The Gauntlet

It took Emma longer to recover than she hoped. She had mismanaged things, using up her strength too soon, and with no idea how many events lay ahead. If she didn't get moving again her partner would soften. Again she cursed herself. Again she found a way forward.

Pressing her lithe body against the stranger, she could push herself down onto his cock without lifting herself on her legs. She did so, welcoming the still-firm shaft into her pussy. Her breasts were pushed against his chest, while her lips were against his neck. Relying more on her arms, she slid forward then back again. The man moaned.

"You like that?" she asked, her lips just inches from his ear.

"Unh," he groaned.

After only a few pumps she could feel the trembling in his body again. She was getting back on track, but was he close enough? How much time was left? She picked up the pace, her slick insides welcoming his hard cock. He was enjoying himself, but didn't seem like he was about to cum. Did older guys really have more staying power? Was he going to hold out as long as he could on purpose, enjoying her pussy while time ran out? No way, Emma thought. She would use her age as an advantage, too. She leaned forward.

"Yeah?" she asked.

"Ahhhh yeah," he said.

"One minute!" she marshall warned. It was almost time.

"You like that fresh pussy? That eighteen year-old pussy?" If she had fantasized about being taken by an older guy, surely older guys fantasized about young women.

"Fuck!" the stranger said, simply. Emma felt his cock jerk inside her.

"Did you like taking it?" she asked sweetly, her lips brushing his ear.

"Oh my god," he gasped.

Emma picked up her pace, sliding up and down his shaft, gyrating against the base. The cock jerked inside her again.

"Pop in it. Cum in my teen pussy," she teased. "I... oh!"

The orgasm caught her by surprise. Emma shuddered, clamping her pussy tight. "Oh," she gasped. "Oh, fuck!" A spasm ripped through her as she collapsed once again against her partner. Her fingers dug into his arms as she lost control. "Oh, ooooooooooh!" The world shrunk to just her, the cock impaling her, and the overwhelming rush of ecstasy.

"Oh shit baby. Ah... you're so wet." The stranger's hips bucked hard. "I'm... I can't, oh fuck."

Beneath Emma, the stranger went stiff. He was cumming.

"Ah, ahhhhhh, fu, fuuuuuuck!" The man she had been riding bucked so hard he almost dislodged Emma, who was still gripped by her own ecstasy. His hips arched for what seemed like an eternity.

Emma felt a pulse of cum blast into her, followed by another. The two were climaxing together, Emma nearing the end of her spasm, while the stranger practically roared through his. Her slit was impossibly wet.

"Oh, fucking take it in that pussy. Omigod!" Another pulse of cum filled her, as at last the stranger collapsed. The two lay together, exhausted and panting. Emma's trembling slowly subsided. From somewhere far away, she heard the sound of laughter.

"Time," the marshall said, giggling. "I mean, Emma, your profile says you're an overachiever, but shit! Five seconds off?"

Groggily, Emma raised her head. Beneath her, the stranger lay inert, breathing but spent. Emma rose, tugging herself free of the man's cock, which fell back against his belly with a slap. Her legs were wobbly, weak with exertion.

"Hey, here" said the marshal, pointing. As promised, her shoes, and also a pair of running shorts, had been left nearby. Still trembling, Emma pulled on both. She was still topless.

"Emma, through there." The marshal indicated a gap in the far side of the little clearing. She was still smiling. "Good luck!"

More stumbling than walking, Emma headed toward the next challenge.

***

The woman who felt more comfortable in the water readied herself for an eight hundred meter run. Her opponent didn't exactly look intimidating. He was clearly at least a decade older than Emma, softness evident in his midsection, and scant tone in his legs. He even looked to be in the early stages of hair loss.

On the other hand, Emma was already exhausted. The jog through the wood had been way too short to give her any time to recover from her recent exertions. She was still panting, and her legs trembled in protest with any movement. She simply wasn't ready to race.

To make matters worse, the 800 was, in Emma's opinion, a cruel distance. Too far to be settled quickly, competitors had to find a rhythm they could maintain for more than two minutes. In Emma's case, even rested, it would be closer to three. She had run some track in middle school, but by high school had committed to swimming. It wasn't her event.

Not that any of this mattered.

"Places," said the marshal, and in no time Emma found herself running as fast as she could manage through yet another wooded path. At least this one was a touch wider, more suitable for a foot race.

