Polly's African Adventures Ch. 02

'The name!' A voice shouted from the distance mountain tops. Her body slowly subsided. Her brain gave up trying to cope. She became semi-conscious, floating in a sea of boiling lava; her flesh was roasting, disintegrating. It would fall off her bones. She no longer cared. At least, the agony would end. She had even no cause to bite her lip any more. Each throb of her heart sent streams of pain through her arteries.

'The name!' But Polly didn't hear.

'Stage three, Two-o-five,' came the command.

There was the prick of a needle in her upper arm. After a short while, a curious sensation slowly engulfed her. A growing need for sexual contact. Her arousal gradually overcame the sheer agony racking her limbs. Her genitals became wet and stimulated. A deep-seated desire inflamed her. Desperation overwhelmed her. She must have penetration. A cock. Her breathing became laboured. Her sighs pitiful. From the depths of her blazing loins she felt the honey streaming out of her. Her frustration became obsessive. She must have it!

'Fuck me!' she screamed. 'Fuck me!' Her utter humiliation at having to beg for a cock to fuck her could be heard in her cries.

'The name!' came the reply. 'Tell us the name. Then you will be penetrated by a large, thick penis. It will fuck you until you explode with joy and release.'

This was the nearest Polly came to blurting out his name. She twisted and flexed her loins. Her whole body was desperate for her vagina to be violated. Her mind became filled with images of large ejaculating cocks. Polly sobbed in desperation for release. Her loins screamed.

'Oh, please! Release me from this agony.'

'The name!' boomed the voice. But Polly refused to utter a syllable. Her writhing body showed her suffering. If only she could reach her clitoris. Rub it! Push her fingers in! Alas, they were manacled. She prayed for unconsciousness, but the demands of her body for urgent sexual activity tormented her. Just as she thought she would burst, she felt her body falling. Her suspended buttocks struck the boiling water. the stirrups lowered the full length of her body into the bath.

She shrieked as never in her life before. The sound tore her throat.

'The name!'

It was then that Polly lost consciousness.

When she came to, she was suspended by the wrists from the stirrups. She was cold and wet. A strange throbbing of excitement was swirling through her loins. A door slid open across the room. Through it, into the spot-light, stepped a heavily-built man carrying a terrified-looking Marina! She was gagged and bound round the arms and legs. Polly had never seen such an evil looking brute!

The intruder had a shaven head which accentuated the missing right ear. He wore a black eye-patch. His figure was bulky, like that of a wrestler. A black polo-neck shirt and black track suit trousers covered him. A sheath knife and truncheon hung from a wide belt. He stood Marina in front of him, taking out his sheath knife. It sliced through the ropes with ease. They fell to the floor.

Marina was rooted to the spot, too terrified to move. With his free hand, the wrestler snatched her blouse, ripping it from her body leaving Marina naked from the waist up. Then, slipping the keen edge of the knife into the side of her waist band, he sliced down the skirt and pants. The skirt fell away. The knife soon sliced through the other waist of the pants to leave Marina totally naked.

With bowed head, she was too ashamed to look Polly in the face. She had been left to guard the flat. But her visitor had told her that Polly wanted her urgently and that she must accompany him. Once inside the privacy of the apartment he had pounced on her, binding her and slapping a band of wide sticking plaster over her mouth. Marina was scooped up in his arms like a doll.

Without saying a word, the man replaced the sheath knife with the truncheon. Releasing a catch at one end, a coiled thong dropped out from the other. Marina was completely dominated by this misshapen hulk.