*** Disclaimer ***
The following story is a work of fiction. It contains themes of cheating, cuckoldry, humiliation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, NTR and possibly even a little incest. If this isn't the fetish for you, I urge you to reconsider how much time and energy you devote to this.
This is a work of fiction. All characters depicted are at least 18 years of age. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
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CUCKING THE CAPTIVE CAMPERS chapter 04
***
They all slept very little that night-- for obvious reasons. But some time in the early morning hours, the rodeo in the RV had finally ceased, and the camp had fallen mercifully silent, with the exception of Brian's soft muffled whimpering.
It was almost noon before Leanne hopped lightly from the trailer, a new woman. Bradley was already up, rummaging through the cooler.
"You're up before me? Well this is a switch," Leanne teased.
Bradley straightened with a groan and rubbed his throbbing forehead. "Need food." He pinched the bridge of his nose.
Leanne rested her hands on her hips. She was draped in an oversized flannel shirt, that covered her like a short dress. There was nothing else on underneath. Bradley suspected she'd slept naked, and had only thrown this on as a courtesy.
"You're hungover, aren't you?" Leanne appraised him, pulling her hair back. It was especially messy this morning.
"No... no," he groaned, "Not hungover. It just feels like my brain is banging against the inside of my skull over and over again."
"That's a hangover, kid," McDowell's voice from the trailer door. He squinted against the morning sunlight, shirtless, with just his pair of borrowed shorts to cover his hulking frame. "Here, drink this." He handed Bradley another beer.
"Ugh... no more," Bradley groaned.
"It'll take the edge off the headache," McDowell promised.
"But then *this* beer will wear off eventually, too. What am I going to do, just stay a little drunk forever?" Bradley asked.
McDowell shrugged. "Worked for my old man." He turned and appraised Leanne. "That's a good look for you," he inspected the way her loose shirt displayed her long legs and barely hid her ass.
He reached down and lifted the back of the shirt, revealing her firm perky butt, and he gave it a hard squeeze as he pulled her in and ravaged her mouth with his. Leanne melted into him, as giddy as a groupie at a backstage show. She never smacked his hand away, nor pulled away.
Bradley was not only treated to the sight of his mother's bare ass, but the way McDowell so forcefully and unapologetically kissed and groped his mother right in front of him. Bradley felt something stirring within him again, and he had to turn away, lest they notice his growing bulge.
They finally broke the kiss and Leanne let out a long savory moan of satisfaction. "Mmmmm... you fucked me so good last night," she said, without thinking of the ears close by that also heard the remark.
"Can't take all the credit. You played a big part," he grinned. "Speaking of... why don't you go on inside and get dressed. Put on something sexy for me, baby." He gave her a smack on the ass that sent her hurrying playfully for the trailer door. "And wake up sleepy-head, while you're at it. I don't need his happy ass napping all day." He was referring to Brian.
"Yes daddy," Leanne teased, dropping her voice to a sexy tone. With a wink and a giggle, she was gone.
When the trailer door shut, McDowell turned to Bradley. The boy's face was still red and uncertain.
"I trust you heard most of that, last night. So I don't really need to explain much." McDowell said.
Bradley's eyes darted nervously away, and his cheeks only grew redder. "I-I-I'm not really sure what I heard." He stammered.
McDowell's hard scrutinizing face never wavered. "Yeah you are. Don't worry, though kid. I won't hog all the action," he winked with a grin.
Bradley had no clue what that meant. But before he could question it, McDowell glanced into the cooler and began to retrieve some items. "C'mon kid, I'll show you how to make a real breakfast."
***
Brian's eyes were crusty with dried tears. He'd lain awake for the majority of last night, listening to this man have sex with his wife. Leanne had been so loud, so vocal, so utterly dirty, that Brian was absolutely devastated. Not to mention, now that it was morning, he was faced with a new reality-- Bradley had heard it all. Not only had Brian been cucked, but his own son had bore witness to the act of Leanne trading mates without the slightest hint of regret.
Brian's humiliation was beyond anything he'd known.
Leanne uncuffed him without the slightest hint of apology or remorse, before turning a cold shoulder and heading for the bedroom.
Brian stepped from the trailer door with a gut wrenching feeling of defeat, and saw McDowell and Bradley hovered over the fire. Eggs steamed from a pan that they were cooking over the flames... together. Bradley was laughing at something as he male-bonded with this usurper.
