Chapter 6
Richard jerked at the end of the shorts hanging from Lydia's mouth, and suddenly she wasn't being choked by them any longer. Air filled her oral cavity, but it was bitter air indeed, and she almost wished that she were being strangled again.
"Not as good as I'd figured you for," Richard commented, touching the base of his cock, "but certainly not a bad piece of ass, considering." He looked down at his prick, at the thick cum which coated his knob, the last oozing traces of his orgasmic release. "Clean me off," he commanded then, moving his prick between her aching breasts, toward Lydia's mouth. "Lick me dry."
He bumped her lips with his dong and she felt his sticky, cummy touch, and she thought, What have I left to lose? She opened her mouth and he thrust inside.
Reluctantly, she sucked at the knob of Richard's cock, her tongue sloshing across him, taking away the lingering juices of sperm. At first she thought the taste of him would make her deathly sick to her stomach, but it didn't happen. There was a strange, tangy, almost nutty flavor to his cream, and she tried to remember if Uncle George's semen had tasted like this. It hadn't, she was positive. Her uncle's cum had been tart and bitter, like venom in her mouth. She tightened her lips a little, and felt Richard's dong begin to harden slightly in her grasp. "GGGGGG!!" Lydia whimpered in protest as the cock continued to stiffen. Richard leaned in and fed her a bit more of his organ, sliding it deeper into her mouth, so deep she felt his knob flirt -with the back of her throat, just as if he meant to fuck her there, too. She gargled on the large boner and he withdrew it partially, so that only the knob was still imbedded within her lips. Lydia raised her eyes in a weak, pathetic plea but she saw no sign of pity or remorse on his face.
"Are you gonna do her again?" Greg asked from the side of the bed. "You've already had your turn."
"So I'm greedy. Sue me." He stroked the sides of her face, nudging at her mouth with his erected pecker. Fully erect he was, now, as stiff as he'd been in her cunt, and it filled Lydia with dread. His cock moved into her mouth, a fraction of an inch, pressing down her tongue, and she swallowed hard.
She heard the door open at the other end of the room, but she couldn't turn her head because of the cock that impaled her lips, pinned her in this position. His flesh was warm and wet on her tongue, with the slightest bit of saltiness in its flavoring. She'd almost forgotten what a cock tasted like, Lydia thought. It had been such a long time.
"Well," Richard said, "did you get Bruno taken care of?"
"Yes," she heard Keith say. Of course it had to be Keith. So far she'd seen no evidence that anyone else was in on this abduction and rape. The only other creature around was apparently Bruno, whom she took to be a dog of some kind. He didn't matter.
Richard slipped his cock from Lydia's mouth. "Now," he told her, "I want you to worship my prick. Kiss it. Lick it. Treat it like a pagan idol. Breathe softly across the knob, then moisten it with your tongue. Improvise. But make it good."
"You son of a bitch," she whispered, but he only smiled. He pressed the underside of his cock against her lips and nudged his cockhead at one of her nostrils. Lydia's nose flared instinctively and he pushed a little harder. Her face froze, and she wondered if he intended to fuck her nostrils, too. He was crazy enough to try it. She began to breathe softly on his prick, just as he'd asked her to do. It seemed the easiest way out.
"Some tongue," he said. "Give me some tongue." She gave him tongue. She licked his pecker until the salty pre-cum oozed from his red slit and onto her tongue. Above her, Richard Welby smiled, his hands caressing her face. She didn't like his smile. The Nixon mask was preferable by far.
"Well," he said, turning to Keith, "since you've done your chores and fed Bruno, I think it's only fair that you should get your share of our special treat. Miss Pembroke's mouth is rather busy, but she has a cunt going to waste. Indeed, that's the reason why we brought her here today, I believe."
Keith said, "Jesus, I don't know if I can go through with it."
"Of course you can," Greg cut in. "We all agreed. It was the only way to teach her a lesson. This is no time for any of us to get weak-kneed."
She couldn't see what happened then, but she heard zipping, rustling, and in a few moments the bed sagged as a third person climbed aboard. Richard's body blocked her view of the foot of the bed, and she was trying to fulfill his commands about worshiping his hateful cock. Her tongue glided faster and faster, up and down the rigid shaft, and he lifted himself higher so she could lick into his undone fly and tap with her tongue on the sac of his balls. The tab of his zipper scratched her chin and her tongue picked up some stray hairs that made her cringe in shame.
Keith was on his knees between her legs. At least he'd had the grace to take off his pants. She couldn't see him but she felt his hands stroking her cum-smeared belly, rubbing up and down the sensitive area between her thightops and the puffy swell of her twat. In spite of her fear and humiliation, Lydia began to sense a subtle difference in her cuntal temperature. Her flesh was growing warmer with each caress of his fingers.
She squirmed, tongue still going up and down Richard's cock. Keith moved with her squirming, opening her cummy snatch and fishing inside with his middle finger. He found the mouth of her cunt and stole into it with quick, provocative penetrations, then withdrew his finger and brought it up to circle the region of her clitoris.
