Val Marrick - Whipped And Raped

Sally opened her mouth to say noooo! It was a mistake. Fred lunged like an expert fencer. His prick went into her mouth to the hilt.

Rankness overcame Sally. Her stomach churned in horror. God, it's so foul – after it's been in her ass! Her mind recoiled from it.

The sadist was excited by her revulsion. He face-fucked her as madly as he had butt-fucked Estancia. He watched her blue eyes rolling, felt her body thrashing as she tried to get away from the indignity he was inflicting on her. Her stifled moans and cries of outrage filtered teasingly around his dick.

Over everything rang the mad, cruel laughter of Estancia Cruz. The blonde slut had seduced her brother. Her Ricky, her private property. She'd taken his lovely, lovely cock into her sloppy mouth, into her slimy twat. Estancia was paying her back now for trying to steal her Ricky. And how sweet revenge tasted!

In a mercifully short time Fred shot off another wad of jism. He had been so turned on by fucking Estancia's incredible ass that his prick had stayed stiff after he'd come that time. And now Sally was fighting and suffering so delightfully he was unable to hold back his climax for long. There wasn't a lot of it this time. It was thinner than his other spews-had been, and far from being as rich and creamy as the yield of Carlos' prick. But it pushed Sally over the edge of nausea.

When the sexually-sated sadist pulled his drooping cock from her face, Sally collapsed on her side. She retched spasmodically. Nothing came up, since she hadn't eaten since sometime the day before – a million years ago. Then, exhausted, she fell onto her face limply, with Estancia's crowing ringing in her ears. The walls closed in on her, and her mind went blank.

Sally tossed her head in her sleep. Ugly visions chased each other across her sleep. She was dreaming. She was having nightmares.

Fitfully, she crumpled the pillow under her head. Half-awake, she tried to remember the dreams that had been troubling her. The worst was about her being kidnapped, carried off to a mountain cabin where she was humiliated and sexually abused. There were people in the dream – the two kidnappers, and the person behind it all. A lovely girl with the face and body of an angel and the heart of a fiend. Estancia. Ricky's sister.

But it was all a dream. Sally threw out one arm in a yawn.

Something stopped the arm in mid-air.

Surprised, Sally forced one eye open.

There was a rope tied around her wrist. It led off out of sight past her head.

Her eyes followed it. She saw she was lying on an old four-poster bed. The other end of the rope was tied securely to one of the posts. A quick experiment confirmed her horrified suspicion. The other arm was tied as well to the other post at the head of the bed.

She snapped fully awake. Her heart sank. She wasn't familiar with the bedroom, but the smell of wood smoke and the glimpse through the one window of a pine forest lit by the dying rays of the setting sun told her where she was.

In the cabin where Fred and Carlos had brought her.

For Estancia's revenge.

It hadn't been a dream after all. It had been real.

Sally Canavan rolled over on her face. The cool clean feeling of the sheets around her naked body mocked her. Her long slim legs moved freely under the covers. Sally wasn't encouraged. She knew better than that now. Estancia's only purpose was exacting an excruciating and humiliating revenge.

Hopelessly, heart-brokenly, Sally began to cry.

When the door of the bedroom opened Sally had stopped crying. She lay on her stomach in an apathetic stupor, her arms crossed above her head.

"Asleep?" came the familiar voice of Estancia Cruz. "Wake up now, babe. I got someone for you to meet."

Sally was unwilling to obey. But she had learned that it would be a mistake to try to disobey her captors. She rolled over and looked dully at the door.

Estancia stood there, dressed again in the clothes she had worn when she came to the cabin. Beside her stood another woman. She was taller than Estancia, with close-cropped auburn hair. Her face was pretty, though her jaw seemed a bit muscular to Sally.

"This here is Terry," Estancia said. "She's a good friend of mine. Terry, this is Sally. She's my guest for a few days." The short black-haired girl laughed at this. Terry's eyes roved over the curves of Sally's body where they were displayed in outline by the sheets. Her eyes were bright emerald green, and they glittered as though with a life of their own.

"The guys say little Sally gives pretty good head," Estancia continued. "That's on men, though. I haven't found out what she's like when she's got a cunt in her mouth instead of a cock."

Never taking her eyes from Sally, Terry ran her tongue over her full lips.

"I thought I'd bring you up here, get your, uh, expert opinion on that,"

Estancia said.

Smiling broadly, Terry crossed to the bedside. Sally shrank back. Terry caught her in an unexpectedly strong grip, drew Sally's lips to hers.

Sally tried to turn her head away. Strong but gentle hands took hold of her face, held her still as Terry's mouth crushed hers. The short-haired woman's strong tongue forced Sally's lips apart, drove between her teeth and probed the dark recesses of the girl's mouth.

When Terry broke off the soul-searing kiss and released the smaller girl, Sally fell back like a limp washrag. She turned her head away. But her body was heaving with reaction. Forbidden tinglings stirred in her loins.

Estancia was degrading her again both in obvious and subtle ways. She knew Terry was a lesbian. She knew Terry-with help, of course, from Estancia's two pet muscle-men-was going to ravish her, to force her to perform forbidden sex acts with another woman. But Terry was not just another hard-lipped dyke. In spite of herself, Sally was panting from just that kiss. The auburn-haired woman was an incredibly skilled lover.

Before this was finished, Sally knew, she would be enjoying her violation by Terry, actually being for more. And loathing herself all the while. And that was another part of Estancia's "punishment".

While the young blonde lay with her face to the wall, Terry was efficiently stripping off her clothes. Under her mannish outer clothes, she wore a surprisingly frilly pair of red lace panties and matching brassiere. Strands of cunt hair the color of red wine poked through the mesh of the panties stretched taut over her rich pussy mound. And her growing excitement was obvious from the way hardening nipples were pushing out the fabric of her bra.

Reaching behind, Terry undid her bra and let it fall. She had good fits. They were big, but floppier than Estancia's equally impressive boobs. Nipples the size and color of cherries jiggled at the end of each, standing out in a round patch of ruddy skin.

The huge jugs bobbled wildly as Terry stripped the red panties off down her firmly muscled legs. Sally was watching now, from the corner of her eye. She saw that the woman had pure white skin – not the paleness of sickness, but a healthy, glowing color like pure milk. She also saw that she was extremely muscular. A little too much so for real beauty, with big biceps. Nevertheless, Sally felt a twinge of admiration for the woman's vitality and animal-like good looks.

The wide bed bounced as Terry climbed up onto it. She twitched the sheets down to expose the gleaming length of Sally's desirable young body.

"Nice," she said, wetting her lips. "She's sooo young and firm – and that's the tastiest looking little twat I've seen in ages, honey-cunt. All covered with shiny gold down." Sally squirmed uncomfortably under her lusting gaze. The ropes were beginning to rub her wrists too much.

"And look at those thighs. Slender but juicy. And such a nice little tummy – and those delightful budding tits. I'd just love to get my mouth on you, honey!"