Stranded Ch. 05

I knew it was useless to beg, to cry; pleading with Arioch never got me anything. Instead I dug my nails painfully into my palm and tried to return the same cool demeanor he displayed. It wasn't easy when each slight movement jostled the welts I'd received, lighting my skin on fire. One glance into my eyes and his lit up maliciously.

"She's all yours boys, but don't kill her. I put too much work into this one to look for another," he announced dismissively as he turned his back and walked towards the kitchen. Logically it shouldn't have hurt me, he was nothing more than my captor, the enemy, and yet, it did hurt. I had listened to him tell me over and over how much he loved me, how important I was, how he wanted to take care of me, only to toss me to his cousins like tossing scraps to his dogs. It wasn't as if I had believed him, I mean, it was possible he did love me. What he thought love was anyways. But to be so easily disregarded still stung.

Judas was the first one to reach out for me, the blood down the side of his face already dried. I took a step back, the heat from the crackling fire nearly toasting my buns. I reached blindly behind me and almost gave a cry of joy when my hand encircled the fire poker. I pulled it out and swung it around to keep them at a healthy distance. It wasn't a baseball bat, it was something much better than that; something that could do some real damage.

"Don't touch me," I growled. I was fully prepared to fight until it was no longer physically possible to do so.

"That's not gonna happen here, cupcake." Marcus extended his hand and I swung, very narrowly missing his arm before he managed to pull it back.

"I will hit you with this and it will hurt," I warned them. They stayed just out of the way of the poker. John and Judas began moving to either side of me. Once I swung at one of them, I knew it would be over. The other two would wrestle my weapon away before I'd be able to swing it again.

"Put the poker down then maybe we'll go easy on you," Marcus bargained. My eyes darted between the three, I could see the lust burning in their eyes and I knew there was no way they were going to go easy on me no matter what I did. I'd heard that way too often lately and it never seemed to work in my favor. Especially not after the knot I'd given to Judas or how spurned Marcus was about the entire ordeal of tradition being broken; as if it was somehow my fault. I hadn't asked Sam to make those arrangements, though I was grateful he did.

I could maybe take out one of them, but which one? The biggest one? The one who looked the meanest? Or the angriest?

"You're all liars!" I shouted swinging the poker in a short half circle to show I meant business. Arioch was still gone but the others didn't seem to notice or even care. There was a sinking feeling in my gut as the noose came into my line of sight.

"You're gonna wear down eventually, it's pointless to fight." Marcus announced. They began to take turns reaching for me so that I was constantly swinging the poker, arms getting tired. If I was going down, I was going to take one of them with me. I feigned for Judas, but at the last minute I swung the poker backwards and was rewarded with a string of curses from John as I made impact. He pulled it from my grasp with ease and then I was defenseless. Marcus grabbed me first with a strong hand around my throat, pressing my shoulders back against the wooden mantel, the heat of the flames licking my naked flesh.

"Necks are such fragile things," Marcus announced, squeezing for emphasis his nail leaving crescent marks in my flesh. I could still breathe, but immediately began feeling lightheaded, almost lethargic. My hands that had been trying to pry Mark's free, fell to my sides uselessly, too heavy to hold up a moment longer.

"Where's the tough little bitch now, huh?" Marcus demanded, pulling me close enough our noses were practically touching. His free hand reached between my legs and I was helpless to stop him.

"No wonder Sammy wanted to keep you all to himself!" I closed my eyes shamefully. My legs finally collapsed, and Marcus had no other choice but to let go and catch me. The other two didn't miss a step, Judas grabbed my ankles and John shoved the coffee table out of the way as they lowered me to the floor. My head pulsed as I felt the blood flow return to it. It took several minutes before I became more aware and by then John was pinning my wrists while Marcus positioned himself between my legs; his jeans chafing against my skin. I wiggled, attempting to reposition my legs so that I could kick him off. Marcus didn't hesitate to respond with one quick punch to my stomach. It was as if the very air was immediately sucked out of my lungs and I puked in my mouth a little. He kept his fist raised in warning and I stopped fighting.

