The World Championships. A Rape Odyssey

[HistBuff]

CHAPTER 17 --- On A Beach Of White Sand

Fairy Sands lighthouse came into view around two o'clock, and the ship exploded in cheers and catcalls. Those beaches of dunes and white sands promised much fun under this warm autumn sun.

Blanche saw it as a white hell in broad daylight. Why did the weather always favored the rapists? She felt like a battered toy in some cheap novel written by some degenerate author.

The ship came to a halt less than 100 yards away and lowered the anchor. Both skiffs were set afloat and they carried most of the crew along with Blanche; all headed to those beautiful white sands.

Daniel was there too, next to the Skipper and keeping his peace as agreed, feeling guilty and lucky with his cock stiff at the prospect of partaking. His hand was still throbbing with pain. His heart filled with fear of his rapists. But most of this was overpowered by Daniel's crazy lust for Blanche. He had alas not forgotten that one time with Blanche after he shot the fishermen; the memory of her pussy acted like a tight opium that ensnared his mind like a retiarius making fun of him in the arena of fate. And her next rape would precisely play out on sand.

It had been agreed that the mechanics and the long-faced sailor would remain on the ship "to look after the Soviet lady and make sure she gets anything she wants". The sodomite stayed as well, seizing his opportunity to pretend he liked girls too and thus increase his dubious status among the crew. He was going to try out Nadia's ass since the cook, his usual partner, was not available as he was going ashore too; the cook wasn't going to let pass this one opportunity to get the whiff and taste of the other white wench. The tales about last night's events were already legend on the ship.

Daniel had smiled with a dark brand of joy when the Skipper offered him to come to the island as well, while "those men would take care of his wife". The prospect of raping Blanche again almost made him forget his bone-hurt hand.

The Skipper had seen the way Daniel kept looking at Blanche and he preferred to keep an eye on him, with the understanding that the wench from Whitby was more powerful than the thickest steel chain. He also feared Daniel's size and strength and didn't want to leave him alone with only five men whose attention would be centred around that Soviet spy. He'd rather have Daniel on the island with fifteen men. He needed Daniel as the husband of that Soviet spy; he planned on coming to London as the hero who bagged a Soviet spy and made her a British subject. Then his promotion would be in the bag!

He gave his usual fake smile to Blanche as the skiffs approached the white-sand island.

***

The lighthouse guard had seen the Flower of Whitby from a long distance. He was already on the beach and waiting as the skiffs reached the shore. His old mug came alive with a nightmarish smile as he saw Blanche, barefoot with her dungarees rolled up to her knees, her torso a torch of white tee-shirt arousal against her sunlit hair of raven that promised a triangle of dark pleasure below.

The disfigured old man felt a long-forgotten life under his own dungarees. He observed the lass, the deep suffering in her eyes, the way she was looked at by all men around her as they escorted her past where the wet sand kept being licked by the foaming rollers. The air was salty. The sun was bright. And this girl had clearly been raped on that ship. Repeatedly. The old lighthouse guard wasn't born yesterday.

"Blanche!" the Skipper said. "This is Mr. Crabb, an old Navy friend of mine who lost his leg in the Battle of Jutland back in 1916 when we were both young and dashing Sub-Lieutenants on the same cruiser! He's a war hero and I expect you to respect him as such! Henry, this is Blanche Godalming, the daughter of Sir Knight Godalming, the mayor of Whitby!"

"Hello, Sigismund! Still a Lieutenant, I see!"

"You old bugger!" the Skipper replied as he walked to his old friend and both men hugged each other while all fourteen sailors and Sub-Lieutenant Humphrey stood still, with the seagulls cackling in their usual flight around and off them. Daniel couldn't take his eyes off Blanche. The coloured cook stood right near her; Daniel felt relieved to see that the Negro's attention was all on her.

"Blanche! Say hello to Mr. Crabb! Kneel at his feet and kiss his cock!"

"No! Nooo, I won't! Nnoooo!"

"Make her do it!" the Skipper ordered. And the cook seized and groped Blanche, smiling with all his white teeth as the Sub-Lieutenant helped him in carrying her near Mr. Crabb.

"She doesn't have to do this if she doesn't want to! We have plenty of time to get acquainted, don't we young lady?" Mr. Crabb said, his nightmarish face offering her the repulsive simulacrum of a smile with a third of his lips missing.

Blanche shuddered and looked down and away from the lighthouse guard. He was so hideous! He belonged to a horror show! One would think of him as some wooden-leg pirate that got hung around 1750 and arose from the dead.

Henry Crabb knew all too well he had this effect on each and every woman, unless he wore a mask. A German shell hit his cruiser and the right half his face got burned and mauled by incandescent fragments. Other fragments tore his right leg and he had to be amputated from the knee down. He was then discharged from the Navy, honourably, after a year of care in a military hospital where nurses would tantalize his hunger for sex with the off-limits shapes of their bosom neatly encased inside their uniforms. This and the horrified looks from everyone he got after he got his leave from hospital.

One nurse had dated him after he was released, and things went well for a while since this was a nurse used to see and treat burnt patients. But her folks absolutely disapproved any project of marriage and the nurse eventually gave in to family and social pressure, in spite of her genuine feelings for then-young Henry Crabb.

Soon after this blow, and it was a hard one, Henry Crabb had got the job of lighthouse guardian on Fairy Sands, where he had been living by himself for the last 28 years barring the once-a-fortnight supply boat. He had never ever set foot anywhere else for all these years. He loved the sea, and on some nights, he could swear some damsel slipped into bed with him and they made love. He called the phantom Calypso -- from the Odyssey. That boat was kind enough to supply him with books as well. Books to feed his soul.

No man understood better Ulysses's plight on Calypso's island; those tears he shed were perhaps tears of sorrow for having to leave Calypso because his honour duty as king required it -- which man would willingly leave the bed of a goddess to go back to a mortal wife?

All those years, Henry Crabb had masturbated to pictures from pin-up magazines brought along with those supplies, or from novels. One of said novels was Bram Stoker's "Dracula", for he had quite a fantasy going for Mina and Lucy, and he wrote too. Scenes where Van Helsing and the other men gang-rape the un-dead Lucy on top of her coffin before finally regaining the nerve to slay her using the wooden stake. Scenes where Dracula wins and gives Mina as a reward to his lawful Tziganies and she gets gang-raped by those slanted-eyed gypsies while Dracula enjoys watching the moral demise of his "wife" as she turns a true un-dead.

Knowing all this, one would readily understand how burning Mr. Crabb's lust must have been for the young wench he had before his eyes. One would also commend him for his patience in telling her they had all the time to get acquainted.

"Henry," the Skipper said, "I'm truly sorry I don't come to visit you more often. So here's the deal. We're going to give you first inside this damsel. You can even take her inside your lighthouse if you don't like to be observed while, uh, while giving the lady the honour of your island. It's up to you since you're our host."

"Always a gentleman with the fake smile, aren't you, Sigismund! And what's with this ridiculous moustache! You looked way better without it! But yes, I'll be delighted to take this wench here on this sand. I've always wanted to have a girl on this beach, and I don't mind to..."

"NOO! PLEASE! NOOO! I'D RATHER BE TAKEN BY THIS NEGRO HERE!" Blanche suddenly cried, her tears bathing her face as she failed to comprehend the vastness of the horror she was suddenly swimming in.

"Don't be insulting!" the Skipper barked as he slapped Blanche.

"AAAAAAAAIIE!!!"

"He's a war hero! Have respect, young lady!" he added, his hand raised for another slap while --- mirabile dictu -- the lass flung herself into the cook's arms and pressed herself against him, as if the Negro would protect her! She soon recoiled upon realizing in whose arms she was! All hands around her laughed their heads out.

"This is all right, Sigismund. Just bring this lovely wench here and... (the disfigured old man licked the remnants of his lips as he spoke) And strip her in front of me and... and take your time! I haven't seen a lass in the flesh in 28 long years!"

***

"N-nAAOOO NOOO NOOOOOOOOO!"

"Ah ahh! I love the sound of that voice! Please boys, slowly raise the hem of her shirt!"

Obeying the guard's command, the Sub-Lieutenant rose Blanche's white tee-shirt while the cook held both her wrists together behind her back as he hellishly promised her a deep fuck from his tropical cock.

Taking his time, the young Subby rose the hem of the screaming girl's shirt, revealing her navel and her flat and slim belly, with much inviting girliness under her denim dungarees.

"NOOO NOOOOO PLEASE!!! STOP! I'LL SHAG ALL OF YAA! ALL OF YAAA! JUST NOT THIS... THIS MONSTER!"

"Ha! Ha! I've heard it all, young siren! Now... Now let's see how her skin tastes!" the avid guard bellowed out of his salivating mouth as he knelt down and put his arms around Blanche's hips! She shrieked as if she got touched by boiling lava!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH NAAAOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!"

"Nobody's going to hear you, my lovely little damsel! Oohh you taste sweet! Mmmhhhh..."

And the old guard spoke no more. He covered Blanche's navel area with wet kisses while taking hold of her buttocks and using his hands to study their youthful firmness, comparing her in his mind to Emily, the damsel he was engaged to when he became a cripple during the Battle of Jutland. Comparing her to Adele, the nurse he had dated and who became the one and only girl he actually had had sex with.

His hands no longer his, the old disfigured man basked in Blanche's frantic screaming as her voice turned hoarse and he undid her dungarees and lowered them!

He gasped as he found himself face to muff with her sex! A black plate of hair inches from him as he learned she had no underwear!

Her screams reached surreal proportions as the scene unfolded, unthinkable and just as surreal as if he were a vampire getting a whiff of a long-forgotten sensuality as he began to kiss Blanche's cunt. The kind of cunts nearly all men fantasize about.

Blanche writhed and wriggled like a trout in a frying pan as her screams sailed far and away, reaching the ship and keeping company with Nadia's own screaming as the sodomite was already gauging the tightness of her Soviet ass.

The old guard had his face glued to her sex! His tongue was inside Blanche and she shivered all over while the Sub-Lieutenant couldn't keep himself from cupping her tits through her tee-shirt while the cook kissed the side of her face, his own mug always lighted up by his smile.

The lighthouse guard suddenly stood, his six feet of Gothic height towering above Blanche, and all stood still for one fleeting moment until the old guard grabbed and tore her shirt!

"AAAAARRRRHHH!" he uttered as he brutally uncovered her nymph's pair of tits!

"I haven't seen two of those for a great many ages! Oh, little damsel..."

Blanche shivered and jerked in the arms and grip of the cook and the Sub-Lieutenant as the guard plunged on her schoolgirl's knobs and kissed the brownness of her nipples all his content while using his firm hands to learn at once all the secrets of her breasts, from their silky-soft underside to their proud high-riding grace as he gleefully sucked them and ran his tongue around those fabulous nipples and areolas! As brown and pale as the forbidden pastries of heaven.

"All right boys! Bend her over and hold her for me!"

"NNAAAAAHAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAA ANNHAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!"

"Respect, young lady! Respect!!!" the Skipper barked, almost failing to keep from laughing.

"NNAAAAAHAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAA ANNHAAA-AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!"

"Respect! And why such a fuss? You're already used to this!" the Skipper added as his youthful second-in-command nodded in approval.

"Bend her over and hold the wench for me! I can't wait any longer!"

Feeling the eruption of lust inside him, the lighthouse guard lowered his filthy dungarees and produced a proud erection that most women would approve of. He took the time to affectionately study the contours of her sensual buttocks with his tired old hands, taking unfathomable delight in the deed while the cook and the Subby held her in that dreaded bent-over position, right where she stood on her graceful legs and feet that gave new fodder to the old man's fantasies. This in spite of her ankles being mundanely tied up in her bunched-down dungarees.

And then, he held his stiff cock and planted it inside her entrance as she shrieked with all the horror she had and he felt her spasms as he rammed himself deep inside her, now grabbing her waist and giving her one slow, deliberate stroke, and then a second one as he planted himself wide into the sand; wide on his left leg, wide on his wooden lower leg on the other side. And the rape from Hell began.

Blanche's screams were deafening! The old man loved this. He enjoyed every little detail of her -- from the way the sunlight played in her dark hair to the waves of collision seen on the pristine buns of her bottom each time he drove her back and flattened those girly curves against him. Blanche could of course drop herself and cause him to come out of her, but she felt so terrified of him that she just let him do as he pleased.

"Oh yeah! Oh yeah! The butt of a damsel! Nothing prettier than that! And look at those legs! Oh yeah! Oh yeah! I'll give you all, little damsel! All my sperm!"

And as he spoke in those terms, the stiff-erect guard gave Blanche the honour of the island, presently bucking her faster and ever more poignantly as each passing second etched itself in his turmoiled mind. And hers. Now and again, he reasserted his wide footing as his wooden leg tended to slide on that soft white sand. The seagulls kept their cackling rounds in their eternal quest for food and copulation.

The cook smiled with all his white teeth as he held her. The Skipper smoke his pipe and nodded in rhythm with his old friend's strokes, hearing the music of Blanche's wailing screams. The Sub-Lieutenant felt the pain of his own hard-on as he helped the cook in holding the screaming girl.

The old keeper reached his no-return place and he looked positively frightening, his hellish face distorted with pleasure bordering pain as he fed her a couple of last butt-flattening strokes while yelling, "AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH GOD SAVE THE KING!!! aaa-YYAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHRRR!!!"

Then he was like, "Ugh ugh uugh ugh uuughh" as he dumped an epic load of swimmers inside the wailing wench, whose legs shivered in their spasmodic grace as the unthinkable reached its even more unthinkable conclusion.

Blanche fell on the softer than soft sand, with the grace of a fallen lady whose nymph-like legs obliterated the last hypothetical vestiges of morality in those vile men around her.

The lighthouse keeper remained standing and panting, unable to process the reality of what just happened. A damsel on his island. And he raped her! How could he not? His legs were so wobbly that he even felt the weird sense of bliss right down his wooden leg.

Blanche felt the far-reaching death of a wave lick her side, then bathe her legs where she lay in utter exhaustion. She no longer registered the hawkish gazes on her. A maelstrom of acid-like emotions hammered her head like a collective thumper.

So this was all she was good for! Getting fucked! Society also deemed her so. Her father had her married to the son of some prominent politician so he could have a shot at becoming something greater than the mayor of Whitby; and thus she got legally fucked by this nice, but timid young man, whose body was now consumed history. She was nothing but a pussy to fuck and give semen to.

The only man she couldn't really blame in all this was that old lighthouse guard. Once a handsome young man who merely did his duty like a well-trained dog; he had come back from the war disfigured. Society rewarded him with horrified contempt. No wonder he chose the secluded life on this lighthouse island in the middle of the Channel!

No wonder he raped her with such glee. She felt every fibre of his glee through his hands, through his throbbing erection; quite a vigorous one! But she felt so sore down there! Oh, so sore! She might not even get out of this island alive... But the old guard... She could understand why he couldn't help himself. He was actually the better, or least vile man in the contemptible pack of scoundrels that surrounded her.

Someone was presently fingering her pussy. Some ointment was being applied on her...

"It's a soothing ointment. It's a soothing ointment," the Sub-Lieutenant said as he applied more.

"Don't say we don't take good care of you, young lady!" said the Skipper as he came closer while the rest of the sordid bunch burst in laughter.

"It's a soothing ointment," the handsome Subby repeated.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

CHAPTER 18 --- Music On The Beach

The beach of Fairy Sands was echoing with the pitiful whimpers from Blanche, who now was on all fours, the fair wonders of her body under the sunlight, her elbows and knees deep into that soft white sand, that saltwater-licked sand... and her buttocks now a protruding attraction where one by one, the dirty dozen surrounding her kept giving the wench their deep, heavy strokes, fulfilling their wildest erotic dreams as they relieved themselves inside her hopelessly hurt pussy. At last! Again!

Those sailors had all waited their turns impatiently while the disfigured keeper was experiencing a never-hoped-for pleasure when having the fuck of his life inside Blanche, whose nakedness had caused him to explode all too soon, which turned out almost painfully enjoyable since his cock had been harder than it had ever been in twenty-eight years. Mr. Crabb was swept off his foot and wooden leg upon letting himself bathe in his heated relief.

Now Mr. Crabb was gone back in his lighthouse while the Skipper, the handsome Sub-Lieutenant, and then the Bosun, the Coxswain and the Boatswain all took their short-lived turns in what looked like a contest about who could give the girl the loudest whimpers while lasting the longest inside her, but this was hard to do! The wench was simply too gorgeous, and so... one by one, the men would scream their dying bliss inside her while she kept whimpering and weeping like a little girl getting spanked for doing something bad.

During the slug-fest, Blanche heard the comments. She had the most wonderful butt they had ever seen. The legs and feet of a mermaid turned human, and even prettier than the blonde one at Copenhagen. Hair that wrote men's life in black ink and filled their dreams with light! Such comments and the ever-renewed rapes only reinforced her belief --- Getting fucked was all she was good for.

Blanche only spoke English and felt very inadequate when thinking about Nadia, who was such a polished young woman, refined and highly educated. Nadia was fluent in several languages, unlike her. Blanche was the daughter of a self-important, stupidly patriotic man who would forbid her to read in any language other than British English -- and even Bram Stoker looked suspect to him for being Irish, but William Simpson Potter and his "Romance of Lust" were fine since the novel was Victorian English. Blanche had begun to learn French only a week before when she got married and moved in with her now-dead husband. And she burst out in sobs as Robert sprung in her mind again, and she remembered her wedding night--- Robert's animalistic grunts when he legally relieved himself inside her, at last! ... even though she had a headache from too much champagne.

"Aahh Blanche my dear! You're such a glorious shag and I'm the luckiest boy alive!" Robert had told her on their wedding bed, without the slightest notion of her own pleasure even crossing his boyish mind as he immediately fell asleep and she had to hurry to the loo to throw up, since she definitely had had too much wedding cake to eat. The wonderful life of a British wife! A boy indeed. And now she was over-used by men. Feeling all too old while those men kept telling her how young she looked.

"Aahh aah aaahhhh aahhhhhhh yeah yeah yeah yeah yeah here it is! HHNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNGGHHH! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah! Even better than last night!" the Boatswain ejaculated as he came inside Blanche. With raging ropes of semen that left him utterly breathless, even though he was an active man, slim, yet wiry-strong and accustomed to the heaviest cable-hauling exertions.

The satisfied, panting Boatswain graced her all-white buttocks with wolfish tongue strokes, going as far as trying to pinch her skin between his teeth; not so easy to do on such a firm butt.

"Out of my way, Jackass!" bellowed Able Seaman Henry Godfrey, the Boatswain's best friend and the only one allowed to called the petty officer a jackass without consequences, as both friends affectionately called each other such.

Soon, the Able Seaman had moved Blanche on her back on the suddenly wet sand as a long-reaching wave got her wet and salty; and he took stock of her glorious legs and feet, which he covered with kisses, tasting the saltwater on her shimmering-wet body, and he kept at it even though the other sailors yelled at him, that he quickly got over with it so they too could have their fun inside her.

"Hush up, boys!" the Boatswain chimed in. "We've got all time in the world! Let Henry study our wench a little. Last night, all he got from her was a one-minute shag. She belongs to us for this whole day and night, 'till tomorrow!"

"P--ppleeeze... Stop using my, my pussy... I'm exh-- I'm hurt! Hurt ohh it hurts!" Blanche complained.

"She needs more soothing ointment!" declared the Sub-Lieutenant, his voice sounding like a schoolboy about to give an apple to his favorite teacher.

