Stacy Puma Ch. 02: Posse Whipped

Waking up at the crack of Dawn was never easy.

The mountain air chilly but refreshing helped. Especially when your attic apartment had no furnace to warm up by. Merely a space heater on the floor. One that Stacy Puma rarely used for fear of catching her happy home on fire. Sleeping under multiple blankets including a large Beaver fur comforter that was passed down from her Great Grandmother when she passed away. It gave her History meaning. Her Apache heritage meant a lot to her. Yet, the modern ways of the Whiteman consumed her. She could live without possessions but it was nice to have. The fur was so warm and cozy Stacy hated getting out of bed.

She knew she had too. Committed to her three mile run each morning. Sometimes accompanied by her brother Griffin. She never knew when he would join her though. Being a local Police Officer kept him busy. Between that and his girlfriend Bree. For the most part Stacy was on her own.

It was a rough life though. Her Apartment above her brothers garage was tiny but heartfelt. Decorated with tribal memories. Photos on the wall of her family in better times. She loved her parents but they were rarely around as she grew up. Alcoholics both they spent most of their off time drunk and high. She managed to avoid that curse. However she liked the occasional cigarette to relax by. With no real income she chose to make a single pack last two weeks. Yesterday she brought home $300. That helped her habit. A carton bought would last her a month or more. Food essential but again she rarely ate much anyway. Growing up with parents that blew their hard earned cash on themselves taught her to survive without. That favor helped her maintain her body weight. She loved her body.

A nude sleeper she crawls from bed finally and stretches. Opening up her only window let the fresh air revive her. She would smoke her morning cigarette. Her exhibitionist tendencies led her down a back staircase on the outside of the garage. Her brother had fashioned an outdoor shower for her. Water running from the house. A cold reminder of her less than thrilling life. Standing beneath a cold rain she shivered and closed her eyes. Cleansing her spirit was something she learned from her Great Grandfather. That and the shrill native cry of "HOLY SHIT!"

Washing away her past life she dried off and pinched her nipples good morning. She loved exciting herself. Griffin's house was too her left yet out of direct view of her shower. He had put up a curtain but the winds kept knocking it down. Finally she convinced him to let the world see. She loved her freedom. Although a Cop who could object to her indecent exposure he allowed it. He loved his baby sister. The one thing he didn't agree with was a wide open toilet. He build a wooden fence around it and gave it a roof in case of rain or snow. During the Winter he would allow her the use of the home he and Bree lived in. Sure she could use those facilities anytime she wanted. But, Stacy needed independence. Only during the cold months would she agree to shower in the house.

Within the proverbial Outhouse he built a basin. However it was a large bowl. She would have to fill her bowl from the shower to use to wash her hands or brush her teeth. A tiny mirror hung over the basin. As she brushed her teeth she motivated herself for her morning run. At least the cigarette taste was gone.

Stepping from her Outhouse Stacy smelled coffee. Turning to her left she found her source.

"Morning Streaker."

"Hey Bree. Griffin going running this morning?"

Her brothers girlfriend was a stunning redhead with lily white skin. Her long red hair curly and full. Brilliant green eyes sparkled at all times. Thin with long legs and a meager 32C set of tits. She had brought Stacy a mug of coffee freshly brewed.

"Not this time. He had to cover a late shift. He needed sleep. Coffee?"

"Thanks." Claiming the steaming mug she sipped then blew into it to cool the brew down.

"I'll never get used to your hatred of clothing."

"In time. I love my freedom. Besides we don't have any neighbors behind the property."

"Not behind. But, we do beside us. You do know "Kahane" watches you when he's home."

Kahane Bridges was an elder African American male. Discharged from the Army back in the 90's when he lost his legs due to a mortar attack in Afghanistan. He lived the quiet life resorting to tooling around in a wheelchair. He was harmless.

"If it gives him a thrill I'm all for it. He's a sweetheart." Stacy shrugs with a coy smile.

Bree merely shakes her head, "Anyway! What's on your agenda today? Job hunting?"

"Most likely. I've shot out a dozen online job applications in the last three days. Nobody wants me."

"You're beautiful. They need to see you in person. I never had faith in faceless applications."

"Right. I'll head into the city later and shake my booty. Just need to get my morning run in first. Thanks for the coffee."

"Any time. I'm off Dispatch today. Need a ride?"

Stacy offers a expression of deep thought while puckering her lips, "No. I plan on being out all day. Determination."

