The plane was in route from Manhattan's Newark airport to Peru, South America with its 20 passengers comprising models, photographers, agents from Sports Illustrated when it was caught in a freak thunderstorm.
Smoke still trailed from the smoldering remains of the two Rolls Royce engines. One had failed when a million bolts of electricity seized its turbines, and it was a testament to the engineering feat of its makers that the remaining engine had kept the plane aloft in the freak storm for another 3 hours before it too finally succumbed, not to mother nature, but to lack of aviation fuel.
Now, Denise Sanders was all alone in a hostile alien environment. She was hopping that the pilot had a chance to send out the SOS transmitting their approximate location, and had stayed in the scattered wreckage for the last three days surviving on scraps of air-line meals
Denise was a survivor. She had to be in order to get to where she currently was, as top model and cover girl for Sports Illustrated Swimwear. She will survive. She had to, there was no other option. These were the words that occupied her mind constantly.
At a relatively young and tender age of 24 years, she had already risen through the ranks of most of her peers to take poll position on the covers of the tabloids. Of cause the fact that she was a stunning brunette beauty with long luscious hair, a lithe willowy figure with wasp's waist, snowy white complexion and nice firm natural 32B breasts, stood her in good stead.
It did not help her present predicament that they were enroute to a formal evening wear shoot and she was still wearing a body hugging white silk gown. Day time temperatures in the rain forest reached 38 degrees Celsius and after three continuous days of wear in the moist humid environment, the fine silk fabric now stuck to her constantly moist body like a second skin.
Most of the exotic gowns had no relevance in this hostile environment. What she would not give for a good pair of jeans and long sleeved overalls to afford her some shelter from the biting insects. And a nice hot bath to wash of several days of perspiration that had accumulated in this hot and humid jungle.
With nightfall, the discomfort of the tropical heat was replaced with the cold fear that accompanied the cloak of darkness which engulfed the thick jungle canopy. She had been paralyzed with fear on the first night, lying curled in fetus position in the remains of the business class cabin in a thick blanket of darkness as the nocturnal life forms of the jungle went about their usual business for the night. Except for an inquisitive anteater who wandered into the wreckage looking for a meal, she was left unmolested.
The second night was a different story. The decent of the DC10 had not gone un-noticed by the locals. In fact the native tribe had already scouted the parameters of the crash site to investigate the latest "offering from the gods" fearing to come any closer for fear of invoking the wrath of the havens.
But as the wreckage lay dormant and silent, save for a wisp of smoke from its mangled turbines, they become more bold on the second night and ventured closer. She was aware of their presence as she heard voices in the dark, but followed her instinct and stayed well within the confines of the cabin.
Denise realized she would have to vacate her temporary home soon. The DC10 was reserved exclusively for the modeling crew of 20 from Sports Illustrated (10 models along with make-up artists, photographers, agents and designers) and she was the only sole survivor.
The original impact had strewn some of the bodies far from the wreckage as the plane had broken into two separate pieces. However, there remained at least 4 corpses in her make-shift home (3 models and a photographer). She had dragged them to the far end of the wreckage (away from her sleeping cot), but in the humid tropical heat, they were already in a state of decay, and in another few days the stench from the decomposition would fill the small cabin, attracting unwelcome visitors.
She knew it was only a matter to time before the water supply and food ratios ran-out and she had to relocate, otherwise her temporary shelter would become her permanent tomb.
But she was also torn by indecision. She knew that a search party would have been organized, and there was also a chance the pilot has transmitted their last known co-ordinates before the plane went down, so the search party would narrow down the geographic area of their search. And there was also a chance they would be able to spot the scattered remains of the DC10 wreckage from the air. The last thing she wanted was to have a rescue party descend from the havens onto the wreckage after she had left.
After pondering over her dilemma, Denise took stock of her food and water ratios and estimated they would last her another week at most. She decided to stay put for another 3 days and devised a plan allocate the daylight hours to do a reconnaissance of the immediate area to seek out a source of fresh water and a safer abode.
As the golden rays of the early morning sun penetrated the thick jungle foliage, marking the start off the fourth day, she slipped on the size 11 boots that she had taken from the dead pilot and started her trek north (or what she thought was north), always taking care to keep the wreckage within visual range.
The boots were much too big for her dainty size 7 feet, but stiletto heels were the last thing she needed in a rain forest. And she needed some protection from the creepy crawlies that wandered the dense underbrush of the rain forest.
The early freshness of the morning dew was quickly dissipated by the stifling heat of the tropical jungle as the sun climbed higher into the sky. High above her head the thick canopy of leaves gave some shady respite, but also served to trap the heat in.
After one hour of brisk trekking, Denise was bathed in perspiration, the fine silk gown clung damply to her moist skin. It was a USD2000 Armani classic and she had no doubt its designer would be turning in his grave if he saw the torn and tattered state of his work. She had also added to the damage by shearing off the bottom half of the dress, below her knees, so she could walk faster and easier. This was no way to treat a USD2000 art work, but survival took precedence and practicality was the order of the day.
