Darkest Days

By the fourth day, and the umpteenth number of cane-marks across my skin I had dutifully maintained prior to this trip, my mind was slowly breaking down to the inevitable fate of what they were going to put me through again. From the window they didn’t bother to cover, I could see miles, and miles of lush, green grasses, with tall, grand trees that dotted the fields.

I could no longer feel the chains – much. I had caused the very scars by my futile struggles to break free, and being in such a sorry state would only hinder my running, if I ever found the chance. Outside the white, intricately-carved wooden door, children’s laughter and mindless gigglings could be heard, to only bring more hopelessness to my plight.

How could I be, that close to cheerfulness and yet be so miserable? There wasn’t any way to tell which footsteps was whose, but when everything went quiet, it was only one pair that could come in any contact with me. Unlike all home-doors, the gap under this particular one was blocked, leaving my fears to be awakened by the loud, harsh bolts that were unlocked one by one, from top, to bottom.

‘How are you feeling today?’, he asked. And I knew better to give him any other answer, than ‘good’. When she sat down the metal tray of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and orange juice, my mind went blank. It was blank not from how nasty looked, or would taste, but what was in it, in all of it.

‘Eat up’, he spoke in the most casual voice, like it was all normal. But I couldn’t resist the hunger anymore, especially not after a horrendous night of gastric pain.

As soon as the last bolt was fastened, I scurried to the tray, and used the plastic spoon to scrap everything into my mouth. Parched as I was, the glass remained tipped for five seconds longer than there was any liquid left in it.

The ensueing quietness, then reminded me of the monstrosity again, of a mindless, needless numbness that lured me into bed. I wasn’t going to hurt myself by letting me fall. It would cause unnecessary bruising.

No longer than fifteen minutes later, the door opened once more, to the familiar, smiley woman who was introduced as his wife. Young, slim, petite, almost model-like. Standing behind her as she walked into my prison, he made sure that she had checked the restraints, the empty tray, and my level of mobility.

Once all was in place, he shut the door just far enough to leave a gap, and yelled for her to ‘enjoy yourself’. When she lowered the only piece of clothing I had on me, a pair of boxers, I was already up, and definitely disinterested.

There was nothing for me to do, except to imagine her to be someone else, while she stroked my dick, whispering sweet nothings to it. Although I was numb, there were still sensations down there, for some mysterious reasons. Her lips would still make me gasp, and her tongue easily overwhelmed my urge not not moan.

‘Ready dear?’, another needless question forced me to turn my head sideway, as she climbed over my groin with two fingers splitting her pussy apart. I have often wondered, if she had shaved for this particular encounter, or was it for someone else, like him?

Entering her, was like going through a XL-sized condom, though she was more ‘flexible’ that when she rubbed her clit, I could feel something. Something. That light ‘grasp’ only caused her more exhaustion as she had to keep going, on and on, emotionlessly, for about ten minutes before I showed any signs of orgasm.

It couldn’t be helped, that she finally relented, for the fourth day in a row, to swap her pussy for a handjob until I was about to cum. Only then, would she sit back on her ‘throne’, and receive my cum she so graciously failed to fuck out of me.

Still, at the end of it, she gave me a smile, and thanked me for my ‘hard’ work. Like parents leaving scraps for their children, their daughter, aged twelve, was next. Despite how girls her age would look (immature) from where I came, she had long, flowing blonde hair, figure as slim and curvy as her hourglass mother.

Sure, her waist was tiny as any underage youth would be, but that mound was impossible not to stare at.

‘Hi! Don’t mind me!’, that bright, clueless voice just beeped as if it was a good day. Without hesitation, she climbed between my feet and bent her chest over my cock, swiftly catching my twitching cock in her hand to give it a careful, gentle handjob. Faced with firm, jerking, hanging breasts, I got a little distracted, at least until her mum, and dad entered the room.