Shaking her head again Bree grins at her future Sister-in-law. She knew the girl well enough to see mischief in her eyes.

"Okay. Good luck."

"I'll need it."

Stacy heads back up the wooden stairwell and finishes her coffee. The mug left on her TV tray end table beside a beige loveseat. Going to her dresser she chooses what to wear. Deciding upon a pair of skin tight grey sport shorts that revealed her ass cheeks in all of their curvaceous freedom. They were so tight they creeped up inside her cheeks leaving a sweet shadow that would stop traffic for a better look. Swearing off panties she had a cameltoe that smiled hello to everyone. Loving her firm tummy she wore a matching grey tank style bra. It was made of t-shirt cotton material and held up by micro thin shoulder straps. Her chest was made to bounce. Firmness didn't bother her a bit. Let the girls dance. No pain no gain she thought.

Pink striped gym socks reached her kneecaps. Pink tennis shoes her final touch.

Ready to run she snatches up her cell tucks it in her shorts directly over her pubes. On vibrate if anyone would call her. The tightness of her shorts would keep it from falling out. Tiny IPod with earplugs inserted she chose her jams and headed down her staircase. Reaching the drive she looks up and down the street. No traffic much in this area of town outside of home owners. Heading East on the sidewalk she looks over to see old man Kahane sitting on his porch in his wheelchair. Waving on her way by she blew him a kiss to make his day. He loved to watch her shake her ass. That was one fine booty.

Rocking out to "Led Zeppelin's, Immigrant Song" she puckered her lips and worked up a healthy sweat. The neighborhood was middle class for the most part. Run down homes for sale everywhere she looked. Mostly a Mexican population mixed with Whites. Not so much Gangbanger's as wannabes. Regardless the Men loved her when she jogged by. Titties bobbing wildly. Nipples erect and pointing at them. Even without hearing them directly she knew damned well they expressed wolf calls and crude sexual comments. She shook her head seeing them act out fucking her from behind. On her way by she wiggled an index finger to behave. Her smirk letting them know differently.

She loved her solo runs. If Griffin was with her she would straighten up. She was fearless but respected her Brother. Never worried for her safety because he had taught her how to defend herself. Griffin was a third degree black belt. Even before his enlistment in the Military. She might not have been a black belt herself but she had a mean right hook.

Reaching a park with bike paths she switched directions and followed them. Other runners were out in force. Very friendly runners. Very expressive runners. Some would turn and jog backwards just to see her bare cheeks dancing on her way by. Others oncoming huffed their cheeks at her chest and offered a squeezing motion with extended hands. She stuck her tongue out and kept on going. To those she found cute she would reach in front of her and lift her bra to let them see her bouncing beauties as she went by. She was always met with happy faces. If she liked them enough she would pull her bra back into place the move her hands behind her to drag down her shorts for a full on moon. While leaving them behind to get off later.

Knowing her mile markers she stops to catch her breath and stretch. Touching her toes as Men ran by. Side to side. Arching her chest out for their viewing pleasure. In her mind every single one of these guys came out each day just to see her. She recognized almost every guy she came across. Teasing was so much fun.

In her stretching she feels her cell vibrate over her lower tummy. She shivered at the sensation so close to her clitoral area. Removing it she examines a text.

"That Xander dude."

Reading the text he writes, "Stopping by the Library today?"

Instead of texting she just calls him. Three rings he answers.

"Wassup X-Man?" She chuckles.

"Wow! I didn't expect an actual call. How's it going ApacheSlut?"

"Great. I'm getting in my morning run. Three miles every day."

He sounded impressed, "Haven't been jogging in over a year. Too busy with College. Sounds fun though. What are you wearing?" He had to ask.

"Don't start breathing heavy, Paleface." She giggles.

"And, she's racist. Go figure."

"Not really. I just like torturing guys."

"Saw that up close and personal. Tortured me pretty good."

"Oh yeah? Beat off after I left?"

"Hell yes. You complaining?"

"Your hand. Your time. Hope it was good for you."

"Good enough. You always so cocky?"

"24/7! Comes with the genes. Ever know an Apache to not be arrogant?" She hisses playfully.

"Guess I haven't met many Apaches. Especially hot ones."

"That's not a smoke signal you see in the sky. That's the steam coming off this sexy body of mine."

Laughter fills the airwaves.

"You never answered me. What are you wearing?"