"No, she needs my tongue!" the Able Seaman said, so enthralled by Blanche's black-haired cunt that he wasn't even aware he had just replied "No" to a commissioned officer! But the slightly offended officer took it in stride as he watched how Able Seaman Godfrey proceeded to bravely ignore the foul taste from the other men's sludge as he gave Blanche the honour of his able tongue.

And do what she will, Blanche had to endure the mounting heat within her, especially as one mountain of a sailor was presently sucking her tits with glee... and skill. For he was one bull of a seaman who had a girl in every port. He was a seasoned lover who had quickly noticed that Blanche was a tit responder.


So he gave Blanche the best of him and guided his tit-slobbering efforts according to how high she began to sing, and how deep her moaning were growing. He found that slightly biting her nipples while stroking the undersides of her titties was what she liked best --- something her late husband had never thought of; something she did herself when having a solo session. This and the Able Seaman eating her pussy forced Blanche's small body closer and closer to the orgasmic chamber of torture. She was shamed forever! Moaning amid this dirty dozen of evil scoundrels!

Blanche's unwilling moans were now reaching the anchored mine sweeper!

On the deck of that Royal Navy ship, Nadia was also being forced "to sing high with a Russian accent" as the chief mechanic was raping her so deep, hard and long on top of her that the Soviet girl was forced by her own body to capitulate and wrap her legs around the man while she experienced one of her strongest climaxes ever, and it burned her soul like a tsunami of cobra venom as she decided that maybe it would just be better that she took her own life at the first opportunity.

"Aaaah aaaaaaaah nnoooo please! Please! Stop this! Aaaaaaaaaaaaaa nnaaoooo noo! No you c-can't! N--nnaaaaaaa aaaaaaaAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH..."

Such was now Blanche's English from Withby as the colossus sailor kept sucking her breasts while the Able Seaman able-tongued her vagina with all his heart.

The lighthouse keeper came back just in time to witness Blanche's surrender as the wench burst in a long-winded series of high-pitched moans that hit the men so strong that they fell silent and watched how the Able Seaman propped her legs up and proceeded to ravish her, taking a short-lived, but very intense pleasure as her legs and feet were pinned against her and pointing high up above while the Able Seaman had the unfathomable privilege to erupt inside her, very blissfully, while looking directly in her lovely face; a face wet with tears and distorted with her shame spiced up with flecks of unwanted, yet unhoped-for pleasure.

The keeper had come back with an antiquated gramophone, the motor of which he wound up using the hand crank, while the huge and strong sailor was now on his knees and keeping Blanche's ass off the sand as he gleefully used her with her feet dangling about as her legs kept brushing on the man's thick arms. The brutish sailor just held her by the waist with prodigious strength as her jiggling tits rode high on her chest with her head kept bobbing on the sand, below the level of her hips where the heartfelt strokes kept punishing her hard and square!

The pussy-hurt girl suddenly had a seizure and screamed with rage plus something else as she was once more hit by a powerful orgasm, just as the dumb-looking and not-so-handsome strong man hit his long-awaited jackpot and basically drowned her with his sperm.

"Now, this is what I call a solid shag!" the big sailor said as he slowly got back to his feet, leaving the gorgeous wench naked on the sand, where she rolled herself in a foetal position and began sucking her thumb without even realising it, for she was far gone.

The keeper put a record on his gramophone and Rina Ketty began to sing "J'attendrai" with her divinely French-Italian voice. Accompanied by plaintive violins and a melancholic horn, she sang the waiting woman's war-time complaint, with her uniquely lingering style, through the large brass horn...



"Look! The girl wants to suck!" the Skipper bellowed. Volunteers were called for and quickly found. And as Rina Ketty's war-time song floated in the warm autumn air under blue heavens, Blanche was gently compelled to sit on her heels and offer the treasures of her body for all to see and get enthralled by as she was made to give her mouth to several sailors.

The Skipper and the boatswain knew the girl had been broken and no threats were necessary. One by one, the next several sailors filled her nice-girl mouth with the Navy's corned beef and gave her its most pleasing taste as she sucked, sucked and sucked some more, her gullet soon filled with the salty taste from a sailor. Then the next man ended up splattering her tits with his goo, while the keeper played "J'attendrai" again as per the Skipper's request.

Even though she was no longer resisting, most of the men grabbed her head and face-raped her "like the dirty little tramp she is".

The young Sub-Lieutenant experienced that quick return of his gun, youth's privilege. Uncaring of his uniform, he lied down on the sand, where the squad of masturbating sailors made Blanche straddle him while facing away, and as the orgy of forced fellatio was resumed, the shy young officer had his hands holding her round-shaped buttocks, the sunlit whiteness of which looked even brighter against his dark jacket. His one golden stripe at the bottom of his sleeves looked royally scandalous as he gleefully sank his fingers into her skin and felt every little fibre of her as he began to make her rise and crash down on him, loving the poetry in motion in her curves, remembering her as she was when dressed, and having a hard time believing he wasn't dreaming while the bourgeois daughter presently sucked the cock of an Ordinary Seaman from the gutter of London, holding the base of his corned beef like she was ordered to.

"Madame is having corned beef for dinner tonight! Is Madame satisfied?" jested the Skipper while the keeper looked at the scene with contempt in his eyes. While Daniel kept massaging his bandaged hand and also kept away from the cook.

The Sub-Lieutenant enjoyed more and more the motions of her lithe waist along with the comparative broadness of her hips and butt; each new bouncing stroke was a stronger paradise as he buckarooed her and sank into his favourite fantasy--where a bunch of Indians forced a white girl to do this very thing after stripping her naked; to bounce on their laps with her pretty face looking away, like a good cowgirl with her dead parents' burning house in the background. Sub-Lieutenant Humphrey loved American westerns and dreamed of visiting Texas so he could try out sex under the sky with a local dame. He was an officer all right, but a gentleman?

He nonetheless blew up inside her like an absolute torpedo when her bottom crashed down on him one time too many, and, gaining experience, the boyish young man caressed Blanche's waist and caused her to burst with a brief burst of forced laughter as he happened on a ticklish area.

"Aaaaaahh! She's a capital shag!" the boyish officer exclaimed as he enjoyed the last drop of his relief.

"Yes, shagging is all I'm good for!" Blanche kept telling herself as her mouth remained filled with those varied cocks --- smaller or bigger, cut or uncut with their heads reddish, purple or plain skin... She sucked them all the same and ended up with her face properly coated, and her raven hair properly perfumed. It was the true Victory Day for this crew. The day where they reaped their actual reward for defending their homeland. Blanche vaguely thought she was sacrificing herself for her own and dear England. Perhaps even her father would approve of this; he was so patriotic and she suspected him of secretly lusting after her.

Daniel watched all of this with his cock tensed to a near-breaking point! The Skipper had been good on his word and allowed him to walk around freely. He was just waiting his turn and the Skipper knew it. Blanche was his prisoner's chain, and an unbreakable one at that. His injured hand also weakened the man. Greatly. But Daniel's mind was all bent on Blanche and the opportunity of spewing a huge load inside her.

However, Daniel had to undergo the extreme humiliation of waiting his turn while the Negro used Blanche. This and the even worse humiliation of feeling dread for the man, as he remembered all too well those painful strokes he had received deep in the ass from this very same Negro.

Last but not least, the cook took his powerful turn inside Blanche. For the Negro, taking her pussy was all-important. As a Senegalese man, he felt that the true possession of a woman could only happen vaginally, and since this was only his second time with a white woman, he did take Blanche the biblical way, with him on top of her, with her aching head bobbing on the soft white sand; this while the sun was already getting closer to the horizon, the sky blue deepening and slowly but surely turning into a haze of evening tawny far to the west; toward the vast ocean, with the seagulls keeping up their ever-circling, ever-cackling waltz while the sobbing girl whimpered in rhythm under the Negro's furious thrusts.

"Now girl! Now I got you!" the panting man stammered as he kept ravishing her, his mud-cake mug to her porcelain face. "A good fuck! That's all a white girl's good for! Do ya feel it inside you, tramp? How do ya like it, being under a Negro? White cow getting her black spots! Yes! Yes! All the rules are turned upside down... and it's aaahhh! So good! I gotta slow down now, so I can keep cooking inside you longer... Aahhh! Aaaaaahh ooohh Good Lord!"

Able Seaman Henry Godfrey had an idea. With some ropes, he proceeded to tie up Blanche's ankles together on top of the Negro's ass, thus forcing her legs to remain wrapped up around the large-ass man, whose heated moans seemed to be caressing every last inch of her skin and gluing itself on her like hot molasses.

"Nnoooo! Noooooooo! Please, release my feet! This is too much! Nn-aaahhaaaa AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH NOT A NEGRO! ... RRRHAAAHAAAAHAAAAAAAAA AAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA! My father's gonna kill ya! Aaaah--aaaaaaaa AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!!"

"Abdoul! Kiss the wench! Shut her up!" ordered the Skipper.

The Muslim Senegalese carried out the order and forced a deep French-kiss onto the weeping girl, gripping her head between his hands as he rested his weight on his elbows, and while he ravished her pretty girl with his jungle kiss, he kept giving her all the power of Africa through his deeply felt strokes. The silenced girl was crushed in a world of fiery pain and suffering. Daniel felt so aroused that he forgot his painful hand!

Daniel ran at her feet and frantically masturbated, until he soon let go of a gigantic load of spurting jism; the French-Canadian half-closed his eyes out of sheer pleasure as his long ropes of maple syrup filled him with a heat so strong he would have sworn he was levitating! Those feet! So little and dainty! Those tiny toes and the way her soles made little wrinkles as she tensed under the deep African rape; and the very fact she was being had by a coloured man... This was too much!

And as he erupted and coated Blanche's feet with the gloss of shame, Daniel thought of Zabel! He sure as hell was going to pound her hard and good every single day during the first year of their married life! Just wait and see! Babies were on their way.

He couldn't wait to be reunited with the love of his life. He was soon going back to London, and then he would fade out of sight and just turn the page and forget all those unfortunate events; and marry Zabel! And above all, fuck Zabel, the lovely Armenian girl, whose eyes were as deep as the night and her long hair as dark as mankind's secret dreams. And she'd be his.

Then Abdoul exploded and islamized Blanche. It just so happened that it was time for the five o'clock tea. The kettle was boiling on the campfire and letting out steam.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

CHAPTER 19 --- The Little Mermaid (Fucked)


After supper, everybody fell asleep, including Daniel, who just raped Blanche again near the campfire.

When Daniel raped her, Blanche spat in his face and spat those English words in his pleasure-distorted face... "My father is going to have you killed for what you've done, I swear it by the King!"

"Oh yes! Yes, aahhrrr! English girls are the finest stock, urrhh! YES! AAAAHHHRRR NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN GGGHH..."

As he ejaculated and lost track of where and when he is, Daniel feels Blanche's tired legs around him and realizes--just as she realizes--that she's crossed ankles on top of him and her feet are right there giving and absolute God-forbidden show by the campfire!

"Out of my way, Canadian jock!" the Skipper says.

As soon as Daniel's out of his way, the Skipper nestles himself on top of Blanche, whose legs soon mechanically wrap themselves around him, like a reflex gesture from the exhausted girl who keeps taking load after load and a lot more. The fun thing with her is she's absolutely not resisting.

Daniel, barely registering his aching hand with busted knuckles, comes nearer and stoops down where he begins to kiss Blanche's fuck-moving feet and to worship her ankles as he feels how ungodly soft her feet truly are, and small, ooh so small! Small and feminine is what Blanche is; and this is summed up in her lovely little feet. He barely hears the Skipper's savage grunting.

"Out of my way, you lubber!" the cook says as Daniel gets thrown back by a mighty shove.

As he half gets up and crouches on the sand, Daniel witnesses the unthinkable scene where Abdoul masturbates his thick dark stick near Blanche's graceful feet, while the Skipper is raping her deep and hard like there's no tomorrow.

Both men relieve themselves at the same time, the Skipper screaming his delight right in Blanche's face, with both her tiny fists clenched above her head on the pale sand, while Abdoul sings some baboon-sounding variant of a Senegalese tribe song as he coats her feet with a generous helping of his sludge, further shaming her. The load is plentiful enough for some overflow on her ankles and her lower legs.

"My father sure as the white cliffs of Dover will all have you killed. By the King I swear it!" says the British girl amid her bitter weeping, her tears saltier than the sea. Then, the young, handsome Sub-Lieutenant kindly asks the Skipper to let him step in, with the Boatswain and the Bosun waiting behind him.

As he looks on while the Sub-Lieutenant, the Boatswain, the Bosun and a couple more hands take their turns in making sure to truly feel how wonderful a fuck she is from behind, as he watches the unreal collisions between the Royal Navy and Blanche's whiter than white buttocks, as she gets some more rapes on all fours, on that night-golden sand by the campfire, Daniel gets lost in the savagery, with a chill down his spine... and fear for Abdoul his own rapist. He feels like the lion deprived of his heart.

He masturbates until he gets hard again, while one man follows another inside Blanche. He needs to reassert himself, to convince himself he's still a man. And this is why he frantically masturbates. Once the last of the sailors is done with Blanche, Daniel kneels on the sand behind her, and he sinks inside her pussy!

Hands on her butt, he rapes the British girl, who curses at him and upon looking back, her gaze meets his.

"I swear, my father is going to have you killed! By the King I swear it!"

Her words carry a Victorian glamour that feels incredibly odd given the crude predicament she's in. Daniel sinks back into the contemplative savagery of raping her with his hands on the soft curves of her butt... Ooh, God! Her butt! He had first seen it through her dungarees when she stepped on that fishing sailboat, shortly before she was gang-raped by the Dutch-speaking crew. And now he just fucked her! So wonderful a fuck!

Gone were his thoughts about weightlifting and the world championship. He fucked. His hands on her butt, and he fucked! This was life! To fuck!

"AAAH AA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHRRR YEEEEEH GODDH ddjjmmhhhhhhhll..."

He had accelerated and given all he had in the already-gone moment where he exploded inside her! Like the Hiroshima bomb of the year before. Already past.

***

And now as he lay on sleep's doorstep, on that soft sand, Blanche's words came back to haunt him. "My father will have you killed, I swear it by the King."

Something in her voice had sent a chill down Daniel's spine. Her father could be powerful enough to make good on that threat. But then he fell asleep as he relived the rape from behind, and the previous rape where he was on top of her... hit by God's delight... with the constant brush of her legs on his flanks... the ever-renewed jiggle of her breasts under him where he kept ramming her, his torso propped up on straight arms, his soul ever and ever more hypnotized by those ever-dancing nipples on ever-moving knolls that caught fiery cupper tones from the quiet fire... and he had yelled out his final joy upon bursting inside her with a biblical scale load that had felt like being sucked into a giant bonfire of unblinking felicity.

It took Daniel a while to realize what he had just done again, remaining right there and watching the girl's now-quiet breasts, lying there flattened in their firmness as the girl remained still under him, panting with her dark eyes burning with rage.

"My father's going to have you killed!" she said again.

Daniel rolled to his side, then sit down and finished a half-drunk beer bottle, before he laid himself down again on the divinely soft sand and soon fell asleep again at the silent light of the dying embers. He had raped so much that he even did it in his dreams, not sure where reality was anymore.

Everyone was asleep now. Everyone except the lighthouse keeper.

As soon as he had ascertained that the coast was clear, and upon hearing the sounds from the ever-lasting celebrations on the anchored ship, the keeper walked to Blanche's prostrated figure, taking pity on her while unable not to love how she looked in the nude.

"You're getting cold, my dear young lady! Let your keeper take you inside..." the old, disfigured man said as he swiftly took Blanche in his arms and lifted her effortlessly.

Blanche basically fell asleep in his arms as he carried her away, measuring his steps, but skilfully walking with his wooden leg through long years of use. She would remember nothing when she'd wake up next morning, under a warm blanket, to find herself in a small recess; and upon looking through a tiny window she'd realize she was high up above at the very top of the lighthouse!

So strong was his desire for her; so strong was his will to keep her for himself that he somehow found enough strength to carry her through all those winding stairs. And fuck her he did once she was on that old bunk. His scream of bliss had reached up for the stars as the disfigured crippled old man relieved himself inside God's dark-haired child.

***

When they woke up next morning, the Skipper and his crewmen realized that Blanche was missing.

"Where is she? Where's she!" asked the Skipper, his eyes wide with surprised disappointment, his morning glory hard under his trousers.

The lighthouse keeper answered him with his face cast down with what looked like grief.

"I'm very sorry to break the sad news, but the girl ran into the sea last night. I tried to stop her, but I only have one leg, so I couldn't catch up with her in time. As you know, the currents are strong and mighty here, and I had to back down lest I be lost myself as well. She's now one with the sea. God have mercy on her soul!"

As he said the last sentence, with tears in his eyes, the grimly disfigured keeper took his old cap off his bald head and fell down on his knees. His cap held in both hands, he began to pray, begging God to have mercy on his soul, to forgive him for the grave sin he had committed the previous day, while also praying for the lovely departed soul.

Upon hearing this, the Sub-Lieutenant screamed in terror, just as if a devil was about to come up from the earth beneath him to take him down into Hell! He was a very religious young man and he also fell down on his knees and began to pray and ask God for His forgiveness. Most of the crewmen soon followed, in a scene where Anglicans from Whitby soon looked more Catholic than Portuguese fishermen.

Daniel, the only actual Catholic man on that beach, felt fathomless guilt and also got down on his knees and began to pray. Now he was a knight on a quest for the Graal--Zabel! Zabel would give her the medal to pin on his heart and make him new again. Zabel, the black-haired Armenian maiden, was his own sorceress beyond the Western Ocean.

"Well, it's just as well that it finishes like this," Daniel thought, as he remembered Blanche's threats. He felt a weird sense of relief as the thought of her death sank in, all of it riddled with increasing guilt.

***

Not long after, while the Sub-Lieutenant was supervising the crew as they got ready to leave the island and return to the ship, the Skipper walked by himself near the keeper.

"You old fox! I don't believe your two-penny story!" the Skipper told him once he was out of his men's earshot. "I'm sure you're keeping her! She's hidden in this high lighthouse of yours! Isn't it so?"

The keeper didn't answer and just looked back at him with a hard expression on his face; he had a revolver on him and his right hand was hoovering near it. The Skipper paused upon noticing this, but he didn't alarm himself, although neither him or his crewmen were armed.

"There's no cause for you to get alarmed, my old friend. In fact, your little plan suits me just fine!" the Skipper said. The keeper felt surprised and suspicious, for he knew the Skipper to be one treacherous son of a gun.

"Yes", the Skipper said again. "This Soviet spy we have on our ship is my ticket to this long-awaited promotion. (He gestured to his rank insignia, two golden stripes with the royal ring down his jacket sleeve.) So I'll finally be a Lieutenant-commander and I'll enjoy a leave in the arms of my lovely niece who loves me. I've got everything in life I want! So I leave this wench to you, for old time's sake. No tricks!"

"No tricks! From you?! You old fake-smile bastard! That will be the day!"

"Look, war changes a man. I've got my promotion in the bag and I want to start my new life on a clean slate, so you and your mermaid, I wish you all the luck in the world, especially her!" He looked intently at the keeper's disfigured face as he spoke.

Thus, after a quick farewell, the Skipper stepped on a skiff and off he was with the rest of the sailors. The keeper remained alone on the sunny white beach. He was still very suspicious about his old friend's true intentions.

Once he got back at the top of the lighthouse, he gave himself the pleasure of Blanche. Since she was very, very sore down there, she begged her new master to please use her mouth, and in exchange she'd be a good girl to him and do anything he says. Blanche would soon learn she could easily control him through the treasures of her body. The keeper was Hell-ugly, but deep down, he was a good man.

