The hunt girls
1 was also aware of their feelings and when the next series of shots were taken he left the banner lying on our laps at first as all the guys were offered a chance to come up to the saddles and suck on any vacant nipple they could find. The camera girls were shooting that as well, all the time it was happening. I don’t know how many snaps they took of us, no more than I can remember exactly how many mouths I had chewing and licking and biting me as I hung on desperately to the saddle pegs. I do know that by the time it was over I was cracking a huge wet and as ready for a fuck as any of the guys. Sore in the teats and hot in the saddle was my situation. Distracting as the attention was, I’d glanced over to the other two girls several times to see how they were coping.
Sandra’s reaction was a surprise. After she’d been double sucked a few times she was giggling like a drunken tart. As for Melissa, she sounded like a cow that badly needed milking as she bounced up and down on her saddle and the hand squeezed in between it and her. She looked over at me and gave a kind of ‘what-the-hell-else-can-we-do’ look. I’d never seen her eyes so bright — or her face so flushed either.
But still it was a methodical business, holding up the banner again with our tits on show like store window dummies, and then staying in that position as 1 came along the line with a pocket knife and slashed at the sides of our panties. Then the rest of the guys crowded around again, squeezing and sucking every tit on offer and pulling the scraps of material out from underneath us so we were effectively as naked as 1 had promised we’d be: two of the tallest guys amused themselves by gagging us with our own panties.
Well, almost. They switched them around first. It was Sandra’s knickers I got fastened between my teeth, she got Melissa’s and Melissa found her mouth full of mine. But at least nobody asked me to smile about it. This was the last pose with the banner, the gang eager to start getting some real mileage out of us now. There was one last warm up lap to go through now, and it was one I dreaded, when they used the riding crops on us. What made it so bad was that the cameras and light were turned around to face the table and then one of the girls left her camera and took one of our crops — mine. In fact it was 1 who took it off my wrist and the way the girl took it from his hand was as if she was accepting a school prize. And then 1 pointed at me.
“Her first.”
The guys surged around the saddle, lifting me off the and holding me up on my unsteady feet. At last the bra was finally pulled over my arms and thrown aside, busy fingers tweaking me all over and chuckles all around as I was pushed towards the table. Nobody had touched the panties tied between my teeth and I had to keep snorting through my nose as everybody played with me. Every bout of sex I’d had before had been as mild as milk compared to this experience. Stark naked, I had to walk towards the table and the girl waiting with my crop in her hand. At least I tried to walk as proudly as I could, showing off everything I had to offer and hoping the guys would push the girl aside in their eagerness to have me. It seemed that might happen because already the overalls were being stripped off — but it made no immediate difference to my fate. I was made to bend over the table again, facing a camera and the girl using it. The other one laid the riding crop across my bum again and again as hard as she could.
It hurt — it hurt about as much as anything I could remember. She had a hellish strong arm and before it tired out every stroke had me yelping and drooling around the gag. Apart from the noise I was making everything else seemed to be quiet, so quiet I could hear one of our horses kicking impatiently against the loose box walls, protesting at being kept inside on such a fine day. I knew it was a fine day outside because I could see dust motes floating in the sunlight coming through a overhead skylight. But it was a bad day inside and getting worse. Then, thank God, I felt a strong male hand stroking my cunt. Instantly I pushed myself back against it and wriggled my bottom around to show them all how eager I was to be fucked instead of flogged.
“Take the gag off her,” I heard 1’s voice say, and gasped with relief as it was undone. At that moment I felt incredibly grateful for his mercy, as though he’d rescued me, instead of being the one responsible for all the pain and humiliation in the first place.
“OK, Kate, now it’s your turn to do the work,” he said. The riding crop was put in my hand and a big guy, a big naked guy with a three-quarter- way-there erection stood behind me with another crop held ready as Melissa was bent over the table in front of me.
“Give her what you got and better, or you’ll get worse,” 1 threatened me.