She smirks noting a pair of guys jogging her way. A buddy system. They were checking her out with awe.

"Give me a minute I'll send a selfie."

She puts her cell on mute and sets up her cell cam. Waving at the two men she motions them over. They glanced at each other chuckling at unheard words. They joined her without looking too eager. They were though.

"Morning." One spoke.

"Can I ask a huge favor?" She sheepishly grins.

"Sure. What do you need?"

"This guy I'm talking to wants to know what I'm wearing. Could you take a few pictures of me?"

Both men peak their eyebrows and nod their consent.

"Great. My cell is on mute so he can't hear us. Take one of me posing. Ready?"

The taller man holds her cell primed to snap her photo when she told him too.

"Say Cheese." He ushers.

She begins to stretch forcing her breasts to bulge in the process. Offering a devastating smile she whimpers, "Cheese."

Photo taken she turns her back to them and bends over slightly. Her ass round and solid. Her palms caress her cheeks as she peers over her shoulder.

"Say Spank Me." The shorter man jokes.

Stacy winks and slaps her cheeks to signal the photographer. Another photo taken.

"Need any more?" He offers.

"Sure. Any ideas?"

The shorter man puffs his cheeks, "That's asking a Lion not to pounce."

She giggles, "My last name is Puma. So I love pouncing. Just tell me what you want."

Both men agree, "You naked."

She hops in step her back still too them. Before their eyes she yanks her shorts down and steps out of them. In bending over her clam shell popped into view. Her shadowed butt hole puckering to please. Over her head her bra is removed and she finally looks back at them with a devilish grin.

"Say Seduce me." The shorter man huffs admiring her stunning flesh. This bitch was smoking hot. Both men popped a hard on instantly. Picture after picture he snapped. Every time she chose another pose. During the photo shoot a number of other joggers approached. Some that had passed her earlier. Seeing her nude they stopped and watched with interest. This made Stacy very, very wet.

Waving at the guys she calls them over. Surrounded by five now she plans a strategy. Explaining to them what she wanted. Switching photographers Stacy applied their assistance more intimately. A sixth man joined them during discussion. Coaxing the first two assistants to come toward her she addressed their arrival.

"One on each side of me. You behind me." She points to the shorter gentleman, " I want you to reach under my armpits and palm my tits. Like a human bra. You can squeeze them if you like." He crouches low and hides his face behind her. Her tits were soft and playful. He had to roll them around a bit. Stacy giggled and enjoyed his attentions. As fearless as ever she wasn't worried of this getting out of hand.

"Okay. You kneel beside me but do your best not to be in the picture." She guides the taller guy, "I only want your hand in it if possible. Reach under my legs from behind and place your palm over my pussy. I want it to look like your hand is my underwear."

The tallest of the two complies crouching next to her and hesitantly moving into position. Fingers closing over her inner thigh he immediately feels her wetness.

The surrounding guys were entertained by her ideas. After weeks of seeing this young lady jog past them they were putty in her hands. Each of them had formed some fantasy since first noticing this sweet young thing. With her two handymen in place and as hidden from the camera as much as possible the new Photographer takes his best shot. Zooming in on her from the upper thighs to the top of her raven black hair. She had moved her hands up to frolic amid her locks, fingers fanning her silky strands for a more seductive pose.

From below her the taller man who was palming her pussy lowered his hand to reveal her arrowhead pubes for a sexier shot. In doing so his middle finger compressed within her clitoral arena. The sudden caress made Stacy flare up her eyes just as the picture was taken.

"That one brought out my eyes." She exhaled through her puckered lips.

"More?" The man behind her asked while kneading at her breasts. Her nipples exposed through the separation of his fingers. Pinching them at an interesting angle. It gave her goosebumps.

"Couple more. I don't want my friend to think I hung up on him." She has a second thought concerning that, "Hold on a second. Nobody move." She reaches out for her cell. The man brought it too her just long enough to take Xander off mute.

"Give me a few more minutes. I didn't hang up on you I swear. Please hold." She then returns it to the Photographer after muting it again.

Stepping away the Photographer returned to his mark. During their time out more arrivals slowed in step to observe her exhibition. This time women were taking part. Amazed by her boldness. They however kept their distance and chattered quietly.

Admiration was evident.

"Another shot while these guys are in place. You two decide if you want to reposition." She wiggles her ass coyly.

