fresh salvo of stings peppers the swollen flash of my cunt.  I press my face against my arm, biting my flesh as I ride the pain, feeling the warm, glowing throb pulse through my nerve endings, feeling a drop of juice tremble on the tip of my clit. 

 
I doze, my sleep disturbed by dreams in which I’m running, frantic and terrified, through a forest, the branches and twigs seeming to reach out and grab at me as I push past them, the thunder of a dark, dreadful something getting closer behind me.  Brambles wrap themselves around my ankles and wrists, growing as I watch them, lifting me off the ground.  They spiral round my thighs and waist, their thorns digging into my soft flesh.  As I scream and struggle they bind themselves around my breasts and force themselves into my cunt and arse, growing inside me, tearing through my flesh and bursting from my mouth as I yell out one final, despairing scream…

 
I wake with a start and lift my head, flinching as I look into the face of the bull, the steam from his nostrils spraying my face as he snorts, sniffing me, his ears twitching, his red eyes blinking lazily.  His long, muscular tongue slowly laps at my cheek and I squeal, dripping with his saliva.  He loses interest in me and turns, plodding across to my terrified rivals who whimper and squeak, their ankles dripping blood as they struggle to free themselves.  As the bull turns I see his cock, hanging heavily below him, swaying as he walks and I gasp.  It’s at least a foot long, the width of my arm, its head like a bunched fist.  It drips cum, glistening and veined.

 
He lowers his head, sniffing at the next girl’s cunt.  She screams as his tongue laps along her slit.  Twisting and tugging, I free my other ankle and take my chance to escape.  Running across the field, pushing through the tall grass and nettles, breasts and buttocks bouncing as I race, panting and covered with a sheen of sweat, my hair plastered to my face, I make desperately for the cottage which I can see in the distance, my heart pounding as I hear the thunder of hooves closing in on me. 

 

I can see you now, standing with the other men outside the cottage, jeering and shouting as I run.  “Run faster, bitch!”  “Fucking run you lazy slut!”  “Come on bull, catch yourself a cow!”  I reach the gate and start to scramble up it, reaching out a hand to you, my lungs burning, panting too hard to speak.  The gate shudders as the bull mounts it, his front hooves clattering down on its top rail as his monstrous cock impales me with a single thrust.  I howl, crushed against the gate, jerking limply, arms flailing and tits flopping against my ribs as he hammers his cock into me, my eyes wide and filled with tears that streak my cheeks as I plead through trembling lips.  “Oh God, oh God, no, please, help me, please make it stop, I can’t, oh God noooooooooooo!”

 
With a bellow, the bull pumps his spunk deep into my womb.  His snorts and your cheers ring in my ears as his cock slips from my gaping, bruised cunt and I tumble over the gate, landing in an awkward heap, one arm still caught up in its bars, the last spurt of spunk from the bull’s cock splashing my face.  Spunk drips from my cunt and I moan softly as a shadow falls across me.  You’re looking down at me.  “Get up Lucy, you’re in the way, we need to open the gate and fetch the other girls.  It’s time for the next game.”   

 

 

Today’s contest is to collect spunk in a bucket, by any means possible.

 
In a panic, we all picked up our buckets and began to stumble across the rutted field, our heels sinking in the mud, racing each other towards the next field and the snorting, whinnying horses that poked their noses over the thorny hedgerow at us.  My stockings were ripped to shreds as I forced my way through a gap in the hedge, too eager to go the long way round over the fence.  But at the last moment my hair caught on a briar and I tugged frantically at it, moaning hopelessly as I watched the other girls crawling under the skittish, trembling stallions, wrapping their hands around their huge, quivering cocks and licking experimentally at their tips.

 
I tore myself free and raced across to the only horse that was left, a monstrous, eighteen hands beast that snuffled at the air, flaring its nostrils as it caught a waft of cunt and pounding the ground nervously with its hooves.  With a sudden flash of inspiration I climbed up on a tree stump, slung my bucket over my arm and clambered onto his broad back, gripping his mane tightly with both hands.  He reared, tossing his head and I held on for dear life, my thighs gripping tightly to his flanks and then, with a jog from my knee he was off, cantering across the field and heading for the gate to the road.  I screwed my eyes tightly shut as we neared the jump, remembering every gymkhana jump-off I’d ridden on my little fat pony.  With a squeal I felt the beast rise beneath me and I threw my arms around his neck, tipping forwards as his muscles tensed and he lunged forwards, splintering the gate and thundering onto the road, his ears back, his hooves ringing on the tarmac.

