Jägersmuth Pt. 02

She swigged the last of her water. The familiar sound of the bell echoed over the hills, and she realised that it was the sound that had woken her up.

It couldn't possibly have been 24 hours yet -- and though she could only guess, she felt confident that the bell would only be rung when only one person remained. To bring them, and any remaining hunters, back to the house.

She began walking in the vague direction she guessed it could be. The bell rang several more times, and taking herself to high ground wherever possible, she eventually saw the gaudy structure in the distance once more. From there she went as the crow flies, not caring much about whether she was mistaken -- it had simply been too long and too exhausting to keep guessing. If this really was it, they could have her. But there was nobody else in sight. They had to have all returned, by now.

She stretched out as she walked, swinging her step, doing her best to enjoy the sunlight and breeze on her tired body. She'd been naked out in the open for long enough now that it felt ordinary, but this was a new and freeing feeling. In the knowledge that everyone on site was in a similar state of undress, and now almost certain that she was free and clear of the obligations that her signature had blithely bound her to, she was able to indulge in it. The sensations of the outdoors, and the sense of her own beauty. Her warm-toned, Rubenesque figure. Her hair as it whipped around her face. She smiled.

And soon enough, the house was within reach, and sitting on the same bench from which they'd departed, an espresso in front of him, was Jörg. He stood and grinned, calmly, waiting for her to come to him, an evidently rested face atop those mountainous shoulders. He couldn't have been out with the rest of the crowd. This was a fully slept man, and what's more, fully clothed, with a fresh crisp white shirt tucked into those roomy slacks. When she was close enough to hear him, he called out.

"Our winner arrives."

---

Georgia all but omitted the next hour from memory out of sheer tiredness. In the blur of her recollection, she had been greeted with a hug, and ushered into the house, down into the basement, where the spa itself sprawled. She'd been checked over by a medic, her cuts and scrapes treated with antiseptic, and was interviewed briefly about her mental state. She'd finally been allowed to use a proper bathroom, and outside, attendants awaited to bring her to a spacious cubic shower room with a large monsoon fixture, and the same attendants soaped and scrubbed her from head to toe. When they requested permission to clean her intimately, she accepted, and after the night she'd had, and the things she'd witnessed, the invasiveness of the procedure was easily welcome. And yet, it felt suitably on the side of therapeutic. The men were dutiful professionals. She felt cared for, and cleansed.

A silk robe, and flipflops, and she was ushered back upstairs to a small side room with a table and chairs, where Jörg awaited.

"You've been taken care of?"

"Yes, thank you." She smiled.

"Congratulations on your victory. The other girls you came with, they might get pretty jealous. Are you okay with that?"

Georgia considered revealing her initial obliviousness to the event she'd involved herself in, but the embarrassment got the better of her. Jörg was her age, attractive, foreign, strong-looking... and wealthy. She wanted to make a good impression. She wanted to leave open the possibility of having some fun with him, before having to go home.

"We'll work it out. We all knew what we were getting into, right?"

The German smiled. "Of course."

"Where are they, now?"

"Oh, just outside in the pit with everybody else."

"The pit?"

"You'll see, it's like a miniature colosseum."

"So they're still... partying?"

"Oh, yes." He smiled again. "They've all had some sleeps, some rests, of course, but they've been wonderful guests. This has been a successful event."

Georgia blushed. "To be honest, I... um."

"You want to join in with the party too?"

She gave a sheepish smile. "I've never done anything like this before. Even though I won, I'm curious." She remembered Alice. Would she even be welcome with the rest of the girls? "There's just... one thing..."

"Oh. You mean the betrayal?"

Georgia's blood ran cold. "I think... I must mean that, yes. With Alice."

"Yes, we all heard about that."

"She told everybody?"

He nodded. The feeling of guilt swelled.

"Don't worry. It's all part of the game, and we've seen this before. Nobody got hurt, right? Everyone had fun?"

"I guess so..."

"So, you're feeling comfortable?"

She nodded again. She was feeling incredibly nervous, but not about the gargantuan mass of bodies she was picturing just outside. Just about whatever words Alice would have prepared for her. For all intents and purposes, she was "comfortable".