As Blanche gave him fellatio, as he gently stroked her raven hair, the skipper understood that she understood the agreement between them. He was to provide for her and she was to attend to his needs. Blanche was an intelligent girl. She understood what she was good for. She also understood that she was stranded on this small island and if anything bad happened to the keeper, whoever was ferrying his supplies would come looking for him and find her alone; and she'd be gang-raped again.

She indeed understood what she was good for.

"Aaahh... Aaaaah ooohhh yeah! OooaaaaaaaAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHH! Oooh, my lovely little mermaid!" the keeper stammered as Blanche drank his semen down her throat so she could keep breathing; the old disfigured man was pressing her face against his groin.

"And now, little mermaid, just lay yourself down and rest. I'm going to kiss you everywhere from head to toe and worship the treasures of your young body! Oh, God! You have some juicy tits! And legs to die for! I feel so young again! Thank you for being my guiding light."

Thus spoke the lighthouse keeper as both he and his little mermaid began a new chapter in their life. A life together in the middle of the Channel sea.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

CHAPTER 20 --- London's Foggy Streets




"There'll be bluebirds over, the white cliffs of Dover..." sang Vera Lynn through the turntable speaker, while the Skipper grunted, his hands sunk into Nadia's baby-soft skin as he held her bruised and sore hips, gallantly raping her on his Skipper's table, her face sliding back-and-forth on a map of the Channel sea as she got used, yet again, by the old pig in his cabin.

Daniel was back in the hands of the cook and his fellow sodomite, and all the way to London, he was remembered he was indeed a lion with no more heart. Each stroke he received deep inside his ass sank him one step further down, and away from his old self.

Two days of hell. All through his ordeal, Daniel thought of Nadia and tried to remember she had it even rougher than him. She was now the only girl on the ship; available for the entire crew to fuck, be fucked and then fucked some more by those ever-horny sailors.

Whatever position he could think of, they had no doubt tried it out on the little Soviet tramp as they called her, that is, when they didn't call her "the harlot from Moscow who loves to get fish'n'chipped". The number of times she got gang-raped in the enlisted mess could only be conjectured. The Boatswain, who turned out to be a fan of Sherlock Holmes, began calling her "my little blue carbuncle" every new time he had her; although her dead-fish eyes were green; deep green.

Daniel remembered the moment he had come back on the mine sweeper. It was just the moment when that long-faced sailor was having her on all fours, his hands clenching the crease of her hips and his jaw loose and shivering as he exploded inside her and spewed a big load. Nadia looked all bruised, with sores and spots of violet-blue everywhere on her, a testament to the fact she was just as roughed up as Blanche had been on the island... and this was before those two extra days of hell...

No words could convey Daniel's sense of lost identity as he got raped over and over again. Losing his sense of time, feeling he was dead and to be raped forever by demons as the just punishment for having taken girls against their will.

"I repent! I repent! I swear I'll, I'll never rape again!" Daniel stammered, yet again, as the large Senegalese cook, Abdoul, shot his load inside him, yet again.

"Aah yeaahhh! Allah Akhbar! You're a sweet fuck, big lubber!" the cook would bellow upon pulling out from Daniel's bloody asshole.

***

Fortunately for Daniel and Nadia, everything mortal have an ending. The Navy ship of His Royal Majesty reached the port of London after sailing up the Thames. Daniel never got to see the Thames, but he did feel a fathomless sense of never-hoped-for relief as he learned that the ship was getting moored on that London wharf.

The stillness under him confirmed the fact they were no longer out at sea. Like one who had got used to be on a ship at sea, Daniel suddenly felt everything wobbly due to this sudden stillness. As he put himself together again and clasped his belt before putting on his long-forgotten necktie---the very same he had worn on his first day in Paris---Daniel realized he had got so used to having his trousers down that being fully clothed again felt foreign to him; a sense of foreignness only known to someone who got repeatedly raped.

Those hawsers around bollards were a most welcome sight to him; even more welcome a sight than the prettiest maiden. Although pretty maidens and girls there were on that wharf! The wives, little sisters and cusins and friends and nieces of some of the sailors who had made the trip from Whitby for the pleasure of being reunited with their husband, brother or father.

One such maiden was even looking directly at him, from a prettier than pretty face, her hair dark and a petite figure, just like Daniel liked, but Daniel was a ghost of what he used to be as he mechanically walked down the gangway and set foot on the jetty. He walked next to the Skipper, who walked as bold as brass on that bright day of early November. Nadia, dressed up in a dark blue gown, walked beside the Skipper, just as mechanically.

Neither Daniel nor Nadia had any paper or money on them; fleeing wouldn't get them very far in a city where they didn't know a soul, and what strength did they have left to run? Whereto?

Daniel was walking with his hands free, but he was under close escort, with that big cook right behind him and looking quite burly in his sailor's uniform, scaring him into obedience with his stern face. The skipper had noticed how scared of the Negro Daniel had grown, and thus he had no trouble in getting him lodged in some cheap hotel, while Nadia got taken into custody by the authorities as a "Soviet Spy".

Whatever was done to Nadia under detention was riddled with mystery, but it transpired that the authorities did a very thorough interrogation and search on and inside her person. Pictures of the glamorous Soviet lady ran in the newspaper; she would look at the camera with a soulless face between two smiling men from the Scotland Yard, both posing with that same air of smugness as hunters posing next to a tiger they just killed in India.

Along with the Skipper, Daniel was thrown into the press spotlight for being the one "who had captured the beautiful spy". Dubious columns ran about "those awful things the couple must have done together in France and Belgium before they were lawfully married by that brave Captain on the Royal Navy ship".

Daniel, now well dressed again, with his ass hopelessly sore, went to the authorities and did all he could to get his marriage annulled. However, he had no papers and no way to prove who he was other than by requesting that a 250-lb barbell be brought to the office of the Canadian ambassador so he could indeed prove he was who he was, by performing a lift very very few men were capable of. The request was denied. He requested to make a phone call to Montreal; he was missing Zabel so much! Request denied! He thought of fighting as anger brewed in him, but four officers from the Royal Canadian Mounted Police showed up and silently made it clear that such an endeavour wouldn't end all that well.

"But I was married on a ship, by a drunk Skipper! This is no marriage!" he said, again and again, protesting in the strongest terms as he thought of Zabel.

But the marriage stood! For some reason, it stood. Not only this, but the "happy couple" was photographed together and the story ran in newspapers all around the world! Especially in the Commonwealth countries such as Australia and Canada. Much to Daniel's mortification. Now Zabel was going to learn about this! The story would break her heart!

The cook showed up and Daniel let himself be led back to his cheap and seedy hotel room, like a sheep.

***

"What have I done? What have I done?" Daniel thought, dressed up in a smoking suit as he took a sip of the finest champagne he had ever tasted, during a reception held at Buckingham Palace, shortly before he and the Skipper were to be introduced to the King. Along with a deeply morose Nadia, who looked wonderfully elegant and soulless in a deep green gown that matched her eyes, much looked at where she stood between two large men who stood no less than six feet six.

The Skipper, now a freshly promoted Lieutenant-Commander, was as happy as a king in his brand-new uniform. He kept looking down at those two-and-a-half stripes freshly sewn on his dark sleeve, as if to ascertain he wasn't dreaming. His wide smile was genuine.

Daniel no longer cared about fucking Nadia. She was so used up! And she hated him worse than he had ever thought possible. Whenever his gaze met her, he found nothing but contempt. He actually avoided being alone with her, which was hard to do since they were staying together in hotel as a married couple... with the door guarded by that Senegalese Cerberus he was terrified of.

Daniel, however, met the eyes of another dark-haired woman, a petite woman wearing a long evening dress of dark green, a bit like a pine-tree at night. It had a quiet décolleté, just enough to tantalize men into trying to know her better, although she looked off-limits to anyone but the richest or the handsomest. There seemed to be something about her; perhaps it was the way she looked used to those nights in elite society, or the royal way she stood on top of her five feet two or so. Her high-cheeked beauty looked enhanced under the quiet tawny light from those century-old chandeliers, where white-gloved servants dexterously made their way through the polite throng while carrying crystal cups of champagne on a tray.

She quickly turned down one gentleman trying to start a chat, and then another one, as she negotiated her way closer to Daniel and broke the silence with a remark on the fact he had no wristwatch, which was a rarity these days. After jokingly inquiring whether he had one of those old pocket watches, she introduced herself as Elizabeth. She said she was an actress and loved film noirs. He considered her... Average height, high cheekbones and very soft features with fair skin in stark, glamorous contrast against her mid-length black hair. Her dress and her arm-covering evening gloves confirmed her indeed as a little queen used to the topside waters of society.

Abdoul had his eyes on him, as always.

"Elizabeth," Daniel said, "may I ask you a small favour?"

"For a young man as handsome as you, anything, as long as it's decent of course!" was her reply. This was the first time in what felt like ages he had heard himself being called handsome by a girl. Handsome had felt like a rotting-corpse joke whenever Abdoul had called him that.

Daniel half-smiled, feeling a surge of new life, a never-hoped-for surge. He went closer to her, where he got intoxicated by her all-female perfume, and enthralled by the all-darkness of her hair.

"Do you see that Negro over there?" he softly said. "No, don't look at him. Just nod."

Elizabeth nodded.

"He's a henchman working for a boss who's keeping me under watch. I need you to distract him so I can give him the slip."

"Oh, just like in a film noir!"

"So, can you do it?"

"Absolutely and without even trying," Elizabeth said, smiling and looking at him with dark eyes to die for. "As soon as I get his attention, slip out of here and go to my car. It's parked near the Queen Victoria Memorial. You can't miss it; it's a white Bugatti convertible with the black roof on."

And like a dream, the young actress with Scottish-black hair walked away from Daniel, looking royal and elegantly petite on her pumps as she approached the large black man, who himself looked a bit bunched up in his dress uniform. She indeed sounded Scottish, as Daniel realized this was what sounded funny in her accent. But her voice... Truly, this actress deserved to be cast alongside Humphrey Bogart!

It worked like a charm. God-damned be the King! He'd meet him some other day, maybe. But now, Daniel had something better to do. He needed, yes chiefly needed some way to regain some sense of virility. And what better way than to fuck this lovely Scottish-sounding actress?

Daniel saw the formidable-looking cook getting morphed into a stone-eyed surprised Negro as Elizabeth began speaking with him, ignoring the shocked stares from people around her. Negroes were admitted in Buckingham Palace as some sort of curiosity, only when they wore a dress uniform of the Royal Navy and only on personal approval from a superior officer, but of course they were barely tolerated and frowned upon. They were certainly not expected to be part of polite society, and certainly not to be spoken to by such a fashionable young lady as Elizabeth.

Daniel had no trouble getting out of the room unnoticed as nearly everyone was staring at the shocking chat between Abdoul and Elizabeth. Once outside, Daniel walked past the duty guards wearing their traditional red uniforms with bearskin hats, through the vast hallways with high walls resonating with his steps on the marble floor, then out the front gates. Once near the Queen Victoria Memorial, Daniel saw Elizabeth's car. Her white Bugatti was there all right. Its ivory white seemed to smile at him from under a tall, antique-looking post-light. Freedom! At last!

It took less than five minutes before Daniel saw a most feminine figure, cloaked in a greatcoat, as she briskly walked out of the gates, her dark hair playing artistic waves with the lamplight, her pumps making sharp sounds on the old English pavement as she passed the tall, red-uniformed sentries, whose eyes silently followed her lithe figure from under their tall bearskin hats. Elizabeth as she walked out of Buckingham Palace.

Daniel felt sucked right in the middle of a glamorous film. No doubt, Humphrey Bogart was going to walk right out of the next street corner. As if things were arranged in that direction, a quiet fog was gathering and starting to haunt the streets and blur the streetlamps with their ghastly fingers. London in November.

Daniel heard the chime from some large clock in the distance. The Big Ben, which had been damaged through German bombing raids, but the Clock Tower had followed the British example and remained standing, tirelessly striking each and every hour 'till V-E Day. Now it was striking ten on some eerie, typical London night.

"This is the Big Ben striking the hour. Is it your first time in England?" Elizabeth asked as she walked him to her Bugatti and he opened the door for her.

"No. I was drafted and trained here two years ago, before I landed on Juno Beach and fought the Nazis, but it certainly was my first time in Buckingham Palace!" replied Daniel as he took his seat at Elizabeth's left and she ignited the sporty motor.

"Army boy, aren't you? What rank?"

"Private First Class, Ma'am!"

"I'm a bit young to get called 'Ma'am', even by a handsome lad like you. Call me Eliza, will you?" Elizabeth said with a smile as she put her convertible sports car in gear and off they went between tall leafless trees on a wide gray, foggy boulevard called the Mall, speeding toward Horse Guards Road.

"All right, uh, Eliza. I feel like I'm in the middle of some crime movie..."

"And you're with an actress. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! How ironic! But you're running from someone, aren't you? That's too bad! I was most definitely curious to see His Majesty, but truth be told, I'd rather spend the night with a dashing young man like you. But where are you from? I hear some French accent when you talk."

"I'm from Canada. Montréal."

Daniel said the last word in French, just as if he was speaking to one of his young sisters.

As Elizabeth skillfully shifted gears and negotiated street corners like one who knew where she was going, Daniel observed her and realized how beautiful she really was. She was probably a bit older than him, but couldn't be more than twenty-five. She still had something of that school girl's air about her delicate face. A silver brooch was right there on the upper left side of her bosom, where her dark greatcoat gave sober hints of a perky pair of breasts.

"Appraising the goods, aren't we?"

"Uh, no Ma'am, uh I mean, uh, yes Ma'am! Uh..."

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Are all Canadians as funny as you? I really should go there some day! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

After a fifteen-minute drive through increasingly foggy streets, Elizabeth parked her Bugatti alongside the sidewalk, and the new pair got off and inside some old-brick hotel that clearly was a legacy from the years before Jack the Ripper.

"This place looks like there's a vampire living next door," Daniel observed, thinking of his first time reading Bram Stoker's Dracula in the original English.

"Hhm hhm, could be. Maybe I'm a vampyress taking you, clueless victim, to her lair! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

Both climbed some solid wooden stairs in a sombre staircase that had seen brighter days, with some steps creaking, as a testimony of plenty of bygone years and visitors. Daniel suddenly started to laugh.

"What's so funny?" asked Elizabeth, stopping in her ascent as he stopped with her.

"I know one quaint gentleman who'd be right at home in this hotel. He wears a stovepipe hat with an astrakhan coat and smokes some stylish cigars, and yet he's not any older than forty-five or fifty..."

"Interesting! Like the King of Bohemia in Arthur Conan Doyle's Scandal In Bohemia! I played it as Irene Adler three years ago on stage."

"On stage? I thought you were a movie actress, but, but you're so beautiful! They ought to notice you and put you in movies! You'd be a Hollywood star! Right there with Linda Darnell and Donna Reed!"

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! You're being really nice, young sir, but... By the way, what's your name?"

"Daniel."

"Well, Daniel, let's not tarry here in the middle of the stairs, like a drunk couple. I need to go and change out of this sarcophagus of a dress, and then off to dinner we go! I'm so hungry!"

Daniel remained silent as he walked along with his new companion in the hallway of the second floor, until they reached her room.

"Ready to see if I have a coffin to sleep in during daytime? Ha! Ha! Ha!" she jested upon unlocking the massive pine door.

Elizabeth walked in, then Daniel closed the door behind him.

And he was upon her!

"Pl... please, no... Wh-what are you doing?! ... ...."

Daniel had pushed her against the wall. He was French-kissing her like there's no tomorrow, driving his pelvis against her as he firmly held her against the wall, where some faded wallpaper with some pale grayish blue flowers witnessed Elizabeth's hopeless struggle against the young man, who was at least twice her size.

"Stop this! Please, no... Stop or... or... I'll s... scream!"

"I love your Scottish accent, young maid! I... You're so.... So beautiful! So glamorous! ... ... I just can't help myself!"

"Well, then be quick about it! I'm hungry!" replied Elizabeth, who quit resisting, now that she was wet down there, and quite flattered to be called "young maid" at twenty-four years of age. By a handsome boy who clearly was younger than herself; this had been a long-dreamed-of fantasy of hers.

Daniel urgently helped her out of her greatcoat, then out of her evening dress. He soon pushed her bra up and discovered a free-moving pair of tits that got him rock hard as he plunged and began sucking them like a milk-thirsty toddler. Her luminous skin seemed to suck in all the dim light around them as his wet sucking sounds filled the air.

"I told you to be quick about it! There's the sideboard here! You just rape me there, and then we can go to dinner!" Elizabeth said as she got rid of, and stepped out of, her long dress, then removed those long pale beige evening gloves, before swiftly removing her garters and her panties, all of it as black as her satin-black hair, kicking off her black pumps in the process.

Daniel contemplated her from her bare feet to the top of her low height, the black bush of hair between her legs making his erection painful. "Oh, Miss! You're..." Daniel just couldn't believe how gorgeous Elizabeth was in the nude.

"Stop talking! Just rape me there on this sideboard. I'm starving!" Elizabeth said, speaking like an adult to a child as she sat herself on the dark wooden sideboard.

Next moment, Daniel was hugging her, forgetting he was still fully clothed and still wearing his brand-new fedora hat.

"Come on, boy! Stick it out and take me! Must I tell you everything?"

Daniel, embarrassed upon noticing his clumsiness, undid his black trousers and lowered them, letting out a powerful specimen of Canadian manhood. He looked down and got a plunging view on one of the most inviting pair of tits he had ever seen; just as white as Blanche's, with perhaps a bit more fullness in them. He felt Elizabeth's legs on his sides, and even through his suit jacket, he sensed how much she wanted him.

And he pushed inside her. He had gained a lot of experience as of late. This was so much fun! He felt her pussy! So tight! Perhaps not as extra-tight as Blanche, but tight all right, very similar to Nadia. Daniel hugged his new girlfriend as he pushed himself all the way inside her! Oh, God and heavens! She tightly wrapped her legs around him and hugged him back, her arms strong on him, urging him to please fuck her hard and good! He sank his face in the dark wonders of her perfumed hair, he let his nostrils get some subtle whiff of mint and he began to fuck! Yes, to fuck! Like a big angry bear!

Taking her full buttocks into his hands, he began banging her on that sideboard, feeling himself grow even larger and harder inside Elizabeth, whose entire being enthralled him, very much as if she were some century-old vampyress. There was so much glamour about her! Fucking her felt amazing. She wanted him, but having her felt like violating her. She felt so off-limits! He was definitely going to fuck Zabel like this on their wedding night---hugging her while banging her on a sideboard! Making their first baby!

"You... you c-can go all, all the way, oahh! Ohh ooh this is so good! Oh, yes! Strong Canadian boy! Ooh oh oohh I'm so taken! This is... my safest t-time in the-the month! So shag me good!"

Daniel kept hugging her tight, deeply enthralled in her, in her hair, in her glamour. A prisoner. Piercing her! His hands full with her butt! Her butt banging on that sideboard, ragingly! Her whimpers in tune with the banging! She was loving this! He felt so much like a man! Like some revolted Negro slave raping the planter's daughter right in front of her father in some burning South Carolina mansion, with twenty more Negroes waiting their turn...

His cock was positively pulsating deep inside her while her buttocks kept getting flattened on that sideboard, very repeatedly, as they remained hugged together, his face brushing her sweaty cheek along with gone-astray strands of hair... She suddenly smelled so pungent! He could swear she was coming as her hot breathing blasted his face and she kissed him! Her butt ever-banging the sideboard... Everything went crazy and he... He exploded!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAA YESSS I'M A MAN nnnnnnnyyuuuuuuurrrhhhhhh Oooh! Oh Miss! Miss! You're amazing!"