 
Instinctively, on the road, he calmed into a trot and I let go of his neck, holding his mane again, straightening my back and bouncing as he rose and fell beneath me, my tits juddering and flopping heavily against my ribs, my buttocks shuddering as they slapped down against his back.  Between my legs I could feel the ridge of his spine, hard and warm and bristling with coarse hairs that tickled and maddened my clit as I squirmed against it.  Each jog trot slammed my pussy roughly against his back and I found myself letting my head fall back, my face to the warm sun, a cool breeze rippling across my jiggling body, drying the sheen of sweat that covered it.

 
The roar of a motor and a hooting of a motor horn made me jump, still looking straight ahead, my face flushed pink as the Landrover full of young farmers passed me, its occupants’ faces distorted in jeers and yells.  A vicar on a bicycle coming towards me almost swerved off the road, his eyes and mouth perfect ‘O’s of shock.  The local bus pulled up behind me, unable to pass.  I looked anxiously over my shoulder and saw the grinning driver, watching my arse bounce up and down, in no hurry to overtake.  When he finally did, I glanced furtively at the bus windows, a mixture of curious children being pulled away by their parents and adults with their camera phones pressed to the glass.

 
As we passed a sign for the village I thought my plan had failed, but just before my horse could lead me through the high street on market day he turned off down the track that led to his stables.  We turned into the cobbled stable yard just as the stable lads were mucking out the stables.  They greeted us with whistles and frank amazement as I slid ungraciously off my horse, still clutching my bucket.

 
“Now then my love, you seem to have lost something along the way,” said one in a soft country burr as he leaned against his pitchfork.

 
I was so out of breath I could hardly get my words out.  “No time, in a race, got to fill bucket…”  I held it out, as if to demonstrate the concept of a bucket.

 
“Oh yes, bucket is it my love?  And what do you have to fill your bucket with then?”

 
I looked around the smiling faces as they drew a little closer.  Suddenly conscious of my nakedness I clasped the bucket to my breasts.

 
“I have to…I mean, that is…well I have to fill it with…”

 
“Spit it out my love.”

 
Emboldened by the irony that ‘spit it out’ was exactly what I was going to have to do, I took a deep breath and said, in a voice that turned out to be louder and more ringing than I’d planned, “I have to fill it with spunk.”

 
There was a moment’s silence.  A bird twittered.  Then the stable lads began to laugh, leaning on their forks and brushes, half doubled up, their laughter getting louder and wheezier as it went on.  I felt suddenly cross, this was wasting time.

 
“Well, are you going to help me or not?”

 
“Oh, we can help the lady, can’t we lads?”

 
In the gloom of the stable I wriggled, sharp pieces of straw digging into my flesh from the bales piled around me.  They had piled up two bales and then laid me lengthways along them, bent at the waist with my toes on the floor.  Then all around me they had built them up until they surrounded me with only my head sticking out.

 
“Are you sure about this?”

 
“Yes, you trust a stable lad to know about horses.  You see you’re going to get them all excited and you don’t want one of them to accidentally kick you in the head, do you?  This way we can lead them in, they can put their fore hooves up on the bales and their cocks will be just at head height for you.  We’ll put your bucket down here…”

 
He placed it on the floor beneath me.

 
“We’ll start with that stallion you got all fired up.  One the others get the whiff of sex they’ll be stiff as tree trunks and ready for you.”

 
I swallowed hard at mention of ‘the others’ and looked down the long stable block with maybe twelve stalls on each side, each with a snorting animal pacing behind its gate. 