"Aaaaaaahhhhh," she sighed when he pushed down her rising button, working it furiously against her pubic bone. Her cunt seemed to jump up of its own volition, making itself more accessible to his caresses, and she opened her mouth in an oval-lipped sigh. In another moment that sigh was cut off and her mouth was full of Richard's cock.
"Suck now," he told her. "Suck me, if you please!"
If you please! Did it matter if she pleased or not? Lydia didn't think so. She closed her eyes and concentrated on sucking Richard's cock, but it was so hard to ignore the definitely interesting fingerwork Keith was giving her pussy.
She remembered last night, when she'd allowed him to lick and suck her cunt. He had shown a nice gift for the act, Lydia recalled, and warm pleasant memories flooded her as he continued to play with the lips and hole of her vagina. His technique was nowhere near so well developed as her own masturbation, but it wasn't bad at all. He kept pressing her love button, another finger tickling her pussy maw at the same time, and she felt her juices begin to flow—for real, this time. Her body was turning on!
In wonderment, Lydia began to suck harder on Richard's cock. The good feeling from her snatch was beginning to filter upward through her body, and her head swam with a growing sense of pleasure. Even rape, she thought, even rape mightn't be all bad, If only she had some freedom of motion ... if only she weren't tied down .. . oh, God, her arms and legs were aching from the strain of their bonds-Keith was still touching her, but not with his fingers now. Something larger, something very much larger. Lydia writhed, unsure whether she wanted to escape it or welcome it. His cock. She remembered it from last night, too. "You're hung like a horse," she'd told him, and his face had beamed with the pleasure of the compliment. He hadn't known that it was only part of her come-on, a buildup for the letdown.
"Uuuuuunnn nnhhhhhh -" Lydia grunted around Richard's thrusting cock as she felt Keith press his own against her slit. She'd been fucked twice in the past half hour, fucked for the first time in so many, many years, and Keith's prick was easily the largest of the bunch as it started to make the third penetration of her pussy. Her labia strained where his cock pressed against them, and she moved her hips nervously, unwilling to be used this way, but, since it was happening and she couldn't prevent it— "There!" Keith yelped as he broke her initial resistance and buried half of his pecker in her vaginal tube. Lydia squirmed and her cunt angled up to a small degree, but, large as he was, he didn't hurt as much as the first and second men had. And he'd used his fingers on her with such instinctive cleverness that the lining of her puss was already moist with honeycum. She tensed her lips on Richard's dong and let her tongue ride lightly across its inserted point. He grabbed at the sides of her head and leaned against her, shoving another inch or two into Lydia's mouth. She gulped but she took him, and her cheeks sucked in tightly upon the driving prick as it slid in, pulled out, slid in and fucked her again.
The deeper Keith slid his cock, the wetter her pussy grew, and the more agitation seized Lydia's hips and thighs. She was squirming frantically now, skinning up the bed from his advances, until she reached the limit of her rope and the knots dug into her ankles cruelly. And then she could move no further, and Keith's cock rammed home in her melting twat and she felt herself turn into oozing jelly all around him.
She relaxed, and the ropes loosed their strain a trifle, and Lydia realized that she was pushing her cunt toward him, not retreating. His belly was warm against her pubes and his prick was hard within her. He ground himself on her, making his cock do strange rotations inside her clutching wet walls, and she felt something ticklish on her clit—his pubic hair, Lydia surmised after a moment. Stiff and wiry it was, bristly, like masturbating with a hairbrush. She rebelled at the contact and started to slide away, but he came with her and again the tight ropes cut off her illusion of freedom. And his cock remained in her, thick and very hard, content for the moment just to spread the gap of her dilated twat.
She knew, almost as soon as he began to fuck for real, that she was going to climax.- The realization was stunning, and Lydia wasn't at all prepared for it. She knew, however, the makeup of her body, and she was no stranger to the emotional convulsions which accompanied her orgasms. It was all there. The sensation of tightness in her pussy, the increased tenderness of her clit, the foment of milky cream deep within her tunnel, the twitch of muscles halfway down her thighs—they were too plain to mistake. And to feel those warning signals here, now, with a man's cock in her mouth, another man's cock slithering in and out of her pussy—her astonishment affected Lydia's sense of control and she found herself slipping even closer to the brink of shattering release.
"Jesus," Richard commented, twining his fingers through her hair, "she's sucking like a piranha! Women! Give them a little and they want it all. You only have to show them who still runs this world. Isn't that right, Lydia?" he patted her forehead, almost gently. "Don't stop, for Chris-sake! When I come, I want to see it running out your ears!"
She wasn't listening. She could feel his hands on her, taste the cock that plunged in and out her mouth, flavored already with preliminary leakings of the cum he'd mentioned, but much more important to Lydia at that moment was the cock reaming her pussy, sliding up her to the balls, jiggling when he'd made full penetration, then withdrawing and coming up again like an army with banners.
His hands caressed her splayed twat lips, peeling open the tight, tender flanges as his cock ravished her, and Lydia felt a trace of cool air brush across her clitoris. In another moment that cool air had been replaced by a pair of hot fingers which pinched off the base of her love button and sent shudders of ecstatic pain telegraphing through her entire body.
