Bargaining for survival Pt. 04

One cock followed another and another with Henrik controlling access to her pussy, ensuring that all those in the community who hadn't yet unloaded cum into her got to do so today. The rational part of Scarlett's mind recognised that many of these were fundamentally unpleasant men but as the morning wore on she recognised the genius of the carpenter's contraption.

She had no idea who was fucking her and the lack of a visual image meant that her all-to-vivid imagination took over, bringing her many powerful orgasms as she imagined Henrik fucking her into submission. At some point, as she felt an anonymous cock approaching orgasm, she felt it withdraw before thick coils of cum landed on her tits.

It was as if a dam had been breached; once one man unloaded on her breasts, every second man was doing so until she could feel rivulets of cum running down all parts of her chest and belly. Each time another load hit her unexpectedly, it brought her to another peak of depraved pleasure, often resulting in another orgasm.

Periodically, Henrik would enter the hut and check that Scarlett was okay. Her flushed face and the joy shining from her eyes told him all he needed to know, even as he ensured she was fed and watered out of the sight of the rest of Newdawn.

She was long spent by the early afternoon, but had no way of indicating this and it was clear that Henrik was not going to stop the gangbang until everyone had had their fill.

At long last Scarlett felt a cock withdraw from her, but not be replaced. Then she heard Henrik's booming voice: "I am sure this will have taught the wench a lesson. If not, we can easily repeat the arrangement as needed. For now, she has atoned for her crimes and so tomorrow she will be permitted to bargain for essential provisions."

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Scarlett knew by now that she needed to catch Henrik by surprise if she was to realise her increasingly obsessive dream of having his monstrous cock impale, pummel and fill her with cum. She knew that neither begging nor cajoling would work and, as she lay awake waiting for sleep to come, a truly devious plan formed in her mind.

It just relies on me finding someone who can apply a tattoo, she thought to herself. Is that even possible out here?

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Next morning, true to his word Henrik released her for her 8am gangbang, which she thoroughly enjoyed, and then left her to make her own arrangements. Asking him about the tattoo artist, she was surprised that he replied in the affirmative. "Without clothes, we need some way of identifiying which men are ship captains, for example. We use tattoos to do this. But, hang on, why do you want a tattoo?"

Now it was Scarlett's turn to smile inscrutably at him as she left the hut. Before following Henrik's directions to the tattoo artist, though, she sought out the island's barber.

"Have you ever shaved a pussy before?" was her blunt question to the barber. She was pleasantly surprised by her boldness. I seem to be losing my sense of shame, she thought to herself, reminiscing about Jeff and how much he would have delighted in this development.

The barber nodded excitedly and directed her to a reclined chair outside his hut. Belatedly he remembered that he should be bargaining for his services rather than giving them away for free. "I want ten minutes of unfettered access to your newly shaven pussy afterwards," was his demand.

Scarlett considered her options. She could tell from the barber's enthusiasm that she could negotiate down to almost nothing; he was clearly excited just to be asked to perform the job. But he deserves what he asks for, she reasoned to herself wickedly, and so she nodded by way of acceding to his demand.

Removing her sheer panties and settling back into the chair, she parted her legs happily and shivered in pleasure as she felt the barber's hands firmly massaging soap into her pubic area and over her outer lips. Compared to the ravages of the past few days, having her pussy massaged in this way felt delightfully luxurious, and Scarlett welcomed her body's inevitable response, feeling lubrication coating the barber's fingers and her labia.

The barber, to his credit, worked hard to remain professional even as the evidence of her arousal coated his hands. Nevertheless, she noticed that his massaging was moving just as much inside her pussy as around it. She hardly minded, and an involuntary whimper of pleasure encouraged him further.

But the barber took pride in his work and, knowing that he had ten minutes to do whatever he wanted to her freshly shaven pussy, he paused his fingering and brought his razor and bowl of water. Working swiftly and expertly, he whipped off the pussy hairs that had grown out since she had last trimmed (when even WAS that? she thought to herself) as well as the foam that his massaging had generated.