 
It took two of them to lead my stallion in on ropes.  He reared and crashed down again, stamping and slavering, his eyes bloodshot, steam streaming from his nostrils.  At a sharp slap on his rump he reared up onto the bales and my eyes widened, my heart racing as his cock bobbed before my face.  It was a good eighteen inches long, veined and knotty, its tip scarlet and dribbling spunk.  I was on the verge of crying out that I’d changed my mind when, from behind, a fat cock was rammed into my cunt.  I opened my mouth to scream and the stable lads stuffed the horse’s cock into my mouth. 

 
My cheeks bulged and I writhed, trying to wriggle away from it but my arms were trapped at my sides by the bales and I was firmly impaled on the thrusting cock.  I tried to slide my tongue out from where it was trapped beneath the beast’s shaft but it was no good, all I could do was moan helplessly as it slid into my throat, my neck bulging.  I started to choke, my face red as strings of thick white saliva dripped from the corners of my mouth and down my chin.  With a triumphant yell, the owner of the pounding cock slammed hard into me one last time and flooded my cunt with his cum, pulling straight out as he was instantly replaced by another cock that assaulted me with fresh vigour. 

 
My jaw ached, my lips trembling as the stallion thrust his cock halfway down my throat now and started fucking it in and out.  Flecks of white sweat covered his flanks as he thrust, the smell of spunk and my dripping cunt exciting the other horses now.  I raised my eyes to look up at the huge beast and saw him draw his lips back over his teeth just as his spunk began to spurt into my mouth.  I whimpered as I felt warm globules of spunk slide down my throat and as the horse pulled his cock from my lips I spat what remained in my mouth into the bucket below, sniveling as I realised how little I’d managed not to swallow.

 
There was no rest.  Another cock plugged my cunt and started labouring away at it and another sweating, frothing stallion was led forwards.  This time I stretched my tongue out as he slid down my throat, lapping at his shaft as he fucked me, bringing him off faster, swallowing less spunk.  With each horse I grew more expert, pursing my lips against their invading cocks, sucking on them, using my tongue stud to excite them before they could completely choke me.  Each time I filled my bucket a little more.  There were disasters – a young, over excited horse who sprayed his spunk all over my face before I could get him into my mouth, another with a cock so thick I could barely stretch my lips around it and couldn’t swallow more than the head of his cock.  In his frustration he kicked away the straw bales and had to be restrained with ropes, the stable lads shouting at each other as they handled him.

 
“His blood’s up, we won’t hold him.”

 
“He’ll choke the lass, he’s too big.”

 
“Bring him round, bring him round, he needs his release somehow.”

 
“Nay, he’ll split her in two.”

 
“She’s sloppy enough by now, she’ll stretch to take him.”

 
It took two of them to lift his cock and stuff it past my swollen, dripping pussy lips and firmly into my cunt.  I screamed, tears prickling my eyes as my cunt was ripped open by his hot, throbbing meat.  I struggled on it, my writhing only driving it deeper until it felt as though it skewered my whole body and its head might thrust out from between my parted lips.  As he hammered it into me my whole body jerked limply, my cries turning to moans as tears streaked my cheeks.  My moans growing louder with each thrust until I found myself screaming, “Yes!  Yes!  YES!!!”

 
His cock exploded inside me, spunk spraying out, filling my cunt and dripping down my thighs, spraying my arse as he pulled out, his cock still shuddering and spurting.  With a sob I looked down at my bucket – barely a quarter full – and thought of all the spunk sloshing around inside me, wasted. 

 
The stable lads carried me out to the yard and dunked me in a horse trough to clean me off, stripping off my ruined stockings and shoes and lending me a pair of Wellington boots.  Carrying my bucket with both hands I tottered to the road then began walking along the grass verge, my thumb stuck out whenever I heard a vehicle approach. 

 
The dark green lorry that finally pulled up in front of me had a tailgate and a khaki canvas sheet.  Lifting my bucket up before me, I scrambled onto the lowered tailgate and pushed through the canvas.  “Oh.  Hello boys.”

 
Grins slowly spread across the startled faces of the soldiers.  “Hello, erm, miss.  Where are you off to with your bucket?”

 
Well, time was against me so I explained as quickly as I could.  “Kept prisoner – fucked with bottles – water pump – barbed wire fence – fucked by bull – horse spunk – fucked by stable lads – fucked by horse – race against time – all in a good cause – don’t suppose you could help?”