He unfastened his jeans, shoving them down along with his boxers. He wasn't very big, perhaps even on the lower side of average, but that didn't stop him from sinking his entire length into me. He found little resistance, the struggle had done all the prep work for him. Marcus grabbed the back of my thighs, forcing my knees together and closer to my face as he began fucking me. I grimaced and whimpered, tendons pushed to their limits, but he only covered my mouth and continued slamming his pelvis into me at a frenzied pace. Large fat tears rolled down my cheeks as sweat gathered on his brow. He placed my legs against his shoulder so that his free hand could reach around and squeeze one of my breasts, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. I pulled at my arms, but it was useless, and I finally resigned myself to my fate. Marcus suddenly seized, hips flexing as he emptied himself inside me. The heat of it, the feeling of it coating my insides as his cock swelled and twitched made me cum instantly, milking the last few drops as he shuddered. There was something raw and primitive about a man Cumming inside me; I never quite knew if it was the risk or sheer sensation that excited me most. He gasped, pulling himself out and I finally let my led filled legs fall with a loud thump. His cheeks were flushed, and he nodded to his brothers with a lazy grin.

"Careful of this one, her pussy's like a vise grip," Marcus warned with a laugh.

"That's not the hole I'm after," Judas announced through clenched teeth. I didn't have to wait long before I discovered exactly what he meant. Together he and John flipped me over like a piece of meat, laying me over the footstool John had kicked closer. With my stomach pressed against the velvety fabric, my head and legs dangled from the other ends.

"Please, no... I'm sorry." But my plea fell on deaf ears. Judas unfastened his jeans, pulling a small tube from his pocket as he did. I caught a glance of the swirls of purples and knew immediately it was lube. As Sam had learned, I was no virgin. I didn't have time to dwell on it long before John grabbed my head and brought my attention back to his lap. He was standing at full attention, his jeans pulled down mid-thigh, peeled open to reveal himself and I gasped, it was too big. There was no way I was going to fit all that in my mouth! He walked forward on his knees to bring his cock closer and I pushed back against his thighs. At the same time, I could feel Judas's hands slide between my cheeks, leaving a thick cold trail of lube in its wake and my brain began to panic. Anal was not something I enjoyed, no matter how many different times I tried it. Every man thought he was going to be the one to change my mind. As if his dick was somehow magical and it wouldn't feel like I was having something rammed in my ass. But it never changed, it was always painful, always uncomfortable and I wished I could bury my head under the sand until it was over. John brought my attention back to the present as he forced my head even lower towards his groin, the warm tip of his penis bumping against my chin.

"Open up..." he sang as he slapped the head against my cheek a few times. I shook my head as I felt Judas spread my cheeks wide and I began to fight with renewed vigor. Judas leaned his forearm on my lower back, pinning me in place as he pressed against my rectum, forcing himself slowly inside me. Every muscle in me fought against the invasion, but that only seemed to encourage him to push harder. As I opened my mouth to scream John shoved his cock down my throat, successfully muffling it. John grabbed my wrists, twisting my arms around so that Judas could hold them behind my back, using them like handles to impale me. My legs shook as I danced on the edge of pleasure and pain. Judas found his rhythm while my mouth watered as I struggled to breathe around John. His hands tangled in my hair and my stomach flexed as I gagged on his girth, I knew he wasn't going to fit, at least not comfortably. The corners of my mouth felt like they would split open at any moment. I had no choice but to surrender, to relax and let them take what they pleased. They were determined to break me, wear me down and I was well past the point of exhaustion. Foam globs of thick spit began gathering at the base of his cock as he stretched my throat open more with every thrust, stopping only when I engulfed his entire length.

I sputtered and gasped as I sucked in precious air when he pulled out, moaning in pain. The sensation of them both filling me was beginning to override my senses until carnal need overwhelmed my brain. They both plowed into me, Judas's free hand gripped underneath my hips, almost holding my entire lower half off the ground as he drove himself into me mercilessly. John began fucking my throat as if we were doing some type of breath play, slobber gathered on my face, it felt as if every time he had himself down my throat, he held it there longer and longer each time. I couldn't protest, I couldn't push or pull, I was just an instrument of their pleasure. I could feel tension gathering low in my gut, a tsunami of endorphins now pumping in my veins. Then a cataclysmic orgasm swept through me, every single muscle seized, my vision turned gray and my lungs screamed for air as my body forgot how to breathe. The more I convulsed the faster they began to fuck me, both panting as they hurried to find their own release. Just as my body began to relax, my sight began to darken and the last thing I felt before passing out was them pumping me full of cum.