Unable to endure the stifling heat, she paused for awhile and took a grateful sip from her plastic Evian bottle. She looked back and was reassured to see the distant wreckage of the DC10, with its cockpit section suspended high in the canopy of branches.
She casually scanned ahead again, and suddenly froze as her eyes settled upon another pair of eyes in the thick foliage ahead that gazed back intently at her. She was not alone, and it was quite likely they had been tracking her for quite some time. The pair of brown eyes continued their appraisal of her, patiently waiting for her next move.
She took a hesitant step back, were they hostile or friendly? Her fear mounted as her stalker emerged from the shadows. He was huge and totally nude, carrying a long spear. As he approached her, she spied a necklace with small shrunken human skulls decorating his neck. That made up her mind for her and she turned heels and ran as fast as her legs could carry her, making a bee line back to the wreckage.
A quick glance over her shoulders indicated her stalker was giving chase. His long limbs carrying him gracefully and effortlessly over the uneven jungle terrain, quickly narrowing the distance between them. She ran faster, stumbling several times in the heavy size 11 boots. As she neared the familiar wreckage, she turned around and was relieved to see the native no longer in sight. Suddenly, a bolo sprang from out of no where, wrapping itself tightly around her lower calf and tripping her in mid-flight.
She landed in an ungraceful heap and was momentarily stunned with the wind knocked out of her. Immediately she struggled to rid herself of the tight coiled rope that snared her feet, but was too late as the huge Negro approached. She pushed herself backwards desperately trying to place some distance between them, but it was hopeless. As he raised his spear, she closed her eyes, praying for a quick and merciful end.
The silence of the jungle was broken by a single shot, followed by the thud of a falling body. She opened her eyes again and saw the now lifeless body of the Negro strewn across her feet, eyes still open and staring uncomprehendingly, with a single bullet hole gaping on his forehead. Gratefully she whispered a quick prayer of thanks to the gods and struggled free of the tangled bolos.
Turning around she started to thank her savior ...but the words stuck in her mouth as she took stock of the band of seven men before her.
"Well, well, well, what have we here, a gift from the gods wont u say...and doesn't she look absolutely delicious," sneered a bearded pot bellied man
"Geeze, you are goddamn right, the closest I can get to broads like her is on the covers of those flashy magazines," another man with a scarred face said.
A third moved closer and said; "That's probably where she came from, she's probably from the plane that went down four days back carrying them models, its all over the radio... and there's a nice reward for her too"
Denise sensed a ray of hope; "Yes there is, you have been so kind all of you, if you can just take me to the nearest town, and the local authorities, I can contact my agency to arrange settlement of the reward."
The fat bearded one laughed; "Yes a hundred grand would come in useful, that would be about 3 rhino horns or a couple of elephant tusks... but you on the other hand are a god send, none of us had any proper women meat in quite a few years, not in this stink hole and not if u count the cheap smelly native whores here...you are prime meat." And he licked his lips with relish.
In horror she realized that they were poachers and smugglers. All of them were armed, and all of them were staring at her with undisguised lust. The fat one approached her grabbing her by her arm; "what are we waiting for boys, she smells mighty nice from here and I wanna get up close and personal."
"No wait, we all want to go first," said Scar Face, "look at her, a kiss of what lies between those legs and I would die a happy man."
"Over my dead body... she's mine first you wait your turn," Growled Fatty.
"Put it to the vote man, we settle it like we do our hunt, whoever brings down the prey gets first go," suggested Scar Face.
The other 5 men nodded in silence. A look of frustration and rage came over Fatty's face. He pulled Denise to him and forced his mouth on to hers for a long kiss before reluctantly releasing her; "You will be mine soon," he sneered.
Scar Face nodded to her and said: "Don't you want your freedom... RUN!"
Again she took flight, spurred on instinctively by mortal fear. But deep down, Denise knew it was a hopeless race. There were 7 of them, they were bigger, stronger and meaner, and they knew the terrain. But she had to take the one last chance, the alternative was just to give-up, and she was no quitter. Denise was a winner, she thought to herself, and she would not go down this way, and not to this band of half baked uncivilized cavemen.
A quick glance behind indicated strangely that none of the poachers had given chase. Encouraged, she stepped up the pace, plunging blindly into the thick foliage. Suddenly a hairy arm reached from behind and painfully caught hold of a fist full of her long flying hair. It was Fatty again and he had obviously taken a short cut, anticipating her route.
She was more agile and nimble, turning quickly she delivered a well aimed kick at his crotch which caught him totally off-guard. His face contorted in pain causing him to loosen his grip on her long mane of black hair, and she seized the opportunity to take flight again, in a different direction.
She did not get very far when Scar Face appeared directly in front of her. Failing to stop I time she flew right into his open arms. She could smell his putrid unwashed stench as he pulled her to him, one grubby hand reaching for her bosom while the other sought out her crotch. But her body and limbs were still slick and slippery with her perspiration, she twisted around and brought her knee upward with all her strength between his legs.
