Robert Vickers - The Unwilling Stewardess

Pain lanced at her shoulders and neck. She was tender in her tits and cunt from being sunburned. The strain of staying on tiptoe was worse than if the man had simply strung her up with her feet entirely off the ground. Everything he did humiliated and degraded her. He used her. To him, she was nothing but a cunt to be filled with steely hard prick.

Burning tears of rage and pain ran down her cheeks. She wanted to strike out at him, to hurt him like he was hurting her. The gun resting alongside her head prevented anything so foolish.

He started fucking, bringing his prick out to the point where only the thick purple knob of his prick-tip rested between her cunt-lips — and then slammed all the way back up into her juicy young twat. She shuddered every time he fucked her like this. No rhythm, no finesse, just hard, all-out fucking.

“Hey, this is pretty good, huh?” he asked, his hands reaching around her body to grip at her fleshly asscheeks. She could feel the steely barrel of the pistol in one hand.

If only she could get it. But she wouldn’t dare try now. Not with her hair tied in a hard knot above her head. She might be able to wrest the gun from the hijacker’s grip but she wouldn’t be able to do much after she got it. He would be able to dodge and move. And she didn’t really know how to use a gun.

The tears ran down her cheeks and left sandy tracks. She felt his prick digging around inside her pussy, thrusting and pumping. His pulsating prick filled her with the normal pleasures a cock always did, but the pain throughout her tender, tortured body offset it.

“I love fucking blonde pussy,” he said, his voice grating a little with the exertion of rising on his toes to drive his prick to the hilt in her cunt. “Yeah, I do. Blonde cunt’s always more interesting. And blonde ass ain’t bad either.”

One of his fingers dipped down into the humid crack of her asscheeks. He probed around until he found her asshole. His finger drove in without any lubrication at all.

She gasped at the way he finger-fucked her ass. She knew he was ripping her up inside. It had to be that way. She felt her inner membrane tearing and twisting and moving as his finger drove deeper and deeper into her bowels.

“Shit, baby. I can feel my cock through your guts. This is really fine!”

“I’m dying! I’m on fire inside — and it’s from pain, not lust.”

“You just haven’t got into the spirit of the fucking yet, Blondie. Try, go on and try. This is going to be loads of fun — for me!”

He began fucking her cunt faster, deeper, driving his prick as far into her trembling cunt as he could. She felt herself tightening up with tension. Pain blasted through her brain and made her woozy. She hardly knew what happened around her — to her — anymore.

Even worse, she was reaching the point where she didn’t care. Let him kill her. It would only be less pain for her to endure.

Her head. Her scalp. Her neck. The way her tits had been sunburned. Her pussy-lips, burned and fucked and irritated by the friction of his cock moving so powerfully across them. And that damn finger up her ass. All of this increased the stark pain and sheer agony for the stewardess.

His cock gave her only a little pleasure as it pressed hot and hard against her pussy-walls. His hips blurred with the speed of the fucking. He blasted into her, then he rotated his hips enough to fully appreciate the tightness and heat of her clinging cunt, then he pulled back so slowly she thought he would drag her guts out of her cunt as soon as he left.

And in addition to all this was his damned finger up her ass!

She came.

She hated herself for it, but she had no choice. Her body responded to his prick and the finger fucking — nothing else. But she wasn’t even sure if that was true. She might have been getting more stimulation from all the pain in her body than she cared to admit.

Louise just didn’t know.

The pain and the orgasm kept her too confused to really try to work it all out.

“Love the way you crush down on a fellow prick like that when you come. You really groove on this, don’t you?”

“No, I hate it!” she cried out. “I hate it, I hate you, I hate everything!”

And then she came again. The force of this orgasm was even greater than it had been before. The man’s body had rubbed up against her tits and stimulated them to a fiery, pain-filled hardness. She was a seething mass of agony and it got her off.

She could understand climaxing from the man’s fucking cock. Or even from his finger worming around in her shit-chute. But getting off from the pain lashing her tender body was something she hated.

“Oh, oh, shit!” the man groaned. “This is gonna be a big come from my old cock. I can tell. The way you’re squeezing down on my pecker’s made it get even harder. I feel my balls turning into a pressure cooker. That old jizz’s going to spew out any second.”

He got down to serious fucking. He drilled fast into her pussy now, each stoke perfectly timed to drive him as far into her churning cunt as possible. And when he felt his prick tense for the final time, he fired off the pistol in his hand.

The woman jumped as the sound. And she came when his jism shot out into her cunt. The impact of hot spurt after hot spurt of gooey, creamy cum turned her into a writhing, clawing beast. She fought and moaned and cried out in an odd mixture of pleasure and pain.

The man continued to fire his gun with every single spurt of his big cock. One of the lead bullets creased her ass — and she came as the pain shot into her body.

By the time the man’s prick slipped limp and dripping from her cunt, she was exhausted. Totally drained, emotionally and physically.

Louise wanted to die.

“Don’t leave me here to die,” Louise pleaded. “I can’t stand it!”

“Sure you can, Blondie. Just keep content by thinking how great my cock felt inside your pussy. And it did, you know. It felt damned good. So good I may be back before long. But don’t you go away. And if I find you’ve tried to get yourself down…”

He didn’t have to finish the sentence. He snapped open the cylinder of his revolver and kicked out six empty cartridges, onto the sandy desert floor. From his pocket, he took six more bullets and thrust them one at a time into the empty chambers. Smiling, he made a big production of snapping the cylinder back into the frame of the gun.

“Be seeing you,” he said. “Just like you are. And be glad you’re out of the sun. I might just decide to rope you back to the roof of the car — if you don’t behave yourself.”

She almost fainted from the shock of hearing that threat. She didn’t know if she could endure that or not. Probably not. It would kill her for sure. The blonde stewardess looked at her hands and arms. They had blisters all over them. At least second degree burns from the sun.

She guessed her cunt-lips, pussy-mound and tits were in even worse shape from the short time she’d already spent staked out under the cruelly blazing sun. Another bout of that and she would be covered with third degree burns — and out here in the desert so far from a hospital, that could mean only suffering and eventual death.

“Let me go, please, please!” she begged futilely. “What have I done to deserve this?”

“Beats me,” said Remington, “but it must have been a major sin. Why don’t you just think it over and tell me what it was later? Or maybe you can show me later on. I haven’t found any new and different major sins in a long time. Be seeing you,” he said again and went up the aluminum steps into the cool interior of the plane.

“How’s things in here, Keegan?” he asked, seeing the smaller man still had the others under the muzzle of his gun.