 
Kneeling on the scrubbed wooden floor of the mess, it struck me what an apt name that was for what was about to happen to me.  With not much time left I had to wrap the fingers of each hand around a cock while I sucked a third, slobbering and slurping each cock up hungrily, stretching my tongue right out to tickle its tip against their balls, sometimes gripping a cock with both hands and wanking it firmly while I sucked the soldier’s balls into my mouth, rolling them round with my tongue.  And each time I felt a cock start to quiver and twitch, I lifted my bucket up and aimed the arc of spunk into it with a splash.

 
My bucket was half full now and I was feeling very pleased with myself.  I even had enough time to go round them all once more.  I crawled across the floor towards a soldier boy with beautiful caramel skin, wide brown eyes and eight inches of cock bobbing, semi-hard, in front of his belly.  I grinned up at him, flickering my tongue against the tip of his cock, kissing and nibbling it.  He looked down at me, his face serious.  “Nah darlin’, we done summat for you, reckon it’s time you did summat for us.”

 
Hands grasped my arms and hauled me to my feet, bending me over a tale.  I fought back crossly.  “Let me go you bastards, I don’t have time for this, my bucket’s still only half full, noooo, you promised!”

 
A rifle was cocked in front of my face, its barrel slid into my mouth and I froze, my heart pounding.

 
“Shut the fuck up you slag!  Now you got what you came for so me an’ my mates are gonna take what we want.”

 
Unseen hands grabbed my buttocks and yanked them apart.  I whimpered as saliva splattered against my arsehole, dripping down to my slit.  I bit the barrel of the rifle, screaming as the first cock rammed brutally into me, hammering home as the soldiers cheered, stamping their boots on the wooden floor in time with each thrust, making the whole room shudder and echo with their howls.  I gripped the edge of the table, weeping and trembling, blinking the tears from my eyes with fluttering lashes, snot dripping from my nose as they raped me.

 
My tears splashed into the bucket of cum and I sobbed louder as I pictured myself the losing girl.  Coming home last, with the smallest bucket full, kneeling on the floor, my wrists tied behind my back, my head tipped back, a funnel stuffed down my throat as the other girls cackled and squealed and tipped their bucket-loads down my throat, their nipples rock hard, their clits throbbing, their thighs slick with juice as they watched me spluttering weakly, literally drowning in spunk.

 
I sighed as the last man slipped from my gaping arse, his cum dripping in long sticky trails from my hole.  The barrel of the rifle was drawn from my mouth and I licked my dry lips, tasting metal. 

 
“What we gonna do wiv her, boys?  Don’t want her making no official complaint to the regiment, do we?”  The soldier walked slowly round me, his boots echoing on the boards and, as the room grew eerily still and silent, he slid the barrel of his rifle easily into my arsehole.

 
“Not sure about this, mate” said another of the soldiers, softly.  “Couldn’t we just do what we did wiv that blonde slag an’ dump her in the river?”

 
I lifted my head, looking back over my shoulder at him, barely speaking above a whisper.  “Please, I’m begging you please, I won’t tell anyone, I swear.  All I want is to get back to the race, I just don’t want to be the one to lose.  Please let me go, you’ve had your fun and you helped me, I’m so grateful for that *sob* oh God, please…”

 
The room held its breath and then he slowly withdrew his rifle.  “She’s fucking mental.  She wants us to let ‘er go so she can stagger about the fields naked with a bucket full of cum!  Even if she shopped the lot of us, who the fuck would believe ‘er?”

 
There was relieved laughter and the knot of soldiers broke up.  Taking my chance I lifted my bucket – much heavier now – and made a dash for the door, skittering across the parade ground and past the surprised sentries.

 
I had lost track of time, the sun seemed lower in the sky, for all I knew it was already too late but I struggled on, my arms and back aching, sweat plastering my hair to my face, mud caking my Wellingtons as I laboured along a pitted, muddy track.  Turning a bend my heart leapt as I saw ahead of me another naked girl dragging a bucket.  I raced ahead, catching up with Sally, eying her bucket enviously, slightly fuller than mine.  I smiled a broad, insincere smile.

