I’ve not given much cum in her mouth thought to sex before the Rape Run, and certainly didn’t think that with my level head I could be reduced to a state where I was desperate to orgasm, but in my heart of hearts I know now I would yield willingly domination to someone who would grant me that relief. The unwanted and involuntary expression of my true sexuality has taken place just as I’d always feared. I have lost control of my own body entirely. I’m breathing heavily. My naked skin glistens with sweat, which combines with the welts from the whipping so I look as though I’ve been oiled and grilled on a barbecue. My stomach muscles and the more intimate internal workings of my abdomen tense and relax, fluttering and rippling from no commands of mine, and sometimes when the stimulation gets too much the noises come from me. My moans and groans sound wanton, sexual, even to my denying ears. The whorish sounds caused by my torment counterpoint the agonized cries that Elionara, close by, emits because of hers. An impaling that arouses me out of my mind seems tame compared to how she must feel having the sharp wooden spine from that horse knifing into her sex. I thought she might last hours, but it only took fifteen minutes for the already-exhausted Elionara to be crying out in pain, and by half an hour she was weeping and calling out to the men who come to watch us. BDSM When she has the chance in between her uncontrollable moans of pain to vocalize human words, Elionara calls for Salarin, titty fuck begging him to come and fuck her. She is not the only woman in the camp humbling herself by pleading. I too have abandoned all dignity and am calling to the men who pass by, begging for anyone just to touch my clit enough to push me over into the white eternity of orgasm. But we are Runners, to be made an example of rather than used by any common Joe, so when after an eternity someone does come to attend to us, it is two of the elite faction leaders of Aghara-Penthay, Hunters, who approach our frames. Cronorgan, the obese man with the shaven head known as The Master, walks beside the grey haired Salarin, The Sadist. Salarin has already said he was done with me. So it’s Cronorgan, and not the Alien, who will have his fun with me next. Following dutifully behind the two leaders comes some of the Hunters’ retinues – a couple of men to assist in whatever humiliations are intended. I try to straighten and prepare myself, gagged but the group arrives at a time when the vibrator is stimulating my clit, so the heroine of the Republic greets this second Hunter with a sluttish moan of desire. Cronorgan stands with his hands on his hips and surveys my sweat-soaked, writhing form. “Do you want to cum, Melena?” he asks me. His voice is rather high in proportion to his body size, which (unlike the tall man) gives him a camp air. Oh I do, I want to cum more than anything, and I’m not above whining desperately to show it. “That’s my son, cum in her mouth never settling… Well practice hard!” mom says. "I've thought about it a lot these last few days." There is a combination of both guilt and exhilaration rushing through their minds. “Yes, I agree with that, she added. I didn’t plant the domination seed at all.” he complained, really just to himself at titty fuck this point. The native liked the feeling of her pussy around his cock and he left it there for a few moments. He couldn’t make eye contact with her as she handed the papers over, and he was sweating profusely. Daddy had balls full of cum. Finally, Lisa was ready, and after showing both boys that she also had a mouthful of cum, we began kissing, sharing our boyfriend’s cum with each other, swirling it together. Her clit burned and itched, every few seconds a random pair gagged of body parts suffered an unbearably painful shock, and the blindfold and ear muffs cut her off BDSM from the world. Her chest and stomach were the same light gray skin color.