Cumming for the Cause

Number Two inhaled deeply. "The hard way it is then."

With that the three men set on her with speed and coordination that she hadn't expected. Number One grabbed her left arm; someone, who by process of elimination seemed to be Number Three, took her right, and Number Two bend down, grasped both ankles, and lifted her off her feet. All intentions to fight today's approach were overcome by these six strong hands carrying her wherever they desired, and that place quickly became the shower, where Number Two set her feet back down while One and Three pinned her back and each arm against the shockingly cold tiles of the shower wall.

Number Two pulled a mobile shower head from the wall, directed it at her chest, and sent a rush of freezing cold water down her body. "We have a rule here. Well, we didn't have it until today. But starting today if you clean up voluntarily, you get all the hot water you want. If we have to hold you down and force you, it's nothing but the cold stuff."

"Please, please, I'll clean up now. Just stop. I'm going to freeze to death like this."

"It's a little too late for that now." A few things about Number Two were coming into focus. With all three men assembled, he seemed to be the one in charge, or at least the one who talked the most. There was also no hint that he was here for the political plot. That was obviously Number One's thing. With Two, it seemed to be about some controlled sexual experience he was creating with her. She wondered what the rest of today held. She also wondered what quiet Number Three's deal was.

Once she was soaked head to toe, and already shivering from cold, Emily's pants were stripped down and pulled from her feet. She was not even given the dignity of stepping out of her own pant legs. She was held up off the ground, by the two strongmen who had taken charge of her upper body, while Number Two just wrenched the leggings free. She wondered how they would get her shirt off. They would have to release their grips on her arms to pull it over and off. Maybe there would be a chance to free an arm and swing a punch, Emily thought.

She underestimated their brutality. Two grabbed hold of her collar on both sides and ripped a gash through the garment from top to bottom, immediately exposing her breasts and nipples made hardened by the cold shower. He then tore connections from each sleeve back to the collar, and the wet shirt fell helplessly to the shower floor, and Emily remained as ever, pinned forcefully to the shower wall, her arms unable to defend against this assault.

Two turned the water off. If anything Emily was now even colder and more miserable than when the water had been on her. He grabbed a nearby bar of soap and began lathering her body with it. He began working across both arms, then down her chest, breasts, stomach, and around her back. He worked in a mechanical, almost asexual way. Her breasts were impediments to his cleansing, more than anything else.

He dropped to one knee as he soaped both of her legs. He looked almost chivalrous that way, if she ignored the ski mask, the other men holding her in place, and everything else about her situation. Then he rose, took a soapy hand, and spread it across the entirety of her groin. She jumped in surprise and felt of rush of lubrication fill her from the inside. His hand moved roughly around, soaping her pubic hair, her mound, and moved back and forth across her lips, without actually penetrating her.

She initiated an involuntary moan, which she then covered up with an obviously false cough. Two smiled beneath his mask and proceeded to advance his hand further under neither her. An eager finger ran along the length of her ass crack, feeling every bump and curve along the way. On its return trip, the finger lingered over her anus. For the first time, Emily had a sense that Number Two was now sexualizing this experience. Gone was the intentional cleansing to prepare her body for what was to come. It was replaced by his circling of her backdoor. His finger then began to apply pressure on her opening. She coughed again to stifle a potential moan, but this had the unfortunate consequence of opening up and unpuckering her ass, into which he now slid that eager finger. He kept it there, lingering for a few extra seconds, before withdrawing and announcing it was time to wash her hair.

With a gentle and almost loving touch he massaged shampoo into her scalp. From there his hands cascaded down her mane, rhythmically building up the lather. If she closed her eyes she could almost imagine she was being pampered at the spa, minus the anal of course. This was another mistake, as she was not able to see it coming with the freezing jet of water was again directed all over her naked body, rinsing the soap and grime and yesterday's cum down the drain.

The men holding her back abruptly released her, and Emily fell immediately to the shower floor. She hadn't realized she wasn't supporting her own weight, but instead was dependent on the men to hold her upright. They walked briskly from the room, while she remained dazed and shivering.