"A man, you most certainly are. Can we have dinner now? I'm starving, positively starving!"

Daniel politely pulled out of the damsel, before helping her down the sideboard. He watched her dreamy wonderfulness, most of all the spotless loaves of her white bottom, and her graceful gait as the naked actress walked across the room before bending over and reaching for clothes in the leather luggage that waited for her on her bed.

With swiftness that reflected her haste in getting dinner, she got dressed in a pair of trendy pants, all black. She put on a white bra, then an equally white blouse with long sleeves adorned with ruff wrists. Lastly, she put on a vest of a warm custard yellow with an intriguing black fishnet pattern. She proudly and swiftly redid her lipstick. Best of all, she remained barefoot and simply slipped on a pair of wicker shoes that let his eyes see clear hints of those wonderfully small feet he had forgotten to kiss in his haste to fuck.

It was a new man, with a measure of newfound confidence, who sat on the passenger seat in the white Bugatti under its black convertible roof, to the left of a most glamorous lady, who drove them to one of the finest late-night restaurants in London, where a standing rib roast would be had, smoking and cooked to perfection with the Yorkshire pudding and all the trimmings, and a heart-warming pint of beer! Very much like in the English-speaking parts of Montreal, but only better. And truth be told, Daniel was himself very hungry.

"I think I'm going to eat like a lion!" he said as Elizabeth drove through London's foggy streets while the Big Ben struck eleven.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

CHAPTER 21 --- Elizabeth



Next morning, Elizabeth woke Daniel up. Since he had no money and no papers, he found out he was very much in her power, unless he wanted to go back into the hands of the Skipper and the man he feared the most---the cook. As Elizabeth offered him a ride northward through the English countryside, he nodded. Before she ordered breakfast.

He went to hug and kiss her, his mind set on using his morning glory inside her, but she stopped him with a convincing argument.

"Men are after you; you said it yourself last night. So we need to get out of London this very hour, and since you have no money, no papers, I'm the only one who can help you. No, stop this, don't make me scream or call the police on you! And besides, I'm already dressed up and I would absolutely hate to have to redo my hair! So get up, handsome boy, and let me watch how great you look naked! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!"

Elizabeth was wearing the same outfit as the night before after they made love. She was presently crouching in the act of putting on her wicker shoes, attracting Daniel's gaze to her delightful feet as he got up, naked. Her eyes followed his massive, yet athletic body as he moved about, looking for his beige boxers he had bought at La Baie in Montreal three years before, days before he was drafted to serve the King.

Her light-catching eyes promised worlds of pleasure for later. So he acted as a nice lad and got dressed in the one outfit he had---the smoking he wore on the previous evening. He loved her eyes, riddled with light-filled shadows. The straight bridge of her delicate nose, mirroring her mirage-thin eyebrows, got him hard upon thinking how great it would be to give a steaming coating of semen to such a pretty face.

Once both of them were dressed and street-ready, actually fashionable for a social call at an earl's mansion, Elizabeth led him to a small joint on the other side of the street, where she paid for their breakfast; the typical early meal of eggs, back bacon, baked beans, toasts and a hefty dose of strong coffee for the road ahead.

***

Daniel felt very much like a child, with no money, no passport and no driver's license as Elizabeth drove him in her Bugatti, soon on the English highway outside of London-- a narrow road, sometimes a bit winding, where she kept on the left side, driving past nice cottages and farmlands along with lindens, oaks and ash trees. Now and then, some granite tower or castle pierced the autumn brown of those naked trees, reminding one of how old this kingdom really was. Oftentimes they crossed a village or a town where Elizabeth's figure attracted quite a bit of men's attention.

Soon after getting out of yet another town, Elizabeth spoke, her gloved hands sensually controlling the wheel and the gear-shift stick at her left.

"There's an old villa that dates back to Romans, near Leeds. That's still nearly 120 miles from here up north and that's where we're going. I have some distant relatives there; very close friends. We'll be comfy there for a while. I'm sure you'll find some work there, a strong young bloke like you! But uho! I think there's a car chasing us."

Elizabeth pushed the gas pedal and quickly gained speed, soon driving the bends at a near-breakneck speed. Daniel felt a sense of tension and as he looked behind and noticed there were men in the pursuing car, another convertible sports car similar to the Bugatti. This was no coincidence; they were after him! Some evil part in him began to imagine what those men could do to her. His cock got hard as she sped on. If they got away from them, he was going to fuck her real good on the roadside soon after! He needed the extra fuck; his asshole was still sore from the cook's pounding.

"Blimey! Who's driving that car? I... I can't lose them!" Elizabeth said as she nearly lost control of her Bugatti while screeching through a steep curve.

The pursuing car was dark, ominous, and it was fast! Daniel noticed how close together the headlights were, now shut since it was daylight. Those silent headlights looked like some large fish eyes that seemed to say, "We gonna get you!"

"This is a Jaguar SS, a car just as fast as mine, and probably a bit faster since I'm, ohh Blimey! (Elizabeth took another curve at nearly 85 mph.) I'm a stage actress! Not a racing driver! Oh, let's take this track through the woods... We can lose them there. It's very much like a labyrinth of trails and byways."

Without hesitating, Elizabeth hit the brakes and swerved left into a trail that got bumpy and quite winding really fast, but the pursuing can gained even more on her! Now Elizabeth drove nervously, making all sorts of little mistakes that slowed her down, while the pursuing driver clearly knew what he was doing and gained even more! Those close-together fish-eye headlights were now deadly close! Close and still gaining!

Elizabeth, now in a panic, turned left into another trail, but the Bugatti slipped on a patch of mud and it hit the first of a ticket of tall ashes on her own side, putting the front wheel fender out of duty with a screeching sound of distorted metal!

"My Bugatti!!" Elizabeth cried as she hit the brakes and the car came to a screeching halt.

When she got her senses back, while Daniel remained silent, it was too late. The Jaguar was blocking her way out on her right and front! But she put the car into reverse. Her traction wheels spun a bit in the mud, but she kept on and soon, she felt she could make a tight u-turn, but the other car was also on reverse, and it forced Elizabeth to drive too close to the trees! She scrapped the real wheel fender on her side against a large oak, and offended its bark... then braked and tried to go forward again...

But the other driver followed suit! And he kept on her right side, where Daniel saw how both men smiled, very much amused as they looked at Elizabeth and her frantic attempts at eeling her Bugatti out of the jam she was now in. Her shadow-black hair itself seemed to be in a panic as she started to cry and shook her head at the wheel.

"Come on!" she yelled at her own car as she advanced on the bumpy forest floor, sandwiched between the deep-green Jaguar and shrubs. Elizabeth once again hit that same thicket of ash trees and further scrapped her already-gone wheel fender!

"Bloody Nora! We won't shake them up! We... we better see what they want. Oh, my poor Bugatti!"

Daniel knew he should have been a gentleman and say he was sorry for pulling her into this jam, but he silently observed both men, smiling as they got out of their Jaguar. Each man had a 9-mm Browning pistol. One had a beige peak-cap and smiled evilly as he gazed at Elizabeth. Both wore a dark overcoat and both were quite tall and large, making them look remarkably like those two Soviet agents Daniel had seen in Paris. The British King's version of it.

The closest man pointed his gun at Daniel and gestured for him to come out, as he was closest to the other car. But Daniel couldn't get out on his own side since the Jaguar was dead close and blocking the door's way. However, there was room between trees on Elizabeth's side.

Elizabeth got out and began to protest.

"What do you want? Look at what you did to my Bugatti!"

"Shut up, tramp!" the first man replied, pointing his Browning at her and smiling under his driver's cap, his eyes appraising her whole figure through her dark-green greatcoat; he was not in the least interested in the silver brooch she wore on the left side of her bosom. Elizabeth felt a grotesque mix of terror and excitement; the terror of danger and the excitement of being in some real-life crime "movie". Then tears began to stream down her cheeks as she got hit by the brutal nature of her danger as a woman.

All this while the other man, the accomplice, gestured for Daniel to come out.

"Hands behind your back!" the accomplice barked as soon as Daniel was out of the white Bugatti. Daniel obeyed, sheepishly, his heart sunk, but his cock royally hard as he kept looking at Elizabeth's distress in front of the pistol-brandishing driver, who walked ominously close to her.

He felt and heard the click of handcuffs, while the driver got within two yards from Elizabeth, smiling a mile wide as he kept appraising her from head to toe. Elizabeth was terrified! She recoiled from him while he kept advancing on her...

"Women shouldn't drive on the road! As you just found out, it can be very dangerous!" the tall driver said between his smiling teeth, his eyes aiming at her bosom as she kept recoiling from him as he kept advancing on her. Until she had her back against the wide, moss-covered trunk of a century-old ash tree.

"Kneel down, Sir!" the second agent said. "We're from His Majesty's secret service. His Majesty the King of England loves weightlifting and he's dying to meet you. We're on orders to bring you back. But since your companion got us running like this in the countryside, she owes us some compensation!"

Just as he finished speaking, the man skillfully wrapped some strong rope around Daniel's ankles where he knelt, making him quite helpless to run, let alone to defend Elizabeth, who now began to scream as the driver groped her breasts through her autumn clothes and began to forced-kiss her, his active 220-lb frame pinning the lithe actress against that thick tree while dead leaves crisped under his boots.

"No! Please! Stop this! I'm an actress! The King..."

"We know you're an actress, Miss Sellars! And this is why we're going to shag you real deep and proper right here!" replied the Jaguar's driver as he kept groping her, now positively pressing her tits through her vest and blouse inside the gaping opening of her greatcoat while she writhed and screamed, caught between the large man and the venerable ash.

Daniel looked on, feeling out of place and childish, kneeling, tied up and wearing a smoking in the middle of a forest, while his companion was about to get raped. And he wished he could partake. Not this again!

"No, no please... Nooo!!!"

"Oh yeah! Look at her! Look at those titties!" said the driver as he brutally pushed up all her garments at once, the black-on-custard fishnet pattern of her vest, the white blouse and even her white bra... He bunched it all up, grossly, while Elizabeth was wailing, in tears, as the bright display of her jiggling breasts was suddenly out and floating under those bunched-up clothes. Very alluring tits with some wine-brownish nipples! All of her bosom bumping into the man's gaze as Elizabeth further screamed and the accomplice joined in the fun, groping her legs through her black pants and helping his mate to hold her.

"This is some capital fun we're going to have this morning!" the accomplice said as he "kindly" helped the screaming young woman out of her greatcoat while groping her butt and getting the large piece of clothing out of the way. She wailed and tried to weasel herself out of their grasp, but the driver had a compelling hold on her wrists and held her arms together while his accomplice discarded her greatcoat, his eyes studying the pants-revealed curves of her buttocks as she was forced to lean over, her wicker shoes hopelessly trampling those crispy dead leaves, giving a strong hue of copper brown to her tragedy.

She felt the chill of the air on her lightly covered feet and this completed her sense of already being naked in front of those gross men. Elizabeth knew they were just about to forcibly strip her naked, and do what she will, she shamefully realized she was terrifyingly wet down there.

"No... Nooo!" she wailed. Looking all around her as if to search for some knight who would save her. Her whirling gaze only met Daniel, who was tied-up and kneeling like a punished schoolboy. Shame oozing out of him as he looked down, avoiding her gaze. Coward!

"Shut up, tramp! If you keep screaming, some hunters are going to come here, and guess what they'll do! They'll join us in raping you!"

"NO! NOOOO! You've got no right to do this! Get your hands off me, you big ship bollard! Bloody Nora you'll regret this! Nooo..."

Both men laughed together and went into a frenzy as they put their pistols back in their pocket holster under their jackets. They let Elizabeth breathe for a while as they removed their hats and their greatcoats for the action ahead.

Elizabeth thought it would be a good idea to run. It wasn't. Soon, she was screaming as both King's men caught up with her and took her back to a small clearing of trees near her damaged Bugatti, with Daniel kneeling like a big child, tied up and watching.

Daniel, more than ever, felt like a heartless lion, but he watched as the pair of scoundrels carried Elizabeth by the wrists and ankles before dropping her on the wet grass like a sack of potatoes. Her body made a thunderous smack as her butt hit that wet ground. She wailed as she felt her butt getting wet and cold through her pants.

"You will pay for this! Scoundrels!" Elizabeth hollered through her sobs.

As soon as Elizabeth was on the ground, both men were on her! The driver held her lovely hands together on top of her head, while the other man got on top of her and once more, her vest and her blouse got bunched up all the way against her throat, and the wide playground of her naked breasts was on full display!

Daniel shamefully enjoyed the sight, his cock hickory-hard and hopelessly out of his reach as he was handcuffed behind his back.

While the kneeling driver forcibly removed her driving gloves and began to force her bare hands to stroke his groin through his tweed trousers, the other man abandoned himself to the primal act of sucking her breasts while Elizabeth began to cry, protesting in the loudest terms. The driver told her she was secretly enjoying this as he let her hands feel the hardness of his erection through his trousers, while his accomplice let her nipples feel the tongue of a common man---and upon looking down, Elizabeth saw he was balding and middle-aged with flickers of silver hair. The horror!

The middle-aged accomplice, not minding his knees getting wet through his trousers from that damp ground, engulfed one of her tits in his wide-open mouth, and as he felt the captive nipple under his tongue, he went unable to fathom his joy! He was filled with the excitement of having chased, then caught her! His joy doubled as he played with her off-limits mounds, lovely in the way they yielded under his touch, her despaired wails a music to his ears! His loaded cock filled with wild anticipation!

"Nobody's coming to save you, Miss!" the driver said, keeping her hands held together and forcing her to stroke his cock through his dark trousers, not minding that dampness getting wet and cold around his knees either, as both men enjoyed the foreplay.

Then Daniel heard the sound of a motor. Through the leafless trees, he soon saw the metallic reflections of an incoming car. As the car drew closer and came to a glamorous halt behind Elizabeth's damaged Bugatti, Daniel recognized the distinctive shape of a Rolls Royce. He also saw the men inside and panicked. The cook!

"Look, Allan, our friends made it here!" the accomplice told the driver, then sinking back into his act of sucking the breasts of Elizabeth, who kept wailing while being shamed by her own body and the way it was reacting to that brutal tit-sucking. She was so very sensitive there! The sense of being stripped from any sort of control made her even wetter! But that damp ground was so cold; her whole back was now soaked and cold to the bone! Wet leaves stuck on her bare back; she felt them too as she begged the men to let her go...

"Noo! Please don't! I'll say nothing! Just let me go! Let me go I beg you! Noo! AAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH! NAAOOOOO!"

"Bloody Nora! We're going to have to share her!" the driver replied, ignoring the shrieks of panic from Elizabeth as she saw three men emerging from the car.

***

All three men were soon gazing at her like predators. One of those three men was a Negro! Elizabeth recognized him as they came closer. It was the very same Negro she had distracted as Daniel gave him the slip in Buckingham Palace! The man was smiling at her with an air of revenge. Elizabeth suddenly learned the true meaning of terror as she saw how large he was, how strong he looked in his sailor's dress uniform, and how he was gazing at her with his jungle-ferocious eyes! She truly panicked and lost all measure of empire on herself upon spotting the bulge of his pants as he walked closer. Too close!

Elizabeth shrieked at the very top of her voice, which broke and went husky.

Daniel's heart turned to water! He looked down to avoid his terrible gaze. The cook! Not him! Yes, him. His rapist. Along with him walked a driver wearing a peak-cap and a greatcoat, both items of a deep rusty red. With them also walked a Navy officer wearing a battered peak-cap and the two-and-a-half stripes of a Lieutenant-Commander down his dark jacket sleeves. The Skipper! But he wasn't looking at Daniel. All his attention was bent on Elizabeth and her bare breasts.

"Five men for just one girl. I hope she loves cocks!" the Skipper said, laughing at his own jest as he saw how gorgeous she truly was with her well-slobbered tits as she kept screaming in a panic and begging them to please, please not let the Negro take her!

"I'll... I'll do anything you ask, I swear! But just please don't let this... this animal touch me! I can be a good girl, you'll see!"

"Well! Let's see! Now get on your knees and open your mouth!" the Jaguar driver said, standing up from her and quickly unzipping his black trousers, feeling his wet knees relieved as he was no longer kneeling on that cold wet ground and not caring about the dead leaves sticking to his trousers, while the Rolls Royce driver and the Skipper both unzipped their own trousers and began to masturbate. The air was filled with the smell of wet dead leaves and something primal and positively ferocious. Elizabeth was at the bottom of it.

Like a good girl, and believing she had a deal, Elizabeth slid from under the suddenly docile accomplice, who also stood up and began to masturbate as the stage actress with raven hair got down on her knees, giving the accomplice a royal view on the full shapes of her buttocks, and the graceful play of her pants-clad legs as she knelt down. The Skipper followed every inch of her movements, and every hint of her feet through her wicker shoes as he kept masturbating.

"Now, open this beautiful mouth of yours and taste my cock!" the Jaguar driver ordered. "Obey my commands!" he added, revelling in the satisfaction of giving orders to such a high-class young lady.

Then there was a majestic silence in this forest of England. Only broken by Elizabeth's slurping sounds as she began to suck the Jaguar driver, with her hand on the base of his shaft, like the good girl she knew she could be. Anything but getting shagged by a Negro!

The slurping silence was also broken by some footsteps. Boots on the damp forest floor. Crisp sounds from crunched dead leaves on this sunny day of November.

"Blimey, son! What is this?!" said a fifty-something hunter wearing a deerstalker hat as he discovered the astonishing scene where a gorgeous young woman, her clothes and hair in disarray, was kneeling down and giving fellatio to a man in a black suit and offering the general figure of a policeman, while another policeman-like man was standing close by and... Masturbating?! And so were other men! One of them a Negro wearing a sailor's uniform, and another one a car driver in a rust-red suit, and the third one a... a Navy officer?!

"Goodness gracious!" the middle-aged hunter exclaimed. His eyes magically drawn to Elizabeth's curves, her black pants (pants on a woman?!) offering an alluring contrast against the white of her elbow-dirty blouse, now partly outside of those pants, and also against the peculiar custard yellow of her vest. He then noticed the fancy fishnet pattern on that vest and realized she was some fancy big-town lass. Right there, the hunter felt positively aroused! He had never shagged a London girl, not once in his all-country life. The Belgian lass he had forcibly seduced as a soldier back in 1916 was also a country girl, just like his wife of 25 years...

"Hey, look father! There's a man kneeling in handcuffs! What the deuce is he doing here in a tuxedo?! And this... A Bugatti! I've never seen such a car! And this, a Jaguar! And a Rolls Royce!" the lad ejaculated, actually feeling drawn to the young woman, but trying to distract himself with the cars as he felt there was foul play there. Most of all, he felt shy about what this woman was doing with that man in a black suit. What was that slurping sound?

As soon as he spotted the newcomers, the Jaguar driver pulled out of Elizabeth's mouth and faced them, with his Browning pistol in his hand... and his spit-polished erection stupidly jutting out, its pale skin in plain sight against his dark trousers.

"Oh, Sir, there's really no need to alarm yourself!" the hunter said as he put down his 12-gauge hunting shotgun and let it rest on the dead leaves, before ordering his son to do the same. The son immediately followed suit; he was still just a lad.

Daniel looked at the lad and noticed the way he was eying Elizabeth; and he felt sorry for him. Clearly, this lad was a virgin. Partaking to a gang-rape was a horrible way to lose one's virginity. And this painfully reminded Daniel of the first rape he had committed on top of Juno Beach on D-Day. Daniel too had lost his virginity in that foul way.