Of course I had no choice but to put stripes across Melissa’s bottom and make her jerk around like a salmon trying to swim up a waterfall. She was soon desperately snorting for breath, and, also like me, she rubbed herself desperately against 1’s hand when he pushed me aside to feel her snatch. She was then allowed to stand up, her gag removed and the last riding crop put back in her hand as Sandra was thrown over the table.
“Both of you — give her heaps or you’ll be back on the table with her.”
So Sandra got twice as many cuts, and the last half of them with her gag removed so everybody could listen to her yelps, moans and screams. It was strange but after I’d landed the first few strokes on her bare rump I quite began to enjoy doing it, and I think Melissa did as well. Maybe it was because we’d had to do what Sandra wanted so many times because she was a better rider than either of us. Of course I had to hit her as hard as I could or get the same treatment myself but I was surprised when I found I was deliberately aiming at the same place each time, a large mole on her left buttock, concentrating on welts which were already sore. Or perhaps it was simply self preservation on my part, knowing we had to make her ready to crawl on her belly to the league, if that was what it took to stop them hurting all three of us.
Anyway, that was what we quickly managed to do, forcing Sandra to beg for mercy.
“God, stop it, please! Please! I’ll do anything you want me to! I’ll suck all of you off! Please! I’ll never go hunting again — I swear it!”
Oh, it was music to the gang’s ears, Sandra’s pleading. They’d known she was the strongest one of the three of us and now she was completely humbled. Once again we were pushed aside, not only by 1 but some of the other guys, all naked now. They grabbed Sandra, lifted her up on 1’s orders, dropped her on her back on the table, held up her legs wide apart and 1 pushed between them, holding his cock in his hand as he slid it into Sandra. I heard her give a great sigh of relief at not being hit anymore as 1 began fucking her.
Not that Melissa or I had any time to reflect on Sandra’s fate because with seconds we were sharing it. On our backs and sprawled across the table ourselves, Sandra on one side of me, Melissa the other and our shoulders touching. One of the gang stepped up onto the table from a chair, dropping down lengths of rope which had already been tied to an overhead rafter and left lying on top of it. Six of them fell and dangled above us like hangman’s nooses, and our boots were held up like Sandra’s as the loops were pulled tight around them, leaving our legs high and wide apart. 1 stepped back from between Sandra’s thighs as the banner was re-hung again, this time to our spurs, while another of the men walked behind the table and propped our heads up with rolled saddle blankets stinking of horse sweat. Which left us gaping at the cameras from underneath the banner, still wearing our boots and hats, our private parts turned into our most public parts, on full display for everyone to look at — or do anything else with them they wanted to.
Once again 1 had proved his skills in advance planning. Now the camera girls moved to each end of the table as the leader claimed his right of first entry. Sandra again, his hands holding the ropes above her feet as he gives her a dozen hard strokes, making the banner wave as if there was a wind blowing and I heard Melissa moan in despair. Sandra is calling out at each plunging violation and the horses stir again in the loose boxes, knowing something unusual is happening and uneasy about it. Sandra’s hand is holding mine tightly enough to crush it. Then 1 abandoned her in mid-fuck, walked down the table and trailed his finger nails on my swelling snatch lips as two more masks loom over me and my tits are grabbed again. I heard Melissa gasp as the same thing happened to her.
I looked sideways at her face, jaw agape as 1 stands between her thighs showing off his hard, red cock, shiny with Sandra’s juices. The hands squelching up her tits were large and strong and Melissa’s fingers stroked the forearms of the man playing with her big nipples. She cried out: “Yes, yes!” as 1 had her, right up to his balls. And as he bends forward between her quivering legs his fingers are prizing open my cunt and rubbing my clitoris. Another guy leant over me, tugging on the nipples that protrude above the clenched fists of the first claimant. Movement and voices are around the table.
“It’s time to fuck, girls!” somebody jeers.
“You bastards!” Melissa sobs and pinches her tight nipples with her fingertips, making some of the men laugh. One of them is busy between Sandra’s thighs, exploring and delving with his fingers but still waiting permission from 1 to impale her again.