I came to and found myself drowning again. I started to panic as I tried to open my eyes, tried to reach out and find my ground only to discover my arms pinned to my sides and a heavy wet cloth being held over my face, obstructing my view. I desperately turned my head side to side, but it didn't budge. Only when the onslaught of water stopped, and the cloth was removed was I able to breathe again. I found myself on my back on the coffee table, my head hanging over the edge just barely, the metal tub beneath it. Marcus stood over me, a large clear pitcher in his hand, half of it was already gone. Judas kneeled beside the table, the dripping wet hand towel hanging in his hands. Clumps of wet hair stuck to my face, the rest was dripping into the bucket, John straddled my waist, keeping my legs pinned while he held my wrists down against the top of the coffee table. My eyes darted around the room and my gaze met with Arioch's. The cool, expressionless demeanor gave the impression of indifference but there was a dark look in his eyes that made the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

"Don't think we're going to let you escape all the fun that easily, we plan to fuck you into a cum covered mess."

"The damaged broken ones are always the most fun to play with," Arioch agreed, sipping from the whiskey bottle. Is that what I was? Damaged? Broken? I guess that made sense, why else would I be so turned on? Maybe the universe was punishing me for my depraved thoughts by giving me exactly what the darkest part of my soul craved. The sweet irony of it left a bitter taste behind. How would I begin to explain this to anyone? That was assuming that someday I would manage to escape.

"I think we should make her beg for it," Judas announced. Beg? I wanted to laugh in his face, but I found I couldn't muster the energy for it.

"Yes...beg us to fuck you." Marcus instructed. I shook my head, already near tears.

"You've gotten what you wanted, why can't you just leave me alone?"

"We're not even close to being finished with you yet."

"Beg us!" growled Judas, squeezing my wrists. I shook my head once more; Marcus nodded to John and the heavy cloth was back over my face.

I kicked my legs, slamming my heels into the wooden surface of the table as I turned my head from side to side, trying to break free. I thought I could hold my breath, that was until Marcus began pouring the water. The cloth stuck to my face like cling wrap and the pressure was slow, but it felt as though I was being assaulted by a fire hose; logic meant little as flashbacks of drowning the first time flashed in my head. My chest began to ache as panic consumed me. I had died. Another thought occurred, maybe I never even really woke up and this was all some private hell. The pure helplessness of the situation settled over me. Holding my breath was very ineffectual at the angle my head was being pulled, water went straight up my nose, the barrier of the washcloth doing little to stop it. I coughed and choked and sputtered as I tried to plead with him to make it stop. When John finally pulled the rag free, I coughed up the water, vision blurred, and my teeth began to chatter from the cold.

"Ready to beg now?" Marcus asked sweetly. I nodded, the burst of tears leaving warm trails down my temple. They looked at me with expectant eyes as I struggled to force the words out.

"P-P-Please." Marcus laughed and shook his head.

"Not that easily, you have to say the entire thing. You have to beg us to fuck you!" he demanded. It felt demeaning, but I was certain that was their point. They wanted to wear me down and it was working. How long did the other wives endure before they gave in? I felt worn-out, but most of all, I simply didn't want to fight anymore.

"Please fuck me." Just saying the words made me cringe, it was beyond humiliating. I'd never had to beg for sex in my entire life.

"Hmm, I don't think everyone heard you, you're going to have to beg a little louder than that."

"Please, I did what you asked!" He looked to John who lifted the hand towel back up and all my remaining bravado faltered.

"Please fuck me, use me, abuse me, I don't care; whatever you want, just no more water!" I cried. If Sam had neighbors, I was certain they would have heard me. I couldn't stand it anymore, I could be good if it meant no more drowning. Marcus smiled, pleased with his results and he set the pitcher down.