For the second time she was lucky and the stunned poacher let her go, cursing under his breath. Quickly she turned blindly to the right again running on. Again another poacher appeared in front of her and she deviated, the process repeated itself several times over until she lost count of the number of directional changes she made.
Realizing she was totally lost only added to her state of panic. They were herding her, running her down much like a pack of wolves would take turn to pace its prey. Each wolf in the pack would give chase for awhile, herding the prey in the desired direction, before a fresh member of the pack took over.
The trees and branches tore at her clothes and exposed flesh, leaving small minute cuts, but she pushed on, willing her tired legs into motion. She felt her lungs sucking in air as her body struggled to maintain her running pace. It was now high noon and her prolonged physical exertion, together with the afternoon heat had drained her body. She could feel the build up of heat and beads of sweat covered her entire body as the cooling system in her fast tiring body struggled to cool it down.
She stopped abruptly realizing that she had stumbled into a small clearing with a ram shackled house directly in front. Looking desperately around she realized she had been herded into the edge of a cliff with only the route back being the only available option. Perhaps there was help behind those doors, she thought as she stumbled up the front door banging on it like a mad woman. But it stayed silently close. Looking back she could see Fatty casually strolling up the path, followed by the other poachers.
"Please help me!" she cried in desperation as she hammered the door again.
At last the heavy oak door creaked open and she was greeted by a huge fat woman with a shot-gun, viewing her suspiciously.
"Please help me, they are after me, please, I have money, there is a reward for me alive!" she pleaded.
With a casual waive of the barrel the Fat Woman gestured for her to enter the house.
"Oh thank you so much ma'am, I will reward you, where is your phone please, you have to lock and bolt the door, there are 7 of them."
"Don't cha worry sweety, the phone is in the bedroom, you go call them authorities while I hold the pack of them off." Smiled the Fat Woman.
Denise quickly stumbled into the bedroom. It was dim and musky with a heavy unwashed odor. After a few minutes she spied the phone in a far corner and snatched it up, but the line was dead. She tapped the cradle several times to no avail and made her way again to the living room.
"Ma'am your phone is dead, is there another one I..." Her voice trailed off as she stumbled into the living room. Fatty had deposited his bulk comfortably on the stained sofa, and the other 6 poachers had also wandered in.
"Looks like you got acquainted with our latest guest Meg," he laughed.
The Fat Woman responded; "Well look at the catch you boys took home today. You were lucky you got here in time, was just about to blow her cotton pickin' brains out."
She realized her position now truly hopeless. She had been herded right into the heart of the wolf's den, and the pack were all hungry for dinner. She tried to negotiate;
"All of you think, USD100k is a lot of money... it's not worth it."
Fatty smiled: "We have been through this before, poaching is a profitable profession, but in this part of no-man's land the best whore that money can buy is Meg here."
Meg shouted: "Fuck you fatty!"
He laughed and continued: "Meg here has been servicing our boys for a good 2-3 years now. All 7 of us, 3 times a day each, you can imagine the physical toll on her, even for a woman of her size."
Scar Face chimed in: "Meg's no woman, she's a fucking whale... we want a piece of little Miss Mupphet here. In fact, looking at both of them its hard to believe they are the same species, let alone the same sex."
Meg: "Fuck you too, you certainly had no problems performing this morning."
Scar Face: "That's before our little Miss Mupphet paid us this visit, now I just wanna suck-up every drop of fluid from her sweet body."
Fatty stood-up: "So you see, its not a question of money here, to us, you are priceless coz no amount of money will fetch a prime catch like you."
Scar Face inched forward eagerly : "Enough talk, want a piece of her now, I can smell her all the way from across the room, yummy."
Fatty snarled: "You wait your turn, I bagged her first, take her into the bed room and tie her up."
Denise was determined to resist to the death. She managed to elude or slip out of the first few hairy paws. But they closed in on her together, expertly handling her as they would do for any other life-stock. Fatty finally twisted both her arms painfully behind her back and half dragged and carried her onto the massive bed.
He forcefully brought her arms over her head and handcuffed them to the bed posts. She tried to fight but her body was too tired from the run and her legs quickly gave in as rough pairs of hand parted them and handcuffed her feet to the bed posts.
Fatty wasted no time, "Lets start the ball rolling..." he whispered hoarsely and he quickly tore the silky gown from her body, staring lewdly at her white lithe body clad only in her lacy bra and undies.
He quickly undid her bra, it was damp with her perspiration and he buried his nose in it inhaling; "Aahh there is no smell like that of a young lass... here is some appetizers for you lads," he flung the lacy bra to eagerly waiting hands amidst whoops of delight.
Denise could feel the cold air making contact with her damp skin and nipples. She flinched as Fatty bent eagerly forward taking her right breast in his mouth and sucking hungrily, while his dirty paw groped and massage her left breast, mauling her and twitching her non-responsive nipples painfully between his fingers.
