Robert Vickers: The Unwilling Stewardess

“Amazing how a tiny little cigarette can create such pain, isn’t it?” asked Remington.

She smelled the smoke from his cigarette, but the stench of her burned flesh was even worse. She gagged and wanted to puke. They didn’t allow her the dignity of doing even that.

Strong hands pulled her back onto her knees. Then she was hoisted into one of the seats. The blonde stewardess almost passed out again from the pain in her ass. The bullet wound, the spanking, the rape and the rest were taking a potent toll on her body.

“What do we do with her now?” asked Keegan.

“I want to fuck her again. But it’s obvious she’s not going to cooperate. She thinks this limp, rag-doll approach is going to keep my cock out of her pussy, I guess. She’s wrong, dead wrong.”

Louise knew better than to argue with the men, now. They would do whatever they wanted to her. But she felt she had to say something.

“I hate you! God is my witness, I’ll get even. I swear I will. I don’t know how or when or where, but I will…” She stopped when she felt the cold barrel of the gun shoved against her cunt, again.

“It’s loaded this time, Blondie,” Remington said in a menacing voice.

“Fuck her, Remington. Go on. I want to watch!”

“He wants to watch,” laughed Remington. “He’s my friend. I can’t turn down a friend, can I, Blondie? Get down the back steps. Come on, I’ll show you the way.”

He lifted her to her feet and spun her around. She stumbled, her legs refusing to hold her up. She had experienced too much to keep going. And yet she felt she had to. She had to show these men that they might be able to rape her and torture her, but they’d never break her. Louise had no idea what it was like to be in a concentration camp, but it couldn’t be much worse than this.

She staggered forward and managed to fall down the stairs. She felt the hot wind gusting around her naked body, sucking out even more of her precious moisture. Left alone out in the desert, she would be dead in nothing flat.

Unseen hands pulled her back up the steps. She felt those same hands undoing the ropes on her wrists — but not for long. Hope flared and was cruelly taken away in a split second. Her hands were retired to the flimsy aluminum railing.

And then her legs were hoisted and similarly tied. She felt the hot air blowing across her tortured snatch. In this spread-eagle position, she was vulnerable again, even more so than she had been before. Before, she could clamp her thighs tightly shut and pray that none of the men could force their cocks into her cunt or asshole. This way, her pussy was widely exposed all the time.

She dangled down, supported only by the ropes on her wrists and ankles. Her strength ebbed and flowed. Worse of all, they had left on the blindfold. She couldn’t see what they were doing.

“Should we sell her to the Arab sheik, there?” asked Keegan. “He digs blondes a lot. Doesn’t have many in his harem.”

She had heard no one come up. They were trying to panic her. They succeeded.

“Nope, he won’t buy unless he sees how good she fucks. Should we let the camel jockey fuck her?”

“Better not,” said Keegan. “Looks like his cock is about ready to rot off from leprosy or something.”

“He won’t take her any other way. He says he fucks her before he pays a single dime. I guess that doesn’t leave us any choice. We got to let him fuck her cunt, not matter what his pecker looks like. Sorry about that, Blondie, but business is business.”

“No, you can’t. Not if you… oh!”

She felt the throbbing tip of a prick shoved hard between her legs. The cock-head bounced off her cunt-lips and went sliding down between her fleshy asscheeks. The pain and joy lancing into her body weren’t to be denied. But was this some diseased Arab sheik? Or were they lying to make her fearful?

She was already scared to death. But the idea of being fucked by someone with a dread venereal disease — or leprosy! — terrified her to the point where she began to sob again.

“No, no, don’t let him, please. I’ll do anything. Don’t let hiiiiim!:

The cock shoved all the way between her pussy-lips and plunged far into her twat. She shuddered under the impact of his body against hers. His crotch ground passionately, stimulating her clit and arousing the sunburned flesh of her pussy-mound so much she almost came.

The pain that had been raging in her body was seductively replaced by pleasure. They gave her pain, then pleasure, only to come back again with more degradation and anguish. She hated them with a vengeance that knew no bounds. And she was totally powerless to do anything to them. They were the ones in control and they could do whatever they wanted to her.

The fucking continued with powerful thrusts all the way up into her juicy twat. She accepted it as a cure-all for the pain already in her body. Being dangled between the railings caused her a considerable amount of pain from the chaffing of her wrists and ankles and the strain it placed on her arms and legs, but the passion building in her loins offset this — surprisingly enough.

“Fuck me, sheik!” she cried out. “Show those hijackers how a real man can fuck a woman!”

The tempo of the fucking increased. The cock drilled hard and fast through her abused flesh and found parts of her cunt that hadn’t been touched by a man’s prick in a long time. Every single square-inch of her pussy throbbed with pleasure. This was the first time since Remington had shown her the gun and forced her to suck him off that she had felt any joy whatsoever.

“Fuck, sheik, fuck me good. Give my pussy everything that the hijackers couldn’t. Make me come. Make me feel good all over!”

She nurtured the faint feels of joy mounting in her belly. The fucking had made her tense up enough so that she felt better now. The bloating from the Scotch enema was about gone. The burning up her ass still stayed with her, but she could ignore it if the pleasure in her pussy build enough.

The woman began flopping up and down, driving her snatch down around the impaling spike of cock. She didn’t doubt that it was one of the hijackers fucking her — probably Remington. But she wanted to come and erase some of the horror in her body and to get back at them.

“No American ever fucked me like this. You’re great, sheik. Give me more of that cock of yours. Pleasure me goooooooood!”

She shivered when she felt her cunt-juices leaking around the thick plug of cock in her pussy and down the insides of her asscheeks. The lubricants soothed her tortured flesh.

And then she came.

It hammered into her body and made her toss about until she thought her arms and legs would be jerked from their sockets. Being hung suspended between the railings wasn’t the best way to fuck, but it relieved the pain she felt whenever her sunburned body touched something hard.

“You lousy fucking bitch!” cried Remington. “You know I’m the one fucking you, not some Arab camel jockey. You stupid cunt!”

He punished her with his prick. He fucked her until she was panting with lust, then he would pull out until she cooled off. Then he would fuck her hard again to the point of needing to come.

The constant unfulfilled feeling mounted inside her until she thought she might go mad from it. She was hornier now than she had even been in her life. The feel of his cock aroused her. When she got to the point of orgasm, he would stop and deny her the ultimate in human pleasure.

But the woman realized this was also having its toll on Remington. He couldn’t keep up the pace for long without shooting his jism.

She was right.

He fucked hard and fast. She felt his prick pulsing hotly, expanding and pressing against her trembling cunt-walls. The turgid cock would erupt in cum any second. Knowing this, she tensed her pussy-muscles to trap him in the hot, clinging confines of her belly. She partially succeeded. He had to pull hard. Only the slick juices allowed him to escape.