 
“Sally!  How are you getting on?  You seem to be doing very well.”

 
She scowled at me.  “Oh fuck off and leave me alone.  It’s alright for you – you enjoy being abused and assaulted and locked up and beaten.  I’m only here because to stop my boyfriend’s legs being broken over his gambling debts.  If I win he gets to walk, if I lose then it’s a knock on the door, two guys named Vinny and a gunshot to each kneecap.  So you can fuck right off ‘cos I’m not going to lose.”  And she gave me a shove that sent me stumbling into the ditch, spunk sloshing over the side of the bucket.

 
Enraged, I scrambled to my feet and ran after her, kicking sharply at the backs of her knees and bringing her crashing face down into the mud, her bucket tipping, rolling away, its contents starting to seep out.  She screamed and tried to buck me off her back and I reached around her head, forcing my fingers into her nostrils and yanking her head back.  She rolled onto her side, throwing me off and scrambled on top of me, kneeing me in the belly and digging her fingers into my breast, squeezing until I gasped and arched my back, clawing at her face.  She spat at me, and I winced, rubbing it out of my eyes and then I screamed, winded and shocked as her fist slammed into my cunt.  I tried to crawl away but she grabbed hold of my ankle, dragging me back through the mud.  As she leaned over me I lifted my elbow smartly into her face.  She shrieked and reeled back and I rolled onto my back, lifting my leg to kick between her thighs.  She slumped back on her bottom in the mud, blood dripping from her nose, a dazed expression. 

 
Slithering and stumbling I got to my feet, grabbing a fistful of her hair and dragging her towards her bucket.  I righted it, still satisfyingly half full of cum, wrapped her hair firmly round one fist, pressed my other hand to the back of her neck and plunged her, face down, into the bucket.  She struggled and jerked, bubbles popping from her nose and mouth, burbling her screams into the bucket.  I straddled her back, pushed her head deeper down and watched the bubbles slow until only an occasional one popped and burst on the surface.  She grew limp in my grip and I tugged on her hair, her face emerging, dripping spunk, her eyes wide and glazed, her mouth hanging open.  I rolled her into the ditch, poured the contents of her bucket into mine and, struggling to lift it, staggered on.

 
In the distance I could see the cottage, the orange glow of the setting sun glinting off its windows.  My whole body ached but my heart felt light as I wondered if I could possibly have won?  And what would it mean if I had? What would my reward be?  And what would my punishment be if I hadn’t brought the fullest bucket?

 

 

Luckily, I had brought the fullest bucket and so I entered the final which was a paintball contest.

 
“Gentlemen, the weapon for this game is the SP8 semi-automatic paintball gun with laser beam sight.  It fires a 3 shot burst on manual and 17 balls per second on automatic, averaging 1,000 to 1,400 shots from one load and with a velocity…”

 
He turned and fired a shot at Claire’s belly.  She let out a gasp and, winded, landed on her bottom on the floor.

 
“…that can stun one of these sluts at 40 paces.”

 
“The contest is a tie-break between Chloe and Lucy, each of their partners may restrain them as they choose using the materials to hand.  The guns are loaded, as you will observe…”

 
He gestured vaguely at Claire, who sat on the floor trailing her fingers across her bruised belly then sucking them clean.  “…with the spunk they so very kindly collected for us.  Each contestant will use his opponent’s slut for target practice and the winner is the cunt who’s still wriggling at the end.”

 
I stood, hugging myself and trembling as I watched Chloe’s partner lash her wrists together and toss the loose end of rope over a ceiling beam, hauling her clear of the floor.  She whimpered, kicking her legs, her smooth ebony skin glistening with sweat, her eyes wide and frightened.  Bending and grabbing hold of her ankles, he locked them into the shackles of the spreader bar and stepped back to admire the terrified girl.

 
I was lost in wonder as a tear trickled down her cheek and her lips began to tremble and contort in her first sob, and so I jumped when my arm was grabbed and I was yanked into the middle of the room.  Roughly, my ankles were pulled apart and locked in place, the muscles of my inner thigh aching from being stretched so wide.  My wrists were hauled behind my back and tied tightly and again the rope was tossed over the beam.  This time, when it was pulled, I bent double at the waist, my arms rising stiffly behind me, wrenching at my shoulders, lifting me onto my tip toes with my head hanging down and my hair streaming to the floor.  Unseen hands brushed my hair away from my face, gathering it into a pony tail, twisting it and finally knotting it firmly to the dangling end of the rope, jerking my head back sharply, my eyes watering as my hair was tugged.