"God you smell even better then you look," he grunted, sniffing the length of her naked body like a dog, he slowly worked his way up her side to the sensitive cleft of her left arm-pit and covered the damp area with his mouth and nose, inhaling her musky natural odor.
"Enough with the preliminaries, gotta get me a whiff of your sweet puss and taste the golden pot of honey," he leered. He roughly reached for her white lacy panties and impatiently ripped the fine material from her.
Taking a moment, he again inspected the damp under garment and buried his nose in it. "More appetizers coming up boys, wait till you get a whiff of this fragrant snatch," he said as he tossed the flimsy material to eagerly waiting hands.
She was totally nude now, tied and spread eagled to the bed, surrounded by the wolf pack. Trembling and feeling vulnerable and exposed, she could feel 6 pairs of eager eyes roaming up and down the length of her naked body.
"Now for the real thing." As his head disappeared between her legs, Denise could feel her body tense in preparation for the invasion. She inhaled sharply as she felt the tip of his coarse tongue roughly exploring her tender vagina. Fatty was not gentle and he pushed his tongue as far into her small orifice as it would go, before attempting to cover her entire entrance with his mouth and sucking noisily like a dog, trying to capture the accumulation of Denise's fragrant essence over the past 4 days.
Not content to just subjecting her vagina to his oral abuse, he trusted both hands above his head and cupped each soft firm breast in each hand, squeezing painfully and bruising her tender flesh before seeking out each nipple between his fingers and twitching tem painfully.
Denise tried to twist and turn to toss him away, but his bulk was too much for her slight model's frame and she was helplessly pinned under his beefy arms. Suddenly, she shuddered as his wondering tongue made contact with the sensitive nub of her clitoris. Fatty sensed her body tensing; "Hey look ladies, I think I found our ice-queen's G spot, lets see me make her melt into molten lava."
Relentlessly he lashed at her clitoris again and again with his tongue, teasing it before taking the nub entirely in his mouth and sucking on it. Slowly, he was able to tease the sensitive nub into an involuntary state of arousal.
He paused to examine his handy work; "You like it don't you, you fucking whore, come on admit it."
When she did not answer, he took the sensitive erect nub between his teeth and ground them gently. Denise let out an ear piercing scream as the sharp pain brought with it a flood of warm sensations that washed over her loins.
"Ok, now for my grand entrance, that's what your little puss here is aching for, well its gonna have a lot of company and house-guests pretty soon, starting with me big brother here."
Fatty stood up and tore off his jacket revealing a huge blubber of fat. To her utter disgust she noticed that he had not been circumcised. His foreskin hung over the penis like some diseased, rotting outer layer.
Denise was determined to resist to the death. But she was tied to the bed in a spread eagled position, still, she twisted and turn her body, trying to evade the mammoth phallus. It looked obscene and dirty, seeming to throb in eager anticipation as it moved ever closer to her small sensitive orifice. She realized in horror that the other poachers and Meg had settled around the room enjoying the spectacle.
This infuriated her all the more. Gathering a mouth full of saliva, she spat the glob of fluid straight at Fatty's face. It landed on his face trickling down his right cheek. He paused for awhile, and scooped the saliva from his face brought it to his mouth, sucking on it like a candy "Yummy, so sweet, almost as sweet as the nectar from your honey-port below."
"Well you can have some more," Denise shot back, but before she got any further, a heavy hand slammed into her face. Fatty back handed her face three times in quick succession.
"We can either do this the easy way, or the hard way, you decide. I prefer the hard way so just give me more openings like this."
As her world stopped spinning, the coppery bitter taste of blood filled her mouth. Still reeling from the blows, she was totally unprepared as Fatty tried to shove the huge phallus into her. The violence had added to his sexual arousal and his manhood was fully erect, emerging fully out of his foreskin.
A pungent stench filled the air and she realized that he had probably not washed beneath the foreskin for god knows how long, it was covered with yellow scum and smelled like decayed cheese. The stench was overwhelming. The thought of the dirty disgusting phallus making contact with her and penetrating her filled her with loathing, but her body was too tired and battered in her hazy state to resist.
Using brute force, he was able to get 1/3 of the phallus into the small orifice. The searing pain of the initial entry jolted Denise back into full consciousness and she bucked and rocked her torso violently, trying to vomit him out of her and regurgitate his disgusting appendage from within her. But it was a losing battle as Fatty used his immense bulk to cram inch after painful inch of the dirty discoloured phallus between her legs. Slowly, more and more of the immense organ disappeared into her warm moist recesses.
Denise moaned in pain as she felt her small vagina stretched to its limit to accommodate the invading organ. After what seemed an eternity for her, the entire organ had disappeared within her, buried in her vagina. She felt violated defiled, corrupted by the deformed primitive organ.