Something snapped in Brian, and before he could fully understand why, he took off running at a full sprint. He needed to get away, and if nobody was going to cry for help, then god-dammit, he'd do it. Fuck McDowell's earlier threat. His wife had already betrayed him, and now his son was connecting with a man that he ought to despise.
"Help!" Brian screamed at the top of his lungs. His shaky legs pumped his heavy frame into a full sprint.
He'd never run so hard and fast in his life. And over the sound of his pounding heart, he could hear feet behind him. He risked a glance over his shoulder, in time to see McDowell barreling after him-- crashing through the trees like a charging bull.
The absolute fear added an extra spring to Brian's step. "HELLLLLLLLLPPPPPPP!" He cried desperately, his voice rolling through the empty camp grounds. He ran headlong into the trees, darting around trunks, and hopping over tangles of roots and bushes.
"Get back here, you little shit!" McDowell's snarl was close. Dangerously close. The convict was gaining speed on him quickly.
Brian vaulted a fallen log, screaming mindlessly for help that would never come. His heart was pounding like it never had before. His terror was absolute. If this man caught up to him, pain and brutality was inevitable. This would be his one and only chance to get away. McDowell would never allow him this kind of freedom again.
Brian ducked beneath some low-hanging branches, and burst out onto a forest road that ran up to the latrines.
A second later, McDowell was right behind him. Brian ran along the path, screaming and screaming, but saw nobody.
Brian was not an athlete. He never had been. And his lack of keeping in shape was now catching up with him. He was winded. No amount of breathing could keep up with his racing heart.
To Brian, the chase through the woods had felt like an eternity. But realistically, it might have only been seconds before it came to an end. Immense thick arms threw themselves around Brian's waist, and they toppled to the ground as McDowell tackled him.
Brian wasn't a small man, but McDowell had weight, height, and muscle over him. In seconds, he was pinned. Brian yelled pitifully out one final time. But as McDowell began to hit him, it was all over. His escape attempt had failed.
***
"It's for his own good," McDowell insisted. "If he'd gone for help, we'd all be surrounded by edgy pigs with itchy trigger-fingers."
Leanne and McDowell had spent the last several minutes making the necessary arrangements. Brian-- bruised and bloodied-- had been duct-taped down to a folding camping chair. Leanne had relocated Bradley's sleeping bag and clothes from the tent, into the RV, so that Brian (on his folding chair) could be moved into the tent. The duct tape was firmly back over his mouth, gagging his attempts to scream, and his legs and arms were lashed in place against the chair's framework.
"I don't understand why we don't just keep him in the trailer?" Bradley said, suddenly worried that his mother would turn up one of his crusty socks from last night-- the one he'd climaxed into while listening to her animalistic cries of pleasure and passion.
"Practicality, mah-boy," McDowell drawled. "If he somehow slips his binds, that tent is going to be a lot harder for him to get out of unnoticed by someone. And I want to keep an eye on him. Plus, if the rangers come back, they're probably going to search that," he pointed to the RV, "sooner than they'll search that." He pointed to the tent. "Only way he'll be able to get out of that tent is through the zipper, which faces where we'll be sitting. Plus... I can sort of see him from here."
McDowell pointed to a screen window, just beneath the rain-fly. It was subtle. Nobody would notice Brian inside unless they hunched down to look in. But they could see him looking right back out at them. His face was flushed, scraped up. One eye was swollen shut. And his cheeks were puffing out with each breath. Bradley looked at his dad apologetically. Brian could see out decently well-- a mercy that they allowed him, considering the way he'd disobeyed McDowell's rules.
"Not to mention, we'll have to take turns taking care of him," Leanne added with a hint of disgust to her voice. "Feeding him, keeping him hydrated, bathroom breaks." She added the last with a frown, as though she was forced to take care of a messy child, instead of her husband.
From inside the tent, Brian grunted angrily from behind his duct-tape, but was lashed so tightly down, that he couldn't even budge in his seat.
"Dad is going to be really mad when this is all over, and you let us go," Bradley admitted.
"Let's not worry about that now, right champ?" McDowell winked, clearly not worried. "We're on vacation. Let's enjoy ourselves."