 
“Gentlemen, take up your weapons and step up to your targets.  On the count of three, fire at will…”

 
Peering up, I watched the gun barrel as it lifted, listened to the click of the safety catch and held my breath as my assailant slowly walked around behind me. 

 
“One…”

 
Sneaking a sideways glance at Chloe, I gasped as I saw the red point of the laser sight play across her belly and heavy, rounded tits.

 
“Two…”

 
I let out an involuntary sob, so frightened now but terrified too of losing.

 
“Three…”

 
A burst of three shots exploded across my buttocks making me scream and lose my footing, scrabbling for a toe hold as I swung helplessly at the end of the rope, my hair almost pulled from its roots.  Cold spunk dripped down my bruised bum as another short burst sprayed my thighs.  Chloe’s screams rang in my ears until I couldn’t tell where her screaming ended and mine began.  Lowering the gun he fired up at my belly and my tits, making me shriek and jerk on the end of my rope.  Then standing in front of me he raised the gun and pointed it into my face, pausing, making me wait.

 
The first automatic burst of fire splattered my face with cum – into my eyes, up my nose and into my screaming mouth.  I choked hard, my face red, coughing up spunk and letting it drool down my chin as he forced the barrel between my lips and fired another automatic burst down my throat, gagging me and making my belly twitch convulsively as it grew taut and rounded and full.

 
I hung limply, my mouth hanging open and spunk dripping onto the floor as he walked around behind me again and I cried out as he shoved the barrel of the gun roughly into my cunt.  “Noooooooooooooooooooo!”  My screams became a howl of outrage as the hammering gun fire flooded my cunt with spunk until it sprayed out in a wide arc across the room.  Whipping the barrel from my cunt he forced it brutally into my tight arsehole and held the trigger down.  The gun thrummed like a drill as it pumped shot after shot of spunk into my bowels until they were cramped and painfully full.

 
Sobbing and shivering, my eyes red and stinging, I blinked the cum away as I watched him calmly re-load his gun from my bucket.  As he walked back around me he trailed the tip of the gun along my spine, making me shudder, then along the crack of my arse until its tip rested against the tip of my clit, nestling against it until I could feel the cold metal encircle it.  In the split second it took me to realise what was about to happen, my stomach lurched and then a white-hot needle of pain shot through my clit as he pulled the trigger and blasted it with 17 shots a second of hammering globs of spunk.

 
My whole body jack-knifed, jerking uncontrollably on the end of its ropes, my eyes and mouth wide in a terrified scream.  And as I screamed I realised I was no longer screaming at the pain, I was cumming, harder than I’d ever cum before and it was going on and on and on, every one of those 17 shots a second blasting new shockwaves through my tortured clit.

 
Through the static buzz of white noise in my head I became dimly aware of the hooting, hollering approval of the men as the last spurts of spunk splattered my cunt.  Caked in spunk, my face a mask of white, sticky goo, every bit of my bruised body dripping with cum, I hung there, twirling slowly on my ropes, snivelling and hiccupping and coughing.

 
I flinched in sympathy as I heard the crack of your rifle butt across Chloe’s cheek.

 
“This one’s broken.”

 
“No, listen carefully, you can barely hear it but she’s moaning.”

 
Lifting my weary head I looked at her, as caked and dripping as I was, her head slumped forwards, her eyes glazed and staring, unseeing.

 
Abandoning her to hang there, you walked across to me, sliding the tip of your rifle under my chin and lifting it so I could look up at you.

 
“Congratulations, cunt.  Looks like you’re the winner.  Now how should I reward you, I wonder?”

 
Silently, trembling, I opened my mouth, screwing my eyes tight shut as you aimed your rifle down my throat and began to squeeze the trigger…

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Comments

[somf1963-charles seguin]

Is it wrong to be so turned on by this.