Lost in Colombia

Both men eventually came, filling me at both ends. My ass felt loose and sloppy. My mouth was coated with the thick, musky flavor and my throat felt sticky. More men took their turns at me, flipping me first on my stomach and fucking me from behind while feeding me from the front. The next pair would flip me on my back while one would spread my legs. I would writhe whorishly, my hard cock waving back and forth, putting on a show for their cameras. Another would straddle my face and feed me his cock.

At one point, the cameras were aimed between my legs, and with the light I was able to see my new rapist kneel between them. My eyes went wide and I gasped. He looked to be very young, perhaps barely 18. His body was slim and hairless, his hair long and curly around his youthful face. I began to struggle again, not wanting to be fucked by this young man. It felt shameful and wrong. I didn't want this young man asserting his dominance over me. Other hands pushed me back and held me down. He looked a bit apprehensive, but the others began shouting encouragements, and he lifted his chin and sneered at me before sliding his long, thin cock inside my hole.

I began to cry again and fell back in surrender...And then I gave him the ride of the day, arching and thrusting, twisting and writhing. The men cheered and shouted. Nobody filled my mouth with their cock, and all attention was focused on the youth. Two men held my legs wide for him, but I would have held them myself. I rocked and squealed, feeling his skinny cock stirring around inside my ass.

He pulled out and I nearly cried in disappointment, but I was rolled over on my side, and he spooned me from behind and fed me his cock that way. It was easier for me this way to rock back and forth, fucking his cock. His hand reached in front of my, fingers sliding up my chest and finding my nipples, rolling and tugging them, teasing me. He knew he was teasing me, as I reacted each time. My cock jumped and began to drip copiously. I writhed shamelessly as his cock perfectly ground against my prostate with each thrust.

His hand moved down again, gently caressing my belly before finding my angry cock. I whimpered and begged him to please stroke me. I know he didn't understand my words, but he understood my body. His fingers formed a loose grip around my dripping cock, and I slid it rapidly back and forth between his fingers while he fucked my ass.

We both came with huge cries. I knew I was his first, and he was effectually mine. He slipped his cock from my now gaping hole, and before I had time to protest, another cock filled me; Thicker, harder, longer, and belonging to a larger, rougher man. I was rolled over again and pummeled.

Hours went by. I'm not sure how many, or even how many days. My thoughts hadn't returned to my missed tour bus, and by now, missed ship in a long time. I hadn't even thought of my wife. All I could think of was how I was being raped, fucked, humiliated and shamed...And even more shamefully to admit...I was not protesting any more. I had a hard time admitting to myself that I was enjoying what was happening to me.

I don't know how many cocks I took. At one point I was allowed to doze off for a bit. I don't know for how long. I was awakened with a cock pressed to my lips, and the whole thing began again. More cocks in my ass. More in my mouth. I was fucked whilst on all fours. I was fucked while on my back. I was fucked while laying on my side. I was forced to sit on cock while the rapist laid on his back and ride him that way until he came, writhing and twisting on him to bring him to orgasm. I was also allowed to cum several more times. As far as I could tell, the angelic young man never fucked me again. I'm sure they got hours and hours of footage of me being a complete cock whore.

Eventually they tired of their game. Eventually several of the men left. Two were left with me and one tossed me my clothes. I was exhausted and shaking as I struggled to dress myself. One of them helped me to my feet. I had trouble standing. The led me out the back door of the small house and put me into the back seat of a battered car. I closed my eyes and breathed a sigh of relief as the car drove off.

After about 10 minutes of driving, the car pulled over. My door was opened and I practically fell out onto the sidewalk. I struggled on all fours to get to my feet, but the car sped away before I could even rise.

I finally did and looked around, my eyes still adjusting to the sunlight. I was still lost in Colombia.