Paul Gable - Aunt Sharon enslaved

Diane strangled on her own sobs, her breath driven out by her cum. The bright air around her darkened, and she dragging herself forward, trying to get away from the terrifying power of her own climax. Mud caked her tits and her pussy as she struggled back to the fence pole.

"Come on, baby, come on!"

She opened her lids wide, looking around her while her heart began to beat wildly. Moving her arms, the girl realized she could hardly raise them. It was impossible to push them away from her sides. When the girl tried to jerk her head up, she felt her chin bang against a wooden wall. Buried alive! Billy had buried her alive!

"No!"

Diane whispered out the word, trying to regain control of herself. Even Billy wouldn't have done such a sick, deadly thing. He wanted pleasure from her, and he couldn't get much from a dirty corpse. Still, Diane had to realize she was in some sort of box, some sort of coffin and there was no light and little air. She had to calm down or she would surely use up what little oxygen there was.

Perspiration broke out over her flesh, slicking down her skin. She tried raising her knees and found them rubbing up against the same wooden barrier her head had. She had been dropped into a pine box, the lid sealed tight. About to scream out for help, Diane heard movement to one side of the box. She lay still, minimizing her breaths, curling and uncurling her fingers as she waited for the next move.

The needle against her windpipe for a moment, twisting against the spasming flesh before withdrawing. Diane sank back in a pool of cold sweat, breathing heavily, her eyes round with fear and pain.

There was coughing outside. Then another scraping sound caught Diane's attention. This time two needles were inching their way over her tits, sliding down. She could see the faint blue/white electrical glow over the length of the silver probes as they worked their way toward her nipples. Diane gasped, her breathing growing hard and raspy, her chest rising and falling as she looked at the approaching needles.

No! No! This was horrid, beyond what she could have possibly imagined! She watched the steady advance of the probes. She tried to flatten herself against the coffin. But that was impossible. In a moment the probes were pushing against her nipples, the current sparking into the nubs and making her body jerk and twitch against the restraining sides of the coffin. Again and again Diane yammered, screams tearing from her throat while her nipples seemed to be frying!

The needles twisted around and around, bluish sparks singeing the pink injured flesh.

Diane shrieked, smashing her whitened knuckles against the coffin's sides.

Once again the needles retreated. The girl sank into a stupor, but with her senses still alive to the slightest sound outside the sealed coffin. There was muffled laughter. Then the scraping sounds began once more, this time between her legs. Diane knew instinctively this would be the last assault on her.

She screamed even before the needles touched her, jerking and rolling from side to side while the probes slipped up against her clit. Three of them picked her cunt. It was as if someone had charged her entire body with current.

Her bones throbbed, her spine arching while her shoulderblades beat wildly against the coffin's back. Every muscle in Diane's body tensed and bulged against her sweaty flesh while she shivered as if in a fit. The current was burning into her cunt, making the tiny muscles knot up and itch while the pointy end of the needles poked and pricked continually at her musky, swollen cunt-meat.

Again and again Diane was assaulted by mini orgasms, one rushing atop the other, each one making her catch her breath. She thought she would surely die gasping for oxygen in the fetid coffin as her climaxes exploded.

More needles! They punctured her cunt-lips, one of the sharp probes lancing her clit. The searing, dizzying delight and agony made her body twist and shiver even more than before. Her entire mind was focused on her cunt, on the way her pussy was tightening, opening, then tightening again while the needles poked and pricked their way up and down her jagged fuck-slit.

Billy was digging them deeper, pushing the needles harder into her flesh while Diane gnashed her teeth. She bawled and begged for the agony to stop, yet she prayed at the same time for this to keep going on forever. She couldn't believe anything like this could be so awful, or so wonderful. Oh, oh, oh, if only he would fuck her! The pig pen, the spraying, and now the coffin had only worked the teen up more and more. She had to have something human, something warm and thick and stiff rushing through her pussy to make her feel whole once more.

And while another climax rushed through her body, Diane heard the top of the coffin being pried off. A rush of cool air washed over her sweaty, hot flesh while light blinded the teen.

Billy stood there, watching her roll her hips lasciviously from side to side. If only she could control herself. If only she could defy her cousin once, just once! But that was impossible.

Billy watched her, looking back at the small generator that had electrified the needles. He switched off the machine, then reached down and lifted her from the coffin. Diane sagged heavily against him. Clinging to him, and sobbed, so hot she thought she would burn up.

"What do you want?" she cried, hugging him, and yet wanting to run from him.

"To see you and your old lady in action together. A mother/daughter team," Billy said, carrying her away from the coffin. "And you know what? I'm gonna get it."

Sharon was worried sick about her daughter. It was late. Helen had muttered something about not worrying since the children were seen wandering off together. But that was exactly worried Sharon. Something was up. She stood hesitantly in the living room, staring at the empty fireplace and wondering if Billy were hurting Diane.

She tightened one hand against her wrist as if she could still feel the ropes binding her on the dew-damp grass.

Stopping a few feet from the building, she clutched her fingers at her throat. Did she have the courage to face Billy?

She had to find out. Squaring her shoulders, Sharon marched forward, clenching her fingers into two fists as she approached the large barn. There were sounds coming from inside. It sounded like a conversation, but Sharon couldn't make out the exact words. She was certain it was Billy's voice. Carefully she curled her fingers around the barn door and pulled. It was open!

Stepping inside, Sharon let the door thud closed behind her. There were small partitions in front of her, makeshift walls that prevented her from having a direct line-of-sight down the center corridor of the barn. How well she knew this place? Her cunt puckered as she remembered what had happened to her in there. Frightened but determined, Sharon pushed on, stepping over the soft hay and moving around the first partition.

"Oh my God!"

Sharon stopped dead in her tracks, bringing one hand up to her mouth and gnawing on her whitened knuckles. Her heart stopped while an incredible sadness settled over her heart.

There against one tail post was her daughter, stripped naked, tell-tale bruise marks all over her body. Diane's head was down, her long hair curtaining her face. She seemed asleep, her chest rising and falling regularly. She was tightly bound, rope pressing into her flesh and leaving white marks where it held. Sharon looked around, her eyes darting about the barn. No Billy. He must have left for the moment! Slinking the stupor and surprise from her mind, Sharon rushed forward, cupping her daughter's chin in her hand and shaking her awake.

"Diane! For God's sake, wake up! I'm going to get you out of this," Sharon whispered hoarsely, looking about her nervously. Her fingers fluttered around the rough hemp, tugging and pulling at the knots while Diane roused herself from her faint.