Home Sweet Homeland

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"Bring her round the front, Jarrel. Get the chair around there as well, Catherine."

Elisabeth didn't know what Scott had in mind, but she soon began to realize as he put the chair in the middle of the office and then tilted the back of over as far as it would go, to about forty five degrees.

"Keep telling us about your boating adventures, Elisabeth," Catherine demanded.

"It went on for what seemed like ever, with us giving them blow jobs. They pulled off our swim suits and their fingers were up our cunts all the time we were bent over. We had to keep wriggling our bare asses for the rest of the gang to watch and if you didn't have your mouth full you had to keep begging them to fuck you. If you didn't shout out loudly or often enough you got a tap from the paddle as a reminder.

"Then the boys put Anita down on top of the boat on her back, and then they made me stand at the other end. They said the boat was a punt for a cunt. Then they lifted up Anita's legs and told me to hold onto her ankles while they lined up to fuck her. She was staring up at me between her knees with her eyes rolled back and squealing away like a puppy getting pinched. And every time a new boy began screwing her the camera flash went off again."

Elisabeth was finding it harder and harder to keep her story anything like coherent as Scott finished his preparations. He took his own jacket and Jarrel's, folded them and put them on the top of the seat backrest. Then he put his tie underneath one armrest and Jarrel's red silk tie underneath the other one.

"OK, Elisabeth, time for some intensive interrogation techniques."

She was moved forward, against the seat, the tops of her thighs against the folded jackets. She gasped as the men forcibly bent her forward, so far forward that she had to press her palms down against the edge of the seat itself to support her weight. The pain on her lower stomach would have been intolerable without the cushioning effect of the two jackets. Then she felt the ties being drawn around the back of each of her knees and tightly knotted.

"Oh God!"

She was a prisoner, her legs secured on either side of the chair, her feet on tiptoe, the upper part of her body bent forward and down, with her butt stuck out behind her as though on display. Which it was, and even more so as her skirt slid down her inclined back until the hem was hanging around her shoulder blades, her blouse underneath it. Elisabeth's hands squeezed against the polished leather below her hands as exploring fingers moved up between her pinioned thighs. Air blew out between her lips with a sound like steam escaping from a boiling kettle.

"Isn't this how you wanted it. Ms Nice Lady?" Scott demanded. "You told your boy friend you got it doggy style in that gang bang. So tell us about it."

"God . . . God! The guys took me to the other end of the boat. Then one of them told me to kneel on top of the boat support. It was like a plank with a rubber mat on top of it to stop the boat getting damaged, so I could put my weight on my knees without it hurting too much. But I had to put them down on either side of the boat, with Anita's legs underneath me, and then they bent me forward so I was showing them absolutely everything. That wasn't all though, because my face was so close to Anita, we were looking in each other's eyes, and our tits were piled up against each other. And then the jerks tied the fishing lines to both our earrings so we couldn't move our faces away from each other. The bastards . . . they lifted up Anita's legs against mine, and they put a belt around our knees on one side and tightened it, then they did the same on the other side, so we couldn't move our legs either. And while we were in that position I got my first show and tell fuck from some boy I couldn't even see while Anita screaming in my face because the other guys were fingering our clits at the same time."

Elisabeth tried to catch her breath. Only to have it snatched out of her lungs as two pairs of hands began pulling down her pantyhose, their strength overcoming the increasing tightness of the material as it forced over her opened thighs until the waist band was cutting into the very bottom of the curve of her buttocks. Cool air flowed around the exposed wet patch in her briefs, but only for a second as the fingers returned to the promised land.

"Oh God!"

"Don't worry, Elisabeth, Scott's getting his clothes off now. You keep talking and I'll get you ready for him. You want that, don't you? You want a really good fucking on video, right? So keep us interested. Keep talking about how you counseled those guys in the boat shed."

"Jesus, Jesus, the next one put his cock into Anita's cunt, then into mine, and then right up my ass!"

Elisabeth jerked against her restraints like a mare smelling a stud stallion as Jarrel dragged her panties down to the same level as her hose. A twanging sound sounded across the office as the over stretched waist elastic snapped and the panties were left hanging around the tops of Elisabeth's legs like windblown laundry. Catherine giggled and circled the scene, the camera at her face staying aimed at the chair all the time.

"Elisabeth, I've got to show this to some male friends of mine sometime," Christine cooed. "They are just so going to love watching you get fucked in that position. And aren't you loving it too, Ms nice lady?"

"Yes . . . Oh, Sweet Lord!"

Jarrel pulled her ass cheeks wide apart, put his lips against them and gave her a Bronx cheer right up the butt. Then his tongue trailed a wet path down into her cunt, right onto the swollen lips spread out like budding rose petals covered with sticky dew. The tongue ran around on them as if trying to decide on a place to finally settle, sending Elisabeth into a moaning fit of desire.

"Jeeeeesus . . . fuck me!"

She heard Catherine call out mockingly: "Come on up, Scott Heynig. You're wanted."

"OK, but put your hand over her mouth again or the whole building will hear her sounding off when I give it to her."

Elisabeth made no protest at Catherine's fingers covering her mouth: she concentrated on sucking in as much air as she could between them while she had the chance. Jarrel's tongue finally touched her clitoris, his fingers stroked the backs of her tied legs and the chair rocked and creaked underneath her weight as Elisabeth convulsed again.

"Hold on, sweetie, Scott is just putting the rubber gift wrapping on your government issue work bonus," Catherine cooed. "Now, I'm going to take my hand away far enough for you to tell us how many times you got reamed out in that boat shed."

