Duncan Fox - Spread wide and tied

"Awww," she moaned ecstatically as she was skewered by the towering cock.

The man screwing her gripped her waist and said something softly to the men controlling her. She rose a few inches and his dick slid out of her. Then he began to fuck her, to thrust his prick up into her streaming, gaping pussy. She soared to a raging, towering orgasm as his prick pistoned in her spasming cunt. She was nearly oblivious to his orgasm, to the hosing of her insides with sperm. Then he was gone, sliding out from under her. She swung like a pendulum as cum dripped slowly from her twat.

On an order from the next man, she was lowered nearly to the floor. He didn't tell them to stop until her knees were brushing the slick wood. His cock was right in line with her mouth! The sight of his jutting tool, a shining drop of arousal hanging from its tip, made her mouth and her pussy water. Knowing what was expected of her, she licked out, managed to barely brush his cock. She felt his juices film her tongue.

Then he eased his cock between her lips, and steadied her by gripping the shaft she was tied to. She felt his cock slide farther and farther into her mouth. Her gullet spasmed as she swallowed the waves of spit the invasion triggered. She stroked his pecker with her tongue as he fucked himself on her face by simply swinging her on the end of the chain.

She couldn't believe the sexual pleasure that was raging through her. This was her fate, her goal, her future: to be a helpless plaything. The ropes cutting into her body increased her already monumental lust. She wasn't able any more to separate one cumming from another. They blended together into a single flaring haze of unbelievable rapture.

The cock in her mouth began to spurt. Desperately, she tried to swallow the creamy gobs that were hosing her tongue and throat. He let her capture only the first few globs, then yanked his prick out of her gaping maw. She felt sperm spattering her cheeks and nose, pattering down on the protruding masses of her tits. The unexpected dousing made her lust rage even higher. He wiped his still-drizzling dick on her eyelids, her cheeks, and her nose. He left her whole face sticky and crusty with jizz.

As she hung there, Clara had the feeling she was being slowly pinched to a pulp by the harsh windings around her body. Her legs were on fire from being folded back for so long. The center of her spine felt like it had been rubbed raw by the wooden post. Her shoulders felt like they were being dislocated.

The lust that raged on inside her left her shattered and feeble.

Then, Wil appeared in front of her with a knife in his hand. She thought for a moment that he was so disgusted by what she had become, that he was going to kill her. The idea terrified her, and increased her pleasure. It would be the ultimate experience to feel that razor-sharp blade cut into her.

He severed the rope holding her ankles. The pain when she unfolded her legs were unbearable. She forced her feet under her body so she could take a little of the weight off her chest. She looked over at Lois, and saw that she, too, had the use of her feet again. It was obvious that the big-breasted blonde had received basically the same treatment Clara had. Lois' finely-fuzzed pussy was matted with cum. Globs of semen streaked her face and tits.

Clara swayed woozily. She was still bound to the post, but was standing after what seemed like hours. Then the coils holding her to the four by four were cut, and the stake was drawn out. She stood there before the watching people. Her hands were still bound behind her. Her naked, cum spattered breasts thrust out boldly.

Wil appeared in front of her. His expression gave her the creeps, made her guts simmer. His domination of her was complete. She loved his ropes, the humiliation and helplessness. He could do anything he wanted with her. And they both knew it.

"Come on," Grant ordered. Clara and Lois were escorted to a low platform.

A small hibachi stood on a metal table in front of an open window. A small fan drew the smoke out of the room. The charcoal plowed dully through the powdery white ashes. Two wooden handled steel rods nestled in the coals. The ends were buried in the glowing embers.

"Lois first," Grant ordered. He looked at her. There was fear and unbelievable lust in her eyes. She was staring at the coals as if hypnotized. "Are you going to scream?" he asked.

Lois shook her head.

"What's happening?" Clara asked fearfully, glancing at Wil for reassurance.

"Watch," he answered. "So you can brace yourself for it. I'll be very unhappy if you have to be gagged."

Clara looked back at Lois, and shuddered. Lois' escorts had trapped her upper arms and her legs, spread her open and bent her backwards slightly. A black blindfold had been tied over her eyes.

"It's so you two will never forget who you belong to," Wil told Clara. Fear sweat was trickling from her armpits.

Grant took one of the steel rods from the bed of coals, and eyed the glowing tip. It was a branding iron! Heat waves shimmered off the orange letters.

Lois writhed against the hands gripping her, then relaxed. Her head twisted as if she was trying to see through the blindfold. Clara's guts knotted tighter and tighter as Grant moved toward his helpless woman. Everyone was around the platform, watching hungrily. Clara noticed that all the men had monster hard-ons. The women were licking their lips in anticipation.

Grant moved the glowing branding iron within an inch of Lois' straining gut, down low, near her pussy. From the way she stiffened, it was obvious she could feel the heat. She sucked in a desperate breath, and braced herself against the anticipated pain.

Her teeth clamped down on a thick leather strap. Her nostrils flared as she exhaled and inhaled quickly.

Clara stared, fascinated. She was horrified, terrified and unbelievably aroused by the sight. Grant thrust, held the branding iron against his woman. There was a sickening, sizzling hiss, and the stink of burning flesh. Smoke burled up from where Grant was still holding the branding iron against Lois' pale flesh. She fought the men gripping her, but it was useless. Her head tossed and turned and the cords in her throat stood out as she sank her teeth into the leather bit.

It seemed like the iron was going to burn clear through her. Grant held the searing metal against her gut for what seemed hours. For hours Lois fought the urge to scream in agony as Grant's initials were burned into her belly. Finally, when the branding iron was removed, she gave a gut-wrenching moan.

The blindfold was ripped off her eyes, and someone smeared salve on the charred letters. Lois glanced down at the "GP" and smiled tenderly at Grant.

Then Clara felt her arms being grabbed, and her legs being caught and dragged apart, and shot a look of stark terror at Wil. Terror, and then love, because she wanted to belong to him, wanted the visible symbol of her love burned indelibly into her flesh.

"No gag," she assured him. "Just the bit."

"And the blindfold," Wil said, waving the black cloth.

Clara bit back her protest. She was Wil's to command. The blindfold was obviously part of the terror, part of the symbolic subservience.

He slipped the black cloth over her eyes, shut out her view of the brazier and the branding iron. Her terror rose. So did her lust. She shuddered in the grip of the men holding her. She waited, listened, heard the soft rustle and clink of the coals as Wil took the red hot iron out of the fire.

Then there was silence. Something brushed her lips. She opened her mouth, and the thick leather strap was slipped between her teeth. It was still wet.

Clara clamped her jaw on it, hard. Where was Wil? Why was it taking so long? She turned her head, and listened. She tried to see out under the blindfold, but couldn't. The room was silent and waiting. Where was he going to brand her? She hoped it would be in the same place as Lois, where anyone thinking of using her pussy would see it.