The circle of men organically formed around Elizabeth. Augmented to seven men to a single girl. Elizabeth was still kneeling. Her head sunk, tears streaming down her eyes, her face cast down, looking down at the damp grass and the copper-brown dead leaves as she felt the dampness through her soaked pants and that wet cold imprisoning her knees.

The driver's lowering erection was comically jutting out of his trousers as he pocketed his pistol back under his jacket. A dark corner of her mind formed the plan of somehow getting hold of that gun; anything to avoid getting utterly gang-shagged! She felt so ashamed for being all wet down there! She felt completely overwhelmed, surrounded by men. She went silent. She did not want to attract more men through her screams. Most of all, she spotted the lad and saw how young he was; and this made her even wetter inside her pussy. She felt her tits as they swelled under her loosened blouse, as her body reacted in a host of unpredictable ways. Elizabeth was in pain, but she felt savagely drawn to the lad, and his cock, amid her daylight nightmare. If only those awful men had not been there! If only she had been alone with the lad. A growing part within herself made her want him to come and rip all her clothes from her, and then take her! But no! She shouldn't be such a tramp! Not her! Not the up-and-coming actress she was!

And yet, every inch of her felt thirsty for the lad's novice touch. This was why she had felt drawn to Daniel in the first place, for Daniel looked handsome and not much older than 20, tall and thickly muscled, and yet still a lad from the look of his face, but when they had sex, she had felt disappointed within herself as she sensed he had a hellish lot of experience, and from the weird way Daniel was touching her and moving, she had felt... raped. Elizabeth looked at Daniel and she saw it in his eyes. This man had raped before! And right now, although he was powerless, handcuffed and kneeling like a punished child, she saw through Daniel, she saw the dark violence in his eyes as she realized that what Daniel would have wanted now was to partake in her gang rape!

Elizabeth's heart sank as she felt so hopelessly alone! Surrounded by hostile male lust.

She let the other men get their hands on her and force her to stand, her height quite low amid all those tall men. The hunter was the proverbially thin Englishman with distinction in the way he dressed, looking a bit like a countryside Sherlock Holmes with his deerstalker cap and his brown outfit, a quietly plaid jacket, and his dignified deportment that offered a weird contrast to the depravity of her predicament. Elizabeth felt weirdly attracted to him --- and especially his son. The other men felt completely repulsive to her, especially that balding scoundrel who had sucked her tits! The Negro was a nightmare beyond words. But the men had promised to spare her the horror of the Negro's affections... if she was a good girl!

Thus she let them touch her anyway they wanted, silently enduring the ordeal of butt groping, and even their hands on her swollen tits, as they commented her beauty, using their words to further arouse themselves. Elizabeth kept looking at the lad, but the tall boy kept avoiding her gaze.

Then everything went fast. The Jaguar driver claimed first inside her, as he had been the one who overtook "the little tramp" in her fast car, and he wanted "a piece of her lovely white ass".

Elizabeth was taken to the Jaguar and roughly bent over its hood, which felt motor-warm to her cheek as her face got pressed onto the hood, and she heard their jeers and their comments on her curves and on how she was secretly enjoying this. The worst was to know she was soaking wet from knowing that the lad was there among them, that he was going to take his turn inside her...

She was given all the leisure needed to see how deep green this hood was, but then she suddenly felt the pull from her pants and a cool breeze on her bare buns! The Jaguar driver had brutally pulled down her pants and ripped her panties off! Grunting in the savagery of the act as he did so.

"HhRrrrhh! Look at her lovely arse! Such curves! She's my booty!" the dignified-looking hunter ejaculated as he frantically unbuttoned his old-fashioned trousers and began to masturbate himself hard while the Jaguar driver enjoyed the priceless moment, treating himself to the pleasure of tapping Elizabeth's round and full buttocks with his hardening erection! This killed any remnants of her pride.

"Will the Negro rape you! Will he not! That is the question, stage actress! Aahhrrryyy yeaaahhh!" the driver jested, then roared as he viciously pushed inside Elizabeth, whose lovely face began to slide on the hood of his Jaguar while he took hold of the crease of her hips and began to pound her, under the approving grunts of all six onlookers, as he grunted with an absolute sense of victory, immensely enjoying the pressure from being deep inside her, the piston-like strokes he fed her and the sunlit sight of her pale butt!

Amid the compact circle of grunting onlookers who all masturbated, the Jaguar driver had the time of his life as he violated Elizabeth like a prancing stallion, while Daniel was kneeling and handcuffed on the opposite side and could only hear Elizabeth's cries as her buns collided hard against the victorious driver.

Daniel heard those butt-smacking sounds along with the driver's grunts. He felt way too afraid of the cook to snake his way where he could see. So he just listened, listened to her whimpers, listened to the men's collective grunting as the chase reached its natural result. Elizabeth got raped; with her face on that pursuing car's hood. As he listened on, Daniel felt the hardness of his cock, which he couldn't reach thanks to his handcuffed hands behind him. This was hell!

Elizabeth's butt was the absolute pole of attraction for all seven men encircling her, one of whom was enjoying the wonders of her wet pussy. The Jaguar driver was now holding her wrists together on the small of her back as he gleefully raped her.

Against the hem of her blouse and her fishnet-patterned, custard vest, her buttocks looked even more naked and unreal, with her thin buttcrack confirming the hard-to-believe fact that the sleek-haired actress was indeed butt-naked and gang-raped against the Jaguar.

"Ahhr ahhr ahhhr ahhr ahhhrrr! We got ya! Aaahrr ahhr ahhhr ahhr ahhr! By Jove she's prime stock!" thundered the grunting driver as he enjoyed his victorious chase, feeling her distress through her very wrists he kept a firm hold on as he raped her on, feeling his climax drawing near.

The Jaguar driver was in paradise! Blissfully taming the actress, who bitterly cried as she felt her pussy reacting with juices galore to the brutal invasion. The thumping from that heavy man! Her swollen breasts against that hard and warm hood... Her cheek forced to keep sliding along with the horror... And he kept pushing, relentless! Unabating!

He now raped her even more savagely as she was filled with disgust and shock as she felt that twitch inside her and realized he was just about to... while her whimpering face kept gracing the hood of the dark green Jaguar.

The driver hit his jackpot! "Ahhhr ahhr ahhhrrr! AAA AAAAAAAAaaa aaahhhrraahhhhaaaaaaa... ooh yes!" His long-winded moan filled the air as he spewed his load inside the weeping girl. Elizabeth thought her cheek was still forced to slide against the hood, but she realized with a shock that the rape was over, that her sore wrists were suddenly free.

Then the accomplice took his turn. He couldn't resist the charm of such buttocks and decided on a doggy-style round of forced sex as well.

"It's me again, pretty lass! I'm the one who sucked your tits! Now moan for me like the tramp you are! Moan for me or I'll take your asshole instead!"

Elizabeth began to moan, loud and deep, overcoming her sense of disgust as she felt the accomplice's cock painfully entering her as he rammed her. And then he raped her, brutally hard! The Jaguar wobbled on its suspension sideways as he gave her the deep treatment, punishing her for having let herself be overtaken and caught by the Jaguar.

"Ah yes! Ahh yes! God save the King! Ooaahh! This is so bloody good! Aah yeahh..."

Elizabeth had to endure this and kept moaning, remembering his threat and realizing this could get even worse since she had never been shagged inside her backdoor. She kept her hand pressed on that hated hood, as if he were giving some affection to the insensible Jaguar while her face, wet with tears, kept relentlessly slide on the hard, well-polished hood. Now she hated the green colour.

On and on, her rape lingered on as the balding accomplice had the unfortunate quality of being a long-lasting cock. But eventually, the Elizabeth's bottom with her black pants down her legs prevailed. At last, the large accomplice pressed himself against her and felt her deep and completely his, as he grunted like a love sick moose---such was Daniel's impression as he listened to his sickening relief---and Elizabeth got filled up properly. Filled with a deep feeling of being worse than filth.

Then, they let the country hunter have his go. The son looked on with disbelief as his father took his stand behind the exhausted girl, caressing her buttocks and calling her "a lovely little London lass" as he smiled under his deerstalker cap. Elizabeth felt his touch and heard his voice; the old man felt almost attractive to her after the horrible accomplice.

"P-please, S-sir, rape me gently, Sir," Elizabeth stammered through her sobs.

"Agreed, young lady!" The respectable hunter replied as he gently stroked her defeated raven hair, then her backside, before pushing up her blouse along with her vest, all those cothes higher up so he could see more of her as he mentally decided he was going to hold her waist all through the session of forced sex. He felt some respectable measure of guilt as he took out his respectable erection. It was as straight as a flagpole. Throbbing under his hand as he pushed it inside her, gently.

And he became absolutely berserk as he rammed her!

"Aahhrr yaahhhrr! Bloody little lass! I've always wanted to shag a stranger girl in the forest! Like this--yaahhrraAAAARRRhhh! Like a beast--yaarhrrr!!! Like this! A beastly shag! With a young little lass! Aahh yyaaaAAAAAARRR!!!"

The son and the other men watched the fascinating shock waves on Elizabeth's all-white skin every time her butt came crashing against the tall hunter. He took her with his legs slightly bent so he could connect straight inside her, holding her waist fast as he raped her with absolute pleasure, unbridled in his pure rage while Elizabeth kept whimpering like an absolute tramp, her face ever-sliding on the dark green hood as she cried and begged him to be a gentler man...

The hunter lost his deerstalker cap as he went even more berserk, hurting her waist where he was holding her. Such was his gleefull rage!

Soon enough, his scream of bliss echoed against the leafless ash trees, consummating the forced marriage in broad daylight. Only then did he realize he had lost his cap and he was hurting the young lady, who was sobbing, her beautiful hair forming a sorry blanket of shadow on that green hood, where she was crying and suffering. He felt suddenly guilty and sorry for her.

Then the Skipper smiled and acted like a good sport. He tapped the son on his shoulder and invited him to go right there after his father. The shy lad hesitated, but then Elizabeth looked up behind her and she saw him--- just a lad! Her gone-crazy mind noticed how young he looked, with those apple cheeks and those freckles on his pale face. She couldn't help it, but felt genuinely horny in spite of the pain inside her sore pussy; it felt like scorching snake venom that had notes of honey with heat to give her down there...

Hesitatingly, the lad walked behind the young woman. She felt old to him; old, but so beautiful! So erotic, bent over as she was with her buttocks in plain sight. His erection was painful and he felt weird as he got it out. Weird and shy. But he had to do this. He was filled with curiosity; he had known only masturbation to pin-up girls in magazines. Now he was going to see what it's like for real! His bodily urges prevailed over his shyness.

Elizabeth tried to remain stoic, feeling she was about to moan, but now wanting to give the other men the satisfaction of hearing this from her! And yet, as she felt the lad's touch on her, her own body pushed one beast of a moan out of hear. The horrific arousal filled her. Every inch of her. She loved lads! And then she felt the wetness and his hands on her buns... He was kissing her butt!

"Come on, Robert! It's time for you to become a man!" his father said as he put his deerstalker hat back on.

The penetration came. Brutally sweet to Elizabeth. Sweet, shameful, and gently brutal. This boy was making a tramp out of her! Because he was raping her with so much innocence! Because his hands on her waist felt so ungodly young! It was something sinful and sweet that should never be allowed to happen. And this was why Elizabeth was now moaning so loud; and all men around her laughed at her.

"What a tramp! They're all alike! Women all want men to teach them their place! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" the Jaguar driver said as he watched how the novice-soft buttocks of the lad flexed as he fed her his tentative strokes---and he secretly felt attracted to the lad.

"You're damn right, Allan! Tramps! All of them tramps who love a hard cock!" the accomplice replied as he wiped the sweat off his balding head, his eyes devouring Elizabeth as her pretty face kept sliding on that deep-green hood, with her butt under the sun and between the lad's hands.

The boy raped her quietly, giving gentle strokes and letting her feel his shy gaze on her as he kept moaning in strange tones that made one think of a choir boy who suddenly realized he was alone in church and began to masturbate to the face of the Holy Virgin. In a Scottish church. As the rape went on, the Scottish actress moaned louder and louder, on the verge of a climax, but then the lad trembled and shivered and he let out one bizarrely grotesque cacophony of sounds as he shot a thick and steaming load inside her...

"WWHHAAA AAAA AAAAAAAAHHRRR AAAAAA NNNNNYYUddjjmml nnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnngghh..."

"All right! Let's give her the honour of the countryside!" the Skipper bellowed. "Let's strip her completely naked!" he added as he lifted her off the Jaguar's hood. This was going to be his first rape amid a forest. He was eager to penetrate her, but he wanted to take the time to undress her and enjoy her beauty, for she was positively gorgeous.

TO BE CONTINUED.

Acting credits...
Elizabeth Sellars as... a young stage actress of the same name

[HistBuff]

Note: I think it was a good idea to cut Elizabeth's ordeal in two distinct chapters. I don't know of any other erotic writer who paid such a tribute to this UK actress.

***

CHAPTER 22 --- Fine Game Hunting

As they carried her and moved her around, Elizabeth obediently let them take her clothes off, feeling a sense of surrender mixed with pain and shame. Absolute shame. But this came with the warmth from the lad's semen inside her; this came with the feel of his burning gaze on her as they swiftly undressed her and revealed more and more of her. All she saw around her was only the faces of white men. Good! Anything but the Negro!

The cook put a knee down near Daniel and taunted him about his new girlfriend getting properly gang-shagged, while all six white men quickly stripped Elizabeth of all clothing, forcing goosebumps around her hard nipples under the cool breeze of November while her white skin got kissed by the sun as the shadow of a cloud moved away from her, making one believe the heavens were themselves accomplice of her defilement. The very wind made it sound like the tall oaks and ashes were whispering among themselves about their sordid desire to sink a branch inside her.

Elizabeth looked directly at the lad and subconsciously arched her back, allowing him to see her high-riding tits even better, and the boy looked down, but then he looked at her, looked down again, only to look at her harder as he loved the sight of her naked bosom---his very first time seeing a topless girl in the flesh.

"Madam, you look better than all those pin-up girls in my magazines!" the lad told Elizabeth, who felt his gaze on the tips of her swollen breasts, then realized he could also see her black-haired vulva and blushed. His voice sounded so erotic, and unreal amid this nightmare where she stood nearly naked amid those horrible men.

They laid her down on the damp forest floor and she felt the damp grass and those dead leaves against her bare back. The lad kept watching, standing next to his father. The Negro also stood by and watched as the four other men finished stripping Elizabeth naked.

As he helped taking off her pants, the Skipper slipped her wicker shoes off her feet and began to worship them with heated licks as if she were made of the sweetest candy; as he did so, he found unfathomable enjoyment in the caressing of her ankles and lower legs, the alluring lines of which fed his erection.

This while the Rolls Royce driver was actively fingering her pussy and commenting on the black-velvet perfection of her "Scottish carpet"... He then told her he had seen her playing Cleopatra on the London stage two years before when he was still a soldier. He had been wanting to shag her ever since that night. He boasted about having shagged Vera Lynn the famous singer and said he was going to compare, this while he forced her to moan, and to beg him to stop, with his insisting finger inside her.

Robert, the hunter's son watched the Navy officer and the Rolls Royce driver playing with the naked actress. He was already getting hard again and masturbating... While the accomplice presently forced-kissed her while pinning her on the ground as she complained of being cold from the damp grass... while the Jaguar driver finished removing her blouse and vest past her small wrists and hands... while the dignified-looking hunter knelt and stooped down so he could kiss and caress her wide-offered tits, as she begged them to please lift her off that cold and wet grass. Elizabeth disappeared under the overwhelming sum of their collective affections. She was prime Scottish meat.

"All right boys," the Skipper said. "You've heard the lady! She says she's cold, so let's warm her up! Lift her off and hold her floating with her legs spread out for me! This patch of cunt hair looks most promising! Lady, I've saved my morning glory for you!"

Elizabeth screamed with rage, then moaned and whimpered, as they lifted her and kept her spread-eagled in their midst! The Jaguar driver smiled at her and promised her "a nice country derby she will never forget" while his accomplice kept his hand on her tits, and amid all this, the hunter's son touched her bush of shadow-black pussy hair, causing her to moan against her will. For one fleeting moment, she could swear she was waking up beside Daniel in her London hotel room... But no, the nightmare was real.

Then the Skipper instructed the men to prop her legs up, and as he yelled "God save the King!" he penetrated Elizabeth most vigorously and she began to whimper, lost and naked amid the fully clothed men, all of them grinning and most of them having already given her a load of sperm.

"Look at this little Scottish pretty face!" the Rolls Royce driver bellowed as he pinched her chin and shook her head of raven hair while her whole body was rocked by the Skipper's repeated ramming!

"This is a good face to take sperm! I'm definitely going to try this out later! What a piece of fun she is!" the bald accomplice added while holding her opposing arm.

"A-haa, ahaa aa-haa ahaa ahaaa..." Elizabeth uttered on and on, her tits dancing for those men as she had no choice but to endure this new, vicious rape. At least, she was kept floating and no part of her was touching that damp ground...

Elizabeth's beautiful head kept bobbing between the Jaguar driver's arms, her expression a mix of bitterness and forced arousal as she felt the lad's gaze on her jiggling tits --- she loved younger lads and would have been delighted to be alone with him, but she hated meeting him on such horrific terms! The lad wasn't all that handsome -- his eyes were small and commonplace, his hair was hopelessly red and flat to the light, but he had innocence written all over his school-boy's face, and this was all that mattered for her secret fantasy. This fantasy was now the only thread that held her above insanity.

The lad couldn't take his eyes off the jiggling splendour of her tits as he held Elizabeth's right leg, propped up along with the other leg while the Skipper kept powerfully ramming her, holding her ankles with her feet pressed on the upper chest of his uniform, and those little feet looked even paler there! Elizabeth would never forget that woolen contact with his black Navy jacket under her soles; this and the painful intrusions of his cock. She chanced to look at him and saw his fake smile. Disgusting!

"Sir, you may be an officer, but you're no gentleman!" Elizabeth yelled amid her sobs and her whimpers. Her hands formed beautiful little fists amid those men as she endured the slug-fest with her face tensed and her nipples dancing in the center of the tumult.

The lad was hypnotized by those ever-moving nipples, fascinated by the goosebumps on her wine-brown areolas. He moved his hands further down under her butt, helping the others to hold her for the grunting officer, and causing Elizabeth to let out louder and longer-winded moans as she felt the boy's firm touch on her bottom!

As she endured the collective rape, Elizabeth kept looking at the lad, directly, and some hot waves of pleasure swept her small body as she kept feeling his gaze on the fleshy tumult of her swollen tits. Why did she had to meet this young bloke in such a horrific way? Morals and horror forbidded her to just enjoy being naked in front of him.

"Aahhr yes! Yes! This is a fitting way to celebrate my promotion!" the Lieutenant-Commander bellowed between his grunts, wearing his fake smile as he felt her pussy tight against his throbbing cock.

"What a magnificent rape! Aahhhrrrr yeaaaahhh UUUUUUUGGGHHH!!! Oh, by Jove! Ooh this was sweet!"

After the Skipper pulled out and let his seed ebb out of her hole as a glistening river of sunlit goo, on the inner side of her right thigh, the Rolls Royce driver walked in and proudly presented his nine-inch slugger! Elizabeth's eyes became wide saucers of terror and anticipated pain!

"Please, no noo! Spare me! Let me smoke your cigar, you'll see, I'm, good with my mouth, but please, don't..."