"Ah . . . I don't know. They all had me, one way and another, and Anita as well. Then they told us that when we went home on the bus on the last night of camp we had to be wearing stocking and high heels and no panties. They said they were going to put us together on the back seat and we were going to have our heels hanging over the top of the seat in front all the trip home. They said every boy riding on the bus was going to have a ride on us as well . . . God! God!"

Catherine's fingers pressed against Elisabeth's lips again, cutting off her rising voice. "I don't know exactly what you're doing back there, Jarrel," the girl said, "But it seems to have Ms Manning interested. OK, guys, let's see the bulls start charging."

Jarrel's tongue left Elisabeth's rigid clitoris, the wetness of his saliva mixed with her own juices. His fingers were no longer stroking behind her knees, she was being left to melt in her own fires. Until another, rougher hand patted her left ass cheek and squeezed it like a rider reassuring a nervous horse. At almost the same moment something hard and incredibly smooth nestled in between her cunt lips, parted them, and then entered all the way into her, boldly going into places she could have sworn no man had reached before. Oh, God, Scott, you fit into me like nobody else ever has!

"What's she like?" Jarrel asked.

"She's good and tight. I think she needs a lot more fucking than she's been getting. Christ, be careful of your fingers, Catherine. The noise she's making, she might bite them off."

"Ms Manning won't dare bite me," Catherine answered. "Not unless she wants to lose some teeth. Give her a few more deep ones and see if she'll shake her tits for us."

Scott's hands clamped around Elisabeth's waist, he lunged forward hard enough to make her hands almost slip off the chair and her hanging breasts swayed around like balloons in a breeze. From behind her Elisabeth could hear her cunt squelching and popping as Scott's body slammed into her buttocks with grunts of effort. Christine used her free hand to tug on Elisabeth's ear.

"It's a pity you can't see what you look like right now, Elisabeth, ass up and panties down, but don't worry, I'll make sure you get a complimentary copy of the video. In fact I'll make sure you sit down and watch every second of it."

"Hey, how about me," Elisabeth heard Jarrel call out. "Don't I get a turn?"

"We'll let Elisabeth choose," Scott said. "Watch this."

His cock was taken out of her cunt and he moved the chair around a quarter turn. Now only Catherine was touching her with her hand over her mouth, and even that was removed. Elisabeth was left panting on top of the chair, aroused, untouched and almost weeping in frustration.

"Please, guys, please . . . I need more!"

"No problem." It was Scott's voice. "Your feet are touching the carpet. You can swivel around to your right or left. Go left and Jarrel will shaft you, come right and I'll give you some more. Which do you want?"

Catherine laughed and leaned her head towards Elisabeth's, to whisper in her ear. "Don't quote me on this, Elisabeth, but Jarrel has a bigger dick than Scott's. I'd go for a ride with him if I were you."

Elisabeth dug her toes into the carpet and the chair creaked like an ungreased windmill in a fading wind as she struggled to turn it to her left. Around her the agents laughed as Ms Elisabeth Mary Manning fought to swing her naked ass around inch by inch, a government bureaucrat no longer caring about her situation or shame, all her emotions stifled by an overwhelming desire to have a man mount her again.

Jarrel called out to encourage her: "Twenty degrees left to go, Elisabeth . . . ten degrees to go . . . five degrees, almost there. All stop, down anchor And here comes the torpedo."

Catherine's hand clamped down over Elisabeth's lips again just in time to stop her first squeals of gratified pleasure from echoing around the office. Then they parted to allow a thick fleshy plug to be inserted in Elisabeth's mouth. Catherine giggled and Scott muttered in encouragement as Elisabeth sucked on his cock in total surrender to his demands.

Jarrel laughed out loud and gave her a thrust from behind with a prick so long and powerful it seemed like it had come off a NASA launch pad. Elisabeth almost choked on Scott's dick and felt as if her ears were about to pop. Then Jarrel's fingers rubbed against her clit and she exploded as if he'd pulled a pin from a grenade. Elisabeth thought she was dying. Until her eyes opened again to see and feel her nose rubbing against the blonde hairs of a man's pubic patch. They were tickling her nostrils and if she sneezed now she would certainly die, of suffocation. But, God, she was alive and living in a fever of excitement as two men pleasured themselves on her trapped body whichever way they wanted to.

Catherine's fingers tugged hard on Elisabeth's ear: "Be a good girl for us, Ms Manning, and there'll be plenty more of this. For starters, you're going to email some pictures to Abbas Sarak showing how you got tied down across a chair in your office by a couple of guys who used you like a total slut. Then you're going to tell him you're visiting LA and ask him to get a few friends together to meet you. I guess he'll oblige. And after his raghead gang have finally finished fucking you'll tell them where you work and what your husband does. If they get interested in any of that then we'll be interested: understand?"

Elisabeth body was already building up for another climax. As she realized what she was going to have to do for Catherine the orgasm racked her body, stiffening every muscle like a lightning strike as her ravishers emptied themselves into her with shuddering gasps of triumph.

"Oh well done, Elisabeth," Catherine chuckled. "Ask not what your country can do for you, ask instead how many men you can do for your country."

THE END

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AnonymousAnonymousalmost 17 years ago
transplanted story

i remember reading this story a few years ago on another story site.

AnonymousAnonymousalmost 17 years ago
The lowest mark I could give is too generous

Stuuuuuuuuupid

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