Summer Camp

"When I see a new person walk in through the agency door, I don't see a person anymore. I see margin, risk insurance, and specialty spread. If you can get a girl for a specialty, like chubby beautiful, black beautiful, or amputee beautiful, you might be able to dominate that niche with her. Then her contract gets bundled into a niche index ETF, which is actually how we make most of our profit. There was a girl who has a scar across her whole face and manages to look stunningly beautiful. She'll never get a top modeling job. However when she goes for a contract, she always gets it. Her signing ratio was around 95%. We didn't even get risk insurance on her negotiable instrument. We backed it up with an escrow deposit. Quite frankly, she paid for most of my trip here. All she is getting is peanuts because she only compares herself with top models."

"Ugh," Miranda sighed, "I'm so boring. That's why I can't find a good guy. I should talk about Pilates class or kale recipes."

"Oh, Miranda," said Nancy, "I'm an accountant. My specialty is amortizing car industry machinery. I can't finish a sentence before the guys walk out on me. Mostly, they already see from far that I have this serious vibe and not the girly, gushing vibe. I think we are all pass-overs or we wouldn't be here. I saw a couple wedding bands but that's it."

We talked about our lives. We had a couple spa treatments. For dinner, we got us a nice spot on a porch with Arabian pillows and rugs. Staffers carried out a Japanese grill. A chef cooked yakiniku right in front of us. We got to watch her turn the skewers over. The meat slowly changed color to dramatic sizzles. Delicious scents wafted to our noses. Life was pretty good.

In the dorm, we moved our beds next to each other. Life was wonderful. The unseen master organizers of our experience had known exactly how to break the ice with that rice paddy morning.

In the middle of the night, I was roused again by a referee to check up my recall of my safe word - penguin. Hair stylists and make-up artists worked on us again in the pre-dawn hours to ready us for the day to wake up with a perfect look - just as characters do in movies. I fell asleep pretty quickly again being relaxed and tired.

The popcorn sound of firework woke me up. It was still dark out there. There was a slight sliver of pale on the horizon from a still distant sunrise. Why fireworks in the morning, I wonder. Then I heard the engine of a pickup truck roar. The fire work drew closer. The yurt wall opposite ours, outside the window, lit up fiery orange with the sound going off.

"Aaaaah," a guest screamed in her bed. Another woman jumped up. A third woman was already running out of the door. Then I saw women in pajamas from the other dorms already running at full speed outside. The sounds were sharp, intense, and eardrum deafening loud. The space between the popping sounds was filled by a hollow ringing in my ear. I felt disoriented. I got up and looked outside.

A couple military style pickup trucks with mounted machine guns were careening over the dirt path. The red fire flashes licked out of the barrels like hungry tongues. Guests were running in panic across the street. I pressed myself behind a tree to get an overview and to make a plan on where to run. The whole thing felt like a group of militias overrunning a civilian village. Some of the soldiers... or where they more rebels without regular uniform? ... jumped off the pickup trucks to chase down women. There were long sprints of women barely staying ahead of the rebel before they'd dive into a yurt.

A sudden realization in the overwhelming experience was that there were no bullet holes. From all the fire of hundreds of shells dropping out of the machine gut, the yurts should have been shot to shreds. There wasn't a single bullet hole anywhere. They were using blanks. They pop as loud as real bullets but don't have a projectile. I started relaxing. We were safe. How could I have thought for a moment that we were under real attack? Our resort had a pretty solid security cordon around it to keep any protestors and paparazzi out.

I left the protection of the tree to walk down the street in slow, measured steps to take in the whole scene. A rebel soldier ripped a woman's top off to expose her before he threw her over his shoulder to carry her to a covered truck. He was built strong. He looked like a meathead at the gym who works out three times a day and eats protein supplement with a dozen eggs a day. His muscles were slightly oiled to provide a nice shine in the rising morning sun. His facial hair was carefully manicured to be a millimeter thick to barely paint some dark figures on his face. He was wearing eye liner. A photographer snapped photos. He paused in a wide stance for a moment to take up a power pose, while he tickled the guest on his shoulders to make her flail around.

I saw Jess, the small stature Chinese woman from the bus. She was split naked except for a black hood over her head tied around her neck. Four men, one on each of her arms and legs, was restraining her in the air. She was fighting with all her might yet powerlessly stretched out into the shape of a sea star in the air. Her pussy was wide exposed. She had a piercing ring down there. Her face was all fierce. There was a kind of beautiful ease in her face. The struggle and fight seemed something that she could really let herself go into. They tossed her on the back of the truck.

As I walked around the next turn of the dirt road, I saw another naked woman. She had been tied with her hands and feet to a pole, which two men carried on their shoulders. She was dangling from it like a deer that had been caught on a hunt. A photographer was snapping up photos. Her face was fierce. She looked left and right, yet couldn't struggle at the gravity and her tight restraints.