"Super. So, in a moment, we'll go out through the barn, and we can announce you as the winner. Sounds good?"

Georgia smiled again. "Yeah. Yeah, sounds good."

"Alright then." He stood up. "Please follow me."

They departed through a door opposite the one she'd entered, down a corridor made mostly of that old stonework, and through a very battered looking wooden door, into a very spacious, and almost completely empty, wooden barn.

Almost empty. In the dead centre of the concrete floor, there was an odd wooden construction. Jörg stopped ahead of her, and she broke her stride next to him, standing in her robe and slippers, staring at the thing.

At first glance, she took it for some kind of antiquated agricultural device: the main wooden beam was certainly very old -- in fact, it could easily have been as old as the original house. It reminded her of a rather thicker rail sleeper, or... no, a Pommel Horse, but there were other features. Leather loops adorned the sides, as well as two rather larger belts that seemed purposed to loop all the way around. The frame had lever-like extensions at the end nearest her, that seemed to be folded under at present, but bore another set of heavy-looking loops. The thing was mounted on a wooden trolley with plenty of standing room, and between the trolley and the beam, there was some sort of crank-like mechanism.

Georgia did not have to look at it for all that long to know that she was beholding what amounted to a torture device.

"Is... is that--"

It wouldn't have mattered if Georgia had noticed that the same attendants who had given her a very comprehensive bodily cleaning had been standing next to the door when they'd walked in, just behind them. Strong arms restrained her by her elbows from behind, and just as quickly, a piece of cloth was looped around her mouth and bound tight behind her head.

The sense of shock was unreal, and shook her more awake than she'd been in many hours. Shouting through the gag, and thrashing with total futility -- her physical strength was virtually nonexistent on a good day -- she was escorted forwards by the two men. Another two proceeded forward to meet them next to the bench, and she was wrestled out of the robe, kicking instinctively as a set of muscular arms seized her around each leg and hoisted her off the floor. The group guided her spreadeagled body over the bench and deposited her face down on the hard, but mercifully varnished, wood, each grabbing a limb and guiding her wrists and ankles through the leather loops, binding her tight against the thing. Another strap was looped round the back of her neck, and the small of her back, her head hanging off the end. She struggled violently against the restraints, attempting to roll herself off the thing, or possibly tip it over. The restraints held, as she knew in futility they would. She made a frustrated growling sound, straddling the large beam of wood as the men ignored her and double-checked each restraint.

Jörg came into view. Red around the eyes, she gave him a pleading glare and growled through the gag again.

"Yes," he said, softly, stroking her hair without even bending down. Her eyes were level with his groin, and she could see that he was hard through his slacks. He hadn't been before -- the act of restraining her must have brought it out. "Well, this is the rule. We don't get to do this every event. But..." he smiled. "There's still so much time left in the day."

He walked forward and threw open the barn doors. Ahead of her, she could see a concrete plateau with the tops of many people's heads just visible, several of the masked men sitting on the circle of steps leading down into what must have the aforementioned pit. Jörg walked outside, and the platform began to move, the attendants wheeling her forward through the doors of the barn. Sunlight hit her skin just as the feeling of nauseous anticipation truly set in -- everyone, everyone would witness her like this, and everything that followed.

The hardness of the wood was already bothering her -- it seemed to be the point of the object, to rule out comfort. It seemed stupid to even question it, but she cursed herself for not even having anticipated something like this. She knew by now what she had signed away. She didn't know why she would assume, without even asking, that the winner would be spared the sadism and humiliation of the rest. She could hear the swirling sound of her pulse in her ears. A sheen of sweat coated her freshly cleaned body. She couldn't control her breathing, and air shivered irregularly in and out of her nostrils.

She could see the pit. They were somewhere behind the house, in an area encircled by trees and shrubbery, theoretically providing plenty of shade, but direct sunlight persisted nonetheless. A wide circle of steps suitable for use as benches, with naked, masked men sitting on every tier, all of them watching the festivities on the floor. She tried to make sense of the throng of naked bodies: she spotted Aubrey first, almost directly in front of her. Her face screwed up in exhausted agony, her knees on one tier, hands on another, her body lurching violently as one of the masked men fucked her remorselessly hard. No -- there was someone underneath her, too. Georgia's shock jumped as she realised that both men were inside the bride-to-be, with other onlookers awaiting their turn.