Even above the rest of the noise I hear a sound like a gum boot being lifted out of mud patch as 1 withdraws from Melissa. She is whining with impatience as he leaves but he knows she’ll always remember he was the first one to fuck her on this day, this unforgettable day. He leaves the bottom of the wet shaft resting on my pubic patch as his hands played with the other two captured cunts. Then his hand left Sandra for the moment to complete his triumph. The tip of his cock is between my inner lips and driving further yet. As he mounts me I know that his hands were making Sandra and Melissa yelp again. We are all part of his big triumph, all three of us his prisoners and unable to stop him doing whatever he wants with us.
In the back of my mind I had to recognize the truth of 1’s comparison with the killing process at the end of a successful hunt. The gang are crowded around the table like hounds around a fox, and the noises we’re making are the ones that captured animals make.
“All aboard, guys,” 1 shouted, letting his hunting pack off the leash.
The table began shaking as other men appear between the slung up legs on my left and right. Now it’s a free-for-all mass rape and I’m in the middle, reaching up to stroke 1’s beard and neck as we slam together like colliding trains. I’m coming with the speed of an express as well, and I know he is. What really excites me is knowing that the cock inside me is still hot and slippery from being inside my friends. As I explode I wonder what 1’s name is and whether I’ll ever discover it.
Melissa seems to have an unexpected taste for rough love too because she is crying out her satisfaction only moments after I do. A short guy with a fat belly and ginger hairs on his chest is thrashing against her fiercely. Two or three guys seem to be changing places with Sandra too quickly to keep track of. One of the gang who has been massaging my tits almost runs around the table to take 1’s place after he’s finished with me but he’s too late. One of Sandra’s queue of ravishers decides to give me the benefit of his prick instead — he has dark skin, lots of black body hair and his cock is one of the biggest I’ve ever seen. When he rams it home I feel like a ship torpedoed below decks.
Sandra begins bawling out: I’m not sure if she’s genuinely having an orgasm or faking it to please everybody. There’s no need to pretend about the frenzy I’m getting into: the dark guy’s tool is squelching right into the g spot I was never really sure before that I had. On an impulse I put my hand down on Sandra’s belly and press her clit against the cock working into her. She screams out again, much higher and then her fingers are doing the same for me. The league guys laugh and get me to play with Melissa as well, and her with me. We’re past caring about anything now but our own self satisfaction and as cock after cock gets inside us we wank ourselves into a three hole fucking machine that takes on the gang’s lust wholesale. Several of the guys are wandering around in delight, moving from one to another of our cunts and trying a few strokes in each before deciding which one to finally service. Three or four men have de-spunked themselves into me, I’ve lost count of the cocks which have actually been in and out, or how many times I’ve come myself. What I am sure of is that I’ve been hearing plenty of other orgasms from left and right. I wonder how the camera chicks are feeling about it all.
After the first feverish round of fucking the gang lets us off the table. The blankets are thrown on the floor, in front of a full length mirror on the wall which we use to check our riding dress before giving exhibitions. Now we have to give some more exhibitions. A chair is put in front of the mirror, and Melissa has to sit in it, legs wide apart. Sandra crawls over the blankets on her hands and knees, then has to lick Melissa’s cunt clean. I have to stand ready with a riding crop in case Sandra doesn’t do her job properly. I see Melissa’s face staring at her reflection and at the cameras behind us, also aimed at the mirror to record what is happening. At 1’s insistence Melissa catches hold of Sandra’s earrings and holds them tightly until Sandra makes her come. The gang love it, watching Melissa slumped back in the chair and bucking at the blonde hair held tight between her quivering thighs. As soon as she has finished calling out I have to take Melissa’s place.
It’s not something I want to do, not at first, but again there is a perverse pleasure in being forced to hurt Sandra and make her my slave. I hang onto her earrings as if they were reins on a dressage horse and pull her mouth against me my swollen flesh. In the mirror I see her tight little arse cocked up and her own white smeared cunt on show as she desperately licks my clit. The face in the mirror doesn’t look like me at all, the eyes wide and mouth hanging open as I grunt like a pig. Melissa leans forward and brings her riding crop down in a straight line between Sandra’s sore buttocks. She squeals in between my legs then tongues me in absolute fear until I feel the delicious loss of control again — and as my juices flow I look in the mirror and see a row of cocks stiffening and swelling like desert flowers on a rainy day.
