Cruel Devices 3: Forbidden Punishment Collection (Extreme Dark Defloration Bondage) Read online

  No, no, but I can’t stop it.

  My head snaps backwards, skull cracking against the stake at my back as stars swim in my eyes and a raging tempest of sensation crashes through my body.

  I release against him, my sex squeezing and releasing mechanically as my anus clenches in unison around the brute’s finger.

  There is nothing I can do but be swept away, delight as I have never known it dancing through my nerves and everything exploding, imploding, all I have known smashed and shattered in an instant by this climax.

  I moan and breathe out into the smoke that sweeps over us, let it burn in my throat as the brute gives one final, violent thrust that lifts me halfway up the stake and from the ground completely.

  He pauses at the end of me, body stiff before he quivers and ejaculates inside my cunt, sending his sperm in thick torrents splashing and spurting against my inner walls until it drives out between us, running down my leg and falling onto the ground with a sizzle.

  He bucks two times, three, dark eyes lost in ecstasy and searching my own as he pumps me full of his progeny. He pulls out and my cunt gapes, a torrent of semen spilling out of my slit.

  I cry, conflicted by emotion, nipples painful on my chest.

  The chief’s cock wilts right before my eyes, bending away from his body until it hangs once more between his legs like a wayward creature of the deep, dripping and dark with my virginal blood.

  The cuts on my body sting. Smoke fills my eyes and nose, but I am alive. There is that.

  The chief walks away. His limp cock continues to drip sperm as others rush past him and towards my position.

  No.

  They come thick and fast, moving towards my body.

  The first man, eyes wide and cock stiffened, takes my ankles and lifts my legs up clear off the ground, compressing them against my chest as he gets his cock into place and drives home.

  I bellow into the night as he fucks me, his cock plunging into my creamy depths, pushing right to the back of my cunt as he nestles into my neck.

  The compressed position he has me in places extraordinary pressure on my bounds and I cry harder.

  A young boy comes beside me and reaches between my legs and chest for my breast, pulling at my nipple and rolling it between his fingers as sensation returns to my lower body and each pounding thrust into my sex starts a fresh wave of fire moving throughout.

  The man fucking me gives a final plunge and deposits his load, bucking against me, his balls hard against the stake and the head of his cock sweeping along the upper roof of my cunt as he pulls out and his seed once more spills onto the ground below.

  Almost instantly he is replaced by another, younger man who spares no time using me, my ankles on his shoulders as he runs yet deeper. His hands cradle my buttocks, fingers dipping hard into the beaten globes as I’m taken for third time.

  There is nothing I can do. Tell it all I want, my body will not comply, galloping away to another climax as I’m filled by these brutes.

  To my side one man crouches on the ground and another leaps onto his back.

  With hand atop my head, he directs his dark member towards my mouth.

  At first I refuse to open it until new hands come around my jaw and push until I have no choice.

  As soon as my lips part the cock slides between them and deep into my mouth.

  I have never taken a man in this way. It is a job only for hookers and streetwalkers, the very lowest denominator of society to let their mouths be sullied so.

  To my surprise, the cock does not have an unpleasant taste. Curiously, I flatten my tongue and let it press deeper, the shaft silken between my lips. Out in and in it goes in time with the cock stretching out my sex as the whooping and commotion ramps up and the sky cracks again.

  The man in my cunt bellows and pulls his member free, holding it against my belly so that his sperm comes out in hot spurts against my skin and belly button, running in rivulets into my pubis and the raw folds below.

  The cock in my mouth seems to grow in size exponentially. The balls swell against my chin as the member twitches and begins to release directly down my throat.

  Hands on my jaw, all I can do is swallow the seed, swallowing until I can take no more and it runs from my lips warm and salty.

  The man fucking my mouth laughs and howls, stepping down and helping up his friend up into the same position.

  I open my mouth willingly and take his shaft in, running my tongue around the head.

  This seems to please him greatly.