It was a mess from the start. Her opponent took off quickly, putting distance between them even before reaching the far side of the clearing. By the time she fell in behind him on the trail, his pale skin was barely visible before her. Emma was in agony. Her legs screamed at her to stop, and her breaths turned into gasps almost immediately. She wasn't running the 800, she was running the last third of a 2K race. Blindly, she staggered forward.

The man she had taken for a sloth was almost out of sight now. It wasn't that he was particularly fast, he was just rested and ready while Emma was exhausted. It wasn't fair.

There would be no shame in slowing up, she thought. There was no chance to beat him at this point, and even if she had done well at the previous tests, getting humiliated in the 800 was sure to be the end of her Broyce ambitions. As exhausted as she was, the very real possibility of injuring herself was also a worry. A twisted ankle could mean a slow start or even dismissal from whatever other university offered her a scholarship. It simply made sense to take it easy.

Or did it? Without realizing it, Emma had erased some of the distance between her and the other runner. He was slowing.

Legs screaming, Emma lurched forward. Her lungs were on fire, but the same must be true for her opponent. His pale back loomed closer yet. The man was no more than twenty meters in front of her. How much farther was their race?

The world suddenly opened as the pair burst out into a large clearing. At the far side was an impromptu finish line and a small crowd. The two runners dashed forward.

It would be close. Beyond exhaustion, Emma's legs pounded the earth gracelessly. She had no form, no spring, just raw effort. Her opponent flailed wildly, his form also gone. The two were spent. Emma's youth and strength gradually closed the distance. The little cluster of witnesses at the finish looked on intently. With the last of her strength Emma flung herself forward.

It wasn't enough. The other runner crossed the line first. Emma collapsed, too exhausted to cry.

The crowd swelled around her, as hands lifted her from the cold ground. In moments Emma was sitting on something soft. Someone pressed a water bottle into her hands. She drank greedily as she slowly caught her ragged breath. The consequences of her failure tormented her. She wanted it to be a bad dream.

"It's okay," someone was saying. "It's okay." The young woman, a Broyce marshal, gave her a towel. Another marshal chased away the small crowd, which Emma noticed consisted both of men and women. "Catch your breath."

The two were sitting side by side on a bed tucked at one end of the clearing. It was larger and more solid than the seemingly portable one from her last test. In fact, with the thick frame of carved wood it looked like something from a master bedroom. It must have been an ordeal to move and reassemble it here.

"Did I lose?" Emma just wanted it to be over. She wiped at the sheen of perspiration.

"No, no," said the marshal swiftly. "This is the final test though."

"What? I thought the race..."

"No," repeated the marshal, placing her hand on Emma's thigh. The sensation was nice, warm and comforting. "You're doing well, Emma." She glanced up at the other marshal, who, having shooed off the crowd, now faced them. The two exchanged a nod.

Emma took in the scene. The bed she rested on was at the narrow end of a teardrop shaped clearing. At the wide end, the little crowd shifted restlessly, just too far into the darkness for closer inspection. There might have been ten people, waiting for something, waiting for her.

"You're doing well, but you're not quite finished." The marshal continued.

"Okay..." Emma started, unsure what to say. If anything, the final test seemed likely to be a continuation of the first two.

"In some ways, this is easier, less physically demanding." The marshal's hand, still on her thigh, gave a comforting squeeze. "We just want you to enjoy yourself. Emma, everyone here wants you to succeed. Everyone wants you to feel good. Being a Broyce woman means hard work, determination, and intelligence. It also means accepting the rewards of that hard work." She was smiling, mischief in her eyes.

"What's she's trying to say," the other marshal said, "is the more you cum the better. You're a lucky young woman Emma."

Around her, the scene shifted. As the marshals withdrew, the cluster of onlookers advanced. They were, as far as Emma could make out, a mix of men and women. All were dressed nicely, in colorful attire. They could only be the other alumni who had gathered earlier with Kassandra. None were as young as Emma. A few appeared still to be in their twenties or early thirties, some were obviously closer to fifty. As with the men she had encountered on the course, all wore eye masks.

A hand brushed her leg, fingers caressed her shoulder. Someone must have knelt behind her. Hands gentle but firm tugged her to the middle of the bed. Her shoes were gone. Everything was happening so fast.

"Hello Emma."

A man stood at the end of the bed, undressing slowly. He pulled off his shirt, revealing a well muscled torso. The touches of grey at his temples matched his chest hair. He began to unbuckle his pants.