The man behind her stepped directly up and rubbed his crotch on her ass. She could feel his erection touching her through his shorts. A massive hard on raged.

"Feels like someone is growing trees." Stacy giggled at his sporting wood.

"Too much?" He leans in to whisper in her ear.

She fidgets her lips, "As long as the tree doesn't shed its bark."

Below her the other man uses his middle and ring finger to slip up inside her pussy. Keeping his pinky and index outside to emphasize his entry. This challenged Stacy forcing a gasp.

"Hooboy. Unexpected."

"It's just for a picture." He looks up with a wink.

Huffing her hair strands from her mouth she eyes the Cameraman and motions to take the photo. One perfect picture later the Man below removes his fingers. Frowning at him she missed their temporary home. She knew to let them continue that type of treatment would escalate their hormones. Her own were already surging faster.

Still, Stacy always wanted to push herself. It couldn't be helped.

"Do you two mind having your faces in the picture?" She enquires as they step away slightly.

Shrugging they both shake their heads. They were game.

"How about you three? Want to pose with me?"

The Photographer accepted. As did the two men beside him who walk her direction. Surrounding her she looks at each of them while flaring her eyes. They were certainly nice to look at in all of their testosterone. Their eyes checking her out from head to toe. She shivered with intensity at their looks of desire.

"Okay. Remember people are watching so let's not get too aggressive." She winces then nibbling her lower lip.

"Tell us what you want." A new arrival nodded.

"Let's see. Shortest guy behind me replacing my breast friend back there. Squeeze my tits. Tallest hottie behind him. Stretch your arms over his shoulders to wrap your hands around my throat. Like you're choking me."

Looking down at her feet she directs the others to palm her pussy again while gripping her left leg. One holding her right leg tightly. Two men gripping her outstretched arms with a glint of forcefulness. Once everyone was in position they agreed to look convincing. Smiling like a demon in heat Stacy Puma calls out, "Everyone say Bondage."

The second they spoke the word the man covering her pussy again buried his fingers up inside her. This time wiggling them about within her. The motion sent Stacy's thoughts spiraling.

"Shit that feels good." She whispers.

Photo taken they remain in position.

"More?" The Man probing her interior had left them inserted.

"Let's do this." She shivers.

One of the women grew curious and walked amongst the men. She was White with short blond hair. Fit and lovely.

"Can I suggest things?"

Stacy grins at her, "Go for it."

"Let me pull your hair to make this look really sexy. As if you're our prisoner."

Stacy chuckles, "I think I am."

The Men join in her laughter. The blond stepping behind her to stand beside the two men. Reaching up she grips Stacy's hair from behind and actually yanks it hard. Her head snapping back and looking strained. Everyone increased their efforts. Hands tightening about her throat. Breaths crushed beneath a strengthening grip. Her arms held with an immobile lock. Legs pulled apart and holding her upright firmly. Fingers digging deeper inside her pussy. He was now finger fucking her whether she allowed it or not.

Stacy moaned at her human shackles. This torture was fucking hot. They had built a Fortress of hands around her.

Multiple pictures snapped in that pose. Nobody wanted to let go. Stacy ordinarily hated losing control. Today was just one of those days.

"Holy smoke! This is really fun." She sighs at her captors.

"Had enough pictures?" The blond speaks out.

"Any other ideas?" Stacy hoped.

The blond giggles, "I have one. If you can handle it."

"I'm listening. As if I have a choice." The men remained holding her with a greedy devotion.

The blond moves from behind to face Stacy. She then turns her back crouching before the Apache beauty. With a graceful contortion she arches her upper body under Stacy's pussy and extends her tongue until it touched her clit. She managed to do this without the Man removing his fingers from inside Stacy.

Adding fuel to the fire the blond lifts her own shirt exposing her breasts to everyone. She pinched her nipples taunt as the picture is taken. Then came the applause. All of the Men loved this addition. Stacy included.

"So fuckin' Hot!" Stacy quaked.

Ideas erupted quickly. Stacy just went along for the ride. Behind her the taller Man who began as her first Photographer stepped closer rubbing his own shorts against her bare bottom. This time however he took it a step further. Pulling his cock out he slides it along her butt crack. Stacy knew it was flesh on flesh contact immediately and rolled her eyes. She was still reeling from her fingering below. She just hoped things wouldn't get too intimate. Sex was not what she intended. Still, his trailing beast was intriguing. His hands return to surrounding her throat tightly.