Val Marrick - Whipped And Raped

The engine gave a sudden surge and the tires roared as they spun in the dirt.

The car pulled up before the cabin with enough force to send a clattering shower of grit and pebbles onto the porch. A car door slammed.

A moment later the door of the cabin flew open. Sally glanced up. The budding glow of hope went out of her clear blue eyes. She gasped.

There in the doorway, silhouetted against the afternoon brightness, was a once-seen but well remembered figure. The short but voluptuously rounded figure of Estancia Cruz.

The Chicana was dressed in high-heeled black boots and blue jeans which, except for the flared cuffs, were so impossibly tight they seemed to be sprayed onto her lithe hindquarters. Above that she wore a dark-blue knit pullover with three yellow stripes running across the firm roundness of her belly. The material of the pullover clung lovingly to her every curve, flowing outward over a truly impressive pair of fits. Then it swooped back inwards to snuggle her trim waist, and flared again at the bottom to cap her lush hips and ass.

Above the pullover, Estancia Cruz was wearing a look of evil triumph on her darkly pretty face. Her full red-lipped mouth was twisted in a sneer, and black light danced in her eyes.

"Welcome to my little love nest, Querida," she said with apparent friendliness.

But there was something about the way she spoke the Spanish word for "darling" that made Sally go weak inside.

"I can tell by that grunting that Fred is taking a nap," she went on. "So let's have a look at you."

The girl stepped forward. Sally tried to cringe away. Quick as a snake the Chicana's hand darted out and twisted itself in her long blonde hair. "There, there," Estancia said reprovingly. "Don't try to get away from your little Estancia. Or you'll get hurt, chiquita. Comprende?"

Eyes wide, Sally could only nod. Estancia pulled her up until she was half-sitting, holding herself up with one arm.

A long-nailed finger daintily swept astray wisp of blonde hair from Sally's forehead. The touch thrilled the blonde girl in a mysterious way. What was the power this dark girl had? The finger slid down her fine-boned face and trailed off her slightly pointy chin.

Next the lip of the nail touched the hollow in the middle of her collarbone. It traced a line downwards between her small breasts, offered up to her appraising gaze by the parting of the blue robe. The nail swerved to the left and began describing aspiral in the soft flesh of one tit.

Estancia began to push down harder. Sally bit her lower lip. It was beginning to hurt. She remembered Fred's statement about what Estancia planned, and was almost sick. Estancia pressed harder. The enameled nail drew a red line behind it in the pale skin.

"Mmmnmnnnnnhh!" Sally moaned as the sharp nail across the nipple. Estancia smiled. She took the bud of sensitive tit-flesh between finger and thumbnail and began to roll it between them.

Sally's eyes shut and she ground her teeth together. She wouldn't give Estancia the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. She wouldn't! The nails were like knives cutting into her nipple. Sally. was certain they were drawing blood.

Like the blood pounding in her temples and swimming behind her tightly-closed eyelids.

Then Sally realized what Estancia was really doing to her. For despite the searing agony of those razor-like nails Sally's nipple was getting hard and big. Pleasure shot through the stabbing pain in her jug. "Ohhhhhh," Sally moaned, starting to roll her hips.

Estancia's smile broadened. She let go of the nipple, which stood proud and erect, staring at her like a pink-brown eye.

The nail jabbed at the lit again, sliding down the tender underside like an acid-filled pen. Sally's stomach muscles contracted as the nail outlined her belly. Digging in again, Estancia drew the nail to her hip and slanted inward along the fold of skin between thigh and furry crotch.

Plowing a furrow in Sally's skin, Estancia's fingernail crossed the forested mound of the cunt. With mingled fear and anticipation Sally felt the torturing, pleasuring nail nearing the top of her slash. A little love-juice began to tingle and flow in the recesses of her cunt.

The nail reached her pussy, and stabbed. Sally shrieked. She bit her lip, panting like a winded animal. It had hit her clitoris and almost made her brain explode. Estancia was breathing almost as heavily as she.

The finger spread the lips of Sally's twat wide and slipped inside. It corkscrewed up her pussy. The tip of the nail made a burning spiral on the wet slippery walls of the cunt.' "Ohhhh! Oh! Oh! Oh…aaaaah!… ooooooooh!" Animal noises came from Sally's throat. She was torn between ecstasy and agony. Deep down inside, part of her knew that Estancia was playing her like a musical' instrument, and she hated herself for responding to it. But she couldn't help it! The raven-haired beauty was making her feel such sweet pain!

Abruptly the finger was withdrawn from her cunt. She gasped and sobbed with the need of it. Estancia let go of her hair and she fell back limply. Estancia straightened slowly, letting one hand play over her own fits. The other she raised to a shapely noise, sniffed it. Then she put it in her mouth and sucked at it.

"Mmmmm… good!" she said huskily. A coral tongue searched over her full lips, lapping up bits of goodness.

"Prime cunt," Estancia pronounced. "Plus some older cunt juice seasoned with come. Tastes like Carlos'." She looked around. "You can come in now, Carlos," she called. "And you can stop standing in the doorway drooling down your chin, Fred. Get on in here."

Sally turned her head to see Fred, fully dressed and looking rumpled, slouch into the main room. At the same time the decisive tread of Carlos' booted feet thumped in the front door. Both these grown men had waited for the small Chicana's say-so before coming in! It made Sally's lust-clouded mind swim.

"You two borrachos have had your rocks off with our little guest already?"

Estancia asked. Both men nodded, looking at her uneasily. `Well, that's fine," she went on. "But you better have some left for me right now. I'm going to show this little pasty-faced puta thing or two about real fucking!"

In a couple of steps she was beside Fred, dwarfed by his bulk. Her fingers brushed across his belly and cupped his crotch. The heel Of her hand rubbed up and down the bulge in his jeans. Fred's eyes rolled up and his nostrils flared.

He reached for her.

Dancing away lithely, she crossed to Carlos. She flowed into his arms. She undulated against his broad firm body for a minute. Then she was on him, legs wrapped wantonly around his waist, her pussy grinding against his crotch as her tongue sought for his tonsils. In spite of his strength, Carlos staggered as if weak in the knees.

Estancia broke off from the passionate kiss. Her hands had not been idle while her fiery tongue was busy. As she leaned back she peeled the shirt off Carlos' shoulders. His fingers cupped her asscheeks, fondling them through 4he denim of her jeans.

In the blink of an eye Estancia had shucked the pullover off over her head. The body beneath was olive-skinned and sleek as a panther's. Sally stared in amazement at the pair of tits so barely restrained by the lacy black nothing of a brassiere.

On a less vital woman those jugs would have been nothing less than outsized milkbags. But on this living flame of lust they seemed perfect. The size of large cantaloupes, they bobbled scarcely more than Sally's much smaller mounds as Estancia reached behind her back to unfasten the bra.

The catch gave with a snap and the eager fits plopped heavily against Carlos' chest. Her nipples were bulging wine-dark cherries in surprisingly broad expanses of areola. A thin layer of sweat sheened her skin.