Three fingers were shoved into her dripping snatch, “She’s still sloppy from her last fuck!” The man slipped a fourth finger inside her as the woman moaned and squirmed to escape the attention. He shoved and twisted his hand and it soon was buried deep in her pussy. His fisting was hard and fast.
Another Baschan soldier, yanked a medallion off a scorched enemy jacket and opened the clasp to extend the needle-like pin which held it on. He took a firm grasp of her right nipple and roughly pierced the medal through the tender brown flesh. “There, now you’ve been awarded a medal for having a fist in your pussy in combat.”
The warslave was suddenly yanked to her feet and led across the camp center. The medal dangled and bounced from her pierced nipple and her gaping cunt dripped stale semen down her thighs. She was tossed into firing position and staked to the ground in the midst of a broken Vickers machine gun and several ammo boxes.
A soldier yelled from across the grounds, “Captain, we’ve loaded the truck and we’re ready.”
She called six female guards.
“Here she is, girls, your favorite insurgent! She’s all yours! Get your cunts all over her. She needs a good cunt wash! Every square inch of her!”
The Major untied Ángela and placed her on her back while the guards stripped off. The Head Guard took went down onto her, kissing and licking at first and then later doing a cunt-to-cunt scissors.
Ángela was disgusted but tried not to show it. The guards laughed and joked and discussed who got which part to work on. One guard sat on her face. Two of them took her hands and placed them on their cunts. A third lay across her and rubbed her cunt over Ángela’s breasts, laughing. The other three moved around, joking and rubbing themselves on whatever parts of Ángela they could.
The room was soon heavy with the smell of women’s juices, sweat and urine. The walls rang with the guards’ soft moans that soon became urgent gasps and groans. Ángela licked one cunt after another and masturbated any guards she could.
The Major stood up. She waited until all the guards had cum, and then she sat on Ángela’s face again. Her huge breasts bounced up and down. She gasped and closed her eyes…
“Now you’ve learnt something, insurgent!” she said. “People think all we dyke’s do is sit on faces and lick cunts, but it’s not true. Do you know what we do most of the time?”
“We lie on each other and we fuck each other’s thighs. Like this! Got it?”
Christine screamed when the snatch squad grabbed her in broad daylight off the street. Her husband cried crocodile tears when his wife’s “body” turned up dead, and nobody questioned poor, proud Christine’s sudden disappearance.
Now Christine was about to spend the rest of her time as an anal slave in the Butt Dickers and Ass Lickers wing of the prison! This frigid housewife hadn’t opened her legs for even her own husband, and now she was about to be the most obedient shit and slit licker in the prison. A session with the Ass Blaster in Christine’s tight, virgin anus was enough to turn the howling, entitled pig into the most obedient, little, pussy sucking lamb around! Soon she’d sweat off those pounds running rounds in the “stockyard” for the prison guards and mistresses.
And she was needed often. Every few feet one of the soldiers would tug the rope through her pussy, and pull her up to him, taking a minute or two to bite and chew at her nipples or to force her to her knees for a mouthful of cock.
She had already tasted the cocks of nearly half the squad before she was hoisted onto the truck. Once inside she was led into the middle of the truck bed with the soldiers sitting on benches on either side. One of the platoon leaders, a young corporal, removed the rope and wiggled the damp panties from her pussy.
“These are surely wet enough, gents!” he laughed holding up the tattered lace. “I think she likes being our squad bitch.”
A sergeant near the gate of the truck suddenly stood up, bracing himself as the truck lurched into motion with a thick scarred hand on a brace above him.
“Well, Corporal Bevins, you led the taking of that enemy position just yesterday … you should lead the fucking of this horny bitch!” The truck erupted in cheers except for the helpless woman standing exposed on the center who whimpered and shook her head in horror.
The organizers of “Threes” set up clubs for different interest groups. One of these was called the Hair Club. They also offered their premises online for hire by anyone who wanted somewhere to go for a fuck, and if the customer had no partner, they provided one or two at a price.
Dan Jenkins, a local insurance salesman, was a good customer. He always dressed up in shiny boots for his sessions. He liked to keep a friend of his, a large-breasted blonde, suspended from a hook on the wall while he fucked another woman. He was surprised and pleased when he saw the woman the club had provided for him. It was his boss’s wife!
“The way I see it, bitch, your husband owes me a pay hike or two! Until I get it, I’m taking it in fucks! Understand?”
The wife tried to nod, but it was impossible.
“You look good like that, bitch! With your hair up, I mean! Women should look a man in the eye when they get fucked! A lot of them don’t do that! Especially when they ride a man they look to one side! That’s wrong, bitch!”