Abduction Pt. 02

All the way back they were dragged - though after a time the men found it easier dragging them by both legs.

The old man was waiting down near the sea. He was sitting in a deck chair under a parasol with dark glasses and a panama hat on - but nothing else.

"Hallo Tabitha and Emily-Sue. Did you enjoy your swim and running? How sandy you have got! See how right I was about the towels. Have the boys been burying you in the sand?"

There were spades for building sandcastles dug into the sand.

Celia shook her head and looked at the two men. Hardly boys, not with the twin whoppers of erections they were sporting. She was in a way surprised they had not been shaved to complete the nonsense fantasy that she and Natasha were little girls and they were little boys: but they had not and were actually very hairy. Not at all like little boys. Very much the mature male, and clearly very potent. Their penes had not subsided.

The old man pretended to notice the erections. "Oh don't worry about those, Emily-Sue, it's just little boys and their willies when they want to do a wee. So silly; aren't you little girls so much neater. Do you want to do a wee, girls? You can bob down on the sand if you like. There's nobody coming along; no one is going to see you."

They shook their heads.

"Boy's you'd better go and relieve yourselves in the sea or, well if you have to. I suppose the girls won't mind..."

Celia almost did not know where to look - or would not had it been a more normal circumstance. The two men just let fly. Strong streams arcing from the ends of their large and very firm erections - true parabolic curves glinting and sparkling in the sunshine. And the men turning as they did so, the bright streams coming closer and closer to the girls. This was surely not the way they were going to have the sand washed away?

"Boys!" It was a command from the old man. "Don't be silly!"

Easy for Celia to imagine. So easy. Had the old man not been there the twin streams could, so easily, have been used to 'power wash' the sand from their 'pussies' and made them ready again for intercourse. The twin hot streams of piss making short work of the sand, leaving them wet, dripping and available. Power washing all the sand away. Celia could imagine that. But with the old man there the streams trailed off just leaving damp marks in the sand.

"Good. Well, girls, if you don't want to - even after that unnecessary display - let's see the boys bury you. That is always fun. Do you remember last year? Lie down."

Celia had no option. She had to do as she was told. The men working away to cover them with sand, patting down the sand making it all so neat. It was not a new experience to Celia any more than it probably was to Natasha but to have two naked and so well endowed men doing the job - well that was new.

The old man smiled at the progress.

In the distance Celia could see figures coming closer. It was not missed on the minders or the old man. Covered in sand from neck to toe Celia watched the two minders casually saunter into the sea whilst the old man simply laid his newspaper over his thighs.

It was a young mother and her little boy. The boy thought it just so funny that Natasha and Celia were buried in the sand and said so. The young mother stopped to talk to the old man.

"We've been imprisoned and..." Celia began.

"Emily-Sue! Sssh, we are talking."

And Celia found her power of speech had just gone.

"My nephews," he waved at the minders standing waist deep in the water, hiding their nakedness, and they waved back. "Have certainly imprisoned Emily-Sue and Tabitha in the sand."

The little lad had picked up a spade and was shovelling more sand on and laughing.

The young mother laughed, "So I see. Such fun down by the sea!"

The conversation continued for a few minutes but then the woman took her boy by the hand and wandered off down the beach. The boy chattering away to her and picking up pebbles and sea shells to show her.

They had not gone far before the minders came back out of the water. Celia watched the water running down their naked bodies and was amused, insofar as the awfulness of Natasha and her predicament allowed, to see how shrunk their penes were from the cool water. It had cooled their earlier ardour!

As is normal when buried in sand, the two men sat on the girls. sat astride them.

"Now mind you don't squash the girls. You boys are bigger than them."

They were rather. It was a bit of a weight on her chest. Celia was breathing with a little difficulty. She wanted to tell them to get off but could not speak.

"Egh, egh, ouff," she went as her mouth opened and closed.

The old man was watching. "I do like an ice cream on the beach or a lollipop. Look what the kind boys have gone and bought you each - a lollipop. Now lick it nice and daintily like little ladies should."

The minder on her chest lifted himself a little, allowing her to breath. What? She thought. There was no lollipop there. And then she realised what the old man meant. Crouched over her sand covered chest, legs splayed either side of her was the minder and the closest thing to her, hanging there right in front of her was his penis - his lollipop!

