Blake Garfield - Halloween in horror

Elaine had never had a baby, but she was certain that this was how it must feel. Every inward plunge seemed certain to rip her cunt apart.

Then when Roger pulled back, and the barbed ends of the prong were forced together and drawn back into her cunt, she felt as though her insides were being pulled out with it again. The drag was incredible, beyond pain or pleasure. But every time the barbed prong tore free of her womb, another orgasm exploded through her captive, struggling body.

"Fucking you good now, aren't I, you big-titted whore!" Roger screamed, almost out of his mind with pleasure and the thought of what he was putting his helpless aunt through. "Tell me how good I'm fucking you, you worthless old fuck-bag! Describe it to me!"

She screeched incoherently, tried to make words form in her cum-flooded mouth. Her cunt clutched madly at Roger's pistoning cock and another orgasm made her tremble and cry, and she tried to get her mouth to work.

"You're fucking me so good!" she whined at last, her voice high and hysterical. "You're not just fucking my pussy, you're fucking my whole body! You're making me cum! You're making me cum and cum and cum!"

"You're womb-fucking the old whore," Peter said with admiration. He turned to the other boys. "He's womb-fucking the bitch!"

Elaine screamed with every new stab of the probe inside her. Her orgasms were flaming out, the pleasure circuits in her brain shutting down one after another as this final overload of savage sex ripped through her. She couldn't believe what Roger was doing to her, couldn't believe that her beaten body could accept such an unnatural violation.

Elaine fell limp against the stocks as her young nephew fucked her helpless pussy. She didn't even move when his cum hosed up through the tube, bypassing her shattered cunt and filling her inner womb. She only shuddered when he pulled the awful tube out of her and fell back away.

"Is she dead?" a boy asked, milking the last of his cum out on her cum-plastered face.

"Fucked out more likely," another boy answered, dribbling the last of his jism onto her back. The cum there was almost two inches thick already.

Elaine was half unconscious, her body broken and exhausted. When the boys unlocked the stocks, she dropped limply into the deep pool of cum that had gathered beneath her.

One by one, the boys left. A few of them beat off on her one more time, or drove their cocks up her cunt or asshole or made her open her mouth so they could fuck her throat. Most of them didn't want to touch the cum-plastered beauty.

Finally she was alone with her nephews once more, lying face-down in a deep pool of tacky, half-dried jism. It was the jism of almost a hundred boys, all spilled on her, all spilled for her.

Then there was another knock on the door. "Right on time," Peter said, glancing at his watch. He, and both of his brothers, were cleaned and dressed. It was almost time for them to go home. "A last little surprise, Aunt Tits. Something to keep you company for the rest of the night."

Elaine trembled. It didn't even seem to matter that someone else was going to see her, fucked half to death and half drowned in an ocean of cock cream. She wasn't even that interested in what the surprise was. Nothing could be worse than what she had already endured.

But she was wrong – just as she had been wrong every time she had thought she had hit bottom during the whole night of disgrace. When she saw what came shambling into the living room behind Peter, she began to wonder if things could keep getting worse forever.

They had brought in a monster to fuck her! Elaine had never believed in monsters, not even as a small child, but she believed in them now. She had never seen a person as horrible in her life.

"Hey, Aunt Bitch," Peter said, leading the monster into the living room. "Say hi to Rufus."

"No!" she whimpered, squinting through the curtain of jism that covered her eyes. "No, oh please, Peter! No! No! No!"

"Say hi to Rufus, you fucking cow!" Roger screamed, kicking her cum-covered ass so hard that pain shot all the way up her spine. "You hurt his fucking feelings and there's no telling what he might do to you."

"Hi, Rufus," she moaned at last, icy shivers of fear spiking through her battered body. "I'm… I'm glad to meet you."

"She's glad to meet anything with a cock," Steve added with a cruel laugh.

"Then she ought to be very happy to meet me," Rufus said, his voice sounding amazingly clear and cultured. "Hi, Elaine. I've heard a lot about you."

He was big, well over six feet tall. His shoulders were so broad that when he walked through the living room doorway he had to turn sideways. His biceps were thicker than Elaine's thighs, his chest was as thick as a tree trunk. His face was hidden by a beard and long, stringy hair. The only part of his face the exhausted redhead could see clearly was his eyes, and they seemed to glow almost red with an evil lust.

His nails were long and filed to razor sharp points. He smiled, and the terrified beauty saw that his teeth were filed to points as well. The rest of his body was as hairless as his face was hairy. Even his cock and balls were as hairless as a baby's.

His body was a bulging package of muscles. Veins that were as thick as jungle vines ran through his chest and thighs and back. Elaine couldn't have circled his chest with both of her arms. She would have barely been able to circle one of his massive, muscular thighs. And dangling between his legs was the hugest muscle of all. The sight of his cock was what made Elaine's chest heave with heart-stopping terror.

His cock dangled limply past his knees. Even limp it was almost as big around as Elaine's ankle. The head was almost the size of a softball. Elaine refused to believe that such a horrid tool could be real. Her mind hysterically insisted that this was just another of her nephews' horrid inventions. Surely they didn't expect her to take that gargantuan prick inside her. It was bigger than her pussyhole.

"Never met a woman who could take it," Rufus said quietly. Elaine couldn't get over how gentle and cultured his voice was. "Never met one sexy enough to get it all the way hard. But that hasn't kept me from looking around and trying it out."

"Remember that old song, Aunt Tits?" Roger asked, leering cruelly. "Forty men tried and forty men died? Well, that isn't even close to the score Rufus has with women."

"I've tried it out real hard," Rufus said quietly, then stepped toward her.

Elaine cried out in terror, tried to pull herself up to her feet and out of the sticky pool of cum. It was impossible. Every move she made sent waves of deadening pain through her exhausted muscles. Knives of pain slashed through her cunt and asshole. Her legs shook from just the exertion of sliding along the floor. Her arms were so sore that she could barely raise them above her head. Bolts of agony shot through her back and sides and stomach.

She fell back limply into the tacky pool of fuck filth. Even if she got up, she knew that she could never escape her nephews. She belonged to them now.

"We've got to go home now, Aunt Tits," Peter called out, and Elaine looked up with horror to see all three boys standing by the door. "But we wanted to make the rest of your Halloween night a gas. After all the shit we've put you through, we knew it was going to take somebody special to get your attention. Rufus wouldn't mind fucking you in a pile of horse shit, and I think you'll agree that he's one special fucker."

"You ought to appreciate this, Aunt Pissbitch," Roger said with a grin, pulling the front door open. "We had to look all over for somebody like this. Finally found him in a side show, showing off what he's got. Almost like your own Halloween monster."