Stroking every inch of skin to ensure that no stray hairs remained, the barber soon had Scarlett's pussy on fire and her mind clamouring for a different sort of attention from him. The free-flow of fluid down her perineum and pooling on the chair around her asshole vividly illustrated her excitement and tested the barber's resolve to the extreme.

As soon as the last section of hair and foam had been removed, the barber fell on Scarlett's freshly shaven cunt and licked the full length of it. She had been so lost in a daydream about the pulsing veins on Henrik's hard cock that she was taken completely by surprise by the barber's tongue and, as it slid roughly over her swollen clit she had a sudden and violent orgasm, mashing her pussy into his face to sustain the contact with his tongue.

The barber clearly had a thing for freshly shaven cunts, as he didn't come up for air for at least five of the next ten minutes. When he finally did slide his cock into her smooth pussy, she was in a fully orgasmic state and rode him joyously until he came inside her.

She reluctantly climbed off his cock, thanking him sweetly for the trim, before picking up her panties (she couldn't afford to put them back on with the barber's cum leaking out of her pussy). She followed Henrik's directions to find the tattoo artist. Arriving at his hut, she noticed a man just leaving, with 'Seeker' newly tattooed on his shoulder. Seeing her looking at the new tattoo, he explained:

"I've just been promoted to captain of a newly built boat called Seeker. She's a bit rough and ready, but seaworthy. I'm going to take her for a test sail in a few days, but first I have to lay claim to her." Here he indicated the fresh ink. "Then I have to make some finishing touches to her hull. She'll be ready in a couple of days time."

On a whim, Scarlett decided that she badly needed a break from the confines of Newdawn and so, twirling her panties around her finger and thrusting her chest out to draw attention to her nipples, she bargained for a place on his boat for the test sail.

"You can come on the boat alright. My only condition is that my crew and I get unfettered access to fuck you all day."

Scarlett readily agreed, shocking herself by how quickly she had adjusted to the idea of bargaining away her pussy for such mundane pleasures as feeling the wind in her hair and seeing Newdawn from the outside.

"Meet us at the harbour at 11am the day after tomorrow," the captain confirmed, hardly able to believe his luck.

She turned her attention back to the tattoo artist, entering his hut and explaining what she wanted.

"I mean, I can do it," the tattooist responded, "but you need to know that it would mean that your pussy is off-limits for anyone and anything other than peeing for 24 hours. Wouldn't you be punished for that?"

Scarlett's mind raced with conflicting thoughts: I have already annoyed Henrik by refusing to come out and fuck the day before yesterday. Do I really want to push my luck in this way?

I want...no I NEED Henrik to fuck my brains out. I need to make his will crumble. What better way than to brand myself as his property? If it gets his cum inside me, it will all be worth it.

She shivered with anticipation for what she was about to do; both the depravity of the act, and the certainty of being punished for it. She finally made her decision as she realised how turned on she was by the thought of doing something to cause her punishment at the hands of Henrik. I really am sick in the head, she said to herself, but with a wry smile of pleasure she nodded at the tattoo artist.

"Well, okay then, but I need payment in advance." Again, she nodded, not even bothering to negotiate terms, but simply lifting her jumper dress above her head and unclipping her bra.

After the tattoo artist had cum in her, he took a cloth and wiped down her pussy carefully. Then, over the course of the next hour, he very carefully and skilfully carried out Scarlett's wishes to the letter.

"You'll need to wear this gauze pad to prevent irritation. Don't remove it for 24 hours except when you need to pee."

The feeling of being covered up by the pad was so alien to Scarlett that she actually felt quite uncomfortable; she had slipped into her role as sex slave so easily and enthusiastically that it felt wrong for her pussy to be hidden in this way.

She was also entirely at a loose end. Her whole existence up to this point on the island had been as available pussy, and she had been fucked many, many more times that she could count. Even her asshole was tricky to access because of the way the gauze had been applied.

I feel quite bereft, she thought to herself, surprised. Still, there was nothing for it but to wait out the 24 hours and so, rationalising to herself that it was the safest place on the island for her, she returned to Henrik's hut.

As luck would have it, Henrik was out until late and Scarlett feigned sleep on his return, avoiding any discussion of her newly hidden pussy.