I saw into a yurt. One of those handsome, jacked up guys lay on top of a screaming woman. She was pinned down. Another woman tried crawling away from a rebel on her belly. He held her by one foot. Her hand reached into the empty air above the dirt road, tears streaming down her face. Another guy walked two women with their hands in zip ties behind their back down the street. They were in compliance. Their clothing had been ripped and shredded from a struggle. I felt like I was walking through a surreal movie set.

Startled by a thick, muscular arm around my neck, I felt the pec of a man pressed behind me. I had never felt such a well cushion pec muscle before. "You thought you were invisible, didn't you," the man in his mid-twenties told me with perfect diction and the narration skill of an actor. My knees got knocked in from behind. I sunk to the ground belly down. His boot pressed on my back and pinned me. Another boot stepped onto my butt with a rough tread. Feeling the combined weight of two men, probably in the 200 pound range, I didn't even try struggling with my one hundred pound body.

I let my arms be folded to the side of my body. They wrapped a very long rope around my body starting at my shoulders, going round and round again and again, until it reached my ankles. I had as much movement left as a caterpillar. I was utterly helpless to be carried by them. I couldn't even braise myself from a fall. They could play with my face at complete liberty. A Chevy pickup truck pulled up. I was hoist over the side of the truck bed. The truck bed was lined with a black foam mattress. My head was propped on a comfortable pillow.

Another woman came over the side of the truck. I noticed that she had a blue tattoo as well. A third woman joined us. We started getting piled on top of each other, so that our bodies were touching in the most unusual cuddle pile that I had ever been on. They placed Nancy right next to me. Our faces were so close that we could have made out. I felt the rumbling of the pickup moving.

After a ten minute ride, the pickup stopped. The guests got unloaded with me. We were in a new village. The village had a harsher look. The houses had real walls. There were gates. There were animal enclosures. It felt like there was actually a lot of labor done. There wasn't a single pretty decoration or ornamental tree.

There was a crowd of men in gray working cloths around us. One of them raised a finger to point at me. "I'll pay five hundred for that one." A satchel of money was thrown through the air. The man next to me looked inside and then shoved me forward. The man, who had a brown full beard and looked like a medieval smith caught me. "Hey I need help carrying her," he called out. Two guys who looked like his scrawny buddies pushed through the crowd.

The three carried me through the crowd and uphill in the village. They weren't as strong. I felt tussled around. Being so restrained, I felt a little scared each time a hand slipped and I dropped a bit. We arrived at a little hut with a partially broken wood door. I saw a dirty mattress in the corner and a little stove with a kettle in the other corner. The mattress didn't even have sheets. I was tossed down there face down. I heard a pin dropping to lock the door. There was only one small window in the hut that wasn't mean to open.

My owner got a knife out to cut the rope off. Each thrust was tugging on my ropes. I felt very passive being handled so long. His two friends stood at the door at a distance, seemingly too intrigued to watch than to leave. My owner, ripped my clothes off and threw them into the little stove. The flames flicked high as the cotton clothing caught fire. "You don't need these as my property. I want to see your tits and ass at all times."

"Suck my cock," he ordered me with a rough farmer accent. I got on my knees and took the bald shaved cock in my mouth. It was soft. I could stuff the whole squishy thing in my mouth. The cock was quickly filling with blood. I knew that I wouldn't be able to hold it in much longer. He knew as well. Both of his hands were pressing onto the back of my head to keep my lips sealed to the base of his cock.

"Hey, I have to take a leak but don't want to use the dirty village restroom. You wouldn't mind if I used your new slave, seeing as she is new and all," one of my owners friends asked.

"Come on. What is mine is yours!" invited the new owner.

"If that's so, I'll take a leak as well," exclaimed the second friend.

I could feel the warm piss running down my back. A dual stream was hitting me there. They slowly walked around and shot me in the face. Before I had to close my eyes, I saw that it was yellow urine. They hadn't gone cheap by simply guzzling a lot of water before the scene but had actually taken their time of nursing full bladder over a few hours. I heard the shutter click outside of the window. Oh this was all going to turn into a vacation memento.

With my eyes clothed and struggling with an ever expanding cock in my mouth. That was going to be a monster of a cock. My tongue probed it. It was still pretty soft yet, took up all the space of my mouth cavity.

"Oh, I'm so sorry. We are getting your bed wet. We should have her drink the urine," explained the first friend with an Eastern European accent.

My owner back up. His dick sprang into a straight line as it uncurled from the cramped space of my mouth. Another cock quickly entered my lips, and I was guzzling a thick stream of urine. I got so turned on that I started fingering myself. The brain is the largest erotic organ. That quote always gets me. I hadn't realized because the scene was so engrossing. I was soaking wet as if I had peed my own pants. I started grinding the flat part of my hand around my pubic bone. Heck, I may as well enjoy this fake rape.

"Oh, the slave likes it!" exclaimed the third friend.

"I want your cock as well," I ordered him.

He was happy to oblige. There I was happily sucking on three cocks. There cocks definitely had to survive a tough audition to get hired. I wondered if their cocks had been turned into securities as well and traded on a third tier financial market.