  At least you’re a fast learner, Elizabeth, I can hear my mother’s voice echoing in my head.

  I suck the cock harder, letting it glide right into my throat until I have to supress gagging and calm myself.

  My feet touch the ground and for a moment there is precious release as my cunt is left unfilled.

  Without warning the young cock ejects down my throat as I cough and splutter, taking the sweet surprise quickly.

  The young boy drops down and heads off with his friend well satisfied.

  I have just enough time to look forward to see a long line of men waiting. Most have cocks already stiff and willing, standing like spears from their painted bodies. Others, the older among them, stroke and pull at their members with slack smiles and eager eyes.

  There must be twenty, thirty men waiting.

  They will kill me.

  But even as I think it, there is a strange thrill in the idea of being fucked to death, as pagan and primal as it seems.

  My cunt squeezes as the fire grows higher around us, hiding all else.

  I pant hard, chest heaving in and out against the smoke and heat, all of it turning my head woozy and light.

  The next man approaches and his cock is not as large as the others but much thicker at the base.

  He slaps a breast and I gasp. He does it again as my nipples harden tighter, curiosity on his face as he slips a finger into the slimy confines of my slackened sex.

  He lifts a leg and I prepare myself for the next onslaught, but when he places his cock in my folds it naturally slips down to rest against my anus.

  “Ple-” but the word catches as with all his weight he shifts forward and the head of his cock burrows into the burning ring of my ass.

  My mouth rings out and I stare at the muddle of a sky above as he pushes again and my anal passage swallows the head of him completely.

  When he pulls out it’s like my insides will come with him. He grunts and drives forward harder, licking up the side of my face as I take almost half of his shaft into the ultimate taboo, hot and tight around his cock.

  His face is scrunched up as he pulls back and my anus tightens. He runs deeper, thrusting and pressing until I can take no more and he fills my passage completely.

  Oddly, I find my hips meeting his thrusts, wanting his cock to be longer, to probe deeper into my rectum as my cunt flows with new juices and the seed drools from it to lubricate the unholy act below.

  My head rolls from left to right as others kneel and watch the obscene penetration.

  The top of my sex grinds against the hard pelvis of my defiler and sensation floods my lower body.

  I realise in horror I am moaning again, wanting this, wanting man after man and cock after cock to spear and impale me, fucking me hard against the stake that keeps me driven to the ground as they pour their seed into my broken body.

  “Yes.” It’s one word, but the power it has turns the tables, at least in my mind.

  “Yes!” I shout, as he pushes so deep I can feel him tap against my spine.

  “Fu-” I almost can’t bring myself to say it, but finally it comes easy. “Fuck me.”

  The liberation alone pushes me close to abandon.

  I mew, moan and push forwards, wrists bleeding in the twine as the fire rages and I am ravaged.

  Harder and faster the brute plunges, fucking and reaming me out with increasing speed until I snap and let myself go, careening into an abyss of colour and song, everything
clenching and releasing in turn as I climax.

  The brute jerks free. Two men lift him under his legs in a makeshift chair and run his cock right into my gasping mouth,.

  I take it in, taste my ass upon it, as he cries into the night and ejects his seed.

  I swallow thirstily, sucking him dry and running my tongue around the sensitive underside of his cock head until he flaps his arms and quivers, completely spent.

  Ten men, twenty, they do not stop coming.

  I climax over and over until I am a limp mess on the stake.

  The fire never stops as I move towards unconsciousness, finally slipping away to be awoken by a pail of water and a fresh series of fuckings, cocks in my mouth, my ass, my cunt as I am taken all night.

  The last man in the line, an elder, takes the longest, laughing with merriment as he fingers my ass and runs his skinny cock shallowly in and out of red and raw fuckhole.

  I come again, unable to control my body’s craving for such sexual acts of debasement.

  Broken, my sex misshapen and my anus likewise, I hang by the twine, cheek against the rough surface of the stake as more natives come down the path to throw sticks at my feet. They build up the pyre around me, adjusting it until I’m enclosed by a nest of wood.