Luckily, the rising level of male lust means that Melissa and myself are spared having to lick Sandra. The guys are too interested in having us all perform on them. 1 starts the game again by replacing the chair with the table and three guys sit on the edge of it, facing the mirror. The order is to suck their cocks. We have to lean forward for each man, resting our elbows on their thighs as we take them in our mouths, our bare arses and dangling tits making a pretty picture in the mirror for their further delectation. Somebody passes a bottle of cider around and the guys drink from it but 1 says we’re only allowed to drink from it to wash down a mouthful of come.
I have a raging thirst by now, and it seems the other two girls have as well, judging by the way all our heads are jerking up and down. We’re doing our best but every time 1 raps his pliers on the table we have to stop and take our mouths away from the prick we’re dealing with and remain bent over. Then he walks behind us with a riding crop and each of the guys decides on how many cuts across the bottom we get: one, two, or three. It depends on how good a blow job each one thinks he’s getting. I’m sucking off the ginger chest haired guy who was the first to screw Melissa — he’s a pig, three strokes he wants for me every time, no matter how much I try to please him. Only after the fourth caning do I finally get him to erupt into my mouth, and only then do I get to swallow a precious mouthful of cider mixed with come. 1 nearly chokes with laughter in telling me I’ve just drunk my first genuine cocktail.
For some reason we all finish our men off at about the same time: Sandra stands up with spunk dribbling out of her mouth and is allowed just one swallow from the bottle before passing it to Melissa. Her guy has wiped his cock off in her hair and across her nose. I hear myself laugh at the sight and wonder if I could have somehow gotten drunk on one small drink of cider.
1 changes things around again. A man lies on top of the table, his erection bent over his belly like a wind blown tree. Sandra kneels down astride him, sixty nine style, and takes his cock in her mouth. Melissa and I stand on each side of the table, each holding one of the man’s hands tightly against our cunts as he plays with us. Vibrators appear: one is pushed up Sandra’s arse, another in her cunt. Melissa gets one up her arse, then me. And still they keep coming: I have two more applied, one at each nipple. Each vibrator is being held by one of the gang and they work away with them, trying to see how far over the edge we can be pushed. I go off like a string of firecrackers and Melissa faints.
The guys throw her over the table and revive her with some grease and a cock up her bottom. Sandra not only swallows her guy’s prick, she almost sucks up his balls as well. The gang put her on top of the table on her back and bend her legs right back until her toes are almost touching her face. Then 1 dribbles cider into her cunt lips and I eagerly lap it up, taking turns with Melissa. Then it’s my turn to be used as a drinking fountain. Sandra eagerly lick up every drop from my snatch as I give two men hand jobs and I get another vibrator slid between my buttocks. I’m sure I’ll never be normal again, never be able to recover from the fuck-mad frenzy I’m in.
We do get a chance for a few breaths after Melissa’s outraged squeals have finally stopped — a very brief chance. 1 lies on the table on his back. He orders Melissa to lie on her stomach between his legs and lick his balls. Sandra and I have to lean far over him to take turns at giving him a two-mouth blow job. Before we even begin two more of the male fox heads appear behind Melissa, each with a vibrator in his hand, each merrily buzzing. Perhaps they have been changing the batteries. The humming noise rises and then falls as both of streamlined tips are buried inside Melissa, then rises again as another pair of men work the vibrators in their hands inside Sandra’s cunt and anus. The female yelps sound like a pair of questing hounds finding a fresh scent. I look behind me and see two more of the shiny metal cigars homing in towards my own snatch and arse. The men carrying them grin at me without mercy from underneath their masks.
“Yoiks and tally-ho, Kate, old girl,” 1 says in his plummiest accent. “That’s the really exciting thing about hunting — just when you think it’s all over, it’s only just beginning.”
