Part Two
by soleil (c) (sonsoleil@hotmail.com)
The next day dawned bright and sunny, contrasting sharply with the dark despair
the prisoners felt, still captive in the stony hut. They'd been thrown a few
threadbare blankets the night before and Sarah had wrapped hers around her
eagerly, desperate to cover her nudity and the shameful evidence of her assault.
She awoke to the nudge of a boot in her ribs. Looking up, her eyes focused on
the leader of the kidnappers.
"Get up, bitch," he ordered.
Unsteadily, Sarah stumbled to her feet. Every muscle in her body ached.
"Drop the blanket."
Compliant now, Sarah did as she was told. Slowly, she let the blanket slide to
the floor and she was naked once again. There were gasps of shock from her
companions as the extent of her assault became clear. Whistling softly, the
kidnapper drew his gun and traced the bruises flaring angrily on Sarah's pale
skin. Visible finger marks marked the creamy flesh of her breasts and there were
vivid bruises on her cheek where she'd been slapped. The skin of her knees and
the palms of her hands were grazed and torn from when she'd been forced to kneel
as he fucked her. Her thighs were streaked with dried semen.
"Look at you, you dirty slut. You're a fucking mess. What are you?"
Unsure of what to say, Sarah didn't respond.
Pressing the butt of the gun into the bruises on her breast, he snapped, "Answer
me, I'm waiting."
"Uh, I'm a mess," she replied hesitantly, sure that wasn't the right answer.
"What else?"
Realization dawned on Sarah. "Umm, I'm a dirty slut," she said, her face red as
she spoke the words.
Jamming the gun back in his pants, his hand moved lightening fast as he grabbed
a handful of Sarah's hair, pulling her closer to him. His lips close to her ear,
he said, "When you speak to me, you'll address me as Sir. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Sir," Sarah whispered, humiliated.
"So, we'll start again. What are you? Nice and loud, I want everyone to hear
you," he grinned.
"I'm a dirty slut, Sir. I'm a mess, Sir."
"Yes, you are," he agreed, releasing Sarah's hair. "In fact, you're such a
dirty, messy little slut I'm gonna allow you to clean up a little. Isn't that
kind of me?"
"Yes, Sir," said Sarah instantly, though privately she thought he was the
furthermost thing from kind she'd ever known.
Turning to the others, the leader told one of his buddies to watch Sarah's
companions. Motioning to the other, he said, "You and me are gonna take this
bitch down to the beach so she can clean up."
Sarah's ears pricked up. They were going down to the beach? Maybe someone would
see them, and they'd be rescued. Or, perhaps she could escape. She was a strong
swimmer - perhaps she could get free that way.
Slowly, the little group picked their way through the jungle in single file. It
was difficult going - Sarah's hands were bound behind her back once more and
every so often, the man bringing up the rear pushed her along as she dropped
pace. Sarah had no clothes, of course; they'd been cut off her last night. But
she'd been permitted to wear her sandals, though they were flimsy and afforded
her little protection. But finally they emerged from the dark greenery, and
Sarah reveled in the feeling of the sun on her face.
Releasing her hands, S said, " Don't even think about trying to escape. You try
anything stupid, and I'll kill you. Understood?"
Sarah believed him. "Yes, Sir."
She watched as S stripped his shirt off and bent to untie his boots. He left his
pants on. Then, ordering his companion to keep look-out on the beach, he pushed
Sarah toward the water. "Get in and wash yourself," he snapped.
Sarah walked into the ocean, sighing as she felt the cool water wash over her.
Then, she winced as the salt stung her cuts and grazes - she really was a mess,
she thought. Gingerly, Sarah began washing off the dried blood that stained her
body. S was right beside her, watching her like a hawk, never letting her too
far from his reach.
"Have you washed your cunt, slut?" asked S, softly.
"Uh... yes Sir," said Sarah, blushing.
"Really? I wonder whether you've done a good job. I wonder whether it's fit for
use. Get out, and lie on the shoreline. I want to inspect you. "
Fit for use? Sarah thought. What did that mean? Surely he wasn't going to fuck
her again; she'd behaved and obeyed all his commands. Nervously, she waded out
of the water into the shallows and lay as instructed on her back on the wet
sand, the tide just washing over her bare feet.
"Soles of your feet together, bitch," he ordered, getting out of the water
himself. Sarah obeyed immediately, watching his handsome face harden as he raked
his eyes over her. In this position, her legs were spread wide enough so he
could see her naked, wet pussy - but it wasn't good enough for him.
"Spread your cunt open with your hands. I want to see everything."
Humiliated, Sarah reached down and opened herself to him, tears gathering in her
eyes as she did so. He squatted down at the base of her feet for a closer look.
"How the fuck am I supposed to see if you've cleaned yourself to my satisfaction
with all that fucking hair in the way?"
Looking up, he called to his mate. "Get my knife, would you?"
His companion hurried to do his bidding, leering at Sarah as he passed the knife
over. The sun glinted wickedly off the sharp blade, and Sarah shivered in fear.
What was he going to do?
