“You’re going in the box, little girl,” he said. I glanced around, trying to figure out what he was referring to. I knew they had an extra lock box within the shed for more expensive stuff they liked to keep here– rangefinder, scope, steel targets, their Texas star. I shifted a bit on his shoulders, trying to look at it. Someone had messily dumped out all of the supplies. It was clearly some home-built affair, made out of chicken wire and two by fours. A little bigger than my crate at home, actually. About five feet long, two feet wide and three feet tall. I’d be able to stretch out, almost. Someone had laid down a tarp along the bottom.
“All right boys, I love this girl so we’re going to leave her in her favorite position, hands and knees in that box. Going to tie her in though so she can’t fight too much,” he said.
He walked over to the storage box, his steps sounding heavier carrying all of me. Hands gently on my upper thigh, keeping me in place. Someone on the opposite side of the box helped him lower me in, grabbing me at the elbows so I wouldn’t be dropped from his full height to the floor. I still slammed into the box a little hard on the heels of my hands and my knees. Skittering a little because I was sweating so furiously. It was fear-sweat and it was hot in the shed. I kept seeing things in almost a strobe fashion. I was keeping my eyes shut out of fear and embarrassment, mostly. Letting them fly open when I heard him speak or was moved too quickly and then snapping them shut again. I’d catch glimpses of everyone but never a full picture.
Feeling like a mouse in a trap a few guys knelt at each side and at the back of the bin. Cutting through chicken wire, making usage holes, I was guessing. Any time I sensed somebody close I’d throw myself in the opposite direction– continually bashing myself into chicken wire. He came to the back snapping, “foot” at me, like he did. I reached through a makeshift hole at the back and was promptly zip tied to the wire. I reached through the other side with my still-free ankle before he even had to ask. I was hoping my hands would be left free and they were.
“All right boys!” he said, clapping once. That shockingly loud, attention-getting one he’d use while teaching and trying to make people shut up. “Is this not the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen?” he asked.
There followed some hearty agreements, a smattering of applause. A guy kneeled near me on the left side of the cage and said quietly, “you are, you’re really pretty.” I was absurdly touched by that, and how shy he sounded.
“Couple of pointers and facts. Number one, baby has a safeword that’s ‘Remington’ what happens if baby says ‘Remington’?” he called.
“It all stops!” they called back. I started shaking. When they did call and answer like this the crowd sounded bigger than when they’d all just been silently watching me.
“The point of today is baby was horny last night. Let’s give it to her so good she won’t play around again, right boys?”
“Give it to her!” was called back.
“I get that some of you are going to want to just slam away, that’s fine. But I’m going to tell you this too– my focus is getting her to orgasm so much she thinks she’s going to die. She’s a little clit stimmy slut. Don’t bother with anal, there’s no point! She likes giving head and I’d like to say I trained her up for it but honestly she’s just a natural suctioning queen. First one that gets her to come, free box of ammo for you!”
The whole time he was talking I felt myself shifting wildly, knees sliding out on the tarp. A few times I reached up to cover my breasts but it was exhausting on my core to hold myself like that.
“And baby,” he said, now kneeling down and catching my eye. “Ready?”
I gulped but nodded. He looked unsurprised but proud nevertheless.
“I’m turning off your ears, and plugging them up; what do you need to hear for? And I’m covering your eyes, what do you need to see for?” he said, still using his gentlest tone.
“I don’t. I don’t need to see or hear. I’m just my daddy’s come-sock,” I sighed back.
“I think I can’t fall more in love with you and then you surprise me anew,” he said. Taking the entire headset off my head he reached into his pocket, pulling out earplugs. Pinching and lifting the top of my ear to help them settle deeper into the canal. One ear was blocked and he moved to the second. I shifted my head to make it easier for him to do it. Then he pulled out the padded blinders from our duffle bag. Why hadn’t I made note of those in the bag before we’d left! Then I would have at least asked him why he had them! The headset went back on over all. I was left entirely in the dark, completely deaf except for the sound of my own heartbeat and breath in my skull. Nearly entirely deprived of my senses except touch.