The minder reached down, retracted his foreskin exposing his pink glans, lent a little forward and just popped it into her mouth.

Celia wanted to bite. Wanted to hurt the man but she could only do what the old man said. Her tongue licked, her lips sucked. It was cool from the water and with the salty tang of the sea. It did not take long before it was growing in her mouth - the complete opposite of a lollipop which got smaller rather than larger and was ice cold not blood heat hot!

Beside her, Natasha was getting the same treatment - or was it treat?

The men were enjoying themselves. Trapped and with her head supported by the sand the man could really push at her and force his erection in and out of her mouth with enthusiasm. He must have been close to coming because he suddenly pulled away and stood up, his big erection slapping against his stomach. After a few seconds his companion did the same.

"Have you finished those?" Asked the old man. "If you have then you can finish mine. It's a bit much for me. Tabitha, come here."

With some difficulty the black girl pulled herself up from the sand. She was covered. It had stuck to her wet body almost hiding her nakedness. Celia thought she looked lovely, even so, like that. A sandgirl.

"Come here my dear, suck on my lollipop. There's a little left."

The newspaper was no longer covering his nakedness and there lying to one side was his flaccid penis. Celia almost, well for a few seconds anyway, felt sorry for him. The poor man unable to sustain an erection. Natasha knelt. Celia knew Natasha could do nothing but obey.

From her place in the sand Celia could not actually see Natasha's mouth at work but it was so obvious from the position of her head and the bobbing motion what she was doing. Celia turned her head and looked up at the two men silhouetted against the sky; at their penes standing strongly - such a difference from the old man. At any moment, she knew, one or other of them might be stuffed in her mouth - probably the one she had not been sucking - and it would all begin again and probably reach a conclusion. She would have to be careful to swallow slowly. It was not so easy doing that lying down. She had to be calm and practical. Just go with the flow (ha!) until there was the chance - another chance - of escape.

After a time the old man made male orgasm noises. It seemed Natasha's pretty lips had been enough notwithstanding the lack of an erection.

"Tabitha, Tabitha, you naughty girl. You've taken it all. Go on and give Emily-Sue some."

"Some?" He had come, his lollipop had 'come,' there would be no more 'some.' What did he mean? Oh no!

Natasha got up from her knees, a strange half sand, half black girl moving towards Celia and leaning over her, their faces close to each other, their eyes looking into each other's. Nice to feel the pressed warm softness of Natasha's pretty lips on her own, a delightful intimacy with these awful men around them but Celia also knew what was to come. Natasha's warm, wriggling tongue seeking egress through her lips. A delight but with it, the warm, glutinous mess of the old man's ejaculation sliding down Natasha's tongue and through Celia's open lips. Celia was getting 'some' too!

Celia's tongue sought Natasha's and they played. A private shared intimacy, a companionable friendly thing hidden from the men - if joined by the old man's semen.

They were allowed a little time. Celia was a little worried Natasha might be taken advantage of - given her exposed bottom - but either girl could be taken any time. They did not have a choice, they had no way of preventing 'things' being done. Perhaps though the sand kept them safe. It would be comfortable for neither party to engage with all that sand in Natasha's sex. The rubbing would not be pleasant!

"Come on Tabitha, pull Emily-Sue up!"

The old man was clearly enjoying himself. The two men watched as Natasha helped Celia out of the sand. Like Natasha she was coated in the stuff from neck to foot.

"Dear, oh dear. You have got yourself covered! You'd better go in the sea and wash it off."

A good idea and clearly the men thought so too. Natasha and she were picked up by the men, thrown over their shoulders and run down to the sea. The men waded out a little, dropped the girls into their arms and then:

"One, two and three!" They were thrown bodily out into the water.

Splash! Celia went right under, of course! Coming up gasping, one of the men was on her straightaway.

"Come on, let's get the sand off you."

Moving further out, waist deep in the water his hands were all over her, washing the sand away. All over indeed: there was nowhere the hands did not go; nowhere at all and, indeed, perhaps particularly there!

"All right, all right it's done," she said.