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Next morning, she awoke to find Henrik pacing the hut. As he saw her stretch and yawn, he walked over to the bed, obviously uncomfortable.

"Scarlett, I need you to fuck a couple of people for me. I need to persuade them to agree to my plan for cultivating the island and they are refusing to listen to reason. I..." Here, Henrik hesitated. This man never hesitated, except with her. She could see that she was gradually softening his hard exterior, and she loved it. It makes me wet to see a side of him no-one else gets to see.

"I...got them to agree...er..." What is going on? Henrik is the most confident, authoritative, dangerous man I have ever met. What is making him hesitate? She found herself hoping he was going to ask her to degrade herself in some way for him.

Henrik took a deep breath and visibly forced himself to speak: "I got them to agree to my plan by promising that they could both fuck you after your water contract today." Eek! No fucking for me today! But Henrik doesn't know this yet. That can't explain why he is so worked up by this. Scarlett thought nonchalantly. I fuck people all the time. What's the issue?

"I agreed that they could fuck you together." Still, she couldn't see the issue. Henrik was expecting her to head out any moment for her daily fucking by her water suppliers, who would also fuck her together. The lack of concern must have showed on her face because Henrik went on: "No, you don't understand. I agreed that they could fuck your pussy together. At the same time."

It slowly dawned on Scarlett what Henrik was saying. Double penetration. Oh. She had taken a sort of quiet pride in how she had adapted to her new life in Newdawn, and had started to get used to her status as the community's fucktoy, and Henrik's bargaining chip. Be honest, Scarlett, you are loving your new status, she said to herself, reminding herself of her commitment to total self-honesty.

But the thought of two fat pricks crammed into her pussy brought back all the terror, all the resistance, all the outrage of her first 24 hours in the community. It's obscene! How would it even work?! Won't they rip me open?! And, quietly, the Slut occupying an ever-increasing part of her brain took all the terror, resistance and outrage and funnelled it into a wild, barely-controllable erotic energy, whispering: Two cocks at once. Buried in my pussy. Two loads of cum filling me up. I want this. Oh I want this.

The conflict raged in her head, blocking out any further thoughts for some time. Eventually, though, she remembered that, because of her fresh tattoo, she couldn't even let one cock inside her until that evening, let alone two.

Real fear crossed her features, which Henrik noticed and mistook for fear about the prospect of double penetration. Swallowing down the guilt that he felt, he focused on the bigger picture and said with an authority that would brook no denial: "Remember, you are my property to do with as I wish. I am doing this for the good of the community and therefore for your benefit too. Your job is simply to obey."

"I...I...I can't!" she hesitated, then said all in a rush.

Henrik's eyes immediately snapped to hers, boring into her as he said imperiously. "You can. And you will. Remember who saved you from a rape that would probably have killed you. Remember who is protecting you from being torn apart by cocks in here. Remember who owns you."

She cowered in the face of his onslaught; Henrik had softened so much with her over the past few days that she had forgotten this side of his character.

This dark, forbidding, dangerous man.

The man who she had deliberately chosen to defy by going ahead with the tattoo even when she knew it would put her pussy out of action for 24 hours.

What have I done? And what will he do to me when he finds out what I have done?

"No, you don't understand. I mean..." here she paused again, torn between confessing all and revealing her tattoo and holding out, taking her punishment and later reverting to her original strategy of breaking Henrik's resolve not to take her by force.

Seeing Henrik's wrath growing, she was forced out of her paralysis into making a decision. A wild, irrational, impulsive desire to be punished by Henrik combined with an unwillingness to give up her plan to break Henrik's resolve caused her to look at him with a defiant, coquettish look: "I'm afraid you'll have to punish me again. I've been a bad slave. I can't tell you how. All I can say is that I won't fuck anyone or anything until tomorrow."

This was new for Henrik. Ever since he had spotted Scarlett's boat approaching Newdawn, he had been in control. In control of whether she was raped. In control of her access to Newdawn. In control of her pussy, ass and mouth and when and how often they were filled with cum. In control of his emotions.

