Quominga

Imagine this.

You're hiking in the woods. A woman traveling alone in the mountains with nothing but her pack. Up in a pass past the easy reach of civilization. It's getting dark and you still haven't found a good place to set camp for the night. Just as you're beginning to lose hope you hear singing. There's a woman by the side of the trail singing softly as she sits. She looks up at you as you approach.

"Hello," she says. Her voice is warm and inviting. You greet her, tell her your predicament. She nods, smiles, and invites you back to her cabin.

"What's your name?" You ask her.

"Quominga."

Her cabin is small but warm and well furnished. On the way in you pass two statues of snarling bear and imperious heron that seem out of place out here in the middle of the woods. She takes you in and puts your damp things by the fire. She has soup already on the hearth, ready and warm for her return, and there's five times as much as the two of you can eat.

She insists that you take her big queen sized bed for the night, and offers to run your clothes through the wash. You gratefully accept, it's been too long since your clothes were clean. She doesn't have pajamas for you, but it's just women here, you say you can sleep naked.

She bids you goodnight and you soon slip into easy sleep.

You are awoken by hard hairy hands on your thighs, and the stench of bad breath. You scream and the man grunts as he positions your hips with too much strength. You try to fight, but this guy is big. He's big when he thrusts into you too. Your struggling just seems to turn him on more. What is the strength of a woman to that of a man?

You scream Quominga's name again and again until she illuminates the room in light, standing in the doorway.

"I see you found your present Hap," she says smiling fondly. Your mind doesn't process what she's said for a moment. The calm way she said it made it seem like he had unwrapped a gift.

"No, stop! Please stop!"

"Shut up," Quominga's voice is hard as ice now. "My husband can do what he wants with you."

You keep struggling, pleading, begging for mercy, but he likes that. His hands run up and down your body, mauling your breasts, grabbing your hips. He thrusts for his own pleasure, and you find that there are tears in your eyes but he likes that too.

Quominga comes around behind him and begins gently massaging his shoulders. You can see his pleasure in this, as he listens to your drone of "no's" and "stop's" and rapes you, and his wife massages his shoulders with the gentlest tender care.

She brings her hands down to his hips, as if controlling his driving thrusts, looking around her husband and meeting your eyes. There is satisfaction in them, as he groans and unloads inside you. A woman's instincts know somehow where you are in your cycle and how likely this is to get you pregnant. He flops down ontop of you and falls asleep. Quominga sits beside the bed and looks at you.

"Please, let me go." You whimper.

Gone is the kindly woman from earlier. "You'll service my husband until he tires of you - Bitch."

You try and struggle free, but that just wakes him and he gets hard inside you again and begins moving again. Your pussy responds bringing an involuntary moan to your lips you try and ignore.

Quominga coos as her husband picks up the pace and kisses him on the neck. When he unloads inside you for the second time, you've quieted a little, but Quominga has only grown more excited.

"Honey," she murmurs, "it's time to share."

He grunts and pulls his softening monster out of you and gets up. When you try and run he scoops you up, and puts you flailing over his shoulder. You feel the cold wind on your bare butt, the semen sliding down your abused vagina, as he takes you outside and over into another cabin you hadn't seen before. Quominga leads the way and knocks. "Boys, she's all yours."

They are obviously Quominga and Hap's sons. You can see her eyes and the bridge of his nose. They grin as Hap hands you off. He goes back but Quominga lingers, watching her sons fondle you, as you try and keep your legs together, and cover your breasts, but never well enough. Finally the one boy starts rubbing his erection against you from behind, and the other boy forces your legs apart with strength almost equal to his father's, and each one enters you from a different hole, pushing you back and forth between them. You whimper as the pleasure starts building. Even though they thrust for their own benefit, the two of them together is too much stimulation and you can't hold back the orgasm that rocks through your body. They take you two more times after that, until you feel as if this will never end.

But finally they fall asleep and while you're pressed between them, they're tired enough not to notice as you slip out the bottom. You run naked into the night. Your pack and gear forgotten in your desperate need to be away. You stumble through gullies and across stream beds, tripping through thorns and bumping across trees. When dawn's light finally comes you sigh in relief at the warmth and light you know it will bring. You're exhausted, and collapse against a rock in the sun, to sleep a moment before continuing on...

... And it seems only a moment later that you hear the distant baying of dogs and Quominga's familiar voice. "Find her! Get that Bitch! She belongs to you my love!"