Paula, ignoring her clitoris but pushing his hand into her vagina and then withdrawing. She found at last that she could no longer resist the inevitable excitement deep in her belly and felt herself begin to moisten. She was helpless, a captive; there was nothing she could do about it so nothing was her fault. They were the only law here and she had to accept it.
Through half-closed eyes she saw Davis’s companion begin to buck and thrust into the girl’s mouth and Paula knew that she herself was moaning even as he cried out and spurted himself into her throat and Davis’s hand allowed her nowhere to hide her pleasure.
For what seemed like hours Paula and her two companions were kept busy, scurrying back and forth. She lost count of the hands which stroked her buttocks and pushed casually into her sex, not caring whether they excited her or not, only interested in the pleasure it gave them. And under so many anonymous hands, she herself became anonymous. She was simply a body to be used, and she submitted quietly when one of the brothers who had been fondling her ordered her to kneel in front of one of the chairs. She offered him her buttocks and opened her legs immediately, recognising him as one of the men who had administered the punishments. The leather of the chair was cool and smooth under her body as she pressed her breasts down onto it. The brother who wanted her had been idly rummaging his fingers inside her for some minutes and his member now slipped easily into her wet vagina. The constant handling of her breasts and sex had left Paula in an almost permanent state of arousal, and now at last her impatient channel was filled and she felt it eagerly gripping the shaft as it pushed into her and began to steadily ream her out. Bright shafts of pure pleasure lanced through her every time it rammed in, never had she experienced anything so intense. But then never had she been so aroused for so long, so constantly and arrogantly handled, so frightened and so abused. The fires in her belly grew and she gasped in delight when she heard his body slap against hers and his member seemed to penetrate to the neck of her womb. Urgently, she moved her hips against his thrusts and ground hard against him when he pressed in. She was just as helpless impaled on his sex as if she had been tied for his whip. And that thought made her moan as his thrusts became harder and faster. It was her second rape and she was building towards a devastating climax, surges of primal joy making her cry out as she juddered and writhed under the assault of the sex which was piercing her so ruthlessly.
Suddenly her hair was grabbed and her head pulled painfully far back. She found herself staring up at Davis who regarded her coolly as she undulated and writhed, finally crying out joyfully as she felt her climax break over her and the man’s seed flood into her. Davis didn’t let her go until the man had withdrawn and she moaned again as he left her empty. He nodded thoughtfully. “You’re a whore alright. I wasn’t sure for a while, but you’re a whore right enough,” he said and let her head fall back.
Dazed from her orgasm and petrified to learn how close she had been to disaster she got to her feet and resumed her duties. She felt the semen begin to trickle down her thighs as she served more wine to a table where one of the sisters was sitting. She got a ringing smack on her buttocks from her.
“Wipe yourself you slut. Why d’you think you’ve got an apron?” she said.
Without even thinking about it, Paula opened her legs in the middle of the room and did as she was told, pushing the cloth back between her thighs and wiping it along the groove of her sex, pressing it in hard to soak up the sticky emission. She was acting the part of a complete whore and doing it well, she told herself. She lost count from then on of how many men took her, but was grateful they all wanted her sex rather than her mouth.
Each of the men drove her to
Through half-closed eyes she saw Davis’s companion begin to buck and thrust into the girl’s mouth and Paula knew that she herself was moaning even as he cried out and spurted himself into her throat and Davis’s hand allowed her nowhere to hide her pleasure.
For what seemed like hours Paula and her two companions were kept busy, scurrying back and forth. She lost count of the hands which stroked her buttocks and pushed casually into her sex, not caring whether they excited her or not, only interested in the pleasure it gave them. And under so many anonymous hands, she herself became anonymous. She was simply a body to be used, and she submitted quietly when one of the brothers who had been fondling her ordered her to kneel in front of one of the chairs. She offered him her buttocks and opened her legs immediately, recognising him as one of the men who had administered the punishments. The leather of the chair was cool and smooth under her body as she pressed her breasts down onto it. The brother who wanted her had been idly rummaging his fingers inside her for some minutes and his member now slipped easily into her wet vagina. The constant handling of her breasts and sex had left Paula in an almost permanent state of arousal, and now at last her impatient channel was filled and she felt it eagerly gripping the shaft as it pushed into her and began to steadily ream her out. Bright shafts of pure pleasure lanced through her every time it rammed in, never had she experienced anything so intense. But then never had she been so aroused for so long, so constantly and arrogantly handled, so frightened and so abused. The fires in her belly grew and she gasped in delight when she heard his body slap against hers and his member seemed to penetrate to the neck of her womb. Urgently, she moved her hips against his thrusts and ground hard against him when he pressed in. She was just as helpless impaled on his sex as if she had been tied for his whip. And that thought made her moan as his thrusts became harder and faster. It was her second rape and she was building towards a devastating climax, surges of primal joy making her cry out as she juddered and writhed under the assault of the sex which was piercing her so ruthlessly.
Suddenly her hair was grabbed and her head pulled painfully far back. She found herself staring up at Davis who regarded her coolly as she undulated and writhed, finally crying out joyfully as she felt her climax break over her and the man’s seed flood into her. Davis didn’t let her go until the man had withdrawn and she moaned again as he left her empty. He nodded thoughtfully. “You’re a whore alright. I wasn’t sure for a while, but you’re a whore right enough,” he said and let her head fall back.
Dazed from her orgasm and petrified to learn how close she had been to disaster she got to her feet and resumed her duties. She felt the semen begin to trickle down her thighs as she served more wine to a table where one of the sisters was sitting. She got a ringing smack on her buttocks from her.
“Wipe yourself you slut. Why d’you think you’ve got an apron?” she said.
Without even thinking about it, Paula opened her legs in the middle of the room and did as she was told, pushing the cloth back between her thighs and wiping it along the groove of her sex, pressing it in hard to soak up the sticky emission. She was acting the part of a complete whore and doing it well, she told herself. She lost count from then on of how many men took her, but was grateful they all wanted her sex rather than her mouth.
Each of the men drove her to
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