Free The Sex Slave's Final Punishment (BDSM Erotica) by Aphrodite Hunt Page B

I vanish with the guard around the side of the truck.
The driver is already inside at the wheel.
    The guard grins as he gestures to me to climb
into the passenger’s seat. The seat is high, and I have to clamber
in. I am aware he is looking at my butt. The driver’s eyes burn
holes into me. The guard behind me climbs in as well, and I am
sandwiched in between the two leering men.
    The truck starts up and we are off again.
    It is an extremely uncomfortable trip for me.
I keep my thighs closed. It is a tight fit for three people
upfront. My hands are folded upon my lap. Heat radiates from the
two men on either side of me, and I can hear their very audible
breathing above the roar of the old engine. The window on the
driver’s side is wound down, and a breeze wafts in to lift my
tresses.
    The guard on my right takes a strand of my
hair and twirls it around his finger and thumb. I dare not meet his
eyes. He is the same guard who has inspected me so lasciviously
when I was taking a piss. I know what I will see on his face –
lust, opportunity, cruelty.
    God.
    I keep my eyes trained on the road and
landscape in front of me, not daring to blink. The sun is very
bright, and my eyes water. There are very few people on this road,
but I can see them toiling in the fields a distance away, their
wide-brimmed hats shielding them from the sun. Cows and sheep dot
the countryside. The scent of animals and manure waft in.
    The guard’s hand strays to my lap. He starts
to stroke my thigh – all the way down from my hip to my
kneecap.
    I hold my breath. I’m afraid to release it –
for fear that he would mistake it as desire. I am always ready to
be fucked at the drop of a hat, of course. But right now, I’m antsy
and sitting on thumbtacks and worried and numb – all at the same
time.
    The guard is saying something to the driver,
and from their tone and lewd looks – which I surreptitiously
discern out of the corner of my eye – they are speaking about me.
His stroking continues, as lazily as a cat’s tail, except that his
groping and prodding are getting more restless. His fingers brush
against the shoal of my pubis. He gets more adventurous, dipping
further and kneading my mons and the top of my clit. The driver
laughs.
    I am aroused despite myself, because his
ministrations are very careful and enticing. My clit fills with
blood. I can literally feel the wrinkled skin getting turgid and
warm. He senses this, and accelerates his sly rubbing of my clit. I
squirm in consternation. His other hand steadies my hip.
    A few minutes of this, and he progresses to
the drawstring of my pants. I was expecting this, and so I brace
myself. I put up no resistance as he tugs at the string to loosen
my pants. I’m always afraid of repercussions to Max and Greg if I
disobey. When my pants spills around my hips, he makes me raise my
buttocks to slide them off my legs.
    I am now naked from the waist down. My
peasant blouse is loose-fitting and not very long, but the hem of
it still covers my groin. Naturally, he is not happy with this, and
so he makes me lift my blouse up and tie the two sides of it into a
knot at the middle of my waistline.
    This displays my pubic hair. My legs are
tightly shut.
    The driver says something as he takes his
eyes off the road for a minute to stare at my pussy. The guard
answers back. I wish I could understand their infernal language. It
makes me so frustrated to be subject to their whims and unable to
do anything about it.
    I get an inkling of what they are talking
about as the guard places his hand on my bare thigh. He lifts it
and pulls my right leg onto his clothed lap, so that my pussy is
displayed like an open anemone. The driver takes his hand off the
wheel long enough to do the same to my left leg.
    I am now as open as an invitation card. Where
they want me to be. I am extremely aware of how I must look, with
my red pussy displayed to the windshield – zooming head on like a
bull to the elements beyond. A