Through teary eyes, she watched in silent rage and frustration as a look of bliss washed over Fatty's face. His eyes were closed, shifting his weight for a tighter more comfortable fit, he grunted like a pig as he savoured the delicious tight, warm and moist embrace of Denise's vagina. His jaws were slack and saliva was drooling from the corners of his mouth.
"Ohhhh my god," he muttered, "this is fucking fantastic, you are wonderful babe, This is nothing like fucking Meg!"
Scar Face moved to the edge of the bed; "Then why don't you come now so we can all have a go."
"No way man, I want to enjoy this ride, you guys will get your turn, now fuck-off and let me lubricate her pussy for you."
He started rocking back and forth, slowly pumping his organ like a piston into Denise. The friction of the huge phallus against the sensitive walls of her vagina added to her discomfort. With his free right hand, Fatty found her sensitive clitoris again and started rubbing it in a circular motion with his thumb, applying direct pressure on the engorged nub.
Meanwhile, Scar Face was not about to wait out his turn. Ignoring Fatty, he clambered onto the bed and stared hungrily at Denise's breasts; "Yummy, nice and firm, yet soft and smooth as a baby's bottom, nothing like Meg's sagging jugs," he laughed as his fingers wondered over her tender nipples. With much relish he took the right tit into his mouth sucking hungrily.
Fatty was aware that he had company on the dinner table, but he was to much engrossed and decided that as long as Scar Face stayed at the upper half of the menu, he would live with it, for now. The rest of the poachers however still maintained a respectful distance, staring hungrily and waiting their turn, much like the hierarchical ladder in a wolf pack. It was clear in this pack that the two dominant males were Fatty and Scar Face.
The combine assault of Fatty and Scar Face inevitably wore down Denise's defenses. She shuddered as her nipples hardened in Scar Face's warm wet mouth. Releasing her right quivering nipple, his mouth wondered over to her left breast, seeking out and finding her tender left nipple.
Fatty continued to move his huge phallus in and out of her at a moderate pace, intending to prolong the act. His beer bully and huge phallus came constantly into contact with her clitoris and she could feel the sheer skin to skin kissing on the sensitive nub.
She realized with a shock that a warm wetness was engulfing her vagina, slowly lubricating the moist passage. Fatty noticed it too, not wearing any condom he could feel her juices on his penis making it easier for the phallus to slide in and out of the orifice. He grunted as he unwillingly picked up the tempo, unable to resist the warm wet embrace.
Fatty Sniggered: "Come on you bitch, your mind says no, but I can feel your cunt dishing out its honey, my prick is practically swimming in your juices, come on, say you want it you bitch."
She tried to remain cold and silent. If they wanted her all they would get would be a cold lifeless fish. She tried to blank her mind out and maintain a poker face, willing her body to become dead and non-responsive.
Scar Face sneered: "Looks like you are not having much like, at least I got her nipples up." He again took her right nipple in his mouth, sucking like a vacuum cleaner on the erect tit.
Fatty was mad; "Fuck you, you want to see results let me show you some results." He stopped for a moment and inserted his index finger into her vagina, before bringing the slick and moist finger up for all to see. "Look at my dip-stick, she's well oiled all-right and take a whiff of that lovely scent." He brought the finger to his nose and inhaled, before sticking it in his mouth.
She felt betrayed by her body, as it reveled in the delicious sensations resulting from intercourse with this obscenity that her mind refused to accept. The truth was out, she was held virtual hostage by the physical cravings of her own body, which now had a will of its own. Denise turned her head in denial. The fact that they were gaining more pleasure from her own disobedient body's unbridled desire added to her silent, impotent rage and anger.
The silent, unseen battle raged on inside her between her mind and her body, the former trying to regain control over the later. Fatty picked up the tempo now and she groaned again as she felt the massive pile- driver ram into her like a piston.
The impact jarred her body like a rag doll and she was held down only by Scar Face's wondering hands and mouth as he thoroughly explored every nook and cranny of her body. Together they brought her close to the edge of an immense vortex. As the urgent need for release intensified within her, her defiant body rebelled against her will, quivering with desire and in anticipation of the delicious release which would follow.
She was tittering on the brink, hovering there as her mind willed her body to move from the epicenter. She clenched her teeth as another warm wave of pleasure spread from her loins, moving swiftly to engulf her. For what seemed like an eternity she hovered on the edge.
She soon realized it was a loosing battle. Bound and spread eagled she was utterly helpless. Scar Face had released a quivering nipple and slowly covered her armpit in wet ticklish kisses. The feeling was unbearable and goosebumps broke out on her sensitive ivory white skin. He laughed in amusement as he noticed the reaction and continued the act.
Unable to contain himself, Fatty quickened the tempo, plunging deeply into her. Each deep thrust drew her ever closer to the immense vortex. With a final thrust buried his phallus deeply in her, she expected him to withdraw but he stayed deeply embedded within her, finally tipping her over the edge.
