He relaxed, but the woman couldn't. She felt his prick enter and leave her cunt. Each time he penetrated her, she thought he would split her apart.
Her tits bounced wildly from the motion of the rocker arm pump, but – it was in her pussy that all the hot and heavy action was going down. She was totally filled with cock one second and then empty the next.
She didn't understand what happened, but she came hard. She shuddered and cried out, but nothing helped. The machine kept mindlessly shoving his prick into her seething cunt. She felt the friction burning her up inside and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Then came the hot rush of his jism. He filled her to overflowing and that helped to lubricate her pussy. But the pump arm kept flinging her up and pulling her down with the same motion. She had never felt more frustrated in her life. She wanted to fuck faster, five times faster, ten times faster! And the machine kept the pace constant.
As his prick moved out of her cunt, the man said, "Enough of this. I've got to go tend to some stuff in the cabin. Don't go away, now, will you?"
He laughed stopped and walked off leaving her bouncing up and down on the arm of the water pump. She felt her muscles and joints ache worse than before. Sandy hated him with all her soul at that moment. Anything that she could do to punish Paul, she would.
But being tied up and left outside on the arm of a pump didn't give her much chance to accomplish revenge. She rocked up and down, sobbing softly to herself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She didn't know exactly how long Paul let her stay on the arm of the pump. For once in her life, she prayed for no wind at all. She was sick and dizzy from the motion. The more she struggled against the ropes tying her to the arm of the pump, the tighter the knots became. Paul was obviously expert at tying people up.
Around noon, if she guessed right by the position of the sun, Paul returned and looked her over. The sight of her naked body on the arm of the pump excited him. She could see the bulge at the crotch of his pants grow as he stood, staring at her.
The sight of her was delectable. The woman's tits moved in small circles as she rocked up and down on the pump arm. Her legs separated nicely to reveal the inky blackness of her push. Pink cunt-lips yawned wide just under the downward-pointing tip of her triangular pussy-mound. He knew how luscious that cunt was; he had fucked it enough limes to want more of its tightness around his prick.
"Me you ready to go inside?" he asked.
"Yes," she cried out, hardly able to speak without banging her teeth together in a loud clack. The jerking motion of the pump arm made her afraid she might bite her tongue off if she tried calling him all the names she had thought up.
"Okay. You've got to promise not try and escape like you've done before. Otherwise, I'll have to severely discipline you. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
She would have agreed to anything to get free of the moving arm. It made her entire body ache, but most of all, her pussy hurt like hell. Not since she'd lost her cherry had she felt this sore. She could hardly bear any more of this torture.
He freed her and she collapsed to the ground, panting like a dog. She stayed on hands and knees for a moment, then saw her chance. A discarded axe handle was partially hidden under the pump rig. She gripped it and swung with all her might. She would have killed Paul if the tip of the axe handle hadn't been deflected by part of the steel rig holding the pump.
As it was, she gave him enough of a blow to knock him out. She dropped the axe handle and ran for the house. She wanted clothing and she wanted keys to the car and she wanted to get the fuck away from this place.
Sandy stopped dead in her tracks when she entered the cabin. Changes had been made in the once-tasteful decor. In the center of the room stood a pair of wooden stocks like the Puritans used to use on their criminals. A space was cut in the wood for a head and on either side were smaller holes for the victim's hands. Below was a complex contraption which obviously held the ankles, but could be adjusted to hold the legs apart at different distances. Whoever ended up in the stocks could be stood there with feet close together or spread painfully wide apart.
She had no doubt that she was intended to occupy these stocks and that Paul would spread her legs wide using the contraption. He could fuck her from behind at his leisure. A shiver passed through her body as she realized how close she'd come to really being his sex slave.
She found her clothes didn't bother with bra or panties and buttoned the rough wool shirt and pulled up the jeans around her tight, tensed ass.
The rough wool massaged her nipples, stimulating them more than she cared to think about. The rough denim fabric pressed into her crotch and rubbed her raw. What stimulation she got out of the shirt was offset by the discomfort of the jeans pressing along her cunt-lips.
She searched through the man's possessions until she found his car keys. Grabbing them, she turned and ran from the house. She had no idea if she'd killed Paul – she didn't think so – and if he would be coming after her.
Sandy slipped behind the wheel of the car, thrust the key into the ignition and began grinding the engine. It refused to catch. She pressed the key harder and hoped this would make the engine start. It didn't.
"Missing something?" came the cold voice at her ear. She turned and saw Paul's face only inches away. He held up his hand, displaying a black rod made from plastic. "The rotor," he said, as if that explained things to her.
"What?" she stammered.
"Out of the Goddamned car. Now!" He yanked open the door and she felt herself sail through the air and land painfully on the ground. In a flash, he was behind her, binding her hands with rough hemp cord.
"Don't do this to me! Please!"
"Shut your mouth, slut. I'll do what I want to with you. I warned you about trying to escape and this is going to be it for you!"
She believe him.
He easily picked up her body and carried her into the cabin. He didn't bother untying her hands. They were securely bound behind her back.
In a few more minutes, he had her ankles fastened into the gadget at her feet.
"This is something I put together on my own," he told her in a conversational tone. "I can adjust the width of your stance from tiny to huge." He showed her – painfully.
He moved the device so that her legs were pressed tightly together. Then he pulled her legs far apart. She felt pain arrow into her pussy. The stretched skin of her cunt made her so uncomfortable that she had to call out and beg him to stop. She hated herself instantly when she did.
"Can't take it, huh?" he said. "It's okay for you to bash people on the head with axes but it's not okay for me to punish you for doing it. That's what I love about you Women's Lib types. All the time making with double standards. You can do anything you Goddamned want, but when a man tries to do it, he's a Goddamned fucking male chauvinist pig."
She winced as he spread her legs three feet apart. Suddenly, he thrust his finger all the way up her cunt. She wanted to cry out and moan, but that would only goad him on. She held her tongue.
"I'm getting hungry. I think I'm going to fix lunch. But, you've heard we're in the middle of an energy crisis, so I figure I'll cook this hot dog in a special way." He held up the hot dog for her inspection. She went cold all over when the meaning of the man's words finally sank in.
"You can't do this to me! You wouldn't."
He did.
He shoved the hot dog all the way up into her pussy. She felt the cold wiener rob her of inner-heat. Yet, in spite of the indignity of it all, she felt a bit of excitement. She couldn't explain why she was aroused at having the hot dog shoved all the way up her cunt. It might have been that she had a hollow feeling in her pussy from lack of cock.