There hadn't been a single good fucking since she'd come up to the lake. She'd been raped several times but Paul had never fucked her lovingly. More and more she came to like the idea of fucking only other women – or dominating men and forcing them to do her bidding.
This was totally out of her experience. Paul took command and kept it. The harder she tried to escape from him, the more he punished her. He dominated her completely. She hated him for it – and it made her cunt all gooey with lust.
"Hmmmm," he said, puffing the hot dog from her pussy, "looks like it'll be another few minutes before it's hot enough to eat. I like the idea of all your cunt-juices on the wiener, though. Gives it added flavor, don't you know?"
He began stroking the hot dog back and forth in her pussy as if it were a prick. She didn't want to respond to the motion. But she did. Her breathing came harder and faster. She felt her heart pumping blood to her tits. Her tits were expanding and felt as if they might pop at any second.
"You dig this, don't you? It figures. You probably masturbate all the time. That's the way cock-teasers get their kicks, isn't it?"
"Why are you doing this to me? What have I ever done to you to deserve such treatment." She licked her lips and wished her hands weren't bound behind her back. The motion of the masturbating hot dog in her pussy wasn't quite right. A little faster and she might be able to get off on it.
"You've done everything to me. It's what you stand for that bugs the hell out of me. I just want to strike out for male rights. That's something all you pushy cunts have forgotten, isn't it?"
She caught her breath as he moved his hands toward her pussy-lips. The hot dog actually brushed against her clit and sent electric thrills throughout her belly. She even felt her cunt contract and try to grip the piece of meat.
Never in her life had she been so degraded. And she was doing most of it to herself! She actually responded sexually to a hot dog being thrust in and out of her pussy. She began to cry in frustration.
"There, there, my dear," he said. "You mustn't cry. It's so unbecoming to a lady. Here, have something to eat."
He pulled the hot dog from her pussy with a wet, lewd smacking noise and then thrust it against her lips. For a moment, she turned away and tried to avoid it. The wooden stocks prevented her from getting far enough away to do any good. The man continued to poke it into her lips until finally she couldn't avoid it any more.
She opened her mouth and bit off the end of the hot dog. The woman felt a surge of revulsion at what she was doing. The hot dog was drenched with her own fuck-fluids. The man had raped her with a hot dog and was now forcing her to eat the vile thing!
"Good, isn't it? I figured you might like it." He pulled the hot dog from her mouth and licked it. She could see her cunt-oils on his tongue. With a big show of delight, he gobbled the entire hot dog, then licked his lips.
"You're lower than a snake's belly!" she screamed. "I hate you more than words can tell!"
"Really? We'll have to do something about that. Like, hmmmm, let's see if we can't change your mind by exciting you a little more."
She shrieked as he thrust something impossibly thick and cold into her cunt. The woman wasn't able to turn around and see what he was doing; she didn't have to. She could feel each and every movement he made behind her.
Tensing her pussy-muscles, she discovered that he had rammed a cucumber up her cunt. The bumpy sides tickled and tormented her cunt walls. What really gave her pain, though, was the thickness of the cucumber. It was bigger around than any man's cock. And the son of a bitch using it on her began to twist it inside her tightly-clinging cunt.
"Aiieeee! It hurrrrts!" she complained. The lances of agony rammed through her and brought tears to her eyes. But she held back the real flood of tears she wanted to release. It wouldn't do to let him know he had succeeded in besting her at anything.
But the pain!
The twisting motion pulled her pussy-walls in new and different directions. No man's prick would be this punishing. Her tender inner-membrane was pulled out of shape. She knew that she would be ripped apart inside.
Just as she thought that she would pass out, he stopped. The pain died away and then returned when the man started fucking her with the long, green cylinder.
"God, for a chick with such a tight cunt, you sure do expand to take anything rammed up you. But I guess maybe that's the way women are built. After all, how's a baby supposed to get out, otherwise?"
She didn't want to enlighten him on anatomy. She wanted him dead. She wanted him to stop fucking her with the cucumber!
"Hot enough for you? Looks like you're beginning to sweat a little," he said. He stopped fucking her with the long, green vegetable and began stroking her body. But he'd left the cucumber buried full-length up her cunt.
She sobbed openly now, not able to hide her feelings. His hands felt so damned good as they moved across her sensitive skin. She could almost forget the stuffed-up feeling in her cunt when he pinched her nipples and brushed across the slight dome of her belly.
When he touched her clit, she came.
The entire world turned upside down for her and then spun around wildly as her body responded to that caress. When she came down from her sexual high, she discovered he had other ways in mind to torment her.
"Like this?" he asked.
She cried and laughed at the same time. The cucumber remained inside her juicy cunt, making her want to scream in agony. But, now he used a feather across her tits in such a way that she couldn't help but respond. He moved the feather across her tits, between her boobs and ass-cheeks, then lightly along her cunt lips. The feeling started between her legs.
Pain. Pleasure. Pleasure, pain and more. She came again.
The pain angered her, but the pleasure was so damned good. Finally, she stopped trying to figure out which feeling brought her off.
"You do get off on this sort of thing, don't you?" Paul said.
He tormented her with his feather, lightly drawing it across her buttocks and then down the insides of her legs. Her tender flesh rippled and covered with goose-flesh. She wanted to laugh as he applied the feather to the soles of her feet.
She had never understood the connection between her feet and her orgasms. Every time she got off in a big way, her toes curled and her legs tensed. Now, she was taking the reverse route. Her orgasm wasn't starting in her clit and passing down her legs; it started in her toes and worked its way slowly up her legs.
By the time she exploded again in a wild frenzied climax, she knew that she would never be the same again. She had discovered too many hidden facets of her personality to ever go back to being the same Sandy Kramer.
She loved fucking. Not so much with men, but fucking was her top sport. The feel of a cock driving in and out of her pussy turned her on, but the men fucking her seldom did. Now, she found herself responding to Paul in ways she'd never done before. The more he tortured her, the more he humiliated her, the more she loved it.
The woman hated him, but she loved what he did to her. He was dominant. He made sure that she didn't wrap him around her little finger. That was new to her.
Most of all, she liked the feeling of being tied up. She wasn't responsible for anything done to her. He had her completely at his mercy. She could relax and go along with him. Her hands felt like icy clubs due to the lack of circulation in her hands, but she ignored that. The rough wood cutting into her neck hurt the most. Having her legs pinned so widely apart didn't bother her too much.
It gave the man easy access to her cunt.