Bound for Camping Fun

Time passed. I know I dozed or just zoned out. I was stirred to consciousness when we felt the RV rock slightly and heard voices. The degenerates had returned.

Seconds later, the little door swung open.

"Whoa!" Rod exclaimed. "It smells like sex in here!" He and Dirk stood over our bed, laughing at us in our predicament. Picture a heavy blonde and a slim brunette, stacked like spoons and strapped tightly together. Both with arms behind them, my forearms crushed into the pussy of my friend. Both tightly gagged, the larger girl's eye's red and tear-stained cheeks.

"Oh, come on Weather Girl," Dirk exclaimed. "Are you having a rough afternoon? You frustrated, pretty girl?" I was humiliated for both of us, naked with turgid tits and soaking panties, unable to move or speak.

They set on us unbuckling the long straps. Freed at last, I slumped face forward onto the bedding, pressing my erect tits into the cool firm mattress beneath me. Above me, the two men consulted. Rod's hand were on my shoulders, pulling me up off the bed. He dragged me backwards out of the tiny bedroom, and I watched the door close.

Rod settled me onto the short sofa and began working at undoing the cursed single sleeve binding my arms behind me. I glanced out the window, seeing restaurant patrons walking past our tinted picture window. I felt a thrill of shame, sitting just a few yards away from respectable people, posed in my thin panties, pointing bare nipples, and wrapped face and mouth.

The voices on the other side of that bedroom door painted an even more base picture. I hear the clap of skin on flesh, a squeal turned guttural. The trailer began to rock ever so slightly. Rod and I exchanged glances as he stored the single sleeve in a drawer. We were both aware of what was now transpiring on that bed.

I shook my face at him, eyes pleading to be ungagged. Instead he picked at the knot holding my knees together. In a moment my legs slumped outward, and I became even more aware of my sodden state. He carefully ran a blade of safety scissors along my hairline, snipping away the tape gag. With careful hands he pulled away the tape, then gently tugged the foul panties from my mouth.

"Please," I started. I took a breath. "Please, something to drink?" I was able to sip sweet cool water from the plastic bottle he tipped between my swollen lips. My wrists were still bound securely taped behind my back.

"Are you ok?", Rod asked me

I hesitated, not sure what to say. I shocked myself with my next words:

"Fuck me."

His eyes widened at my request.

"Fuck me, please, I am so horny."

His face lit up in a broad smile. To emphasize my need, I shook my torso at him, my breasts jiggling. Once he had his roughened hands on my boobs, fingering my tits, I swooned gratefully.

I looked at his crotch and saw no excitement: where was the erection I craved? He dipped into another of the RVs compartments and came up with an obscenely curved sex toy. He waved it in my face, then shoved it downward into the waistband of his pants. "Warming it up," he murmured, continuing to mold and manhandle my breasts.

I was arranged on the bench across from the booth, laying on my own arms while his fingers probed my nether lips and watering pussy. With the other hand, he pawed at my neglected breasts, pinching my swollen nips between his thick fingers. Surprising to me, he started to talk, proving a vulgar soundtrack to his physical ministrations:

"A finger in your pussy, princess? You feel wet and ready? I think you like it helpless, pressed up against that weather girl. You like your hands behind you? These heavy tits on display? Look how much these titties stand up. You like a little tug on them?" He put action to his words, aggressively pulling at my swollen nipples. I had no words, I could only gasp and squeeze my eyes tight.

His hand left my vagina for a moment, and then I felt the wide head of the warmed sex toy at my opening. With maddening slowness, he worked in the fat head, then as slowly, he withdrew it. I slithered down the bench, trying to capture the fake dick, to keep it in me instead of being deprived. My movement was punished by his pulling harder at my nipples, drawing me up on the bench.

My head whipped side-to-side in a non-verbal 'no' as I tried to anticipate his actions. The pressure on my nipples lessened and instead he was groping my full breasts, kneading and rolling them like a baker prepping rolls. Now he was piston-ing the dildo/vibrator in and out of me, and I spread my legs as wide as I could on the narrow surface. The toy was streaked with wetness, and I was aware of my own heady scent. How had it happened so quickly, how had I gone from kidnapped and defiant camper, to naked victim, inflamed and pleading for sex?

Rod knelt next to my bench, kneading my breasts and plugging me with the wet rubber toy. I felt the beginnings of my own orgasm building. Should I tell him? Should I say nothing for fear he would stop and take it away? And then the climax, the rush in my groin, the thrill running through my entire shaking desperate body. Having been deprived for so long, I came over and over, my own juices spewing from me, oozing onto the bench.

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I dressed in what I had: shorts, T-shirt, flannel shirt and my trainers. I sipped hot coffee while Rod worked lotion into my ankles, loosening the gummy tape residue from around my legs.

The bedroom door opened, and my gal Taffy and Dirk emerged, eyes downward, somewhat sheepishly. After their heated sex, it seemed both had fallen asleep for about an hour.

"Hey," I said to Taffy.

"Hey," she said to her pal Candy.

And we giggled. Our husbands, too, smiled and chuckled a little. We had planned our role play game for some weeks. We all loved a little play acting, and we're excited for the chance to have a scene that lasted more than a few hours.

My man, Rod (not his real name), is normally the gentlest of souls, and I had to beseech him to try the wild side. Our experimentation at home had led us to seek friends with similar interests.

Dirk and Taffy (c'mon, really?) enjoyed the lifestyle. They were more adventuresome and experienced than we. And they each liked it a little rougher and more aggressive than I really cared for. She confided that she didn't mind the slaps and tugs, that it actually got her more excited. She was a beautiful woman who indeed had been a TV weather personality when the two met, though that life was behind her now.

She poured a mug for herself, thanking us for obviously cleaning the front section of the RV. The scent of lemon disinfectant was pleasant, and we all agreed we should open the door to air out the place. They were a camping couple, they loved the lifestyle of different campgrounds a few weekends each summer.

"We'll go back to where we left your car, plug in, and have some nice steaks tonight. And we can see where it goes after that?" Dirk offered.

My husband and I nodded happily. After dinner I would insist that we head home to our own big bed, clean sheets, and a hot shower. But for now, this former victim and potential sex slave had a satisfied pussy, sore tits, and a hungry belly.

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