Vile Bitch & 1/2

"They told us to shut the fuck up -- not talk to each other," Vile Bitch sneered with a defiant look.

One of the guys slapped her, obviously because she had said something to me, and she snapped back at him, likely informing him -- and I'm sure with Dargi expletives -- that she was just telling me not to say anything because I didn't understand their stupid fucking language. The guy looked like he would slap her again, but for some reason changed his mind. Two terrorists got in the front seat of our car and we started to drive away into the foothills.

The ride was rough. There was a Jeep in front of us, and an old pickup in back, each with three or four terrorists in them. I knew that I couldn't let them get us to their camp, and was about to break off the window handle and see if I could expose a sharp edge to cut the plastic cuffs off with when Vile Bitch elbowed me. I forgot that she was a magician -- or at least that she did magic tricks, of sorts, as part of her act. She was loose from her cuffs and was motioning for me to move my hands over to hers, one of which held a pin. While looking straight ahead and never moving her hands in front of her she soon had my cuffs off too. Because of the rough ride the guys in front never noticed anything.

I carefully watched the road to see if there was a good location for an escape. In a desolate area we got a break. The pickup truck behind us honked, and our driver stopped.

Someone from the pickup truck walked up to the driver's window of our car and chatted for a while; then he got in the front seat of our vehicle and we took off again, with the pickup left behind. Vile Bitch mouthed "Mechanical trouble" to me.

When we got to a bend in the road where the lead Jeep was out of site I took out my plastic gun and shot the two front seat passengers in the head. I put the gun to the head of the driver and told Vile Bitch to tell him to stop -- I guess she did because he did. Once the vehicle was motionless I shot the driver in the head.

The gun wasn't the quietest in the world. When we heard the distinctive sounds of activity both in front and in back of us, I grabbed one of the AK-47s and an extra clip from one of the dead terrorists, grabbed Vile Bitch by the hand, and took off into the dense forest lining the road. Smart woman that she is, while I was picking up the AK-47 and extra clip Vile Bitch grabbed her backpack out of the trunk, flipped off her high heels and pulled a pair of sandals out of the backpack and put them on.

We moved wordlessly through the forest for hours, until it was so dark that it was dangerous. We moved away from civilization because we expected the terrorists to think that we went the other way.

When we stopped, Vile Bitch pulled some power bars out of her backpack and started munching. "Are you going to offer me one Vile Bitch?" I asked, trying to be polite.

"These are for me, asshole," she snarled while continuing eating.

I grabbed one from her hand and put the whole thing in my mouth. "Keep your fucking hands off my stuff," she yelled.

"Listen, Vile Bitch. I'm going to tell you this once -- and once only. We are in a dangerous survival situation. We're going to have to work together, share everything -- including the $5,000 worth of rubles in my money belt -- and lay low, without any yelling, if we are to have any chance to survive. Do you realize what's in store for you if these terrorists get you to their camp? You can't be that fucking stupid not to know, can you? Especially after your expletive filled tirades against their cause, making you look like a fucking Russian government puppet," I said in a firm but calm voice.

She said nothing, but obviously her wheels were turning. I continued: "Until we get back home -- certainly a long shot at best -- I am not taking orders from you. Our situation, being one of survival, is where I have the expertise, and the weapon. We will consult about what to do, but ultimately you will follow my lead."

"Or what, dipshit," she snarled.

"Or I'll go off on my own and let you fend for yourself. Or better yet," I continued with a diabolical grin, "I'll exchange you for my freedom -- I'm sure that the terrorists would love that deal. I'm not the one that called Mohammed names, like you did."

"You wouldn't dare," she spit.

"Don't be sure of that," I snapped. "Now what do you have in your backpack. Even though it's summer we could get cold tonight."

Vile Bitch had some clothes in her backpack, along with the power bars, and a dopp kit. Obviously the clothes didn't fit me, but I put some over me, she put some on, and we wordlessly survived the night without too much discomfort.