"Thanks for the offer, Milady, but I want to feel your cunt first! Don't worry, I'm not going to last very long inside so pretty a lass, so just relax and enjoy! Hey boys, put her feet on the ground and bend her over! I want to see how white her butt really is!"

With Elizabeth protesting in the strongest terms, the seven-man squad forced Elizabeth down and standing on the ground, Elizabeth who didn't even realize the Negro was touching her butt-- and immensely loving it, although he did miss Blanche, who was younger... just 18 with an unreal-firm butt! This woman was already well in her twenties. She felt acceptable for the smug Negro.

As the protesting girl was held fast in her bent-over position, Daniel watched and got transfixed by the beauty of her legs, and her ungodly bare feet, where the naked actress stood on the damp ground where the sun graced the painting-worthy lines of her legs, and her curves! And her ivory-pale skin!

The Rolls Royce driver had quickly stripped himself shirtless. Smiling a mile wide in his perfectly shaved face, the tall driver dropped his rust-red trousers and held his cock to Elizabeth's slit and bent his legs for a good groove into her paradise! This while the grinning men held Elizabeth place and told her to stop her pointless wailing...

"Shut up, little tramp! We know you love a good shaking in the countryside! Just relax and enjoy!" the Rolls Royce driver hollered as he held his cock near her entrance, with one hand wonderfully sinking into the girly firmness of her butt.

"NNAAAAH AAAAH AAAAAAAA NAAOOOOO! You're too big! Too big! Please let me take you in my mouth! PllEEE EEEEEE EEEEEEEEEEEEEEZZEE!!!"

Ignoring her cries, amid a fat round of laughter from the men who held her in that bent-over rape attitude, the Rolls Royce driver pushed his monster slugger inside her! Deep! And she shrieked! And he began to punish Elizabeth! He grabbed her waist and began to bounce those her butt loaves, flattening them hard against him in loud "smat--smat--smatt" sounds as he learned how tight she truly was! Her whimpers were pure music!

"Cleopatra! I love you! Let me be your Tarquinius!" the ignoramus proudly bellowed, thinking he was sounding learned and polished, but not realizing he was confusing the Queen of Egypt with Lucretia, who was raped by Rome's last king 500 years before Cleopatra's time.

Daniel could see how hairy his pale buttocks were; the Rolls Royce driver had scary dark hair all over his bare back! As he laughed and held Elizabeth's waist, his senses drunken with a feeling of complete dominance, he hammered her deep and hard, always bouncing her butt hard against him. And she echoed his efforts with pitiful whimpers!

"YEAAHHH! INSIDE HER! NOW TO SHAG!" the tall man said, soon losing his driver's cap as he now pounded Elizabeth in absolute rape frenzy! Frothing slobber came out of his open mouth as he began to heavily sweat under this unusually warming sun for the time of the year. Elizabeth's pain-loaded wails got mixed with the rhythmical savagery of his grunts.

As he raped her on, the Rolls Royce driver sounded like a chieftain gorilla mating while the rest of the group watched... "HUHH HUHUU HUHUUU HUHUUHUHUHUHUHUUU HUUU HUUHUHUHUHUHUUhh!"

Daniel watched on, his cock painfully hard and hopelessly unreachable, as his hands were handcuffed behind him, while he watched whatever he could see through the circle of men.

The rapist's hairy buttocks gave a sense of gross improbability to his violent encounter with Elizabeth---there was just no way a polished woman like Elizabeth would have normally considered spending any kind of time near such a common man, but now... Now she emitted the most pitiful wails and cries as she felt his monstrously large cock inside her!

"Please! Please! Stop this! Have mercy I beg you! Noo... Let me whip you off with my mouth, please... I'm good a cigar smoker! Please no-aaaa aaaa aaaaaaaaaaaa...."

It felt to her as if her pussy was about to get ripped apart! She got brutally abused inside her well-seeded pussy. And amid her wails, she prayed for him to not also try her asshole, and cursed her beloved car amid her wails...

"Aaah aaah nnaaoo noo aaaah... I should have got a... a faster car... AAAH AAAAAH AAAAAAA NAAAOOO NOAA! ..."

"HUHH HUHUU HUHU HUHUUHUHUHUHUHUUU hhUUHUHUHUHUHUUhh! Hhnnngghh-- ... NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN NNNNNNN NNNNNNNNNNNNNNHH..."

Elizabeth hated his gorilla grunts! She had heard his supreme ecstasy after feeling the tell-tale twitching inside her. She got flooded with his Rolls Royce pudding oil. She felt radiating pain at her waist; he held her way too hard there!

One last big spurt of his seed spewed out of his monster cock and landed smack on the perfection of her curves. And the Negro spread it as the panting, sweating driver made way for him. The cook africanized Elizabeth's buttocks with his strong hands! He kneaded them like a chef kneading dough to make white loaves of bread.

"White bread for Milady! And then, some brown blood milk pudding!"

Elizabeth screamed in terror as she saw him!

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA NOO! But... but I'm I'm a good girl! You you promised! You p-promised!" Elizabeth stammered, writhing and wriggling in their collective grip, but they held her bent over, most firmly, with her bottom to be touched and polluted by the Negro. His hands felt like red-hot iron on her skin! She shrieked with her broken voice! This was the worst of the worst!

"I'm sorry, Milady. I could have used your boyfriend here, but I'm a bit bored with him and I love to shag a white lady, especially one as arresting as you are! So Miss, you thought you could trick Abdoul, did you? Well, for your information, next time you want to play hide and seek, drive a different car! Your white Bugatti was a can't-miss advertisement as to your whereabouts. And now, now Milady. NOW!"

As he spoke, the cook had dropped his uniform trousers and produced one thick eight-inch islamizer! He drove it straight inside Elizabeth and she screamed in pain as the brutal pounding began. Doggystyle! Using her like an animal! His hands on the sore crease of her hips, Abdoul began to groan and grunt as he gleefully bounced her white buttocks against him! Elizabeth closed her eyes and tried to defy this reality; tried to make this un-happen! But the Negro's cock was all too painfully inside her.

"Allah Akhbar! Allah Akhbar! Allah Akhbar!" the Senegalese Muslim kept repeating as he enjoyed the rape more with each one of his heavy strokes, sweating like an islam-forbidden pig under his Navy cap as he enjoyed every fibre of the Scottish Catholic lass!

"Say a prayer, Scottish girl! So you thought you could fool Abdoul? Allah Akhbar! Allah Akhbar! ... Allah Akhbar! Allah Akhbar! Oohh, I love your pussy, Milady! I'm going to make a brown baby inside you! Aaahhr! Allah Akhbar! Allah Akhbar! Aahh, you're going to have a beast of a big load! Allah Akhbar! Allah Akhbar! Allah Akhbar! Allah Akhbar!"

Daniel and all men present watched Elizabeth suffer as she got savagely islamized and blacked. This thick cock of Abdoul's was a fascinating thing to see against her butt, like a big slab of blood milk pudding inside her distended slit! Where Senegal became one with Scotland.

***

Two more men had arrived and had organically joined the circle of onlookers, boosting their number to nine. Elizabeth didn't notice, busy as she was being raped and suffering, but she somehow remembered to keep her noises down so she wouldn't attract supernumerary admirers. She didn't realize it was already to late.

"Hello, Spalding!" the hunter said to one of the newcomers, another hunter. Spalding was perhaps sixty years old and quite overweight with extra helpings of beer and sausages.

"Hi, Mr. Brookes! Caught some unusual game, I see," said the second newcomer to the taller hunter while nodding at his red-haired son, Robert, who kept watching Elizabeth being mounted by the Negro, whose grunts echoed wide and far against the venerable trees.

"Yes, unusual, but capitally delightful! Try her out for yourself, Mr. Watson!" the hunter told the man, who wore the green uniform of a gamekeeper. This man was about mid-forties, athletic, wearing a wool soft cap and smoking a pipe as he watched the surprising rape.

"Why do you let a Negro touch her! This is disgusting!" the gamekeeper said, holding the sling of his rifle on his right shoulder.

"It may be," said Mr. Spalding, "but I will most definitely partake! No way I'll pass this opportunity!" And as he spoke, the sixty-something chubby man produced his hardening erection and began to masturbate.

Just then, the Negro looked up to the sky and let out one beast of a scream... "ALLAH AKH-BAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRHHHHHH!" He screamed at heavens as the raging bolts of hot seed left him to colonize Elizabeth, whom he pushed away from him and let fall on the damp grass as he got finished.

He then went to crouch down next to her sobbing face and used her hair to wipe his used cock.

"Thank you, Milady! You made one Negro meet Allah today. Be proud!"

"I've seen enough! Get this Negro away from here!" the gamekeeper barked as he pointed his rifle at the bunch of men.

"Oh, we were already going, Sir!" the Skipper said, giving the gamekeeper a fake smile as he faced the newcomers.

"We were indeed! We must not keep the King waiting!" the Jaguar driver chimed in as he saw both hunters with the lad, now all pointing their shotguns at their foes, in addition to the gamekeeper's rifle, as the group of men organically divided itself in two opposing camps. The local men vs. the outsiders.

Elizabeth was the booty in the middle of it.

Daniel wasn't even noticed; he even peed himself in his smoking since nobody bothered to allow him a decency break. So there he was in the middle of the woods, clad in his out-of-place smoking and smelling like piss. At least, Abdoul didn't rape him again.

"Be off!" the gamekeeper barked at the seven opposing men, who had only a couple of Browning pistols between them; and the outsiders slowly and reluctantly began moving back to their cars while quickly gathering and putting their clothes and hats back on, with the hunters and the gamekeeper keeping their rifle and shotguns trained at them. As the Germans found out for themselves, your everyday Englishman is not to be trifled with.

Ere long, the Jaguar and the Rolls Royce were off, and Daniel was incommoding the occupiers of the Rolls Royce--the Negro in the backseat, with his window soon wide open, the Skipper and the driver--with his smell of piss. But he had to be taken forthwith to Buckingham Palace as per orders of his Majesty King George VI. And indeed, they were already quite late!

***

Elizabeth was left alone and naked with the three hunters and the lad. She looked at the lad with hope in her eyes. Perhaps this was the end of her ordeal...

But the lad rushed at her! He easily forced her down on the ground, then laid himself down on top of the naked woman and began to suck her breasts in total frenzy! Elizabeth ran her fingers through his red hair as she bitterly sobbed. She was ruined! But she still was unable to resist the lad's attentions.

"Robert Brookes! Don't touch her before we have her washed! A Negro just used her!" the gamekeeper said.

"Oh it's all right, Mr. Watson. Let the boy have his play! As for me, I confess I can hardly wait to take another relief inside the lass, Negro or no Negro!"

"Have you gone out of your mind, Mr. Brookes? This Negro could make us all sick!" the gamekeeper replied as the two other hunters nodded in approval, although they watched closely as the lad nestled himself between Elizabeth's legs and presently grunted as he found the mark with a heartfelt shove from his novice cock.

Elizabeth moaned like a lost soul and wrapped herself around him as the lad began to pound her, grunting against her face as she hugged him and crossed ankles atop him. She convinced herself that she needed a proper white cock to un-black herself and make herself white again. What she would never admit was the fact she secretly liked getting raped by this young bloke. She just couldn't help it! Elizabeth loved lads! The younger, the better!

Soon enough, she was filling the place with her sick moaning as she frantically hugged him inside her legs, keeping him a prisoner as she clutched her ankles on top of his white butt, and the lad kept pounding her like a true piston, all of him filling her nostrils with his musk... and she came!

"AAAAAAAAAAAA AAAAAAAAAA HH NNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

She screamed "No!" in a hopeless attempt to convince herself she was being raped and shouldn't be such a tramp, that she must NOT be enjoying this, but her body had turned into a female volcano and all her scream "No!" achieved was making her hornier and causing her to hit another climax, even stronger than the first one!

Elizabeth screamed amid her ocean of horror! Her scream positively filled the place, disturbing many a squirrel in their autumn food-collecting duties as it sailed and echoed among the oaks and ashes and lindens. All men present were transfixed by the scene.

The freckle-faced lad had screamed along with Elizabeth and nearly passed out out of sheer delight upon erupting with a huge load inside her!

All three hunters were right upon her. One after the other, starting with the gamekeeper himself, they raped Elizabeth. They no longer cared that a Negro had been inside her just before. They were far too randy! They had to shag her. They just had to.

For the remainder of the day, it was a never-dreamed-of feast of shags and cock explosions for the three hunters and the lad. Elizabeth's face got even prettier with a pungent coat of glistening semen adorning those high cheekbones of hers! The thin hunter had found out for himself that she indeed was a wonderful cigar smoker! He nearly lost his deerstalker cap as he splattered her face upon pulling out of her mouth.

All of it became a confused mess in Elizabeth's exhausted mind. Three older men were using her, one of them fat and short and positively ugly; the two others decent, but hopelessly old. She endured them, even got aroused from knowing that the lad was watching and touching her while one of those old local men was inside her.

At one point, she was on top of the lad and looking away from him. The boy held her waist and kept cow-girling her on him while she was taking his dignified-looking father inside her mouth. Elizabeth would always remember the softness of his fifty-something cock against her tongue while her pussy was in use by the vigorous lad's erection, which always returned to full strength within an hour!

Elizabeth took the lad's country sludge inside her while the father pulled out of her and sprayed a generous load all over her face! She closed her eyes and let the thick rain of shame heat and sticky her pretty face, knowing she was pleasing the father of such a handsome boy. What a tramp she was!

By late afternoon, the country gentlemen were indeed commenting about her being a well-trained harlot.

Now that the grass was dry, the gamekeeper placed her on all fours and greatly enjoyed the deed when he mounted her. He got hypnotized by her loaves of baby-soft skin as he pounded her, sounding like a happy king among men, wishing this would go on for ever, but eventually losing the battle in an explosion of glee that left him kneeling on wobbly legs, his hands on those snow-white buttocks. He ended up kissing and licking them!

Elizabeth would also remember the horror she felt when that odious fat man, old as the world and as ugly as dirt, took a prolonged tour of her body while the sun was setting. Thankfully, she was shivering from the cold and the gamekeeper and the lad's father were considerable enough to tell their friend that she needed to be taken to somewhere indoors. She was also positively starving, especially after retching out of sheer disgust from feeling that fat man's touch on her and from the smell and taste of his cock and his balls, which he had commanded her to lick. So gross!

"My old shack will do perfectly!" the gamekeeper said, referring to the loghouse of a deceased brother. The shack had been empty and in disuse for more than two years.

"Capital idea, Mr. Watson!" the father said. "Robert! Go back home and fetch things for us to eat for two days and nights. Use the horse! Tell your mother we found some prodigious bounty of game and will stay hunting for two more days. Tell her this, and no more!"

"Let me help you back inside your clothes, young lady! Forgive us for what we just did, but you're just too beautiful! But I'm sure you'll love your stay in this part of the country. We're perhaps a bit faddy, but deep down, we're kind-hearted!" said Mr. Spalding, the short fat mat himself.

That same Mr. Spalding would help to thoroughly wash Elizabeth in that shack, inside a warm tub that did her much good. Before they fed her with corned beef. Later that night, Mr. Spalding would have her straddle his chest and he would eat her pussy until she climaxed, and she would squirt on his face, while giving fellatio to that freckled red-haired boy, whose semen she drank to the very last drop, finding the taste both horrible and exquisite.

Next morning, Elizabeth would wake up naked, but warm. Warm from being sandwiched between the gamekeeper and Mr. Brookes, both of whom were just as naked as her. They would command her to get on her knees and show them how good she was to smoke a morning cigar.

With unfathomable contentment, the gamekeeper would splatter the perfection of her tits! Then Mr. Brookes, finding his deerstalker cap and putting it on, would let Elizabeth smoke his morning glory, before pulling out and copiously painting her lovely face with country cream, absolutely fascinated by the delicate bridge of her nose as she closed her eyes under the rain of gooey warmth.

Then Elizabeth would show her beauty for all of them to see, as she would dance like a harem trollop on Robert's lap, keeping her hands on his, and trying not to smile as she would quickly reach her girl's jackpot, unintended, with the lad's gaze constantly caressing the sensitive tip of her swollen tits!

The shack would nearly tremble as the lad would erupt massively inside her. Then it would be a gross session of morning-glory shagging, as she'd lie down in the arms of Mr. Spalding, and she'd be stuck under his ugliness, and then, after he'd nearly killed her with his final groan, she'd be forced to endure his balding head under her face and the sickening feeling of his hands and mouths on her tits. And this was just the early start of her new day in her new role. No lines to learn for the young actress; nothing to do except being the tramp for three Englishmen and an 18-year-old lad.

In exchange for her to be a good, obedient lass, Elizabeth had them promise not to explore her butt-hole. And as they were true gentlemen, they kept their word. They were perhaps a bit rustic and faddy, but deep down, they were kind-hearted, and the lad was positively enamoured with the glamorous tramp.

Life in the English country could be surprising. And fun. Mixed with never-spoken-of horrors and not without a touch of grotesque.

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

CHAPTER 23 --- Going Up In The World

Daniel was now 2nd Lieutenant Lévesque in His Majesty's Canadian Army, with an officer's commission signed by the King himself.

He was presently having an incredibly delightful breakfast in one of London's top hotels, where he was staying all expenses paid. As he ate his eggs and his back bacon, he kept looking at his shoulder straps, just to make sure he wasn't dreaming and the one diamond showing his rank was still there, making him a true Jackass of the one-diamond clad in a British-khaki uniform, with a clean and crisp jacket that made him look as glamorous as one from the middle-class will ever be.

He was eating alone, drinking fresh coffee that tasted like a dream one from the middle-class had to drink to believe. There were people in that hotel restaurant, most of them wearing expensive dresses or suits, young men wearing fedoras, old men with homburg hats, women and maidens in all sorts of stylish hats, usually round and quite pretty. A few of the men were also officers, but much older and higher in rank. Seeing a Major with his Tudor Crown on his shoulder strap was as common as seeing a lawyer near a courthouse. Daniel realized he was nothing special there, and he needed to stop pretending.

Nadia was nowhere to be seen. She was his supposed wife, and yet he had no idea as to her whereabouts, and to put it bluntly, he couldn't care less. Only a select few King's men knew where she was and what she was doing---or forced to do. All Daniel cared about now was enjoying his stay in London, now in royal style, and then by all means going back home. To Zabel.

Twice he had sent a telegram overseas. One for his family to make them know he was all-right and soon to be back home, and he even added extra words to say he was missing his three young sisters. The second telegram was for Zabel. He was anxiously waiting for her answer. He was told at the post office, by a smiling young lady whose eyes lingered on him, that he would most probably need to wait two more days.

"Lucky girl..." he heard the young woman say with a sigh as he walked out the door. If only she knew how undeserving of Zabel he truly was!

Daniel was mesmerized by the change in his fortunes.

One day he had been a kneeling prisoner in handcuffs and forced to watch the gang-rape of his companion while wearing a dirty smoking, the next he had seen the King himself! And then, the day after that, he learned he would be made an officer! The 50-size jacket had already been picked for him, and the peak-cap, measured against his good old fedora hat. The Skipper had been kindly ordered to give Daniel back all his goods, including his now-battered jacket that still had some white sand from that Channel island in its pockets.

All this because His Majesty George VI was an avid fan of weightlifting! His Majesty was indeed impatiently waiting for the Olympic Games to be held in London in less than two years.