She was pretty sure not a particle of sand remained and perhaps the man thought so too. Celia was lifted up, and plonked unceremoniously back down, down on the man's upstanding erection and, just like the night before, in it went - it had travelled that way before. Celia had known it was going to happen sometime that morning. She had been surprised it had not happened when they had been caught running on the sand. She could imagine the thrill of the chase and their capture had been very exciting to the men. Their pumping up penes had very visually shown that!

Celia thought that for men used to exercise the prospect of running naked after naked girls with the prospect of 'reward' when the girls were caught would be a wonderful prospect. A nice game for lovers to play if they found somewhere private enough. Perhaps early morning by the sea or even out in the countryside. The boy and girl dressed simply in trainers. The warm sun shining down and the birds singing. Perhaps the man's erection coming at the sight. The girl glancing a little coyly at it. It looks very fine. Her boyfriend looks very manly but it is not for her yet. He has to earn the right to inseminate her by catching her. The girl given a suitable head start and then the chase begun. Perhaps it might go on for miles! But eventually the girl caught and taken.

There Celia was, and Natasha as well, being, fucked in the sea. The buoyancy of the water and the gentle surge of the waves making it all so easy to ride up and down. How so much nicer if Natasha and she had come to the seaside with their boyfriends and they were rather naughtily, perhaps daringly, having sex side by side out in the sea. A pleasant consensual experience made a little private by the water. The reality was not consensual - Celia had not even been asked.

Along the seashore Celia could see the woman returning. What would she think? Surely it would be obvious what they were doing?

The men moved further out into the sea letting the water level rise to hide the girls' breasts beneath the waves, their feet bounding up and down along the sandy bottom as they took the girls along. They did not let up on the intercourse.

The little boy waved. Celia could not shout. Could not call for help but equally could not be so unkind to the little boy as not to wave back even though it made everything seem so normal.

The man released her and she was swimming, swimming away from him, her thighs no longer with his big penis between them, instead opening and closing as she swam for the shore. Beside her Natasha doing the same. Perhaps they could rush out of the sea naked and gesticulate even though they could not speak their distress.

Celia could swim, Natasha could swim but there was clearly a big difference between school learnt breast stroke and the practised crawl of strong men. A sudden splashing and they were caught again; not permitted to rise up and reveal their breasts but held.

The woman looked out at them and waved. She had clearly heard and seen the splashing. No doubt she thought they were just having fun in the sea - and why not! A few more words with the old man and on she walked not realising perhaps what was hidden by his strategically placed newspaper. The girls chance of rescue receding.

Unsurprisingly Celia was passed to the other man, each wishing a turn with a girl. Celia looked across to Natasha just as one of the men, the one who had so recently been fucking her, lifted Natasha up in the air and, with her thighs half out of the water and spread either side of his hips, let her down on his erection - the pink head momentarily just poking up above the water. Had the woman on the beach turned she might just have spotted it, spotted Natasha's impalement. But she did not turn and did not see Celia also settled onto the other large erection.

Up and down, up and down. Splash, splash, splash. The woman and the boy were just specks in the distance when the men completed the act, once more releasing their semen into the young girls. It was clear they enjoyed what they had done and, releasing the girls, slapped each other on the back as they walked, still erect, back towards the beach leaving the girls standing in the water.

Natasha looked at Celia, Celia looked at Natasha.

"Mmgh, umph, suss." They still could not speak.

Celia reached out her hand and held Natasha's. Looking down and beneath the water Celia could see what looked a little like white, waving seaweed swinging in the moving water and seemingly attached to where both their legs joined, their so recently shaved pubic mounds and slits. Celia realised it was the men's semen leaking from them. She looked towards the shore with despair. The old man's semen in their mouths, the men's semen in their vaginas - when was this going to end? Celia knew, though, there would be more semen to come, probably a lot more semen to come. She reached and squeezed Natasha's hand and, not being able to say anything. lent forward to kiss her.

They were allowed to sunbathe, permitted to swim, they even got up and built a sandcastle together. A picnic lunch on the beach and magazines brought for them to read. The morning and afternoon passed pleasantly enough, pleasantly enough for kidnapped girls. There was no further interference with their bodies. The girls knew that it was only time. There would be more.