Debauchery Falls Ch. 05

She turned her face toward the heavens and opened her mouth. Let her cup runneth over. Or in this case-- her mouth...

Without a sound, the first of the cultists launched a thick warm rope of cum straight at her face. Like a trained seal, Lincoln caught it with her mouth. ...Most of it. The hot salty spunk landed on her tongue and lips. She squealed in delight and licked her lips, even as the next rope launched and splattered on her face.

Then more of the cultists followed. Cum flew at her from different directions. It splashed her face, her hair, her tits, and her tummy. It ran in thick globs, as they hosed her down with their seed. Lincoln couldn't stop herself. Each time she felt the warm splat of a new rope of cum hitting her bare skin, she cooed in ecstasy.

She had never been the center of a bukkake before, but it was the most thrilling thing that she could ever remember. A dozen men, staring blankly through the eyeholes of their creepy hoods. All with their dicks in hand. All stroking to her, with the one single-minded goal-- to mark her, claim her with their spunk, like animals marking territory.

And as far as Lincoln was concerned, she was everyone's territory, from here on out. Their cum soaked her, cumming in sheets more drenching than the rain. And when all of them had finished their orgasms, she was coated from head to toe in a thick milky sheen of the vile white goo.

The men didn't part, even as the war raged to the north and the fire burned to the south. They stayed in a ring, watching as Lincoln knelt in the mud and the rain, wiping cum from her body with her hands, and feasting on their offerings. A mindless sex maniac with no concerns for anything any longer.

She, Chaney, and Poe were now with them.

***

Captain Graver jammed on the brakes as the fireball lit up the night. The Jeep swerved on the wet road and fishtailed, before righting itself. Lucy screamed, but more from her surprise than fear.

He had been on his way to rendezvous with Chaney, Lincoln, and Poe when the rumble shook the valley, and the flames lit up the night. Which was probably the only thing that had saved he and Lucy's life.

Because looking over his shoulder at the blast a half mile back, that marked where his camp had once stood, Graver decided that his recon team wasn't the biggest priority. This was a new development and--

Sudden gunshots to the north-- the total opposite side of town from the fireball.

Graver whirled around in his seat. On a grassy hillside, beyond the tiny town, muzzle flashes lit up the night, looking like tiny electrical sparks. They were moving, retreating down the hill to the tree line. It was a pursuit of some sort. A moving firefight.

Galloway's team. They were under fire.

For just a moment, Graver glanced back and forth between the two. The gun fight, or the wreckage.

He glanced over at Lucy. The sudden chaos of it all was dawning on her features, and she looked young, innocent, and absolutely terrified.

"What do you want to do?" She asked, her eyes were huge behind her glasses.

Do something. Pick one and commit. Graver spun the wheel and gunned the engine. The Jeep's tires squealed on the wet road as it about-faced. Then they were racing back toward the bridge, back to camp.

Galloway could hold her own. She'd have to. Graver potentially had men down-- including his future wife. And he wasn't about to go charging blindly into a gunfight with an inexperienced civilian woman under his care.

Lucy looked back over her shoulder, watching the display of gunfire on the hillside. It was like tiny fireworks.

"What are we doing?" She asked.

"Making sure Halley and the rest of the team are alright," Graver answered grimly, reaching for his radio.

"What about Lincoln, Poe, and Chaney?" She asked. "Halley said they were missing."

"They're the safest out of all of us. They're seeing the same things we are, and are probably on the way right now to help." Graver started talking rapidly into the radio, trying to reach any of his team.

"What about Lieutenant Galloway?"

"She's a professional, she can hold her own." Graver said. He sighed, hating himself right now. "I know it's a shitty thing to say, but right now the priority is assisting anyone who might have been hurt by that blast. With any luck, everyone is okay. I can drop you off, and take the rest of the team up to assist Galloway."

The Jeep raced through town and toward the bridge. By the time they were crossing Jernigan Creek, Galloway's voice was coming in over the radio. "Galloway to all units, shots fired, shots fired! We are taking fire from unknown assailants. Approximately a dozen or more unidentified individuals. I've got men down. Requesting assistance!"

Though her voice was calm and collected, there was a breathy quality to it that made Graver's hands tighten on the wheel. Heavy breathing. She was running.

Graver peered back one last time as he crossed the bridge. In the fields, among the muzzle flashes, a light began to bloom. Flames. Battling against the rain and the storms, a spreading orange fire blossomed and spread where Galloway's team was pinned down. They'd set fire to the fields of grass. It was all burning.

*** TO BE CONTINUED... ***