Her body went rigid as the intense wave spread swiftly from the epicenter of her loins to merge with smaller ripples of pleasure that were already spreading across her body. Denise cried out in frustration as the intense orgasm gripped her, racking her body in spasms. Her vagina convulsed around Fatty's immense shaft, gripping it tightly, milking it as it squirted its warm load of jism deep into her. She could feel the warm jets of semen pumping strongly into her, in a never ending stream.
After long minutes, Fatty withdrew his flaccid penis from within her, leaving a trail of sperm. As her mind and body returned back to earth, she realized she had just experienced (or suffered) her first orgasm in years. Denise was mortified and offended that this had occurred at the hands of such freaks of nature. But she was not given time for thought or reflection.
Scar Face had shoved Fatty aside, eagerly unzipping his denims to unleash a long lean phallus. It was not as thick as Fatty's behemoth, but fully erected it was longer. Swiftly he slipped it into her warm, sperm slick vagina and began thrusting.
"No," Denise muttered. "I am too tired."
"Don't worry my pretty, I will crank you up again in no time," he laughed.
Her body had not recovered from the previous ordeal, and it floated helplessly beneath her, totally spent. A silent moan escaped her lips as he entered her. There was no respite as he began to pound her mercilessly.
In the mean time Fatty lay in a contented heap at the foot of the bed. With him out of the way, the rest of the pack closed in on her like a pack of wolves. Denise shuddered as warm wet lips took her nipples, coarse hands roamed her body, fondling her. One of them shoved his putrid tongue into her mouth, she could smell his pungent breath and taste his rancid saliva.
Thoroughly repulsed she bit down hard on the offensive invading organ, eliciting a yelp of pain from the poacher as he immediately withdrew. They stayed away from her mouth after that, but the rest of her body was still open to all takers.
Enraged, the poacher moved his mouth to her right nipple; "Bloody bitch, I'll show you who's the master here." He bit down savagely on the small sensitive tit, grinding it between his teeth. A searing pain ripped through Denise's body and an ear piercing scream escaped her lips.
Encouraged by her response he kept his hold on the tortured nipple. Small rivulets of blood trickled down the side of her breast to be lapped up immediately by other eager tongues and mouths. Her other tormentors subjected her other nipple to the same fate. With two pairs of mouth clamping down savagely on both her nipples simultaneously, the searing pain threatened to overwhelm Denise and she felt herself almost blacking out.
But the pain also had the effect of rudely awakening the rest of her tired body. A warm tingling sensation returned again to Denise. She was vaguely aware as Scar Face released his load into her. He clambered aside and another poacher eagerly took his place between her legs. It was the one who almost had his tongue bitten off; "Broken Tongue."
Roughly he mounted her and proceeded to pound her to the hilt relentlessly while Scar Face joined Fatty on the side-lines. Two down and Five to go, she mentally counted, it was going to be a long sexual marathon even with just one of them, with seven of them she wondered how she would survive the ordeal.
After several shoves, Broken Tongue withdrew his penis, it was slick with a mixture of semen from Fatty and Scar Face; "Ohh gross man, her cunt is filled to the brim with your fuck juice, lets see if the other hole is dry," he muttered, and promptly inserted the phallus into her anus.
Denise had never experienced anal sex before and the entry was painful and intense. Her face contorted in pain; "No, not there please, I beg you, not there," she pleaded desperately. But her words fell on deaf ears.
Bloody Tongue called over to Meg; "Hey Meg, come over hear and wash her cunt out with your mouth, you said you wanted a piece of her anyway."
"Gladly," Meg laughed. "Let's see what's so good about this Grade A bitch that you boys are so excited about. At the end of the day I'll show you that she is no different from all the other whores who just want to be fucked to death."
As Bloody Tongue pounded her anus, Meg positioned herself from above and lowered her tongue onto Denise's sperm soaked vagina. With Bloody Tongue in the way, she only had direct access to Denise's clitoris and the outer area of her vagina, but that was all she needed as she proceeded to lick the area like a dog. She seemed to know just where to concentrate, and how much pressure to apply as her tongue lashed out relentlessly at the sensitive clitoris, coaxing life back into the tired, spent organ.
Denise's eyes opened in shock amazement as she recognized a warm familiar need stirring within her for the second time that evening. No it cannot be, she thought, not another one so soon after the first, just having one orgasm a month was an overdose for her, let alone a second one in the same day. She closed her eyes and prepared for a second battle.
She might have been successful if they had taken her one at a time. But under a combined assault, with hands and mouths exploring her body, Bloody Mouth pounding her anus and Meg's tongue subjecting her clitoris to a sweet ticklish torment, her body was again aroused unbearably. This time it was worse as they worked her to a sexual frenzy.
Meg could taste the signs of her arousal and smiled: "Well, well, well, the little bitch is wet again, I can taste her honey."
"Good" said Bloody Tongue, "coz I want to come in her nice wet cunt, move over Meg."