I startled forward, bashing my forehead into the wire when I felt a hand between my legs. Soft and definitely not his, some stranger's hand. Felt him sort of coaxing and letting my wetness drip across his fingers. I hooked my hips up– it felt surprisingly good. I didn’t think I’d be able to enjoy this, or even really be ready for round two after the first I’d had out on the bench. He didn’t know me like my man did though. He was soft but clumsy. I tried to rock, show him the rhythm I needed. But his hand suddenly left me. I slumped a little, feeling dissatisfied and edging toward irritation. ‘That box of ammo might not be distributed until late in the day’, I thought meanly. I gasped and hit my face again when something else slid between my legs. Not a hand, not fingers, definitely a cock. And definitely not my man’s. I hopped forward, trying to get away. Someone had a hand on my lower back, through the roof of the box, like he was trying to ease down a balky animal. Then another hand against my forehead, pushing me back toward the surprise dick bobbing behind me. He slid in surprisingly easily but I still gasped. Not as big as my man’s. And I was wet. But was frozen in shock, unsure how to feel about this invader. For a few strokes he moved slowly but then started banging away. I settled down onto my elbows, letting my hips be sealed to the back of the box. It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t good enough.
Then I remembered everyone, including my man, was watching me take this. It made me grunt and try to sit up. Popping the top of my head off the roof. Someone reached through the hole by my side, fingers on my knuckles and took my hand. Another stranger. But I held onto it, oddly soothed. Settling back into the fucking. Wishing anyone would touch my clit. Trying to relax further, getting that panicky feeling of drying out and worried about getting hurt. Quite suddenly I felt whoever it was finish. I almost shrieked, but mostly because I hadn’t been expecting it. Lacking any possible audible clue he was going to come. Besides, I’d only really had sex with my man– and he usually took a while. I wasn’t used to just a few minutes and for it to be over. I especially wasn’t used to having that filled-up feeling in my guts without having an orgasm when it happened. I was allowed to relax for a minute, or a little bit less. A hand was suddenly on my chin, lifting my face, pulling me a little forward. Feeling the head of a cock bounce off my bottom lip.
This was better, feeling a little more confident, a little less violated with this. Sort of delightfully easy too, because he was smaller than my usual too. Less girth, less length. Tasting different but not bad. And again, I kept expecting violence or roughness but no– at worse just clumsiness. Two hands on my cheeks, cradling my face as he fucked it. Curling my tongue underneath him, sucking, breathing through my nose, feeling almost easy.
Once more I jerked forward feeling something between my legs, expecting penetration again and sort of dreading it. But no, just fingers. I buried the cock in my throat a little further still though, face mashing into pubic hair. I slid my knees further apart, lifting my hips as I moved sweatily. Wanting the touch at least. But he was pressing too hard, especially while I still felt swollen from the admittedly brief fucking. He squeezed my clit suddenly and I had to work to not bite down. I stopped moving, and the hands on my face went softer still– stroking, trying to ease me down. I felt knuckles against my inner thigh, tapping for me to spread again after clamping my legs shut. I was nervous and waiting for further hurt when I felt a single index finger on me and I knew it was my man, not the pincher. Spreading my lips, clearly explaining things to whoever had been too rough. I got back into a good rhythm in my head. Weirdly and wildly turned on by the idea of him teaching some stranger how to get me off. Exposing the head of my clit even. I started rocking back into it when he stopped. The other hand went to it. Not as good, of course, but better than it had been. Suddenly the hands on my face cupped my chin, smothering me entirely as he shot come straight down my throat. This time at least, I had some warning, feeling his hands spasming on my chin. So I breathed through it easily, breathing through my nose deeply, swallowing shallowly but smoothly.
I felt the come from the first man suddenly gush over whoever’s fingers were working at me. Dripping down my thighs and making me feel a little disgusting and a little sexy. I sputtered, throat hoarse and dry after having come hit the back of it so forcefully. I felt another tap on my cheek and I sighed, raising my chin, not really ready. Surprised and gladdened to feel a straw poking at my upper lip. I gulped down several swallows of fairly cool water. Breathing afterward I suddenly realized whoever was jerking me off was hitting his stride. I again fell onto my elbows, pressing my ass against the chicken wire hard enough to leave an impression no doubt.
I came suddenly, not even really meaning to. Almost screaming it out. This time there was no rest. Someone’s hand was softly but implacably on my ponytail, drawing me forward to use my mouth again. Another cock taking me from behind again. It was easier now that I’d orgasmed and– increasing that dichotomous feeling of being both disgusting and sexy– the jizz from the first man worked as a surprisingly good lubricant.