"Get dressed, and I'll see you in an hour," Number Two called over his shoulder. Over that hour, she did as she was told. When deciding where to sit and wait she even opted for the "fuck table" (as she was now calling it in her mind) rather than the bed. The shower experience had taught her that it was no longer useful to resist. Only worse things came from that path. She now knew that the only way out of this predicament was with two more loads of cum in her womb.

She heard the locking mechanism of the door unlatch with a loud metallic clunk, and immediately felt herself moisten again. In only two days it had become a Pavlovian response. The door would unlock, a man would enter, and her pussy would soak itself.

"I see you're already in position. No more fighting this time?"

"Let's get this over with so I can take a nap." She began to like the idea of submitting physically but maintaining her bitchy attitude.

"As you wish." He walked closer and reached up for the leg restraints hanging from the ceiling. He reached for an ankle, but she quickly withdrew it.

"Are you planning to strap me down again and tear apart these clothes to get to me? Because I can save you the effort and the expense and just take these off." He said nothing in response and she looked into his eyes searching some unspoken answer, but she found nothing in his gaze. She went through with it anyway, wordlessly lifting up her shirt and pushing down her pants until they dropped to the floor. She leaned back and draped her arms behind her head. "Already, let's get it over with already." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a blindfold and another gag.

"Oh come on. Aren't we passed that shit already. I know what this room looks like. I know what you look like, or at least with that mask on. And I've had plenty of opportunities to scream for help, but I'm pretty sure we're in the middle of the woods where no one can hear me. So how about we drop the pretenses and, again, just get it over with."

The corner of his mouth twitched into a facial expression that seemed to say, "sure, whatever." Then he walked to the head of the table and secured her hands into the clasps above her head. Her legs he allowed to remain free, unshackled by the ceiling restraints.

"Are you going to bellow some pathetic speech when you cum, like your friend yesterday?" She deepened her voice in mocking attempt to mimic Number One. "Uh, uh, oh yeah. For the cause!..."

No response.

"For someone who had a lot to say earlier you sure as shit are quiet right now." Her voice faltered. The quiet was genuinely unnerving her.

"I can see you've already made a puddle between your legs. We're off to a good start." With that, he sat down in the chair opposite her and removed his shoes, socks, and shirt, meticulously folding and setting each aside. He stood and stepped out of his pants and joined her in complete nudity, with the exception of the mask covering his entire head. He advanced on her, spreading her legs to either side and immediately entering her with his rigid cock. From her angle laying on the table she hadn't been able to preview his degree of excitement. She'd assumed that based on his disinterested attitude and his apparent distaste for her body (requiring the elaborate forced cleaning earlier), that he would need to spend a few minutes stroking his softness into something that could eventually enter her. She was shocked to be immediately filled by something so hard it felt not unlike the glass dildo she kept in her bedside drawer.

Rather than holding position like the gentleman caller the day before, Mr. Number Two fell into a slow rhythmic thrusting, filling her completely and then removing himself entirely before filling her completely and removing himself again. She too fell into a rhythmic pattern, unconsciously taking a quickly and deeply inhaled breath around the time she felt the tip of his cock push against her cervix, then slowly exhaling as he made his withdrawal.

For the first time since she awoke in that van, all conscious thought vanished from Emily's mind. She was so enveloped in ecstasy that she couldn't even stop to remind herself that she was angry, being abused, held against her will. The perfect gliding of his cock was picking up pace, although it maintained its regular, methodical rhythm. Deeper and deeper she fell into the haze of her own pleasure until she realized something awful. She was about to orgasm. She couldn't let that happen. How could she live with herself if she spent the rest of her life knowing that she came on a dick that was fucking her against her will?

Was it though?

Every implication was too dire to consider in more depth. She needed to stop what was building, but how do you stop the inevitable? She tried to imagine things, unsexy things. She pictured her parents; she thought of baseball; she attempted to recite Bible passages from memory. But every image in her mind quickly faded away and was replaced by a rock hard, perfectly proportioned cock making its way between her legs. Her attempts at distraction backfired as each benign thought became yet another gorgeous dick penetrating her and filling her with cum.

