Robin Sloane's knees wobbled as she tried to steady herself against the hard stone counter where she had just been forcibly fucked for the second time that night. Her husband, either through gross misunderstanding or willful intent, had brought her to a remote inn where, apparently, wives were traded around against their will. Around four hours earlier a burly man had used a key to enter her room. Once in, he wasted no time in disrobing and raping her on her own bed.
A short time earlier he had finished with her a second time. The only small consolation was that he had allowed her to jerk him to a finish over the john, rather than leaving her with a messy creampie to clean up. Still, her sex was extremely sore and tender. Her inner lips were now vividly red from the extended abuse they had recently suffered.
She dared to look in the mirror. The bathroom light was still on, and so her condition was readily seen. Her hair looked like a fright wig; soaked with sweat, tears, and body oils it would take three washings to be clean again. Her yellow, lace teddy, worn in anticipation of a romantic evening with her husband, was destroyed. Its center was torn in half all the way to her triangularly trimmed bush. Only about an inch and a half of fabric remained to keep it from being completely sundered in two. Her B- sized breasts showed small welts from her rapist's pinches. Likewise her thighs and hips were a patina of various shaped bruises from furniture and clawing hands.
The teddy went first; no sense trying to save it. Robbie pulled what was left of it from her body and tossed it in the trash. She went to leave the room, but stopped and switched off the light first. She peeked out the door and saw that her "husband for the night" was already sound asleep on the bed. She tiptoed over to where her suitcase was laid out and picked through it. She removed a simple cotton nightshirt and a pair of black, nylon, low rise panties. Then she returned to the bathroom with the things clutched in her hands.
The underwear had a nice little lace trim around the waist and leg openings. The shirt was snug fitting and came down to mid thigh. It was heather gray with some sort of flower motif on the front. Robin took a few moments to clean herself up a bit before getting dressed. There wasn't much she could do. She just rinsed her face and dried her hair with a clean towel. She wasn't trying to be beautiful for the man, but she didn't want him angered either.
After doing her best to make herself presentable, Robbie crept back into the room. She dreaded climbing into bed with the man. In some ways it was worse than the sex. At least he hadn't tried to kiss her yet. She steeled herself and crawled in beside him. He was facing the right, or bathroom, side of the bed. She lay down trying to keep some minimal distance between them. But as soon as his unconscious sensed her presence, he reached out in his slumber and spooned her in. Leigh's husband breathed a contended sigh and dreamed of small women. Robin almost vomited.
In room two Francois LeChat was in a similar predicament. That ultra petite milf was tied to a queen sized brass bed by her wrists. Her assailant had removed two drapery ties to bind her hands together and secured her to the head of the bed leaving about twenty inches of cord between the brass and her fingertips. He had placed two pillows under her head and shoulders. She slept soundly upon them.
Franny had gulped the equal of three large glasses of champagne in under five minutes. As the wine was poured into her, some had spilled all over her face and neck and clung stickily to her upper body. Still more had been spilled on her belly as the man who was using her popped the cork.
That cork was now inserted in her bung; left there by the man as a joke. When he first shoved it in her, she was too tired and scared to try to push it out. Before she thought to do so, the wine had its effect and she passed out. Katrin's husband took the opportunity to snoop around the room a bit before joining her on the bed and allowing himself to doze a while.
Back in room seven Robin had managed to fall asleep. It was not a deep restful sleep, but it was enough to make her temporarily forget her situation. Sometime after three A.M. she was awakened by a feeling of something groping at her rear. She groggily admonished the person.
"Baby stop it. It's late."
The fingers continued to probe her ass cleft. The skimpy bikini she wore teasingly left half an inch of ass crack exposed when worn. It was easy to push aside to get at her crack. As the strong, thick digits continued to explore her, she had a terrible realization. She was still at the Society Inn getting repeatedly raped.
"Sorry little lady. It's time to get into your pooper."
"What? No. You can't, you're way too big. You'll kill me. I'll bleed to death. I've never done that before. I won't do it."
The man continued his talk.
"There ain't no won't about it. I don't like it any better n' you. I think it's dirty. But all the fellas agreed that the women's tails would be busted tonight."
She was truly perplexed.
"Wait that's crazy. If you don't want to do it, then why do it?"
"That don't matter. There's rules to this that everybody has to follow."
She was astounded.
"Rules?! You're raping people!"
"Look, even if I don't do it tonight; the guy who gets you tomorrow night is just gonna do it anyway."
Robin has not even thought that far ahead. The idea that this was just the beginning of the experience had not sunk in yet.
"Maybe I won't be here tomorrow." she reasoned.
He knew this was not the case but he didn't argue the point.
"Okay little lady, I'll make ya a deal. If you give me a nice suckle first, I'll just screw your pussy again instead of your asshole."
For Robin, this was a no brainer. A choice between giving a blow job followed by sex versus taking his monster cock in her virgin ass was no choice at all, and she readily agreed. Of course, she did not reckon on the intensity of the sex that was coming.