It continued to be easy. I was beginning to hit that usual subspace but in an oddly new way. Sort of reduced to my two ends, two filled holes. Being glided back and forth over the tarp in the cage, tugged forward to deep throat, pulled backward to fill my guts. That reduced feeling worked to my benefit, as did the blindness and deafness. Focusing only on the cocks, brainless and letting it happen. I’d never been used like this, never had two cocks at once but it wasn’t hard. I was almost proud of myself. No sense of panic, no more dread even. The men using me almost came in tandem. Again, no break. Another hand between my legs. I tried to shy away this time though, trying to close my legs, fighting against my restrained ankles to protect my slippery and tender clit. It was no use, someone reaching through the front of the cage, hands on my shoulders, pressing me back into it. I tried to relax but I could feel myself making near-crying noises. I didn’t think I could come again. Everything below my belly button felt soft, without blood flow or power. I startled and shook the cage feeling the head of a cock against my instep. Could almost picture the audience laughing at how alarmed I’d been. A hand circling that same ankle. Creating another spot to fuck by sliding his shaft between his palm and the side of my foot. I went still, deciding how I felt. Another instance of being weirdly turned on. It felt particularly good, almost a foot massage. Silkier though because of course his erection was smooth on me. I took a deep breath and started chasing the possible orgasm instead of talking myself out of the possibility.
When I came again I went entirely brainless. Sort of blanking out, definitely screaming this time. Another cock shoved into my mouth. This time it was rough– my mouth was swollen, cracking at the edges. Whoever had been fucking my left foot spurted onto it, come dripping down my heel. Impossibly hot, strangely delicious. I grunted around whoever was in my mouth as someone started jackhammering away in my cunt. I couldn’t hear but could clearly feel the suctioning wetness happening back there. He moved too fast and too hard. Small, but very rough. I cried out again when he pulled out, coming across my ass and hips. I managed to jerk away from whoever was fucking my mouth long enough to take a deep breath.
“That wasn’t enough, sir!” I cried out, surprising myself. I actually wanted another orgasm. I wasn’t sure if I wanted another cock in me or not, honestly. But I knew I could take it. My mouth was filled up again and he came after a few strokes.
Panting, trying to keep up and relax. My back beginning to hurt, my knees aching. My lips felt twice their usual size, throat swollen and sore. I didn’t even want to picture what I looked like between the legs. Imagining a massively distended and wet mess.
Another cock slid between my thighs though. If I’d been able to think clearly I would have laughed or said ‘thank you’. I don’t know how to describe it but it was almost like a polite introduction after everyone else just slamming wildly. Letting the head of his cock slick across my clit, parting lips. Letting me feel his length and smoothness. It felt good. I rode his shaft, lubing him up with the mess of everybody before him. He finally slid into me slowly. Reaching through the hole in the side, locking his hand at my hip. I tried to figure out who he might be just from his hand. A big hand definitely, thumb almost on my spine, his fingers wrapping around my belly. I was going to start working on him but he held me in place. Letting me stretch and acclimate to him. Feeling something akin to an instant infatuation. Thinking that everyone else had been boyish when they fucked– whoever this was was a man. I knew he wasn’t mine, but a good one nevertheless. When he started thrusting his hand on my hip shifted, cradling my clit. Letting it slide in between his fore and middle finger.
“Oh, this is enough,” I moaned. “Thank you, sir.”
This one was slow– this one took a while. I felt him being leisurely with me. He was assured of his own orgasm, I didn’t get any sense of rush or overwhelming desire, just surety. It took forever for mine to crest. Never stopping, never breaking, never hitting the shore. I felt him come with that same unworried feeling. Holding me to him but not with any jerking, off-rhythm, blasting. I burst into tears– not upset, just overwhelmed. The moisture gathered and pooled into my blindfold, not being absorbed by the leather. I slumped entirely to the floor of the box. Face flat to the hot, rubber-smelling tarp. Tummy and thighs and breasts sticking instantly and sweatily. Ankles still hauled up and tied to the chicken wire.
There had been eight men in the shed, excepting mine. They’d all gotten one. Or at least I was pretty sure– I hadn’t necessarily been on the top of my mental game, so my count might be off. I hoped that meant this was over. And as the minutes spiraled out that seemed likely.
I felt a blade on my ankle again. Too exhausted to be scared though. Turning my other ankle a little out and away when I felt the blade on my bone. Not wanting whoever was cutting me free to have to touch the come still making my foot wet. I curled up in the box, laying on my side. Gasping again when I got that massive draining sensation as four loads slid out of me as I drew my knees to my chest.
I think I was the closest to fainting I had ever been. I was confused by what was happening when I felt another crowd of hands on me. Helping me up and out of the box. Being lifted like a light-as-a-feather game until I was put down on the sawdusty floor. I instantly stumbled and fell to my knees though. Exhausted, thighs trembling, core worked to total straining. I started crying again, this time a little because of distress. Like a kid having a tantrum because of how tired they were. I felt bruised and pushed past my limits.
