*** 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 05
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The awning stretched over the side door to the camper. The rain drummed from the canvas, keeping them dry beneath.
McDowell and Bradley sat side by side in folding chairs, watching the rain turn the campsite into a muddy mess. Inside, Leanne was napping from her exhausting and wild romp with the convict. Brian remained at the kitchen table. He was bordering on catatonic after the brutal humiliation. When they tried to move him, he snapped and shrugged them off in a belligerent huff. He was still bound and gagged, but he no longer wanted their help. He had bore witness to his wife's infidelity once again, and his son jerking off to the whole horrible act. They left him alone.
Bradley stared, completely silent at the weather. He was lost in his own head.
McDowell threw back the last of his beer, let out a hardy belch, and tossed the can away into the trees.
Bradley hardly acknowledged it.
Finally McDowell broke the tension. "Post-nut clarity?"
"Huh?" Bradley blinked dumbly.
"Are you having post-nut clarity?" McDowell repeated the question.
"What's that?"
"It's when you're so caught up in the moment while jerking off or having sex, that you don't care about anything. Then after you bust your nut, you have this sudden feeling like 'oh god, what have I done?' It's like a rush of guilt and disgust." McDowell figured that the kid was probably feeling weird on so many levels for what he'd just jerked off to in the trailer.
Bradley laughed nervously. "I- I didn't know that was such a common thing that people named it."
"Sure it is!" McDowell slapped the boy on the back. "Everyone has that. You're at the bar, you're kind of drunk, you're horny as fuck. You pick up a chick that's maybe a New York six at best. You figure 'she's good enough to fuck, but not good enough to tell anyone about.' You get her home, fuck her brains out, then the second you dump your load you feel this intense 'Oh fuck! What was I thinking? I need to get the fuck out of here!' And it's your own fault, because you haven't been laid in a few months, and you just needed it."
"Yeah, that hasn't been much of a problem for me," Bradley admitted.
McDowell blinked, as though a thought just occurred to him. "Wait... are you a virgin?"
Bradley let out an embarrassed laugh but nodded his head. "Yeah. Is that weird that I'm 18 and still a virgin?"
"Nah, kid," McDowell scratched his bullet shaped head after a moment. "Well maybe, I don't know how kids are these days. You got a girlfriend?"
Bradley shook his head.
"Too bad. If you'd have brought one, I would have gotten you laid," McDowell smacked him lightly on the shoulder. Then his eyes narrowed for a moment, deep in thought.
The moment went on just a little too long, and it made Bradley uneasy.
"What?" He asked finally.
McDowell grinned. It was an amused, evil grin. He was entertaining himself with an idea that he refused to say out loud. He merely turned to Bradley, still grinning that grin, and said "Just trust me."
***
Leanne emerged from the trailer, running a towel through her hair. She'd needed a shower after the late morning sex. But she took one look at the weather-- the apocalyptic rain was still falling-- and she scowled.
"Well this sucks," she observed. The campsite was inundated, the fire was out, and any gear that hadn't been under a tarp or roof was soaked.
Bradley and McDowell peered over their shoulders at Leanne. She'd put her bikini back on, but hadn't bothered with the shorts. It was certainly warm and humid enough. The leopard print clung to her, displaying her tight little body, her firm breasts, and the smoothness of her shaved mound. Just strings, and skin. It was practically a thong. Bradley gave her a prolonged glance. It was weird, but Leanne didn't really mind. Not after everything they'd allowed him to watch.
"Want to join us?" McDowell asked, pulling up a seat beneath the canvas awning where they sat to watch the storm.
"I guess I may as well," she plopped down, and crossed her long sensual legs. She blew out a sigh. "I'm sorry that this really isn't much fun." She was actually apologizing to the man who'd kidnapped them. It seemed so long ago. So much had happened that made him seem like less than a monster and more like something else...
"Really?" McDowell grinned and rested his big hand on Leanne's leg. He started to rub. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like we've found plenty to do so far."
She blushed and laughed. "Well yeah. I just meant like... it would have been nice to go for a hike, or go swimming, or something."
"You can still get wet," McDowell said with a grin. He reached over and pulled Leanne into his arms playfully, before carrying her from beneath the awning.
"Don't you dare," she insisted, kicking her feet half heartedly. "I just showered, I don't need to get dirty again!" She insisted.
But it was too late. She and McDowell were soaked in seconds. Her mane of wild hair plastered to her head, framing her.