  Their intention is clear.

  I say what prayers I can as my body continues to buzz and betray me. It begs for more, already seeking out the sin that seemed so foreign just hours ago. Cocks and semen fill my mind. I crave them, beg the villagers to continue to ravish me, but they do not hear, stacking wood.

  Thunder booms overhead as the clouds come together. The moon is gone and in its place a complete darkness as the villagers work.

  Content, the chief comes forward with a torch and smiles, reaching down to place it against the pyre.

  “No!” I plead. “I will do anything. I will be your slave. Take my body!” but he ignores me, his torch kissing the bundle of sticks that surrounds me.

  Instantly, they burst into flame and a curtain of gold fans up around me in a ring.

  The heat is extraordinary. My skin softens, begins to peel.

  I pray it will not take long, that the smoke will get to me before the flames do, but it seems uncertain.

  Higher the flames dance, twisting in my eyes as I cry and sob, lamenting ever stepping foot on the Continental in the first place.

  I will never see him, the man I am betrothed to. He will never have the satisfaction of filling me as these natives have. He will not be my first as we had planned.

  The flames come so close I can see nothing else.

  But right before they take me, as the fiery goblin fingers kiss my nipples, the heavens open.

  The downpour is unlike anything I have seen before. Rain falls like the ocean has been dumped from the sky. Hair sticks to my face, flattens against my cheeks and shoulders, washing away the filth and seed that continues to pour from my orifices.

  The flames fall back, dampened and then extinguished completely as the rain sheets and stamps them out.

  The villagers cry out, running around in a panic.

  The chief raises his hands, appealing no doubt for calm, but the natives will not listen, pointing at me and shouting ‘Ku-ra!’ over and over against the din of the rain.

  Finally, the rain goes as quick as it came. Silence returns but for the smouldering pyre. Water runs off my body, trails between my breasts as the villagers drop to their knees one by one in my direction. They chant ‘Ku-ra’ over and over and over.

  The chief kneels and extends his hands towards me as a native runs up, head bowed to cut me free.

  I fall from the stake onto my hands and knees, fingers pressing into the hot earth and eyes rising.

  “Ku-ra!”

  “Ku-ra!”

  “Ku-ra!” they cry.

  Queen.

  PUNISHED ON THE JUDAS CRADLE

  I breathe out against his neck, the shaded wall cool on my back.

  His hand rides higher up the interior of my dress, finger dancing at the edge of my underwear.

  I hold his wrist. “No, wait.”

  “Please,” he says, voice strained with lust as his finger pushes under the cotton and into the wet juncture beyond.

  He kisses me again, deeper, but I push him away, pulling my dress back into place. “No, Franco. If father catches you…”

  Franco runs his fingers through his inky hair, nodding at the ground. “Yes, yes, but your father does not scare me, Lucia.”

  I prod at his chest as we step out of the dappled corner of the villa garden and into the Tuscany sun. “He should. He’s killed men for less.”

  Franco moves closer and runs his hands down my back, cupping my buttocks. “You are killing me. You said we could…”

  “Soon, I know. I promise.”

  There’s a call from the house. “Lucia?”

  “I have to go,” I tell Franco, dancing away with my sex still hot and moist. “Ciao.”

  I blow him a kiss and skip away as he scales the villa wall and drops from sight.

  Every time we meet our encounters get increasingly risky. As a don and man of stature in town, I know that if my father did find out his temper would not be matched in all of Italy… except for that of Don Gianno’s, perhaps.

  I look past the villa walls to the stronghold on top of the hill in the distance – Don Gianno’s. For almost thirty years he has controlled this town with an iron fist. Taxes get higher every year, legal or not.

  I’ve heard the rumours, the gossip of what he’s done to those who do not pay, those who disobey him. It’s why no one has challenged him, even my father, a criminal himself.

  They say he has exotic devices of torture, built especially for his purposes and strange desires. I shiver at the thought and resume my pruning.