I actually convinced Vile Bitch, although she had a number of profanity-laced retorts during our "discussion," that we needed to find a sympathetic household, buy some different clothes and food from them, and that she needed to change her appearance drastically since she stood out like a turd in a swimming pool. That's when I found out that her bizarre "coiffure" was a wig interwoven with her real hair. I cut her wig off using the small scissors in her dopp kit. Then she left me for about a half hour while she washed all of the makeup off her face, using a facial brush, and facial cream, from her dopp kit, at a stream that we had come across. She threw away her normal outfit and put on a jogging suit from her backpack.

When she returned from the stream I almost didn't recognize her. Despite her chopped hair she looked like a real human being. In fact, like a very attractive female human. When I said "Wow, you look nice," her reply was typical crude Vile Bitch -- "Fuck you! Keep your dick in your pants."

When she made that comment I thought for a second -- and then decided that before we made it back I would likely fuck her!

It took another full day, at which point we were both hungry, before we found what we were looking for. A Russian family living out in the middle of nowhere willing to sell us clothes and food. The woman of the family also cut Vile Bitch's hair evenly so that she looked completely human.

Vile Bitch wanted to stay with the family for several days but I told her that I wasn't 100% sold on their trustworthiness. Even though they didn't know who we were they were suspicious, and maybe they thought they'd get a bonanza by advising others of our whereabouts. Therefore in the middle of the second night I woke Vile Bitch up and got her to come outside. All of our food, a blanket, and extra clothing were packed in her backpack and a duffle bag that I had purchased from the family and which also included my plastic gun and the AK-47 with extra clip.

Vile Bitch didn't agree with my decision to leave. When she spat some profanities at me and then turned to go back into the house I grabbed her from behind with my hand over her mouth, gagged her, tied her hands together, and her feet together, slung her over my right shoulder, and carried the two bags in my left hand. Seeing how she had gotten out of the plastic cuffs in the car I wasn't sure that her hands and feet would stay tied too long, so I hurried through the woods as best I could.

When I sensed her hands getting free I stopped. It was in a small rise, with lots of pine needles on the ground. I held her freed hands with one of mine while I spread a tarp out -- from the duffle bag -- on the pine needles. With her feet still tied I sat her down on it, pulled down her gag, and listened to a long string of invectives from her before I'd had enough.

Finally I put my hand over her mouth, avoiding getting bitten, and pulled her back into my chest while I had my free arm around her neck.

"This is the last time I'm telling you, Vile Bitch. I'm in charge of getting us out of here; when it comes to our safety you'll do as I say. I'm not taking orders from you until we get back home, and at the rate you're going we never will," I whispered into her ear.

When I released her mouth she said "Fuck you," and tried to wiggle free. I turned her on her stomach and held her hands above her head, pulled her pants down, and started spanking her. She tried her best to get free and swore a blue streak, but didn't scream. When I stopped and asked "Are you ready to do as I say?"

She retorted "Is that all you got, dickless?"

With that I moved my hand back toward her bare ass, but because she was squirming around my fingers came into contact with her pussy. It was soaking wet, and not from sweat or environmental moisture.

With that I got incredibly hard -- I hadn't been laid in weeks, and unless Vile Bitch had something going on that she could have kept secret from her entire crew, she hadn't been either.

"Why are you wet, Vile Bitch?" I asked her while maintaining two fingers in contact with her pussy.

"Because you make me sick you fucking asshole," she shot back, squirming even more.

In a nanosecond my lust overcame me. I didn't really have any time for rational thought to interfere with my lust, but I do remember all of "we're probably gonna die anyway; she is so fucking hot; she needs to be punished; she's asking for it; I should jettison this fucking job, anyway," running through my mind, probably with dozens of other sound bites that I can't remember.

While holding down her ass with my right hand, I undid my belt and pulled down my pants with my left hand -- hard to do since my dick was so hard and straight that I almost couldn't get my boxers past it with just one hand. Vile Bitch figured out what I was doing and started swearing at me at an even higher level than before, and squirmed even more. While she is athletic and strong for her size I weigh twice as much, am three times as strong, and I was even more motivated than she was.