"Excellent, I think we can manage that," He nodded to his brothers

Judas stood, pulling me to my feet then grabbed me, his arms immediately encircling my torso, trapping my arms at my sides. I wasn't fighting but it appeared he wasn't taking any chances. Judas squeezed tightly, making me gasp for air. No matter what I did, I couldn't seem to get enough oxygen. Marcus pulled the noose down, helping secure it around my throat before pulling it snug. I was forced to the tips of my toes as Marcus hoisted and Judas finally let go. My hands flew to the rope, desperately trying to claw it free but I only ended up taking layers of skin from my neck. I could still breathe, but I was dancing dangerously along the edge of consciousness. Judas took advantage of my disposition and slapped my breasts, watching them sway from the force with a child-like grin. I cried out, but it sounded gargled, then his hand came down again, turning my pale white skin several shades of red. I lashed out, catching Judas with my nails and he quickly turned from playful to angry.

"That is the third time you've made me bleed tonight, you filthy heathen." There was that word again, heathen. I was quite civilized, especially in comparison to their backward ways. I bared my teeth and snarled; if he wanted a heathen, then I'd give him a heathen. He walked behind me, and Marcus pulled the rope a little tighter. I could feel my eyes begin to bulge as Judas grabbed my wrists, pulling my arms behind my back, securing them with what felt like more rope.

"Up on the stool," Judas directed. My legs shook, but with his help I managed to step up, the noose loosening slightly but it was enough that I took deep breaths unsure how long I'd be able to breathe so freely.

"Are you going to hang me?" I asked bravely, voice hoarse.

"Maybe a little, but we won't kill you...at least we'll try not to." Marcus replied. I bit my lower lip to keep it from trembling. With the small stool I now stood at perfect eye level with John, gasping as I felt his fingers slide into me.

"Such a wicked thing, she's already soaked again and hotter than a furnace!"

John pulled his hand away, his fingers glistening with my juices and he smiled devilishly before shoving his sausage like fingers down my throat. I heaved, trying to purge his invading digits. The taste itself wasn't awful, simply a cruel reminder of my own body's betrayal. I gasped when he pulled away and whimpered as I teetered on the stool.

"Careful, wouldn't want to ruin that pretty neck," John chided, leaning his head down and taking a breast into his mouth at the same time Judas plunged himself into me. I tried desperately to disassociate but I was the harp and they knew just which strings to pluck to make me sing. The only thing that kept me from leaning too far forward and choking myself was Judas's hands on my hips. I glanced over at Arioch, wishing for him to put an end to it. I wanted him to keep his promise. Or was it Sam's' promise? Is that why he seemed to feel nothing? A sharp pain sliced through my consciousness, Johns teeth sank into the soft globes of flesh. I let out a high-pitched scream, but Judas reached forward and wrapped his hand around my mouth, muffling it.

"Screaming, crying, begging, none of those things are going to help you tonight. They will only wear you down faster and we still have an entire night to ourselves," Marcus announced.

I felt Judas finish, his grip loosening as he filled me, and I didn't hesitate for a second, I leapt off the stool with the hopes I'd snap my neck on the way down but instead I ended up swinging, toes scraping against the wooden floor. The others seemed momentarily stunned, it was Arioch who immediately jumped up from his chair and cut the rope in one fluid movement. I landed on my butt, sharp pain radiating from my tailbone. He had the noose off within seconds, but my hands remained secured behind my back as he lifted me into his arms and shook me.

"What the fuck were you thinking!? It is not your life to take, you had no right pulling something this stupid!" he scolded angrily.

"I could always fetch the branding iron," Marcus offered. Arioch shook his head.
"I said you can fuck her, not mutilate her. Do not mistake my participation in tradition as weakness boys, I will not be bullied." he sneered. Arioch turned back to me, cradling me in his arms as he brought his face closer to mine.

"If you ever try to leave me like that again, you will not like the consequences should you fail. Let this be your one and only warning." I thought surely, I would gain some small reprieve, but he only lowered me back to the ground and returned to his chair.

They kept me on the floor after that, each of them taking turns, abusing every hole. Sometimes even two of them at a time. I quickly lost count, senses numbing over as I was lost to the overwhelming sensations. Marcus kept true to his word, by the end of the night I was nothing more than a cum covered mess and I fell asleep satiated.