"You're a swimmer, right?" The man stepped out of his pants and laid them at the foot of the bed, alongside his shirt.

Excitement and fear seemed to have caught Emma's tongue. All she could do was nod.

"You have a beautiful body, lean and strong." His eyes swept over her, admiringly. Only a pair of boxer briefs remained. Even in the dim light of the clearing she could make out his organ straining against the fabric.

There was more motion around her. A young woman to Emma's left pulled a dress over her head, sending her auburn hair in an arc. She was dressed in simple white bra and panties. Another woman with close cut blonde locks unbuttoned her blouse and peeled off her skirt. Both women joined Emma on the bed, guiding her back. Someone tugged off her running shorts. Once again she was open and naked.

The man removed his boxer briefs, his organ swinging free. Emma sucked in her breath. Her encounters so far had been with men hung much like Zach. They weren't small, but neither had their cocks presented any particular challenge. The same wasn't true with her new partner, whose cock was clearly thicker and longer. The fat head bulged eagerly, and veins popped and crisscrossed the heavy shaft. Emma felt a tingling of fear.

She felt a tingling of arousal.

"Oh my god," whispered the auburn haired girl. Like Emma she couldn't tear her eyes from the man's cock.

The blonde on the other hand didn't turn her attention from Emma. Laying beside her, she stroked Emma's thigh, then belly. She rested her hand only an inch from Emma's breast. She whispered in the eighteen year-old's ear.

"He's my husband," the woman purred. "He fucks hard."

Emma turned to her, confused. "Your husband?" It was difficult to see how old the blonde was. If she was past her mid-thirties she must keep in good shape.

"Mmm," the woman said, now stroking Emma's breast gently. "This is the deal I made with him. He stays in shape, and every year he gets to be part of the Gauntlet." She was smiling, clearly taking some pleasure in Emma's confusion. "My dear, enjoy yourself." With a flick of her eyes, the blonde guided Emma's attention back to her new partner.

He was almost upon her. Kneeling, the stranger gripped Emma's thigh and tugged her toward him. As Emma watched transfixed, the man pushed the head of his cock against her lips. Still wet from her earlier encounters, her slit accepted him.

"Oh my god," the other girl repeated. She seemed absorbed by the sight of the fat cock impaling Emma's tight body.

"Unhh," Emma groaned. Wet or not, the fat head of the stranger's cock stretched her.

"Yeah, it's good," the man said. "Really wet." It wasn't clear if he was talking to Emma or the blonde. He pulled slightly out before surging again.

Emma did her best to remain compliant. Laying back passively, allowing a stranger to have his way with her went against every instinct. With the other men, she had at least been in control. It took the last of her willpower just to open herself to him, to offer her body.

He didn't hesitate. Maintaining a tight grip on her raised thigh, the stranger worked his way into her slick insides. He switched his gaze between where he was entering her, and the expression on her face.

It didn't exactly hurt. Slick as she was from her earlier encounters, Emma's vagina offered little resistance. Once the head was in, the stranger was able to give her shallow strokes, watching entranced as more and more of his cock found a home in her wetness. On the other hand, he was stretching her. Several times he moved faster than she would have liked. Emma winced but tried to remain cooperative.

"Mmm, she's feeling it," said the blonde. She rested one hand on, and periodically caressed Emma's breasts. She had addressed her husband, but turned back to Emma. "Show us you're a Broyce girl," she cooed, "take all that fat cock."

"Oh... ow!" The outburst came as the stranger pushed forward yet again. Emma was now more than half impaled.

"Gently, my love," scolded the blonde. "You don't want to break her."

Defiance rose up in Emma. She wasn't some delicate flower. "I can take it," she insisted.

The blonde raised her eyebrows in surprise. She turned to her husband. "Give her what she wants, then."

Emma had little time to worry if she had been too brash. Lifting her just off the bed, the man spread her legs and delivered a cruel thrust. His cock tore into her, accompanied by a flash of pain.

"Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck," Emma gasped. Instinctively, she arched her body up. The wave of pain shot through her, subsiding only reluctantly. Emma's fingers clutched at the sheets as her body tried to twist away. "Owww!"

"Unh," the man groaned. "Fuck." He tugged himself nearly free before piercing her again.

"Oooh, you took it," said the blonde. At some point she must have taken her bra off. Her body lay warm and close alongside Emma's. Her lips were pressed against Emma's ear. "You deserve a toy."