Further into the centre of the pit, Christine and Melissa, her normally pale body marbled a variety of dark purple tones, seemed to have been united, perhaps predictably, due to their similarity in size and shape. The two lithe young women were kissing one another passionately as they bounced, each mounted squat on a recumbent male, their nearest hands holding one another's bodies for support, opposing fists wrapped around more cocks, amid a semicircle of expectant erections.

Her scan of the orgy brought her to a hunched crowd of men's bodies on the far side of the pit. Multiple aggressive thrusting motions towards the centre. It was almost comical -- like the clouds that contain cartoon characters during a fight, but horribly rhythmic. She spied two dainty, muddy feet, each resting on the shoulders of a different assailant. Perhaps it was that Alice had been the penultimate survivor, that she was the freshest body among them, or perhaps something about her attitude brought it out in people. But it was perfectly clear that at that moment, she was suffering the crowd's most raw and intense aggression.

So far, she reminded herself.

Jörg stood in front of her, and bellowed a deafening alert to the site.

Gradually, the movement ceased. People disentangled themselves, bringing their attention in the direction of the barn. To the sight of Georgia, manacled to the wooden construction above them.

Knowing smirks and laughter broke out among the masked crowd. There was a smattering of tentative applause. The girls grinned, too, at the sight of her. Melissa and Christine, at whose torment she'd allowed herself to feel an unquestionable delight, now mirrored that same cruel joy from the centre of the circle. Aubrey's face was something more of a glare, with her mouth turned up at the corners. Georgia turned her stare back to the far side, in time to see Alice, eyes streaming, neck reddened, tremble half-upright and make ferocious eye contact.

"Oh, fuck yes." Her hateful roar echoed around the otherwise silent venue. "Your turn, you fucking bitch."

Another wave of cruel laughter throughout the crowd. Georgia winced, and bit down on her gag, soaking it.

"Now, now." Jörg held up his hands to steady their audience. "We're all here in good fun."

He gestured back towards Georgia, and as she turned, she noticed the bulge in his trousers again.

"So, I am very happy to present to you the winner of this hunt, the Bride Of The Land." Whooping, and further applause. "Georgia survived the longest, and will receive the full cash prize."

He stepped back a little, placing a warm hand on top of her head. Her eyes darted around the gathering of bodies. All of them stared straight back into hers.

"Now, every hunt, we have some rule-breakers, but as we all know, breaking the rules can lead to some of the most fun of the whole event." He went on. "This time, Melissa chose to wear underwear out into the field, and she was punished... or, rewarded, depending on your tastes." More whooping. Christine leaned over and gave Melissa a dramatic kiss on the cheek.

"And I don't think I need to remind anyone of Aubrey's transgression." Louder laughter, clapping, and cheering. Aubrey seemed amused, clapping both hands over her mouth and doubling over in mock embarrassment.

"But rarely do we get the chance to involve the winner." His hand closed around her hair, pulling her head upwards, fully facing the crowd. It stung, and Georgia gave a muffled yelp. "This year, Georgia chose to break a cardinal rule: No Treachery."

They actually booed. She began sweating harder, and the hotness in her face spread to the rest of her body. She trembled. The realisation finally hit her: she hadn't simply omitted to understand the conditions of her victory. She was being punished.

Jörg removed his hand, and unbuttoned his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. "And we thank her for giving us this opportunity." Roars, cheers, hollers, the loudest applause yet, with Alice and the rest of the girls joining in the chorus as the tall, muscular German kicked off his sandals and slid his trousers and underwear to the floor.

"As many of you know, I like to save myself until the hunt has concluded. Incline, please." He walked around to the back of the platform, but she managed to glimpse his cock before he disappeared from view. Large, to her experience, and it looked very hard.

She quickly learned what Incline meant. The bench shook as an attendant turned the crank underneath her, and the beam rotated, bringing her head higher until she was able to rest her chin in place, now looking straight down on the crowd, none of whom had resumed their activities. All eyes were on her.

As soon as the turning of the crank stopped, she felt hands, his hands, gripping her buttocks and spreading her open. Fingers slid between her vulva, not quite penetrating her, but testing.