On the day he met the King, Daniel was wearing a freshly washed and sharp and crisp smoking. He wasn't shown in the ballroom where that reception had been held. In fact, it wasn't in Buckingham Palace. He was walking the hallways of the Royal Lodge of Windsor, whereto he had been taken by the same Rolls Royce, by that very same driver he had met under not-so-savory circumstances, such circumstances where he had learned that this distinguished driver wearing a rust-red suit had a most hairy bottom.

He was shown in by red-coated sentries wearing those tall bearskin hats. He reverently walked along echoing, history-loaded hallways, where every little thing had rich memories, and he looked all around him in absolute awe and fascination! It was like being a male version of Cinderella.

"This way, Sir, please," the soldier said, wearing three white chevrons saying he was a Sergeant. Being called "Sir" by a Sergeant?! Cinderella indeed! Daniel was walked into a warm, wooden-furnished room, where everything that met his eyes was a testimony of British good taste. He felt proud of his country.

The King was sitting at his office, studying an open book. Daniel politely waited, feeling positively out of place.

He stood in a private study, with a chimney fire quietly burning, and shelves upon shelves of books where Daniel noticed English, French and Latin. Pictures of a younger George dressed in white pants, a white shirt and brandishing a tennis racket, wooden of course.

"Ah, you're l-looking at my tennis exploits at W-wimbledon!" said the King with a slight stutter as he stood from his papers-and-books-laden desk. His voice was calm, with a use of command through it. He was Daniel's sovereign.

"Yes, Your Majesty! When was this?"

"Call me George or Sir, please do, young man. This was in 1926, when I was still a dashing young man, well, almost! This was also the year when my dear daughter Elizabeth was born, on April 21st. She's actually on her way here, along with Sir Winston Churchill, my former Prime Minister. They're curious to see and shake hands with one of the w-world's top weightl-lifters..."

The King was about fifty, and still had his brown hair, flawlessly styled with the separation line at his left temple with no whiskers, as was the custom for young men, and clean-shaven too. This hairstyle left his wide forehead plain and accentuated the power in his eyes. He looked handsome and dignified, an effect that wasn't in the least diminished by the dark-forest green suit he was wearing with a beige necktie that looked almost fiery against his double-breasted jacket with a matching handkerchief in his left chest pocket. The King looked like a peaceful civilian, but with a dignified aura such as Daniel had never seen. The face was somewhat familiar to him as his portrait adorned all coins in Canada, but seeing him in person was life-altering.

Then the massive oak door opened and the red-coat sentries both stood at attention as a stout, bald man walked in, with a large cigar in his mouth, along with an attractive dark-haired girl about 20 years of age wearing a simple dress with a two-row pearl necklace with simple ivory-white day-gloves.

"Your Royal Highness!" Daniel said as he went down on one knee. "You must be Princess Elizabeth!"

The young Princess looked down on him with steel in her eyes. She was smiling, but there was fierceness in that smile; something in her teeth that gave Daniel the impression she perhaps could eat raw flesh. She was looking right through him. Daniel felt naked in his smoking, in front of her, as he was told to rise again and did so.

"Oh, young Sir," the King said, "there's no n-need to be so c-ceremonial here! N-now that you've called my daughter Your Royal Highness once, y-you can just call her Ma'am, to rhyme with jam!"

The King made the introductions. Daniel felt Elizabeth could see right through him, that she now knew the terrible things he did to women. He blushed and looked down like a beaten dog. She was indeed distant and it seemed she was loathing him. Smugly, Daniel decided not to be bothered, for she wasn't all that attractive to him after all. He lied to himself on that count, out of pride, but Princess Elizabeth was a good deal less attractive than the Scottish actress he had very briefly romanced. There was some style in her wavy hair, a definite air of splendour in her figure, but her face had nothing special for a girl her age, when one first looked at her, but there was strength and firmness in her features!

The more Daniel looked at her, the more he felt fascinated, although her eyes of sapphire told her plainly, "Keep your distance from me, you scoundrel!"

The King asked questions about the recently competed World Championships in Paris, and seemed quite impressed when he learned that the world champion, USA's John Davis, had pressed 300 pounds above his head!

"Oh, John Davis has pressed as much as 330 in '42, before he was drafted to serve in the Pacific. And you should have seen the way he cleaned this barbell up to his upper chest, Sir! He made it look as light as a broomstick! It looked effortless, Sir! Positively effortless!"

"He's a Negro, this John Davis, isn't he?" Sir Churchill said while taking his last puff from his finished cigar.

"He is indeed. Born in Brooklyn, New York, back in 1921. And he served with honour in the Pacific, same as I served in Europe myself, Sir."

As he spoke, Daniel noticed a shift in Elizabeth's eyes. Something subtle had changed in her as she heard the word "Negro". There was a faint blush on her face and other subtle signs that Daniel, being a veteran lover and rapist, readily understood. The young Princess was feeling aroused, and it was the notion of a Negro that had triggered this.

"I was once in New York, a long time ago," Churchill replied. "Back when I was about your age and a young Army officer!" the former Prime Minister added. Daniel was in awe as he heard the extreme charisma in his voice. He felt that if Churchill gave him an order, he'd comply right away. He had never sensed such all-encompassing authority in a man, not even in the generals he had seen and heard from afar during his time as a private.

The conversation went on. About America. Then back to sports, to tennis and Wimbledon, then weightlifting. Daniel spoke about John Davis again and observed Elizabeth, and sure enough, the slight blush came back on her cheeks. She looked down at some books on her father's desk, pretending to be interested in them, while wearing a faint smile.

"Is she day-dreaming about a Negro? Could she be fantasizing about some big brown brute who would bend her over that desk and give her something to remember?" Daniel wondered in his mind.

He tried to make small talk with the young Princess, but she ignored him. She was as cold a fish to him as he had ever seen. Even colder than Nadia when he last saw her. It was clear that Princess Elizabeth utterly disliked him. But the next day, Daniel's commission was signed by his Majesty and he put on his new Army suit while a telegram was sent to Dominion of Canada's High Command to make his rank official and pen his name in a regiment based in Montreal as a reservist 2nd Lieutenant.

***

Now wearing his uniform and finishing his breakfast in a lavish hotel, Daniel thought back of this fascinating meeting with the King, his elder daughter and Sir Winston Churchill. The King had given him some money and offered him to come back to Windsor for another visit, another chat about weightlifting. He had also referred to him a weightlifting club where he could get into training again.

"Enjoy yourself in London, young man! You've gone through so many hardships in my service. Take two weeks of leisure!" the King had said. "I'll even call a farewell reception for you! And then you'll fly home to your family!"

Such were the generous King's words. How could he say no? Truth was, he was very eager to fly back to his fiancée, and he no longer cared about Nadia, the "wife" who had been forced on him. But he also immensely enjoyed the glamour that came with walking around in his new officer's uniform. The smug lad in him was beaming under that brown visor of his peak-cap! Khaki didn't only mean mud and the enemy shooting at you, it could also mean glamour. Just as it could mean nurses being gang-raped and his own innocence lost forever between the legs of a wailing German girl.

The rapes he had undergone aboard the Flower of Whitby always lingered in the back of his mind, an ever-present memory that cast a shadow of fear in his eyes. The spectre of pain was still present right where he sat, more as a ghastly reminder that such an ordeal could still happen again. Daniel saw the cook everywhere. He had even eaten in fear of his very food, as if that cook were lurking in the hotel's kitchen. And he dared not go to the lifting club, out of fear he might run into him. So much fear under this uniform he wore with such smugness!

Then, as he drank his coffee, Daniel read the newspaper. Two articles on pages 2 and 3 drew his attention. The first was about Blanche...

"Sir Allen Godalming, Mayor of Whitby, is now offering a reward of 20,000 pounds to whoever would bring Blanche his beloved daughter back to him. All flags in Whitby are in mourning for Whitby's prettiest girl. But her father still clings to the hope she did not perish at sea, although the news of her late husband's demise has now reached us."

What if... What if that lighthouse keeper had actually hidden Blanche and kept her for himself? The obvious possibility suddenly crossed Daniel's mind and he felt as stupid as a four-year-old child! Blanche was alive. He felt it in his gut. The reward was a large one! What if he went himself to fetch Blanche? The old keeper would be no match for him, a young experienced war veteran! But then, Daniel remembered Blanche's threats.

"My father will have you killed!" she had repeatedly said as he was raping her on the sand, by the campfire.

Daniel decided she was best left alone on that island. He felt wise and idealistic as he decided to forego such a high sum of money and enjoy what he did have... An officer's commission, the fact he was turning 22 in two weeks, yes, only 22, with the realization he was about to start his life anew on a clean slate. Zabel and his newfound peace of mind were priceless.

Yes, Zabel! A dark-haired girl with dreamy eyes of shadow who loved him. Zabel... Her pretty face! The wonderful grilled-marshmallow evening they had shared on that lakeside beach at Sainte-Agathe last summer... And he was going to marry her! And he had forgotten her birthday in all the excitement! She had blown her candles on the 1st of November, already two weeks ago! He was going to send her another telegram this very day, before paying a visit to the Big Ben and the Tower of London and those beef-eater guards carrying halberds in their Tudor-era uniforms.

Then Daniel read the second article. It was about Elizabeth and her Bugatti mishap...

"Elizabeth Sellars, the well-known stage actress in London, was rescued by local men from an unfortunate predicament where she apparently had lost her way and hit some trees, with damages to her white Bugatti. Fortunately for her, she was found and rescued by honest gentlemen, one Mr. Brookes and his son, and one Mr. Watson the local gamekeeper in that countryside somewhere between Bedford and Northampton. What could have happened to her had she been met with scoundrels is to be left to everyone's imagination. Miss Sellars' family in Scotland were so relieved after not having heard from her in days that they sent a 50-pound reward to each of her brave rescuers.

"This story ended well, but let this be a cautionary tale for any foolish girl thinking about adventure and fun and glamour. Taking the road and driving out in the country can be very dangerous! Too dangerous for an honest girl. Ladies, your place is at home near the stove, with your family or with your husband.

"As for Miss Sellars, she was most devastated by the damage on her sports car, but some mechanics offered to repair the Bugatti free of charge, out of the goodness of their chivalric hearts, and as I write these lines, they are working on the beauty and her glamorous curves. Making her new and white again."

Daniel smiled as he read those lines. English irony! English humour! Priceless. But poor Elizabeth! Really a pity...

TO BE CONTINUED.

[HistBuff]

CHAPTER 24 --- Being Social In London

Daniel enjoyed his morning at the hotel so much that he ordered apple strudel with another coffee, as he decided to keep the newspaper, for in it was a picture of the missing girl, Blanche. He was going to cut that picture off and use it to masturbate so he wasn't going to be led into temptation by some London beauty. His heart belonged to Zabel; he was her fiancé.

At a table near his, two girls kept eyeing the uniformed officer he was. He kept hearing them giggle between themselves. He took a look at those girls. The older one looked about fifteen. She was pretty, not tall with long chestnut hair. They were having breakfast with their well-clad, obviously well-off parents, and kept giggling while constantly keeping this handsome young man in the corner of their eye.

"Mary! Olive! What did I tell you! Please, behave like ladies!" their mother said, her own eyes drifting to Daniel and she turned out unable to hold back an amused smile as she sized up the dashing lad. She was maybe a bit less than forty, and positively attractive with dark blonde hair, and strong eyebrows that made Daniel think her carpet probably didn't match her drapes. There was something magnetic in her face.

Two five-year-old boys presently ran between his table and theirs. An irate mother was heard... "Mark! Henry! Get back here! At once!"

Daniel ran the social gauntlet of directly looking at the wife's breast shapes through her daytime dress, an elegant piece of clothing that suggested a sensual landscape under a deep rose fabric, with many close-together buttons and a stylish high collar that led his eyes to a fair face with classically beautiful features, and his eyes met hers while her husband had sunk back in the reading of his newspaper.

The wife smiled at him and much to Daniel's surprise, she didn't seem bothered by the fact he was clearly appraising her bosom. She even subtly licked her lips while shifting her torso in such a way Daniel could see the curves of her bosom in a three-quarter profile. And she kept smiling at him while her daughters ate their bacon.

"Twenty thousand pounds of reward!" the husband ejaculated. "This mayor of Whitby must love his daughter very dearly!"

"Yes, but she's hopelessly lost at sea. If she was alive, she would have been rescued by this time," his wife replied, her eyes never leaving Daniel. Daniel suddenly realized he only had to tell her his room number and she would most probably come.

"Yes, she's dead! And she isn't even pretty!" Olive spat out. "Look at my own hair! I'm the pretty one!" the thirteen-year-old girl added, smiling with her ill-aligned teeth and making her elder sister chuckle.

"Mary! Don't make fun of me! I'm the pretty one! Yes I am!"

"In your... Well, little sister, yes you are!" Mary said, avoiding the brewing confrontation by telling Olive what she wanted to hear.

"Yes, she's dead!" Olive repeated.

"Perhaps she isn't!" Mary countered. "Perhaps some lonely fisherman, or perhaps some old and lonely lighthouse keeper has found her and kept her with him! Now that's romance!"

"Mary Higgins! Behave!" her mother scolded her.

"No, she's dead!" Olive doggedly repeated.

"No, she's alive!" Mary replied, smiling on the verge of laughter, her eyes returning to Daniel, who felt flattered to be looked at by so pretty a girl.

"She perished I say!"

"She's been turned into a beautiful mermaid... and she's topless!"

"Mary! That is enough!!" the mother thundered.

"Hey, cut it out and let me read my newspaper!" the father bellowed, his tone final and indeed, both girls fell silent and returned to their half-eaten breakfast.

Daniel couldn't keep himself from laughing. Those girls, they were so funny! He looked away and tried to hide his laughter, but the movements of his shoulders betrayed his state.

"Sir! Are you making fun of me?" Mary said loud for Daniel to hear.

"Mary! Let the gentleman be!"

Daniel looked at Mary. She was standing now and staring at him from her short frame that looked a bit shy of five feet. Mary looked even funnier with her irate expression.

"I'm very sorry, young lady. Ha! Ha! Ha! It's just... It's just I haven't laughed so good for a long time... Did you ever read Bram Stoker's Dracula? Well, somewhere into the story, Professor Van Helsing bursts out in laughter most unexpectedly, and do you know what he told Johnathan Harker?"

"No, Sir. I confess I haven't read that book."

"You're an honest girl, very modest too, and this is good. (Mary blushed as Daniel said this.) Well, Van Helsing said that Laughter was a King, and King Laughter doesn't knock on the door and asks permission to come in. He shows up and says, 'Here I am!' And here he is indeed! So you see, Miss, I wasn't making fun of you in the least. What kind of man would laugh at a young lady as honest as you are?"

"Where are you from, young man?" the mother asked. "No offense, but there's a clear French accent in your voice. How come a Frenchman is a British officer?!"

"Sir, do you think I'm pretty?" the younger daughter said, out of the blue.

"Olive!"

"But what, mother? This is a matter for a gentleman to judge!"

Daniel could hardly hold his laughter. She was so funny!

"Well, Ma'am, the answer is very simple. I'm Canadian, from Montreal."

"So you speak French! Wow!" Mary said, gazing at him almost as if he were a god. Daniel blushed.

"So you fought in the war, young man," the father said, raising his head from the reading of his newspaper.

"I did indeed, as a Private, Sir. I landed on Juno beach and fought all the way to Germany."

"Promoted from the ranks! You must have done something very brave!" the man said.

"Well, it's a long story... I... I've just been promoted, by the King himself. He's such a nice man. I've already met him twice in Windsor."

"Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Now Sir you are joking!" Mary said.

"Well yes, maybe I am, Miss!" Daniel replied, winking at the girl. She was so spirited!

"Did you kill many Germans?"

"Olive! How many times did I tell you not to say such dreadful things! And there's a German couple right over there. Hopefully they don't understand English too well."

As he spoke, Mr. Higgins nodded at a table where a man in his forties kept speaking German with a beautiful girl, clearly not older than 18 or 20, with her blonde hair styled in short braids. "She must be his daughter," Daniel thought.

The German was well-built and wearing a grey suit. His hairstyle had something foreign in it, although Daniel couldn't pin-point what it was, but the man's thinning light brown hair was everything German.

That man presently turned himself to the English bourgeois family and rose from his seat, smiling.

"Well, I may hafe a bit of an akzent, but I do fersht... I mean ich... I understand, ya!"

Olive sunk as far under the table as she would go, as terrified as if the man were an ogre out to eat her alive! Like in those scary tales she sometimes wrote herself when bored at school. Mary sat back and pressed herself close to her mother, fearing the German was angry and was going to beat up her father.

But the German was all smiles.

"Ya, ya. Many friends of me, kaputt, dead, tot! Ya genau. Krieg! War... Fery fery sad! Sad for all! Nobody winz!"

"Very true, my friend, very very true! I'm Henry Higgins", said the father, rising from his seat and respectfully shaking hands with the German. "I was a Group Captain in the Royal Air Force, but early in the war, I was a Squadron Leader, piloting a Hurricane."

"Yavohl! Maybe we met in himmel! Met with no knowing! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Me, pilot of Messerschmitt! Me-hundert neun! Horridoo! Me lucky still alive to be! And always wanted London to see... Ich, Heinrich Bartells, I war Leutnant. This, mein Frau, Heidi!"

The pretty blonde girl had risen from her seat and made a German curtsey. She made a slight bow with bending of the knees. As she did so, the English husband looked at her cleavage and the shape of her bosom, and his cock grew larger as he rightly concluded that this German was indeed a lucky bastard.

"She's his wife?!" Daniel thought. "He robbed the cradle for sure! But wouldn't I have done the same if I had been in his shoes?"

"Nice meeting you," the English wife said, coldly as she noticed where her husband's gaze was. Both her daughters were back to eyeing Daniel.

What ensued was a friendly chat where both former enemies were sincerely glad to know more about each other. The shockingly young wife stood there, silent, rendered deaf and mute by her complete ignorance of English while both men traded wartime stories. The English wife and her daughters just couldn't take their eyes off Daniel, who blushed from so much female attention! The German wife was eying him as well, and he developed a hard-on under his table from picturing a nice hard fuck with her.

"She must be gorgeous naked! And those braids! Perfect handles to hold her when she's giving me her mouth and smoking the cigar!" Daniel thought, his new vow of faithfulness to Zabel reduced to an afterthought of wishful thinking, yet again.

Eventually, the English couple took a polite leave, not without the man giving his calling card to both the German and Daniel. He owned a house in Piccadilly. Daniel kissed the wife's hand and noticed the lingering in her hand as his closed lips landed on the back of the small gloved hand. Mary and Olive, her face blushing crimson, walked to him as they too wanted their hand kissed. Both girls giggled like crazy little clowns after the formal leave was taken via a slight kiss from Daniel on their white-gloved hand.

Then Daniel sat back to his apple strudel and his gone-cold coffee, which was still very good to drink, especially after Daniel had added sugar and cream to it.

***

"Kinder! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" the German former airman said as he nodded at Mary and Olive as they left reluctantly, while putting on their stylish little lady's hats, and always looking back at Daniel, who waved his hand at them and both girls giggled.

"Yes, they make this world colourful and worth living in," Daniel replied as he took a bite of strudel. "Fluffy! Very very good! Did you try those strudels, Sir?"

"May we join you, yung Herr?"

"By all means! Take a seat. There are three chairs and only two of you!" Daniel replied, waving at the empty chairs. "I am Second Lieutenant Daniel Lévesque!" he added, his voice thick with smug pride.

"Yavohl! Wir, offiziers same Dienstgrad, I mean same rank! But me, civilian now, ya," Heinrich said as both men shook hands.