The other girl, almost forgotten, laid a hand on Emma's hip before sliding it forward. With almost no warning, Emma felt the buzz of a vibrator against her skin. It found her clit.

Pain, warmth, and pleasure fought for Emma's attention. The older man's relentless cock surged forward again, stretching her flesh and testing her limits. Even as the initial wave of pain subsided, new discomfort took its place. Her body accepted each thrust a sliver more easily, but there was no doubt the man was breaking her in. On the other hand, the vibrator did its work. A sweet warmth began to embrace her, gently as if unsure she would accept it. Gradually, tingles of pleasure sparked.

"Yeah," Emma groaned huskily. She slid her eyes shut. A tongue found her ear, kissing and probing. It was the blonde. Unsure why she did so, Emma wrapped her arm around the woman's shoulder, urging her forward. The blonde's small, hot tongue darted once more into Emma's ear before moving down to kiss her neck. Warmth and pleasure were everywhere.

"Fuck, that's hot," the man said. His thick cock pumped into her now without hesitation. His grip on her thighs was strong, and his gaze intense. The strokes still stretched her, but ecstasy was quickly overtaking pain. Emma recognized the signs of an approaching orgasm.

"Oh," she panted. "Oh, god!" The blonde had found her nipple and now licked and teased it as the other girl held the vibrator mercilessly against her clit. "It's... omigod."

"He's all in you, shit!" gasped the other girl. The vibrator was a relentless, encouraging presence against her clit. The stranger tore into her pussy with abandon, his thighs now slapping against hers.

Emma was lost. The blonde's warm body pressed against her, while her tongue circled a nipple. A hand cupped her other breast, its owner unknown. Thick cock ravaged her slit, spreading and opening her flesh like never before. Pain and pleasure swirled together indistinguishable and inseparable. They were the same. She needed both.

"Your sweet body," the stranger groaned. He was driving hard now, reckless and eager.

'I... I... oh, fuck!" Emma cried out. Pussy clenching, she came.

Again her body arched up. The orgasm crested, sending her into trembling ecstasy. Her clit was at the center, but her entire body swam with heat. Eyes closed she twisted and bucked. "Oooooh," she gasped.

"Ooooh, babyyyyyyy," the stranger cried out. His body stiffened. He drove home a final thrust, skewering Emma. "Nnnnna."

Emma thrashed and ground against the older man's fat cock, coaxing every ounce of pleasure out of the invading organ. She had given him her insides, and he filled them, owning every inch of her slick pussy. He stretched her to fit.

"Nnna, ahhhhhhh," he gasped. The stranger came, unloading a gusher of hot cum into her already dripping slit. They were cumming together, he filling her gash while she shuddered against him, enveloping him with her warmth. Their bodies rose and fell together.

"Ohhhhh!" The spasm reluctantly subsided, releasing its ownership of Emma's tight body. Her lover drove into her once more, then again, as the final spurts of seed spurt pulsed into her. Emma sank at last against the bed, panting. Her head swam.

With a last groan, the stranger pulled his cock from her gash. A string of cum dripped against her leg. "Oh, fuck that was sweet."

"I'm glad you enjoyed her, my love." The blonde gave Emma a soft kiss, her tongue briefly exploring Emma's lips.

"I don't mind letting him play once a year." Her hand stroked Emma's belly. "He'll fuck me like a bastard tonight."

The blonde pulled away. The other girl also disappeared, taking the vibrator with her. Even as the realization of being alone on the bed sank in, Emma spotted another man undressing, just at the edge of the light. He strode forward, his cock slashing the air aggressively.

"Doggy," he said, no sign of gentleness in his voice.

Still dazed from her previous session, Emma had no time to gather his meaning, much less comply. Before she could raise herself, the newest man smacked her ass and guided Emma to her hands and knees. He pressed his cock against her slit, sliding the shaft back and forth.

"I fuck fast," he said flatly. "See if you can keep up." In a flash he was in her.

The first thrust was careless, impaling Emma's dripping gash in a single motion. She gasped, alarmed by how quickly he had taken her. Not as thick as her previous partner, he was nonetheless hung. He pulled out and repeated.

The man was achingly hard. As the shaft gouged her, the head pressed down against and passed Emma's g-spot. A tingle of pleasure swept through her, then another as he pumped her yet again. His pace picked up.