Once my cock was ready I fingered her pussy some more, found her clit and began gently massaging it. Gently handling her clit was hard to do given her level of writhe. Interspersed with her swearing and thrashing were moans, especially once I started on her clit. I thought that she was ready, and I knew that I was, so I lifted up her crotch area with my left hand, moved her thighs apart as far as I could considering that her feet were still tied loosely together, and shoved my cock all the way into her pussy in one thrust.

Vile Bitch let out a low growl once I was buried in her tight pussy -- and I mean tight. It had to be more than her feet being loosely tied together -- she had one snug cunt, there! Then began the most memorable sex of my life.

Vile Bitch continued to swear under her breath and twist and buck her pelvis. However, whether intentionally or not, her crotch action was turning me on more than I ever had been before. Once she started squeezing her pc muscles I completely lost it, and at first was chastising myself for coming too early, because despite how I despised Vile Bitch I strangely wanted her to really enjoy it. Not to worry -- I had so much cum saved up that I probably squirted into her ten times, and about halfway through she started having the mother of all orgasms. Everything from her low groans, squeaks, and convulsions told me that this was the hardest anyone had ever orgasmed in my experience.

Once I stopped cumming and she stopped spasmming I stayed inside her as we both groaned. I didn't pull out until I was completely flaccid. As soon as I removed my arm from holding up her waist she collapsed and just lay there. I lay right beside her. I must have fallen asleep or passed out because the next thing that I knew Vile Bitch was poking me in the ribs and saying "Get up asshole -- I thought that you wanted to get away from the comfortable cabin that we were sleeping in."

Vile Bitch was now fully dressed, the restraints on her hands and feet were gone, everything was packed up, and she was ready to go. "Get your little dick back in your pants too; I don't want to have to look at that ugly thing."

Despite her words she was not just looking at my dick, but staring at it. Her pussy juice was caked on it, and it was half hard. One thing that I was certain of is that it wasn't "little" because the size of my cock was one of only a few things that I had going for me.

I woke up quickly, pulled up my pants, fastened my belt, picked up the duffle bag, and started walking off.

"Aren't you bringing the backpack?" she snarled.

"You carry it, Vile Bitch; I'm not your pack animal," I shot back.

"I'd think that the least you could do after raping me is to carry my pack, shithead," she snapped.

"You weren't that good," I shot back, then started walking away and said "Are you coming?" Of course the "you weren't that good" comment was the most ridiculous thing that I had ever said in my life. She was a so much better fuck than any other woman that I had ever been with that no comparison was even legitimately possible.

Surprising me, Vile Bitch caught up to me, knapsack on her back, and initiated as rational a conversation as we had ever had. She was asking all sorts of questions about what I thought we should do, what our chances were of getting out, was anyone looking for us, etc. We actually made eye contact a few times and I suddenly realized -- she didn't look like a serpent any more! She had beautiful normal blue eyes, not green and brown eyes with thin vertical pupils. I stopped cold and stared at her.

"Uh, Vile Bitch..." I started to say.

"You can call me Carleigh if I can call you Ryan," she interrupted.

"You don't want to call me shithead or asshole?" I asked with a smile.

"No -- rapist maybe -- but not those names. Please call me Carleigh and I'll call you Ryan," she replied.

Her use of the word "please" so startled me that I almost didn't remember what I was going to say. I'm sure that I stood there with my mouth open for a good twenty seconds before I remembered.

"Uh, OK; well Carleigh, why do your eyes not look like a snake's?" I asked.

"Oh; well while you were sleeping, or passed out, after raping me I took out my contacts. They were starting to bother me anyway with all the pollen in the woods," she nonchalantly replied.

"You wear contacts?" I asked, incredulous, since I had never seen her without snake's eyes.

"Yes; part of my act. I don't need them to improve my eyesight -- its 20-20. They're called 'Cobra Eye' contacts. I have many pairs of them, and usually only take them out when I sleep."

"Oh," I said -- then feeling the need to say something more, and really believing it, I replied "Well your blue eyes are beautiful."

I knew as soon as I said that she would come back with some demeaning comment. I almost fainted in shock when she smiled, said "Thanks," and then started talking about some ideas that she had about how to get back to civilization.