The young wife sat close to Daniel, not exaggeratedly, but still close enough for him to get whiffs of her floral perfume. She kept smiling at him, fidgeting with her braids and looking as German as a girl on a German postcard, with her golden hair adorned with three or four edelweiss flowers that accentuated her air of youth and innocence. She was like a fresh breeze from the Alps.

"I see you like mein wife. Gut! Gut! We, wanted to talk to you since three days ago! And we endlich had the meuglich... the occasion it to do. Sorry for small Englisch!"

"I speak a bit of German," Daniel said in thickly accented German. "And for your wife, this will be better!"

"Absolutely!" the husband replied, in German, all smiles and with relief.

"I think you're very handsome, Herr!" the young wife said, her voice like flowers of honey in a mountain wind. "I keep talking about you, and Heinrich... Nun gut! I'll let him explain things to you!"

She was so fascinating! Her face was perfectly soft and flawlessly pure in her features. Heidi had the mysterious, quiet beauty of a maiden fetching water at a source. Timeless youth without need for any make-up. Heidi's simple perfection was reflected in her simple country dress, quietly plaid with myriads of tiny little squares of a tranquill blue against as many off-white squares, with a belt showcasing her slim waist and her maiden's curves. She kept looking at him with eyes of youth that caught the room's daylight and translated it in a serene ice blue.

Daniel listened to her husband as he began to say he wanted... he and his wife wanted to ask him a big favour. It was very delicate, and he said it was just as well they spoke about it in German, since it was something quite outré and scandalous.

Daniel, his eyes always drifting back to Heidi, who kept smiling at him, listened on, his curiosity sparked and whetted.

"Heidi always had a fantasy. I mean a sexual fantasy. About being forcibly taken by a man in front of me, especially by a man wearing an Allied uniform. At first, when I married her six years ago, and by the way we're actually Austrians, but we've been Germans since the Anschluss. So, early in our marriage, she kept those fantasies quiet under the rug, but when 1945 came and she turned 19, enemy soldiers entered Germany. We lived in Heidelberg at the time.

"And then, US soldiers came and occupied the city. And Heidi heard screams in the streets during the night. She told me later, since I wasn't home at the time. She heard about some of her neighbours getting raped or otherwise molested by drunk GIs. She got lucky and nothing serious happened to her, other than groping on the street and such trifles. She told me this later.

"Eventually, one night when we were having furious sex in another wasted attempt at conceiving a child, she told me her secret. She had secretly wanted me to come back home and see her being raped by some enemy soldier. She was so afraid when she told me! She was trembling! But I would never raise my hand on my sweet Heidi! Hearing her speak about this made me harder inside her, and I asked her to tell me more, more details about what she wanted this enemy to do with her in front of me, and the more she spoke while dancing on top of me, the harder I got! And I ended up screaming and flooding her with an American truckload of sperm!"

Heidi spoke, her innocent-sounding voice contrasting with her words...

"In a nutshell, my young Herr, we would love it if you took us upstairs to your room and, you know, take my clothes off and have me in front of my husband, after tying him up of course. We have the rope. You can even slap me if you want. And please, call me a Nazi tramp! I know I will melt in your arms, getting called that and used like a whore in front of Heinrich!"

Daniel experienced a truly painful erection as he heard her words. He didn't understand all of her German, but he got her drift. He looked at her, then down at the perky landscape in display beneath her country dress. He nodded and finished his cold coffee.

***

In the elevator, it all felt awkward. Even the elevator boy felt it. But once inside Daniel's room, the husband broke the ice.

"This uniform on you, grossartig! Grossartig, mein yung Herr! Ausgezeichnet! Now let's begin the role-play! It is very simple. You just broke into our home and spotted Heidi. Just pretend that you're armed! Here, I have an empty pistol!"

Heinrich gave Daniel an authentic Browning pistol.

"It's empty! Harmless!" the German said.

Daniel slid the pistol out of sheer habit, checking and... a bullet popped out! He had removed the magazine, but he had forgotten the chambered bullet!"

"Gott und Himmel!" Heinrich exclaimed as he realized his terrible mistake.

"Well, no harm done! This is why one must always check the chamber!" Daniel said, switching to English. "And even though it's now empty, I'm still putting the safety pin on... right there!"

"Here, the rope! Please, tie up my husband and rape me! Bitte, vergewaltigen Sie mich! (Please, rape me, Sir!) In front of him!" Heidi said in rapid German and heat in her words, each word punching more arousal in her blushed cheeks. She wanted this so much! Her willingness to be raped was raping the concept of rape itself.

Heinrich let himself get seated on a leather chair, where Daniel frantically tied his hands together behind his back, forcing him to sit on the edge of the chair. Then he used the second rope for his ankles. He couldn't wait to get his hands on Heidi!

At last, he turned to Heidi and began calling her a cheap Nazi tart! In English. She pretended to try to run from him, and as he ran after her around the room, he grew a gigantic erection under his uniform! Now, this was fun!

"Komm her! Schlampe! Nazi Hure! Du kannst mir nicht entgingen!" Daniel yelled at her as she ran on, albeit not too fast.

She yelled, "Nein!" and moaned when he caught up with her! Grabbing her by the hair, he forced her to come back to the double bed, right in front of her "tied up" husband!

"Nein! Nein! Bitte! Ich bin verheiratet!" she begged. (No! ... Please! I'm married!)

"Jawohl! Ja!" her husband grunted as he watched.

"I don't care that you're married! Tramp! For all I care, you could be Snow White and I would still fuck you deep to your bones! Fuck you so deep that you'll get buried all the way to China! Now get down on your knees and smoke the cigar! You need some Allied ammo!"

Daniel roughly forced her down to her knees, pulling her hair so she had to comply. Then he pushed the barrel of his pistol against her closed mouth.

"Open your mouth, tramp! Mund offen!"

Heidi opened her girly mouth and the next second, she had the entire barrel against her tongue and her palate! And she began to suck the British pistol!

"Now, that's better! Come on, Nazi Hure! Suck! Suck! Lutsch! Spit-polish my gun! Yes!"

Keeping his hold on her hair, Daniel imposed a rhythm to her bobbing head, back and forth the length of the sleek barrel, as the Austrian wife sucked on. He loved the innocence in her face against the harsh realities of war. Fun was written all over her eyes! She was indeed having Spaß!

"Ja ja ja! Ja! Sehr gut! Grossartig!" the husband let out.

"Shut up, you German pig!" Daniel hollered as he laid the pistol down and unzipped his khaki trousers. He felt weird as he freed his granite-hard cock and felt the electricity of Heidi's gaze on it. More fun was written in her saucer eyes.

"Now, German girl! Now I'm going to rape your sauerkraut-eating mouth! Open your mouth! Mund! Offen! Kraut girl!"

Kneeling in her virginal beauty, still fully clothed, Heidi began to unbutton herself as she opened her mouth.

"Stop! Halt! I never told you to undress! You do as I say! Mache was ich sage! Mund offen!!!"

Then he slapped Heidi, but not too hard. She was so pretty! He wasn't going to hurt her for real. Heidi began to sob, tears flowing down her eyes. She was acting so well!

As soon as the kneeling Fräulein opened her mouth, Daniel felt absolute elation as he sank his cock inside her mouth, tight and wet! He grabbed her braids and used them for leverage as he began to rape her face! He loved this! Her quiet water-source beauty! Now smoking the cigar and filling the room with sucking sounds as Daniel got as hard as a rutting buck. With her husband there and watching!

"Ja! Ja! JA ja... Grossartig! Wunderschön!"

"Shut up, wiener muncher! Shut up and watch Britain raping your cute little edelweiss!" Daniel bellowed, so much aroused that it felt like the lone diamonds of his rank on his shoulder straps were on the verge of catching fire.

Something evil stirred inside Daniel as he enjoyed Heidi's mouth. He began to regret not having done this when he had the chance to do it in Germany or even in Belgium. This was so much fun! Even as a role-play! An evil voice within him told him it would be incredibly more fun if he did it for real.

"Now! Let's rape her! Rape! Rape! Rape! My cock deep to the hilt inside her! Aaaaahhrrrr! Now I'm living the true life!" Daniel uttered as he pulled out of Heidi's mouth and began to slap her pretty face with his spit-polished cock, enjoying the sickening sound of each blow smacking her tears-wet cheeks as he kept holding her hair, giving her no choice but to endure the slug-fest of cock slaps!

"Let's make this little Nazi face English! HArrhhh! Now, Fräulein! Now girl! Your man can't do no-nothing to help you! You're going to take all my ammo!"

"Ja! Ja! Sehr gut!!!"

"But first, let's see what this Nazi tramp looks like in her Eve outfit!"

As he spoke, Daniel lifted Heidi off the floor, and she moaned loudly as he did so. He tossed her on the wide bed, and the petite girl looked a little lost on the wide brown blanket.

Daniel got on that bed, on top of her, where she flailed her arms at him and he made fun of her resistance, grabbing her wrists, slapping her twice and ordering her to keep quiet or else he'd shoot her husband through the head!

"Ruhig! Ruhig oder ich erschoss dein Mann!"

Heidi quieted down, tears welling in her eyes, and then Daniel pressed her tits through her plaid dress and pressed his lips against her, imprisoning her under his massive frame as she tried to protest, but his forced kissing silenced her into submission.

Then he raised himself, grabbed the front of her dress and ripped it apart! The deafening sound of tearing fabric filled the room! He pushed the ruins of her clothes aside and uncovered a sky-blue bra, a German-made BH! And her skin! Pale with that magic tinge of gold only seen on true blondes!

He ripped that bra off and Heidi protested, perhaps for real, perhaps Daniel was going too far, but he had turned into a beast!

"Haaaahrrrr!" he uttered as he discovered the daylight landscape of her Heidi's breasts, looking perky and sensually flattened as she lay under him, her eyes wet with tears, and her nipples so pale that her areolas were barely visible on her honey-pale skin.

He engulfed one of Heidi's breasts in his mouth and circled her nipple with his tongue, cupping the other one and feeling that delicate nipple of a stranger against the palm of his hand! She tasted so... so German girl!

"Jaaahhrr! Jaahhrr! Sehr gut! Sehr sehr gut!" Heinrich cried from his chair while Daniel violated Heidi's breasts.

Then, with fury, Daniel peeled her dress off her and pulled it down, baring her abdomen, then cursing as he realized he had forgotten to undo her belt. Once this was done, he slipped the dress under her legs, past her knees as she writhed and protested, "Nein! Nein!" with both her legs folded and close together, "Nein! Nein!" and Daniel got mad with lust as he watched the lines of her bare legs and the debauchery of blonde-girl skin! "Nein! Nein!"

Leaving her dress bunched down where it impeded her ankles, he grabbed and ripped off her sky-blue panties! "Nein! Nein!"

Heidi moaned like a tramp just as Daniel learned that her bush of pussy hair absolutely matched the gold of her hair and her eyebrows! A true Austrian blonde! Sweeter than beer! All her hair as gold as wheat! What a fun harvest!

He rolled her around until she was flat on her stomach, where he gleefully began to cover her peachy-full buttocks with kisses, licking them! Feeling the fury of his lust as he sank his face into that baby-soft skin where she normally sat! He licked! Licked and licked! Mad with lust! Nostrils filled with her suave scent! His hands full with her flesh! "Nein! Nein!" she cried.

"Well, German! You're a lucky bastard to have such a young wife! How long were you married to this angel? Aren't you ashamed, a man your age, to rob the cradle like this! Now it's time to see this wife of yours raped!"

"Now you, Hure!" Daniel added. "Auf Knien und Elbogen! Auf Knien und Elbogen! Verstehe?"

Heidi obediently positioned herself on all fours, giving the full show of her butt for Daniel to get even hornier with!

And with a strange monkey-whooping sound, Daniel rammed his Canadian branch inside Heidi! He felt and loved every tight fibre of her vagina! She was perhaps even tighter than Blanche Godalming!

Uttering primal grunts, Daniel held Heidi's hips and pounded her! Revelling in her plaintive-sounding whimpers! The room echoed with Daniel's grunts. He went all-out!

She went into a lingering symphony of high-pitched moans and eventually, she shivered under his hands while he kept shock-waving her buttocks in his barrage of buck strokes!

She was climaxing!

"aaaah aaaa--aaaaaaaaa aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa Ic'bin eine Hure! Eine Schlampe! Das bin ich, ja!"

"Jawohl! Jawohl! Sehr sehr sehr gut!" the husband hollered, his voice altered by his sex craze.

Daniel kept pounding Heidi. It was nothing but brutal bliss! He loved the baby softness of her butt curves, loved her shy butt crack, loved those wide curves against her slim waist, which he was now holding fast as he reached and passed his edge!

Heidi's butt! Her braids! Her!

Quickly, Daniel grabbed Heidi's golden braids and used them as reins, pulling her hair and forcing her to keep her head up like a good Santa Claus reindeer! Just in time for his explosion! He screamed!
"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHRR NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHGGGGGGHH YYAAHHH!!!"

All through his primal scream, the raging bolts of sperm shot deep inside Heidi, hot and steaming! Wild and immoral.

Daniel remained there, panting, kneeling behind Heidi, one hand on the paradise of her butt, his forehead bathing in sweat pearls as he realized what just happened. This was so much fun! Heidi's strong vaginal scent took his nostrils by storm.

But then Heinrich was on him!

He had freed himself from his loose bounds, and he presently pushed Daniel out of the way. Daniel was nearly tossed off the bed! Heinrich was so strong in his frenzy!

Daniel looked on and witnessed the most brutal marital fuck! Heinrich now knelt behind Heidi. He was already inside her! He grabbed her waist and began to pound her! Raping her! Punishing the whimpering tramp! It was so brutal! Heidi was moaning and whimpering like a banshee! No doubt, the entire hotel storey was hearing everything!

"Hure! Hure! Hure! Billig Hure!" Heinrich kept calling her a cheap tart. He pounded her with anger and almost hatred, and she entered into another fit of extreme high-pitched whimpers. She came! Now letting her face rest on the bed, her hair in disarray as her baby-soft face slid from her husband's fury. With her elbows sunk into the mattress and her buttocks high and always soft under his hands. Heinrich kept giving tremors to her flesh, in urgently repeated collisions as he panted and grunted and kept calling her a cheap tramp.

Heinrich got suddenly hit by a wild convulsion and he stooped down on his wife, pressing her tits from behind as he pressed his sweaty body against her, like a dog hitting a climax inside a bitch! The sweat bathing his face was almost smoky.

"AA... AAAYYYAAAHHHHHHHHHH AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHRRR! Du darfst nicht Fremden ficken!" (... You must not fuck foreigners!)

Daniel could tell Heidi was getting a jumbo-massive load!

***

For a few minutes, the trio lay together in bed. The naked girl between both clothed men. But Heidi wanted more.

She began playing with herself, then she turned to Daniel, covered his face with kisses and began to undo his uniform's brass buttons. He let her do this, actually he loved this. Once his chest was bare, she covered it with hot kisses. Her touch on him started to make the young man horny again. Daniel ran his fingers through her hair as she took her kissing adoration further down.

Before long, Heidi was kissing his cock, massaging it with her hands and bringing it to some new life, ahead of a new adventure. Heinrich was now getting up and he swiftly stripped himself naked, his eyes never leaving his wife.

With her slobbering and hand pressure helping, Daniel's cock became half-hard and she took him inside her mouth, her ice-blue eyes locked into his gaze as she gave him the hot fellatio. Her face as sweet and innocent as ever, with the proverbial seal of her mouth around his hardening tomahawk.

"German tramp, I'm going to Canadianize you!" Daniel said, taking hold of her head and imparting a more vigorous rhythm to her mouth job.

"You're going to drink my maple syrup and drink it to the last drop, Nazi tramp!" he added, now positively fucking her face and once again, he took her braids and used them as handles to make her his sex slave! Her mouth felt like a dream! She was an Austrian edelweiss indeed!

Daniel felt Heinrich's gaze on her as she kept working his full length, her braids always firmly held and pulled so she had to take his entire length inside her mouth. Daniel was moaning, his cock pulsating while he thought about Mrs. Higgins and the milk jugs he saw beneath her fashionable rose dress. Fucking a nearly 40-year-old wife would be fun!

"Aahh! Aaaah aaaah! Yes! Yes! Good German girl! Ooh, you dirty little tramp!" Daniel uttered and repeated more of the same as Heidi kept operating her mouth magic!

"Aaahh! She sure can smoke the cigar... Aaahh yes! Yes! It's coming!"

As he spoke, Daniel was frantically using her braids to shag her face with depth and speed! He sank into a primal state of absolute glee and began grunting and whooping like a baboon.

The eruption was a nuclear bomb!

"AAAAHR NNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNHH!!!"

Daniel pulled her braids, forcing Heidi's face to press his groin as his raging bolts of ammo erupted inside her mouth.

Both he and Heinrich heard Heidi's gurgling and slurping sounds as she drank all of it to avoid suffocating. Tears were flowing down her eyes from the sheer strain.

Daniel finally released her braids and Heidi was finally free and left his cock while he half-closed his eyes and enjoyed his post-climax, feeling as if he were levitating off the bed.

He saw Heidi move to her naked husband. Heinrich had been masturbating. His solid size was now half erect. His naked wife amorously took hold of it as she knelt at his feet.

She presently took her husband inside her mouth and began the fellatio. Daniel watched the head-bobbing action and let his eyes take a tour of Heidi's kneeling nakedness, loving every graceful inch of her.

Heidi indeed looked like a country girl who came to a source to haul water, found herself all alone and decided to take all her garments off to take a swim. Daniel felt unworthy of such grace and beauty as he realized that Zabel must look equally graceful and young and erotic in the nude.

"Aaach! Achh! Du Schlampe!" Heinrich bellowed, and he kept saying while gently stroking Heidi's hair while she smoked his cigar. The husband was now grunting more actively. And after a few more minutes of German-girl sucking, Heidi was made an icing queen as Heinrich pulled out and proceeded to splatter her face with his ammo! Daniel saw the hot gloss on her and marvelled at the grace of her features.

"Du darfst nicht Fremden ficken! Aaach aaah! Du darfst nicht Fremden ficken!" he uttered in rapid-fire German as he peppered Heidi's angel face with his ammo, like a chef putting icing on a cup cake. Heidi's mouth was wide open and she caught a full dollop of the harvest.

The husband then knelt down next to his wife. He nudged her into lying down on the floor and gave her a full-blown session of tit-sucking. Heidi moaned as she received his love.

Seeing the free playing space down her legs, Daniel came near the couple and went down on the floor, where he treated himself to the priceless pleasure of touching and caressing her feet and ankles, before heating them with kisses and slobber. He was missing Zabel so much! He couldn't wait to be back in Montreal and do this foot loving with her again.

Once they had put their clothes back on, the Austrian couple invited Daniel to a Swiss restaurant not far from the hotel, where they ate a fondue. Heinrich ordered two bottles of white Pinot from the Rhine.

"Zum Wohl!" Heinrich said, his voice enthusiastic as he offered the toast. "Das war ein sehr guter Fick!" (This was a very good fuck!)

Heidi laughed and cast her head back, offering a neat view on the shapes of her breasts as she did so. Nearly all men present looked, including the coloured waiter. What a fun girl she was!



TO BE CONTINUED.

[Blue]

@HistBuff
In my opinion, this is the best chapter of the long story.

Even if I missed a little something

[HistBuff]

@HistBuff
In my opinion, this is the best chapter of the long story.

Even if I missed a little something

Yes, thanks! I like to have consensual scenes too. This one was roleplay of rape fantasy, so it was still rapey in a way... Consensual rape! In this long story, I want to develop Daniel as a character and show him living life, which does involve sex and dating since he's so young and handsome!