"Lie still," he said, resting the blade of the knife against the lips of her
pussy. "I'd hate to cut you, it will only make it more painful for you when I
fuck you again."
Sarah closed her eyes tightly as the knife slid over her cunt, razoring through
her pubic hair like it was butter. He flicked the knife over her lips with
practiced ease, grazing her delicate skin lightly but never once slicing into
her. Finally, after what seemed an age, the job was completed to his
satisfaction. "That's more like it," he said, leaning back on his haunches to
admire his work. "Now I can see whether you're indeed fit for use."
Using his thumbs, he spread Sarah's cunt so she was open and gaping. Then,
telling her to hold herself open for him, she gasped as he slid two fingers
inside her to the knuckles. "Feel good, slut?" he asked, grinning at her.
Sarah didn't answer.
"I said, does it feel good?" he snapped, forcing his fingers even deeper inside
her so the base of his hand met her cunt.
"No, Sir," groaned Sarah, because it didn't feel good to be fingered against her
will on a beach by a man she didn't know, and in front of a man she didn't know.
He withdrew his fingers suddenly, and Sarah whimpered with relief. Was he going
to stop?
"Doesn't feel good, huh?" he smirked. "We'll see how you like this, then. Hold
your cunt open. Wide open, bitch. "
Wetting his hand in the water, he worked three of his fingers into Sarah's cunt,
twisting them as he did so. "Oh, please don't," begged Sarah, as she felt the
walls of her pussy separating to accept the offending intruders. She was still
sore from last night, and the salt water on his hand exacerbated her pain.
Laughing cruelly, he worked a fourth finger into her cunt, and Sarah cried out
as his hand invaded and filled her. "Look at me, bitch," he hissed, as his
fingers moved inside her, violating her.
Sarah raised her head and looked at him, fear in her eyes. "Do want me to stop?"
he asked, his blue eyes cold and hard as they bored into hers.
Sarah nodded, dazed.
"Then beg me to stop."
"Please Sir, please let me go," Sarah begged, her voice tinged with desperation.
"Please, Sir, you're hurting me - please stop!"
"Not good enough," sneered S. "I guess you don't want me to stop after all, huh?
I reckon you're enjoying this. In fact, given you're such a slut, I think you're
fucking loving it."
He moved his fingers out of her slowly, and Sarah thought maybe he was going to
stop. But she was wrong. He was just repositioning his hand. Tucking his thumb
into the palm of his hand, he slid his fingers back into her cunt, this time
including his thumb. Stars danced in front of Sarah's eyes as his large hand
filled her - what she thought was pain moments ago she now recognised as mere
discomfort. For this was pain, he was trying to work his whole hand into her
tight cunt and she begged him not to.
"Shut up, bitch. I don't want to hear a fucking word, not even a whimper, out of
you. I'm gonna fist you here on this fucking beach, and there's nothing you can
say or do that'll make me change my mind. If you piss me off, I won't be as
gentle about it as I have been so far, either. Are we clear? Are we?" And he
twisted his hand inside Sarah to add weight to his words.
"Yes Sir," cried Sarah, helplessly. What could she do? He continued working his
hand inside her, but it was difficult. Her cunt was tight and unused to such
penetration. He met firm resistance as the bridge of his hand sank into her but
he pressed on regardless, turning his wrist as he pushed his hand deeper and
deeper into her pussy. "Ohhh..." groaned Sarah as the bridge finally slipped
inside her; he'd done it, she realised with shock. His hand was buried inside
her, up to his wrist.
"Finger your clit for me," he ordered, opening and closing his fist almost
imperceptibly inside her cunt.
Sarah thought he'd gone mad. He wanted her to masturbate for him, here on the
beach with his fist in her cunt? This was worse than when he made her beg him to
fuck her in front of everyone last night. But she dared not disobey, so she
moved her fingers down to her clit, grazing the top of the hand that was
violating her so brutally as she did so.
"Rub it, bitch," he snapped, moving his hand inside her more roughly.
Sarah obeyed, even though she was nowhere near aroused. Would she have to
pretend to come? Or did he really think she'd be able to?
"Look at you," he laughed, "legs spread, fist in your cunt, rubbing your clit.
Fuck, I'm gonna have some fun with you when we get back to the hut later on. I
might even give you my friends this time."
He stopped moving his hand, and gazed at her. "What are you?" he asked quietly.
"A slut, Sir," choked Sarah, her fingers still working busily on her clit.
"Yes," he agreed. "Yes, you're definitely a slut. I don't normally waste my time
and attentions on women like you, I think you should thank me."
What happened next surprised them both. As Sarah thanked her captor for fucking
her with his hand, her orgasm exploded, her pussy muscles clenching and
unclenching tightly around his invading hand. "Thank you Sir," she gasped, hips
rocking as she came violently. Then, her head snapped violently to one side as
he delivered a stinging slap to her face with his free hand.
"Next time you come, slut, you fucking ask me for permission." He wrenched his
fist from her body, leaving her crying in the sand, her cunt open and used. "Get
the fuck up, we're going back."