We walked most of the day, taking a five minute break every hour. During the breaks we actually chatted -- almost like normal people. Periodically I would try my cell phone, but there was no reception anywhere we went that day -- not surprising considering the remote mountain terrain -- and I didn't leave the phone on long because I wanted to save the battery.

By the time that darkness enveloped our campsite, where we shared some of the food we had purchased from the people at the cabin we had stayed at, I was having a difficult time getting comfortable because my cock was rock hard. As much as I hated to admit it I was so turned on by Carleigh that all that I could really concentrate on was how to get my cock back into her cozy pussy. I really didn't want to force myself on her again, but was coming to the conclusion that I might have to when she surprised me for about the tenth time that day.

"Say, Ryan. I'm still pissed at you for raping me, but do you think that you could fuck me without raping me? I've been horny lately and I think that you have a decent cock. No strings, or anything -- just sex." Those words actually came out of her mouth. I sat there dumbfounded while she stared at me with an expectant look on her face. I decided to have some fun before my fun.

"I don't know, Carleigh. You kind of insulted me by calling my cock little and ugly. I don't know if I can get it up," I replied trying to keep a straight face.

Carleigh laughed. "You know damn well that your cock isn't little or ugly -- and as for not being able to get it up, what has been tenting your pants virtually the entire day? Including now!"

I was busted.

I moved toward her and took her into my arms. We gently kissed as she undid my pants and I took off her top.

Her tits rendered me speechless. They were magnificent. While too big for her thin body they were perfectly shaped and had just enough sag to demonstrate that they were natural. After I played with them for a while she got down on her knees, pulled my pants and shorts down, and started sucking my dick. I continued to play with her tits as she did so. I didn't want to waste even one load, however, so I lifted her up, broke away, spread the tarp on a bed of pine needles, got the blanket we had purchased out of the duffle bag, and removed the rest of my clothes. She was already naked.

I lay her down on the tarp and proceeded to lick her clit, finger her labia with one hand, and penetrate her and stroke her G-spot with the other. After she had two significant orgasms I thought that she was ready -- and I certainly was. I spread her thighs, put her heels on my shoulders, penetrated her, and started to bang the shit out of her.

Carleigh clawed my back, bit my shoulder, bucked her pelvis up and down, and alternately swore, yelped, and moaned. When she could tell that I was almost there she squeezed her pc muscles and we both came -- violently. If we had been on a bed we probably would have broken it. It was a long time before my dick became flaccid and popped out of her -- perhaps because the entire time I was stroking or sucking her luscious melons.

When we lay side-by-side, with the blanket over us, and I had almost fallen into a very satisfying slumber when Carleigh lifted up one of my eyelids. "Did you really mean it when you said that I wasn't that good?" she asked -- seemingly real.

"You're not serious, are you?" I chuckled. By the expectant look on her face I thought that she might be. "If you are serious, you have to be the least intuitive person on the planet. My two fucks with you were the best sexual experiences of my life," I replied with a grin.

"You mean one rape and one fuck, don't you?" she grinned back. Then she buried her head on my chest and we soon both fell asleep.

Carleigh woke me up the next morning fondling my cock. "Let's take a quick dip in the stream then have some fun," she giggled.

The stream was cold, but bearable. We washed each other's backs and tended to our own "equipment" and then ran back to the tarp and blanket. After we warmed each other up by snuggling together she started stroking my cock again, I stroked her pussy, soon we were in a sixty nine with her on top, and soon after that she was riding me like I was a prize bull. I fondled her tits as I bucked upwardly and we had the third, mammoth, essentially simultaneous orgasm in a row.

Once we started walking after breakfast -- with me carrying both the knapsack and the duffle bag, I couldn't help myself -- I felt the best that I ever had in my life. I felt even better when we stopped for lunch.

"Say Ryan; before we eat, let me ask you something," Carleigh said with a smile.

"Sure -- what's up?" I replied with my own smile.

"You know, the ground is hard on my back and knees when we fuck. Is it the same for you?" she asked, with an even bigger smile.

After a pause I replied, "Well....uh....yes; but that doesn't mean that I want to give it up."

"Who said anything about giving it up? What's wrong with doing it standing up, or you sitting down and me sitting on you?" she asked with a devilish grin.