Oh God no. He can't make me cum! Just as she thought she was reaching the point of no return, another plan snapped into place. Get him off before he could get her off.

"You know, if you were a real man, you would have cum already. Isn't that the whole point, just getting some semen inside of me. What's taking so long?" Oh God, this better work.

"Come on you limp dick pussy. Fill me with your seed. Get me pregnant. Set your plan in motion. Breed me."

"If I'm such a limp dick, why are you so close to cumming?"

"I'm not."

"Oh really. I can see your flushed face. I can see how swollen your clit is. Hell, your piece of shit father can probably hear your moans from across the country. All I need to do is apply a little extra pressure with my thumb right here...." With that, Emily immediately felt a jolt of electricity surge through her body as he began firmly stroking her clit. She gritted her teeth and scrunched her face as the inevitable began to happen to her.

At first all sound ceased to come from her mouth. Then an uncontrollable shaking began from her pelvis and stomach and spread up and down her body until she was convulsing from head to toe. When the convulsions reached her mouth she let out a guttural scream and finally allowed herself to experience the waves of pleasure that roiled her body. She was lost in time and space. She heard her own scream as if it was coming from someone else. She felt suspended in air.

As she emerged from the haze of her exquisite orgasm, she opened her eyes and strangely felt disappointment. She wanted to look into the face of this man.

"Take it off."

"What?"

"Take off your mask."

"I'm not fucking stupid. Shut up or you'll get the gag again. I'm happy or whatever that you just got off, but that doesn't put you in charge."

Through their back and forth conversation the pace of this thrusting never faltered.

"I want to see you."

....

"Show me."

This continued for some time. Her requests became more dire, more pleading. Somewhere inside her, Emily felt like the world would end if she couldn't nakedly lock eyes with this stranger in the exact moment he spilled himself inside her. Eventually she wore him down.

"Alright, fine!" He was angry. "If it'll get you to shut up." The mask came off, still without any deviation to his thrusting, and she saw him. He was about her age, not handsome but not unhandsome. But his exact features were difficult to discern in that moment.

He looked to be fucking in some sort of trance. His chin was up, as if tilting his face to the sky, but his eyes were closed. His movements progressively became faster, firmer, and deeper. It was like being fucked by a piece of construction equipment. Emily could feel her body snap back to attention. She felt her eyelids involuntarily flutter and her eyes roll back in her head unconsciously. Bliss was approaching her yet again.

Then she heard a quiet muttering, indistinct at first and then clearly coming from the man.

"Limp dick my ass...." "gonna flood you with cum..."

In that moment she knew what she needed to do. He was struggling to get there. He needed her help. She realized suddenly that she really wanted what these men were offering. She wanted to be impregnated. She wanted their seed. She didn't know exactly how to say it, but she wanted to give voice to every impulse in her head.

"Give it to me. Give me your seed." He opened his eyes startled, and she locked in on his gaze. "You heard me. I want it. I want it. No. Actually I need it. Impregnate me. Please." The last word came out pleadingly sad.

She paused; her mouth had gone dry. She licked her lips and reset.

"I'm begging you in the name of Jesus Christ, cum inside me."

He seemed confused at first, unsure if he was being taunted like before. But gradually the realization sunk in that she'd been broken over the past two days. She really did want it from him and his coconspirators. Silently he redoubled his effort, maintaining eye contact. His nostrils flared and lips drew inward, his face frozen in a mask of concentration.

"Yes, that's it. I can feel it. I feel your cock stiffening inside me. I can tell your balls are ready to deliver what I need. That's a good boy; get me pregnant. I want it to be you. I want it to be you that puts it in me."

With immense relief he could feel his orgasm begin to build. He almost sighed amidst the grunts and the thrusting, pleased he was able to perform his duty. Then all around him began to go dark and his legs trembled and shook. As he came he imagined that a river of lava flowed from his cock. A warmth spread across his body that was almost uncomfortable in its fire. He didn't convulse the way she had, but the experience was no less powerful.