"You're already wet, that's good."

She was. She had known it. Something about being restrained and prepared for sex was activating her body in a way she couldn't explain.

She felt his glans slide easily between her lips, and the rest of that achingly hard cock followed, filling her until he met resistance. Her pussy welcomed the penetration, and she moaned through the cloth, unable to hide her pleasure or her humiliation from the rapt throng. His hands moved up to her waist, and gripped her tightly. She felt his legs against the backs of hers, his stance wide above the beam. He showed no restraint, pushing and pulling with immediate speed and force, staying deep inside her and pushing her as far up the wooden beam as each thrust would allow.

Attempting to hide from the stares of perhaps sixty people at once, she shut her eyes. With them closed, there was little to keep her from focusing on the sensation ravaging her lower body, the simple, darkly satisfying feeling of his large, hard cock pumping violently inside her. She clawed at the wood, her feet rotating helplessly, her back and waist wanting to arch and squirm without the freedom to do so. He gripped tighter, nails digging in. Every thrust mashed his balls against her clit. She grunted as he found his depth. She found herself trying to move in time with him, to back into him. She would never have agreed to this, and yet, as he used her in full view of friends and strangers, she craved it. Her clit throbbed gratefully. Involuntarily, her pussy squeezed him tighter.

She felt him throbbing, and opened her eyes wide without thinking. The German doubled over, pressing his forehead into the space between her shoulderblades, and he groaned into her back, the vibrations of his voice exciting her as much as the sensation of his cock twitching as it delivered his cum into her. She squealed, her eyebrows raising in surprise while he emptied himself into her, and she met the stare of the crowd again, burning with the humiliation of being fucked to insemination, without a hope to budge, in front of all of them.

Her perspiration mixed with the the few tears that had gathered in her eyes, blurring her vision. She blinked, hard, several times, to try and recover clarity. He slid out of her, his touch leaving her body and she winced, the sensation of his cock being dragged free tormenting her like a final thrust that left her isolated before the crowd once more. Her cunt quivered and convulsed, freshly fucked, and already missing him. She shut her eyes again and gave a humiliated moan to her audience as his load streamed back out of her and ran down the wood between her thighs.

Eyes open again. A round of applause and a few cheers as the tall German walked back in front of her, as naked as she was before them. She was still breathing heavily, grunting. She couldn't help it; her body was electrified with forced pleasure and embarrassment, overloaded with alarm that was indistinguishable from excitement. Was that it? That couldn't possibly have been it. No. He'd only fucked her as a prelude to what was to come.

"This year's Bride has a splendid pussy." She glared at the back of his head, moaning again in protest. "It was an honour to enjoy it while it was still fresh."

Still fresh.

"Now, we have a particular custom for this occasion." His cum continued to stream out of her, warm as it dripped from her swollen clit. "Before the rest of you get the opportunity to meet our winner in person, we would like to offer her fellow contestants the opportunity to reacquaint themselves with their friend."

Oh no. Oh fuck. Georgia's heart beat a fast rhythm. Alice.

While the other girls rose to a standing position from the recumbent crowd and made their way up the steps towards her, Alice, the furthest way, was barging forward, moving as quick as she could, her lips in a wild snarl as the two fixed their eyes on one another from across the space. The other three were already gathering in front of her, staring calmly up at her face with amusement.

"Could you bring her level, please? Flat?" Aubrey asked. The contraption began to pivot noisily back towards the ground. "Thanks. Just so we can reach everything."

The beam snapped into its horizontal position with a loud clunk. She felt a cloth -- presumably one of the attendants -- wiping the cum away from her, and wiping down the wood, too. Christine and Melissa had walked past her face, their fingers trailing in her hair and down the back of her neck, accompanied by shivers. They seemed to search her, two pairs of hands travelling down her back and testing every inch: more shivers and tingles as they found the groove of her back and tickled her waist. Their nails scraping ever so carefully up the backs of her thighs, pulling back down to her knees, and then scraping up once more, never quite reaching where she wanted them to. She shuddered and twitched as their teasing crept under her skin, wanting to be touched properly, wanting more, wanting them, her maddened nerves and muscles searching involuntarily for a deeper touch.