Swiftly he repositioned his tool and began pounding into her vagina again. This, Denise's body seemed to welcome the assault, she again tried to will her body into a dormant state, determined not to give them anything but a lifeless rag doll, but she had already lost the first battle and she knew it was only a matter of time before they would again overwhelm her weakened defenses by their sheer numbers.
"Come on bitch come with me, I know you want it, come with me," raved Broken Tongue. But all she presented to him was her cold unyielding body.
Denise made up her mind not to give-in especially to this one. She greeted him with cold silence and maintained a blank expressionless face as he mounted her again. Bloody Tongue was infuriated and picked up the tempo, but she managed to keep the raging turmoil within her, allowing nothing to register on her face and body.
She did not know how long she could contain the fast building inferno, as her weakened defenses yielded all too easily to the urgent intense hunger that was fast consuming her loins, and prayed to at least get a small victory in denying Bloody Tongue the climax he wanted her to reach so badly.
Finally when they were both slick with sweat. Broken Tongue released his load into her. It was a small victory for her as she saw the frustration in his face. "Is it over already...so fast, its so small I hardly felt it.." she taunted him before his pack. His face turned a crimson red as the others howled with laughter.
But her brave words did not last as her next assailant approached her. He was bald and thin and he brought with him his little toy, a small vibrator. Smiling, Baldy promptly shoved his dick into her semen soaked interior. Denise had been able to win her last battle with Broken Tongue, but he had brought her closer to the edge, fueling the raging hunger that was again building within her. But Baldy would be her fourth in a row.
As he proceeded with the now familiar ritual of pounding her tired body, she realized her vagina was quickly becoming a cesspool of cum and semen which made it slick and wet. Each assailant would deposit his payload and add to the growing sewage of sperm that collected within, making the entry easier for the next assailant. She felt dirty and corrupted and her mind also turned to her period, when was it last and was she fertile this week?
Denise gasped as her reflections were interrupted by the touch of an unfamiliar new sensation. Baldy had applied the small pink vibrator to her vagina as he slowly pounded her. He was intently studying her face searching for any signs of arousal as he moved the small device in a circular motion around the mouth of her orifice.
The warm urgent need continued to build slowly within Denise, but she maintained her cold silent blank face, presenting him an apparently cold unresponsive body. She almost flinched as the small humming device found the sensitive nub of her clitoris, but caught herself in time. How long could she maintain this fa�ade, she thought, as the vibrator clung on persistently to the small nub, the ticklish sensation was unbearable and it quickly teased the quivering nub to a higher state of arousal.
In the mean time Baldy had closed his eyes as he relished the feel of her warm wet vagina around his dick. He muttered blindly; "Oh this is heavenly, so warm and tight... gotta slow down... gotta take me time..."
Denise thought she could feel his filthy member throbbing on the brink of release, but cursed under her breath as she realized Baldy had slowed his tempo and backed away from the early release. She realized that her chances of winning this round diminished with each second he continued with her as the vibrator was bringing her into another sexual frenzy. At this rate she would be reduced to a helpless quivering mound of flesh again in less than 5 minutes, she needed a change in tactics with this one.
She realized quickly that Baldy could not resist increasing his tempo again, as he approached the edge, he again started to pull out and slow the tempo as he had done in the past 3 occasions. This time however Denise did not let him do so, she willed her tired battered body forward and moved her vagina to quickly swallow-up the retreating penis. Baldy was taken by complete surprise; "What the fuck are you doing?"
He did not finish as Denise started rocking quickly back and forth, she could feel his dick quivering as he strove desperately to back away and bring it under his control. It was now or never, she moved downward powerfully and trapped the quivering penis completely in her warm wet prison. The delicious sensation quickly overwhelmed Baldy and she smiled in quiet triumph as she felt his warm jets shooting thickly into her.
Baldy's face was a mask of anger as the entire act had lasted barely 20 minutes. "You just wait you bitch, I will have a second round with you that will last all day." But he was interrupted as yet another beefy brute took his place between her tired legs.
Number 5, Denise mentally counted, only another 2 more after this and she would at least have won the first round. It was the only remaining shred of satisfaction she could muster for herself. She shut her eyes as she felt the now push of the phallus between her lips.
Excess sperm trickled down her crack as the faceless brute pushed himself in without any resistance. Denise could sense the pent-up desire that she had denied her hungering body stirring within her. It was like a time bombing ticking away and she knew that the longer she kept the raging torrent boxed-up within her, the stronger and more urgent the need became.
And so the sexual marathon continued. A fifth, followed by a sixth faceless assailant. Each slowly wore down her resolve. The tension within her grew and grew until she was like a tightly wound-up spring coil, quivering and ready for release at the right touch.
Her whole body ached from the constant prolonged assault, but was also on fire, unable to rest as it looked for the sweet release she was denying it. At times she almost thought she would lose control as her sexual tormentors teased her fevered body into a higher state of sexual frenzy. But each time, she bit down hard on her lower lip and the jolt of pain disrupted the inevitable allowing her to seize control of the raging monster within.