As the sensations dimmed and his motions slowed, a strange and funny, but also genuinely worrisome thought occurred to him. Is there a chance he could have cum so hard that he'd actually injured her internally. It was objectively a stupid thought, he considered, but also he couldn't shake it. He opened his eyes, almost expecting to see a smoldering crater where her uterus had been, to find a wide smile and eyes locked intensely on his. He had the suspicion she had never looked away from his face as he'd built to a degree of sensation he didn't know was possible.

He felt almost ashamed for the degree of pleasure he'd just taken. This was supposed to be a punishment for her and her family and everyone like her. How could that be... good? Then he remembered his role, his plan. He needed to be sullen, removed, execution oriented. He stepped back and wobbled a bit before finding his way to the chair where he'd undressed.

Emily sensed the change in the room. Somehow she knew that the power dynamic had been imperceptibly altered. She understood the ability of her body to level even her attackers. At this realization she gasped and then began to laugh.

"Even though I'm the one kidnapped, tied to a fuck-table, and bred like a farm animal - never forget that I'm in control here." She hadn't considered these words before giving voice to them, but as they emerged from her mouth they felt right. "I'm the one with the pussy that brings life and gets you off. You pieces of shit can gag and blindfold and restrain me all you want, but at the end of the day you're all here for me and my pussy, and that puts me in the driver's seat. Tell Number Three not to forget that tomorrow!"

Meekly and without looking back he finished dressing and limped out of the room like a wounded animal.

Day 3

Emily awoke again, but in a very different state of mind than she had the previous day. She delighted in recalling everything that had taken place since Number Two had finished inside her. She thought about the resignation of his stupid, slack-jawed face and his retreat out the room. She thought about the long stretch of hours she'd spent yesterday afternoon fantasizing about what Number Three would be like today. She thought about how she'd awoken in the middle of the night and found that she'd been subconsciously touching herself in her sleep. Clearly her orgasm yesterday had not realized enough of the sexual energy that had been building. She needed Three to get it out of her today or she'd go crazy.

She also worried. What would happen after today, after these men had finished breeding her over the course of her three fertile days. She dreamed of spending the next three months her locked away, feasting on their cocks daily, grinding out every ounce of sexual repression that still resided in her loins. But she knew that tomorrow was not promised; the future is always uncertain. She had to make the most of today in case she was nothing but a chatty incubator to them tomorrow.

Emily began pacing the room. Her heart raced and her insides boiled over. She needed to occupy herself for whatever minutes or hours that stood between her and another beautiful delivery of semen. A shower, she thought, in case this one wants me clean like Two.

She began with a bracing blast of icy water across her breasts, reproducing the glorious start to yesterday's session. She suspected that this experience was in the process of burrowing deeply into her lizard brain and that cold showers before sex might be a fixture of the rest of her life. Once she was satisfied with the erectness of her nipples, Emily rewarded herself with the warm water. She'd earned it. She ran her soapy hands across her body, mimicking the pattern that Number Two had followed.

Eventually an eager finger of her own found its way between her legs, locating her center of moisture and smearing the lubrication around the perimeter of her opening, in progressively widening circles. That perimeter of pleasure found her clit, which made her almost instantaneously weak-kneed, but the finger had a mind of its own, and that mind had an even better plan. It worked its way back down, picking up as much lubrication as it could, then continued tracing a direct line further down, beyond the walls of her vagina and under neither her body.

"Ah...." Something between a moan and a relieved sign escaped her lips as her own finger applied pressure to the opening of her anus. She circled the puckered lips, delighting in every folded ridge. When she could wait no longer the finger applied more pressure, and Emily sighed again as it overcame the resistance of her forbidden orifice and sank to her first knuckle. She was disappointed to find that the petite caliber of her fingers did not match the girth of Number Two's. She needed that same experience recreated. Her ass needed to feel more fullness within it.