  I prick my finger on a rose stem, a bright dome of red rising on the pad.

  *

  At supper, father and I sit at opposite ends of the table as always. Mother died a year ago. It is just us now. A servant girl brings in another dish and my father’s eyes slide down to her pert ass as she bends over.

  I try to distract him. “The factory is coming along, father?”

  He smiles. “Yes, Lucia, very well. We should be ready just in time for the new year.”

  Industry has flourished at the turn of the century. The rolling hills of my youth are now slowly being overtaken by machines and factories, large warehouses and production on a scale few could have anticipated ten years ago. My father is at the very pinnacle of such innovation. It allows for the luxurious life we lead.

  Suddenly there’s s sharp knocking on the front door.

  The servant girl rushes off to get it.

  There’s a scream. Both my father and I stand in unison, knocking the table. My glass titters upon it.

  The servant girl comes back into the room. A man has a knife at her throat and hand around her waist. Two men come in behind him.

  I recognise them instantly as Don Gianno’s goons.

  My father throws down his napkin. “What is the meaning of this?!”

  The man with the knife presses it harder against the poor girl’s throat until a line of blood runs in a strict downward trail. “Your taxes are late.”

  My father steps closer, hands on his hips. He’s a large man, a formidable figure, but the goons are just as built. “I have paid all my taxes for this year, and more. Don Gianno knows this.”

  The other goon steps forward, rubbing his hands together. He looks at my body while he speaks. “There are new taxes.”

  “New taxes?”

  “Yes, another 15%.”

  “That is absurd!” my father cries. “You can tell the don the won’t see another cent from me!”

  The goon’s eyes continue to explore me. I cover myself as his gaze seems to penetrate right through my clothing. “That is unfortunate, Don Rossi. Don Gianno will not be pleased.”

  My father looks furious, face red. “Get out!”

  The go
on holding the servant girl lifts the knife and throws her to the floor. As he leaves he points the knife in my direction and brings the back of the blade to his mouth, licking it slowly. “See you soon.”

  I help the servant girl up. She shakes in my grip, terrified. My father looks at the window, watching the goons go. We do not speak of it any more.

  *

  When the hand comes over my mouth, at first I think I am dreaming it. Reality clobbers at my head like a hammer and I realise this is no dream. All I can see in the darkness are the man’s glinting eyes and his teeth as I’m pulled from bed.

  I’m just in my nightgown and underwear, unable to scream or breathe as another man comes out of the darkness in my room and places a bag over my head.

  I’m lifted and carried away. I moan and try to shout, but it’s useless. The men are too strong.

  Icy tendrils of fear work their way under my skin as I realise what is happening. I struggle harder, sweat breaking out over my skin as I twist and try to squirm free, but they hold me firm.

  We’re outside now, the night air cold on my goose-flesh.

  I’m placed on a seat as the two men come either side of me and the sound of horses hooves clatter into the night.

  “Father!” I scream internally, but it’s as useful as a chocolate teapot. Even if I could manage to keep out, he would not hear. He could sleep through a forest fire.

  The bag is stifling. My chest heaves, nipples hardening against the thin gossamer of my nightgown as the carriage continues to move away from the villa and the men compress either side of me.

  I know where we are headed.

  I know what awaits.

  No, please. Anything but there.

  Eventually the carriage comes to a stop and I am led back out. A door opens with an ominous groan and we move into an interior as my feet slip and struggle for purchase on the marble below.

  The hand over my mouth leaves and I scream with everything I have. I scream until my lungs are on fire and my voice turns hoarse.

  A hot mouth comes to my ear. “Scream all you want. No one cares up here.”

  The air grows warmer and I see the glow of a fire through the hood that cloaks my head.

  I’m led to what I imagine to be a wall.

  My wrists are pulled up high and iron cuffs come around them, pinning them to a solid surface high above. My feet are kicked apart and cuffs secured around them as well until I am spread-eagled and vulnerable, the bag still covering my head and obstructing vision.