"MMMMMMMMMMMMFFFFFFFFFFF!!!!!" she croaked around Richard's cock, and her tongue seemed to freeze in her mouth and her pussy became a pit of wet flame. Keith squeezed again on the base of her clit and she exploded like an H-Bomb, her pussy slapping at his stabbing cock in a nonstop series of convulsions, hot goo streaming through her gate.
She opened her mouth wide in a shriek, then snapped shut on Richard Welby's penis. Snapped too tightly. Her teeth clenched upon his cock, which had ceased to matter a split second ago, and despite his rigid erection, she proved capable of repaying her rapist for some of the injury he'd caused her. That the action was not at all intentional mattered little.
"You bitch!!" He pulled his cock from her mouth, past the clench of her gritting teeth, but in the process he had to force her mouth open with his thumb and she managed to bite that as well. She was numb from the neck up, she didn't even feel him strike her.
"F-f-f-f-fffffffffuuuuuuuuuu-" she snarled, her ass vibrating, swallowing in its convulsions the penis Keith continued to feed her in long, sure strokes that penetrated the ripples of her churning twat and socked home, banging Lydia where she lived.
She might have begged him to fuck her. Certainly the cry which burst from her lips could have gone in that direction. But Richard Welby stilled her voice in one quick, demeaning gesture. He laid his prick across her lips and shot his cum.
She snorted and choked as the thick mucus-like substance shot across her face, most of it, or so it seemed, squirting into her wide-flared nostrils. It burst up her nasal passages and into the chamber of her throat and she was choking and gagging and strangling on the stuff, even while her eyes blazed and batted to expel the lashings of semen that had blasted into them. Lydia's head swam and she hated this man with all her mind and heart, but she couldn't stop coming—not as long as Keith kept on stabbing her ecstatic twat with his logjam of a dick.
She felt him go off, erupting with tumultuous shudders and convulsions, deep in her vagina, and her pussy sucked at the cum almost contrapuntally with the efforts of her nose to blow out the jism Richard was still shooting up it. Her head was in hell and her cunt was in heaven. Somewhere, Lydia thought .wildly, it has to even out.
Dimly, she was aware of Keith going soft inside her, and she knew that he extracted himself despite the urgings, the rippled invitations of her pussy, to stay a little longer. She couldn't control her twat. Was it her fault if that treacherous hole was now betraying everything in which she believed? She felt the cock slither from her, felt a moist hot rush of mingled Keith and Lydia juices seeping from her pussy, coagulating in her bush, on her pussy flesh, and then, before she could moan or shudder or twitch her twat, another cock was being fed into her greedy snatch.
It was Greg. She couldn't see him but she eliminated Richard, for he was still perched atop her breasts, spilling the last of his second load on her face, and Greg was the only one left. He was hard, too, and his cock stabbed her pussy in a quick motion that brought their bellies together with a squishy "whoooopppppp" and his nuts were tickly on the cheeks of her ass, all over again.
She swallowed him with her cunt, and he thrust in a frenzy of motions. The dramatic explosion of her pussy was making Lydia numb all over—except in the slitted gash of her femininity. There she could feel everything. Each stroke, each crinkly swish of his pubic hair against her cunt. Even the throbbing of blood in the rigid shaft of his dong resonated through Lydia as if she were an echo chamber. She found herself anticipating the explosion of his cock, too, deep in her gash, and her pussy continued to bubble its way through little cum after little cum.
Richard descended from her, after wiping his smeared cock in her hair, and she could smell his man-milk all over her face, taste it in her mouth, but it didn't matter. "Oh, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus," she moaned over and over again, her voice slurry with the increase of saliva inside her mouth. She slobbered and drooled from her lips, and her tongue fluttered wildly in her mouth, battering her teeth from behind, tracing their smooth white lines, showing now and then in the crack of her lips. Her pussy lifted and plummeted as Greg worked his cock inside it, and she was nothing but raw wet flesh molded around the hard, cylindrical shape of his ramrod. Her legs strained at the binding ropes and she wanted them to be free, wanted them to kick in the air, to wrap and enfold his body as he plunged his sickle-like tool into her, time and time again.
She looked to the sides. Richard and Keith were both watching, one flanking the bed in each direction. They were beaming, as if they'd done something worthy of praise and merit. Damn them! Damn them!! Damn them to hell!!! They'd only abducted and raped a helpless woman, forced her to betray herself with her own body. Hell was too good for them. Oh, Christ!! She felt it in her guts, a churning, massive explosion of feeling that rumbled and tossed like a storm at sea, and then she was coming . .. really coming ... exploding with it. Her heart swelled as big as a fucking pumpkin in her breast, swelled so enormously she couldn't breathe, couldn't see, couldn't think ... could only feel... feel... feel...
"AAAAAAAARRRRRRRGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!" Lydia bellowed as darkness settled upon her and that driving prick continued its relentless assault upon the depths of her sex.