My headset was suddenly taken off and I felt cool air over at least my ears, lifting the few stray strands of hair off the side of my face. It was delightful. I felt his pinching fingers at the tops of my ears again. I started crying harder just because feeling his hands after all of that was so good. Like finally getting home after being someplace totally foreign. Plucking the earplugs from my ears. Hearing everything so loudly for a moment that I almost clapped my hands to my ears. Realizing then I couldn’t hear anybody else in there any more. He took off my blindfold and I glanced around wildly. Still splay-legged on the floor, head whipping around everywhere. But we were alone in the shed. Like nobody else had even been there. But I knew they had because of my ache, my tiredness.
He was sitting right beside me on a wooden kitchen chair.
“You did such a good job, little girl,” he said. I kneeled up, knees still hurt and reached out for him, laying a hand on the top of his boot, his knee closest to me. Leaning forward to swipe my face against his other knee, drying my eyes on his pants.
“You look so lovely,” he said.
“Thank you,” I said, near tears but not wanting to start again. He patted his thigh and I shook my head.
“I’m a mess. Don’t make me sit on you and–”
“Up,” he commanded. I stood, still shaking, feeling even my stomach and upper arms quivering. I still couldn’t get over the fact that we were so suddenly alone.
I sat gingerly on his thigh, his arm circling around my waist. Leaning forward he rested his face on my chest, breathing deeply.
“Can you give me one last one?” he sighed.
“Oh no, please daddy, I don’t think I can, oh please–”
“I’d really like your last one to be with me. Right on my hand. You look so pretty when you do. I want you all mine again. Show me you’re mine, little girl,” he said. And he said it so soft, so begging. I shifted more toward him, opening my legs. Opening his mouth he pulled my closest nipple between his lips, just barely touching my clit. Knowing I needed next to no pressure at this point.
It didn’t take him long at all. He knew precisely how to pull it out from me. And though this wasn’t the record amount of orgasms I’d had in one session this was the hardest one. This orgasm drained away from me, pulling anything I had left out and away from me. I clung to him, sure if I didn’t keep a good grip on his shoulders I’d fall to the floor and never be able to get back up again.
“There’s my good girl. Oh that was so nice, thank you baby,” he said. I held on tighter and he gripped me tighter still, mirroring me.
“You’re welcome,” I said, wanting to say ‘I love you’ but knowing I’d be useless if I did.
“Are you hungry?” he asked and I almost laughed. “We can go anywhere you want, anything you want.”
“No please,” I said. “I don’t even think I can put my clothes back on. I stink. All of my makeup must be totally fucked… I don’t think I can even put my clothes on to get back to the car.”
“If you can get just your pants and shirt back on, no underwear, no bra, just enough clothes, I’ll carry you to the car. You don’t even have to put on socks or boots. All right baby? You can do that. We’ll get something wonderful to eat ordered in. While we’re waiting we’ll have a nice cool shower. I bet you can get dressed to do that with me, right?”
“Oh, I can,” I said, slithering off his lap. Looking around for my clothes. Wincing to get into them, feeling how dusty and clammy they were. I shoved my bra and underwear into the deep side pocket of the duffle. Watching him do the same with the blindfold, my ears. I hesitated by the door.
“What?” he asked, hand on my lower back.
“I don’t… I don’t want to see anybody–” I said, embarrassed and imagining making eye contact with anybody that had just been in here.
“The guys have all gone on home. Don’t worry,” he said, his usual down-playing whatever was making me anxious sort of tone. I nodded.
Walking back out onto the rifle range I sighed again, the fresh air feeling like heaven. Once again, just as empty as when we arrived. Nearly surreal. But seeing the bench I’d been jerked off over, someone had cleaned up for us. My spotting scope back in it’s case, his rifle back together. Our rifle bag zipped shut. The box of ammo we had sitting on the top of the bench was gone though. Somebody had cleaned up and claimed their prize.
Suddenly he lifted me up newlywed style. Beginning to carry me down to the lot. I buried my nose in his throat, holding him around the shoulders and neck.
“I’m so dirty anyway, it doesn’t matter if I did walk barefoot down to the car,” I said quietly.
“Mmm, maybe. But there’s gravel. And I don’t want you cutting up your lovely little feet,” he said. When we got to it I reached down, opening the passenger side door. He put me gently into the bucket seat.
“Stay, I’ll be back.”
I watched through the passenger window as he went back up to the bench, retrieving things. I leaned back against the seat, sinking into it. Smelling how raucous my sweat was. Listening to him filling up the trunk of the car. He came around, starting up the car. Putting on my music again.
“Lesson learned?” he asked.
“If I need to come, I will go to you,” I said.
“I love you,” he said.
“I love you,” I answered.