‘Remember, don’t let your teeth touch it yeah? It will be bad if there is blood’, to which she responded with assuring nods. Seconds later, she parted her lips and engulfed my cock in heat, further pleasuring me when she adjusted her mouth.

Up, and down, she went without the use of her tongue – at first. ‘Put your tongue under his cock, and watch his face’, that unexpected challenge hardly faced any resistance when I squinted my brows together, giving them sort of a constipated look. ‘Wow! You managed to get his attention! Keep going. Deeper if you can’, her mum continued spurring her little girl on with this sick task, to which she certainly passed.

About three minutes later, mummy helped her up and verbally guided her to sit over me, though she did more of a ‘squat’. Not to be too domineering, little girl was asked to spread her labia as wide as her fingers could split before lowering herself, down to the tip of my saliva-covered member.

It was almost unbelievable, when I saw her taking controlled breaths like she was giving birth, as her pussy lips widened around my girth. The doubtful frown quickly changed to a delightful grin, followed by the smooth descend down my cock.

‘Alright! Good job girl!’, it was her dad this time, to ascertain her move. As soon as she started moving her hips, the parents left, for her to flash a different, more menacing grin at me. She actually went up to my ear, and whispered, ‘I have been practising, secretly with my sister’s dildo’.

Keeping up the ‘squat’ position, she slammed her hips up and down my groin, pushing and pulling her pussy as rapidly as she could manage. Although the initial ‘tightness’ was gone, it has changed into a slippery, yet comforting ‘clench’ that was coincidentally – very effective.

However, as all ’round two’ are, it took some time, as long as fifteen minutes for her to revive any life in it, no matter if I was already in the mood or not. The second explosion, was certainly bigger, and likely more forceful, hearing how happily she shouted for her mum to ‘come look’.

Expended and deflated, I fell asleep for a short while, until another older girl, seemingly more sympathetic, showed up by my side. ‘How are you doing?’, she asked, in the first, genuinely concerned tone since I have been there. ‘Alright, I guess. How are you related to them?’, it was the only rightful question to ask, knowing that I wasn’t too far from any controversial answers.

Right at that moment, mum busted through the door, with a cane in her hand. It was a crazy few minutes as she lashed it out at the unfamiliar girl, striking across her body like she was a pest. Amidst the angry screams and continuous degrading, mum finally gave her an ultimatum.

‘Take off your panties, and fuck him. NOW!’

The speed that blonde-black haired girl tore off her clothes were unmistakable. She too, knew better than to sing the other tune. With a pussy smoother than any of them, she sat on my belly before sliding her ass backwards, accurately tucking me into her lady part, that was strangely – wet.

For the first time, she rode me in the manner that all guys fantasised about. Ass sliding along my groin, both hands on my chest, head flinging down and up, and the exasperated look of containining her otherwise wild moans. The tension I felt within her, was as natural as it could get, contracting every few seconds from particularly deep strokes.

Unlike the previous two, I took just five minutes, to cum under the on-going waves of pleasure. That ‘silent scream’ had clearly went unnoticed as mum whipped her back to keep her moving. Over the short period she rode me, I had cum, and regained another erection that was stiffer and more undying than ever.

That girl, she came too, a few times, as quietly as I had the first time (with her). Finally, after another ten or so minutes, I groaned the words mum wanted to hear. Followed by a body-shaking orgasm that unloaded my empty balls inside her.

She was allowed to climax once more, before being commanded to ‘get off him’. That thick, non-viscous cum were all scooped and tucked into her pussy before she was left alone with me. Together, we cleaned each other up, and spoke for a bit.

As it turned out, she was in my situation before, though her role was less of ‘insemination’, and more of ‘manufacturing’ – eggs for mum.

The dark-haired girl, and I, never escaped. Instead, we, together with their daughter, raised our children to be decent human beings.

.. unlike the couple I shot, and we buried in the backyard, not that their little girl ever questioned their disappearance.

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