Gregory Mason - The helpless captive

He fell back, exhausted, beside Kathy on the mattress, and lay there next to her for a few moments, eyes closed. The rock 'n roll music had stopped for a few moments and someone was talking, introducing another act maybe. Then he heard Mark say, "Okay, Jim. Now it's my turn."

He rose dizzily, found his pants and shirt, pulled them on, moving away from Kathy who lay back on the bed in an attitude of utter depravity. He caught a glimpse of Art's face, and at first found it hard to recognize him! The man was a tortured, maddened animal, snarling at the leash, ready to kill.

Even if Jim didn't get the dope he'd been promised for diverting the police, at least he'd had a fine piece of ass to chalk up to his youthful experiences.

It had not been an easy task dragging the two microphones up the steep wooded hillside, or finding enough extension cords to stretch that far, but the equipment manager was confident he'd made a fair trade. Using the military tactics he'd learned in Viet Nam, he snuck along close to the ground, crawling on his knees in the lower bushes, one microphone dangling over each shoulder. Nearing the cabin, he circumvented the beaten structure, wondering why in hell's name the young boy wanted to wire the place for sound, then deciding it was not his business to wonder, only to get those microphones stationed outside the door, now open, luckily.

Surreptitiously and soundless as a cat, he edged the microphone closer, closer to the door. The other he placed near the cracked window in the front of the cabin, fastening it with a wild grape vine tied to the rusted pipe. That done, he wiped his hands on his pants, and snuck back to the grounds below.

Had he stayed to listen, he would have heard Mark, now lying on the bed next to Kathy gazing hungrily at the sperm glistening lips of her open cunt. "Put your legs over my shoulders!" the boy commanded imperiously, following Jim's example, seeing how well it had worked. She did, and she felt a new thrill surge through her as he bent his head over her hotly pulsing, still-moist cunt, and placed his hands on her cum-flooded pussy lips.

Carefully, deliberately, he opened them, exposing the coral colored flesh to his lust filled eyes. As his hot breath blew across Kathy's cunt, still dripping from Jim's sperm moments before she writhed in delight, then curled her legs and wriggled her toes with the sudden, exquisite sensation. Mark bent his head still nearer, and then his tongue lashed out, finding the tiny, narrow slit, and began to tease back and forth insistently inside it.

It was so good, Kathy thought again. How could this be bad, when it was so good? The idea puzzled her and so she dismissed it from her mind and lay back, opening her thighs wider to his face and enjoying what was happening to her. Mark slavered over her, his tongue and mouth worming into the warmly quivering little hole between her thighs. It followed the narrow slit from one end to the other, savoring every delicious taste as it advanced. Then Mark retreated and began slowly, exploringly, to lick the entire pubic curl-fringed length once more. He'd only done this once before, and he paused when he reached the tiny bud of her clitoris, not certain if he should stop there or go on.

Kathy thrashed and bucked under his assault on her sensitive little cuntal mound, letting out sharp little screams of pleasure from time to time, that split the silent air like lightning flashes, Mark's tongue flicked in and out between her legs, faster and faster now, making a wet sluicing sound echo through the cabin as the young nakedly writhing woman's heart beat like a hammer and her breath caught in her breasts.

Suddenly, the delicious sucking of her warm, moist pussy stopped, and Kathy uttered a tortured cry of mixed dismay and disappointment. "Don't stop! Oh, God, don't stop! Go on – lick it! Lick it deeper!"

Oh, God! What had happened? What was happening? Why had Mark risen from above her, leaving her lying on the bed, her legs still spread wide, her hungrily churning cunt exposed and waiting for the marvelous licking and sucking of his rough-textured young tongue. Kathy turned, straining to see. Through the fog of drugs that clouded her mind, she somehow understood that everyone was looking at Art, over against the wall. Something had happened to him, she thought. He was white and now he slumped against the wall, collapsing like a punctured tire tube.

Jim poked his inert body with his foot; Art didn't budge. Now he leaned over him, his head bent down, listening to his heart beat. "He's okay," Jim said, straightening up.

Art mumbled something Kathy couldn't decipher, and then lifted his head, threw his shoulders back and gathered all his strength, all his energy as he confronted the young hoodlum. "You'll be sorry for this, you little punk."

"Then watch to see what happens to your hot-cunted little wife next," threatened the blonde boy villanously.

"You wouldn't dare do anything to harm her… I'll… I'll put you all behind bars, you dirty punks!"

"Oh, so that's how you feel about it, narco. Well watch this," Jim spat. "Mark turn her over, give her the old ass fuck."

Mark scratched his head, as if he understood only slowly. Biting into his lower lip, he took a deep breath and turned Kathy over so that she was lying on her stomach.

At first Kathy made no effort to resist. Everything had been so beautiful, she thought. But there was something wrong with Art; he didn't look well. Perhaps he'd been working too hard, Art had a tendency to do that. Not take care of himself, eat too many spicy foods. Her mind wandered again to Art's favorite foods, how he loved Mexican food and beer, anything with chili powder, just as she felt her legs being spread wide, as she felt Mark's tongue search out the tight, tiny hole of her puckered, brown-ringed anus. And then she understood what Jim had said, when was it? So long ago. So long ago as time was measured in this cabin where she seemed to have lived for all eternity.

"Up her ass!" That was what Jim had said.

And up her ass meant – Kathy pondered the matter, trying to visualize it – up her ass meant sodomy! She was to be lewdly sodomized, right here in front of everybody, in front of Art. Kathy's drug befuddled brain whirled again, and even through the haze bits and pieces of things she had heard came back to her. They couldn't do that to her! It wasn't legal. Art would never permit them to do that to her! She believed in law and order just as Art did, and she had to fight against such outrageous things because Art expected her to. And then she felt someone kissing the lovely rounded orbs of her buttocks, nipping at them, flicking his tongue against them. Furiously she kicked her legs, thrashing about to rid herself of this unwanted intrusion. But Jim came to Mark's rescue and held her ankles and pinned them down to the mattress.

"Spread you legs," he ordered in a voice of steel.

Kathy did as she was told, opening them until she was afraid they wouldn't spread any further. "Like that?" she gasped.

"Not like that," Jim said, giving her a swift slap on her firmly rounded young buttocks, leaving a red, angry print of his hand on them. Kathy winced and then screamed aloud as Jim took her by the thighs and forced her legs farther apart. She gasped again as Mark's finger teased momentarily, then wormed its way deep into the little puckered orifice of her anus. In and out it ground, in and out, and Kathy felt a searing pressure that moments later, when her rectal walls had adjusted turned to a dull, but strangely soothing pleasure, bringing an aching longing in her, a weird masochistic desire she knew in her heart to be wicked and evil. But she knew she could never resist, not when she felt such excitement and joy and sheer ecstasy in the act.