As the sixth poacher blew his load into her soaking vagina, a ray of hope filled Denise. It was the last mile of the marathon, she could see the finishing line, all she had to do was to last the distance within the final seventh man. He was a tall muscular black Negro. She had heard stories about the size of the black man's penis, and her worst fears were confirmed when she saw a fully erect black phallus. It was as thick as Fatty's penis and also as long as Scar Face's phallus.
Blacky was the seventh and final man in the pack, she noted. The bed sheets were now soaked in a combination of sweat and semen and clung wetly to her back and sides. He said nothing as he quietly inserted the monster into her. She moaned as her small orifice was stretched beyond its limits to accommodate the mammoth phallus. It was huge and filled her to the brim. So tight was the fit that the pressure squeezed excess sperm out of her vagina.
As he began to slide wetly in and out of her, the initial pain of the entry was quickly replaced by the familiar stirrings of the beast within her. Denise's defiant body relished the delicious urgent sensations. Bloody Tongue moved forward to get a better view of the big black phallus as it slid in and out of the white, pink orifice. "Come on, the bitch is almost there" he cried as Denise was unable to contain a shudder that broke the surface of the raging storm below.
The tide grew again within her as Blacky picked up the tempo. On and on he went, but she held on at the very edge. The minutes became an hour and she was amazed by his amazon like stamina. As the delicious sensation threatened to overwhelm here again, she bit her now broken and bloody lips, but this time the pain only added to the intensity of the need as her body was reduced into a quivering mound of pleasure. She shut her eyes trying to block out all sensation.
Blacky blurted out: "Guys I cant last, oh god... its gonna happen soon." Encouraged she again tilted her orifice to receive him more fully attempting to trigger his orgasm sooner. But the act also brought her closer to her own release.
Suddenly her eyes snapped open as she felt jolts of electricity engulfing her bruised nipples. Bloody Tongue had returned with two small pink vibrators and had anchored each to her erect nipples. He smiled at the look of surprise on her face; "You were not expecting this were you, well there's more to come." He touched a button which increased the intensity of the small humming device, sending a surge of pleasure through Denise's body.
Taken off-guard, Denise had no time to mentally prepare for the delicious wave that engulfed her upper torso. They had found a back-door in and the bolts of pleasure spread swiftly to merge with the pent-up desire that had accumulated between her legs, merging into a mammoth tidal wave that could not be contained, tipping her finally over the edge.
She let out a cry of hopeless frustration as every muscle in her tired body tensed, almost gratefully receiving the release that she had denied it in the past hours. The build-up to her second climax for the day had been slow, which added to the intensity and length of the final release.
Fist clenched, her back arched as the wave of fire and pleasure surged forward taking her. Her Vagina walls contracted in spasms around Blacky's huge phallus, milking it as it sent warm jets of semen into her in an apparently never ending stream.
Damn! Damn! Damn! she cursed herself as she could here the room erupt in peels of laughter and claps. She was still caught in the throes of the wave of pleasure when Baldy clamped a third vibrator onto her swollen nub. Denise gasped sharply as the first wave was immediately replaced by another of higher intensity. Blacky had removed his now flaccid phallus and all eyes were focused on her still convulsing pussy as it tried to grip a phallus that was no longer there.
She realized with a shock that this was the first time she was experiencing multiple orgasms as each wave of pleasure was replace by a higher more intense wave. The vibrator on her clitoris hummed at a higher pitch as Baldy switch the device to maximum setting, sending it into a final series of quick convulsive spasms. So intense were the contractions that excess semen and vagina fluids sprayed from the petal like lips as they opened and shut on their own.
It seemed an eternity before her sweat slick body finally came to rest on the damp mattress. She felt a warm thick wet substance on the mattress. As Denise opened her eyes, a scene of chaos and death greeted her. The headless body of Blacky lay between her legs, she could see bright red blood spurting from his severed carotid artery, onto the bed.
The other members of the wolf pack were in a similar state and the room was a slaughterhouse. As her eyes adjusted to the chaos, she noticed 3 tribesmen standing with bloodied weapons at the door. She recognized the small skulls they wore around the neck, which were identical to the ones in her earlier encounter with the natives.
One of them came forward towards her and again she closed her eyes waiting for the end to come. At least it would be a quick release from this living hell, she only prayed for a quick and painless execution.
Instead, she felt gentle hands untie her shackles, helping her up. A water bottle was presented to her chaffed lips and she drank hungrily. She was too tired and exhausted to walk, and was vaguely aware as the natives placed her on a make shift stretcher, before she drifted again into oblivion.
Next she awoke, Denise found herself on clean sheets in a hospital. She was suffering from prolonged exposure and dehydration, as well as the severe trauma she had suffered at the hands of the poachers. But she had survived. She found some comforting satisfaction in the fact that they were all dead. It now remained for her to pick up the pieces of her life and move on with her career.