Suddenly, he sensed that he couldn't control Scarlett. He sensed that her defiance was genuine. Her resistance made his blood boil, his pulse race, and his cock rock hard. He realised how much he relished the thought of overpowering Scarlett's resistance. He wanted to dominate her to such an extent that she couldn't refuse him anything. Her resistance was matched by the thrill of the chase for him; for the first time he had to fight for her obedience.

It made him want to fuck her brains out.

With a gargantuan effort of self-control, he avoided reacting to Scarlett's provocation. Instead, he calmly retorted: "Fine. If you aren't going to be useful as a fucktoy, I will have to keep you out of sight entirely."

Before she could process his meaning, Henrik had taken a rope from the ground near the bed and tied both legs and one arm down so that she couldn't move at all. He left only one arm free so that she could reach water and food that he placed in reach.

Then, without another word, he left.

Hours passed. Scarlett was bored out of her wits and, having got used to a regular rhythm of tens of cocks per day, she became howlingly, ragingly horny by mid afternoon. As the 24 hour mark passed from the completion of her tattoo, she used her one free hand to pull down her panties around her thighs and to peel off the protective gauze from her pussy.

She couldn't slide her panties any further because her legs were spread by the ropes tying them to the bed, and she couldn't inspect her pussy visually from her current vantage point.

But she could do a manual inspection. As her fingers slid exploratively over her completely smooth mound and luscious outer lips, she found her mind filling with vivid memories of Henrik's bulbous head stretching those lips as he had penetrated her a few days ago. Almost instantly she felt a slick lubrication as her pussy gushed with excitement.

It had been so long since she had had the inclination to pleasure herself that Scarlett delighted in the unfamiliar sensations of her fingers rubbing over her pussy lips and then delving inside herself. The control that she now had (but had lacked so utterly over the past few days) led her to linger over each stroke, teasing herself and slowly building a deep erotic charge.

With no hair to absorb the juices, her pussy and the skin all around in were soon completely slick and, as she dragged her fingers up her slit towards her clit she found a frustrating lack of friction. At home she kept tissues next to her bed, finding that she needed to regularly wipe away her copious juices in order to maintain enough friction.

Now, tied down and unable to move, her only option was to try to clean her fingers another way. The bed was made of sacking and didn't absorb anything, and so with a wicked delight she raised her fingers to her mouth and sucked her own pussy juices off her fingers. Her own taste was so alien to her; it spurred on her depravity.

She returned excitedly to her clit to find that she had a little more friction, and rubbed eagerly. Vivid images of Henrik invaded her mind; his monstrous cock impaling her pussy and her helpless underneath him as he pummelled her. Her imagination had always been rich and detailed and she delighted in bringing to mind the almost painful fullness that his cock would cause her to feel.

She took her daydream to its logical conclusion imagining her body being thrown about as he used all his brute strength to bang her until he roared in ecstasy, driving his cock deep as his cum pumped into her. She shocked even herself as her imagination rode ahead until she found herself pregnant with Henrik's child. Do I even want that?! she asked herself.

Despite the vivid scenes in her head, she found herself approaching but not quite achieving release. In part it was because she had always masturbated on her front and found that she wasn't able to apply enough pressure to her pussy mound whilst restrained on her back in this way.

In part it was because she was craving the real thing, to the point of obsession. Henrik's cock, ever present in her imagination, had loomed larger and larger as she had sat out her enforced abstinence over the past 24 hours. Nothing else could now satisfy her cravings, and definitely not her own fingers.

Still, she was so lost in a world of pleasure that she did not hear the door opening. As she opened her eyes, she was shocked to see Henrik looming over her, staring intensely at her sodden pussy. So shocked that she instinctively whipped her hand away from her pussy, which in turn revealed her new tattoo to Henrik.

His cock, which had been noticeably thickening and lifting away from his body as soon as he had entered the hut and seen her splayed on the bed, fingers buried in her cunt, hardened almost instantly to a rigid pole protruding an almost impossible distance from his stomach.

The tattoo took the form of a rectangular stamp, embossed around the edges. Inside the rectangle were the words 'Property of' down one outer lip and 'Henrik' down the other.