I must have gotten them hard enough. They pushed me on my back in the bare mattress. A cock went into my pussy and started ramming away. Miranda was skilled, but there is nothing like a raw talent of a man going nuts on the pussy with a pounding. My mouth was being serviced with thrusts as well. I could simply lie back as a ragdoll and let myself be fucked by three guys. I didn't even really pay much attention to what they did with me. Occasionally, they broke character discussing in a hushed voice if I had checked earlobe nibbling or not on my preference sheet. I wasn't going to tip them any less later during check-out time.

After a thoroughly abusive session, my owner told me to get the fuck up and stop being so lazy. I had caused them so much work. He put a dog collar over my head and tightened it around my neck. One of his friend came on my face. The other lathered my tits with a nice cum line. The white of my owner was dripping out of my cunt. My owner tugged on a leash to parade me outside like that.

The scene outside was dramatic. A woman was thrown over a wheel borrow and got fucked from behind. Another woman was kneeling and surrounded by a crowd of twenty men, all rubbing their penises to jerk off on her face. Her face was already coated with four layers of facial frosting. It was so thick that she couldn't open her eyes. The mascara had been carefully chosen by her makeup artist to run down the entire length of her face with the stream of the cum.

Another woman was suspended from her wrists in the center of the town square. She was very slender. The belly curved in to expose the hip bones. Her ribs were pronounced. Her feet dangled in the air and were tied together with rough rope. A masked man was whipping her with a ten foot long bull whip. Every time he flicked the whip, the loud snap of the tip reaching the speed of sound burst across the center square. I knew that the whip is actually slowed down by the loud snap and hits a lot more gentle than when it's silent.

On the side of the square was a pig pen. A man was leading out a rosy pig with mud stains on its rump on one side while two men forced Jess to crawl in on the other side. The mud was deep with severe imprints of the pig hooves. There was a big puddle of pig urine in one corner to suggest that the mud was really soaked everywhere. Jess's knees and wrists sunk a few inches into the muck. She was all naked, her pale almost translucent skin exposed. An army boot stepped on the back of her head to force her face down into the pig shit. When she came back up, she was snorting pig shit out of her nose and spitting brown pieces and saliva out. The two pairs of boots kept tormenting her and rolling her around in the big muck while she had to crawl along the length of the pig pen. The only thing left clean was her rosy butt and pussy lips.

"See anything you like," my owner asked as a rhetoric question. "All of this and a lot more is on the menu for you on your next trip.

My owner tugged on my leash to jerk me forward. He led me to a little side alley. A man with a heavy rubber apron, giant elbow high gloves, and a face shield pointed me to put my hands against the wall and spread my leg. He pointed a rubber hose at me and splashed me with comfortably warm water. He got every crevice of my body: pussy, asshole, ears, nose, and he made me open my mouth wide. Another man came outside the building and toweled me down with a soft, white, and fully towel. He was dressed like a doctor with a coat over a neat shirt and cloth pant.

He told me to walk in with him all naked. The room looked like a primitive surgery office with white metal medical cabinets, anatomical charts on the wall, and rolling metal drawers. Nancy was on a short examining table with her feet up in stirrups. Her ankles were tied to the stirrups. Her hands were tied to the table frame. Her mouth had a giant red gag ball. Unable to control her saliva, thick strands of saliva hung down to her chest.

"Eat!" the doctor ordered me short and unquestioning.

I bend down to get on my knees. An assistant helped me into black knee pads to comfortably eat Nancy's pussy for a long time. I wrapped my hands around her thighs, so that I could munch while reaching her clit from on top. She was so clean that I got a very fresh taste of her juices. It was such a subtle flavor. Eating her pussy, licking every square inch of it, digging my tongue deep to get to more nectar, and hearing her moan was the highlight of my vacation.

"No fisting!" the doctor warned me. "Only sweet licking and sucking."

And so I did!

The beauty of eating someone is really in feeling them, in feeling their breathing lift their belly and tense in just the right moments, in finding those surprising spots that ratchet up their throes of arousal towards a climax. There is something intimate about moving quickly flicking fingers around the front of the cervix towards the g-spot to find the unique spot for that person that does the most. Most of all, I'm a sucker (pun intended) for stuffing my face as deep into a pussy as possible. When there is pussy all over my face and the thighs close in around my head, I'm in heavy. I love to walk away with my whole face smelling of pussy.

The day at the rebel camp was very fun. In the midafternoon, the boom of an armada of heavy helicopters flying in broke the veil that had settled over us. The raping and pillaging was disrupted. Our captors looked worried. We saw Blackhawks over hovering over the village. Thick ropes were thrown down. American soldiers rappelled down the helicopters. The uniform was slightly modified. The pants were pretty much camouflage boxer briefs that showed those tight and much worked out asses. The t-shirts were two numbers too small to impress with swelled up pectoralis muscles. They wore their dog tags out and had cool Ray-Ban sunglasses on. The rebels simply ran away.

I had my very own rescue sergeant. He handed me a great wool blanket to cover up.

"Lucy, I'm with the United States Marine Corps. You are safe now," no matter how stages the moment was, hearing those words still gave me goosebumps. There is something about the strength of the American military might coming down to rescue an American. The no man or woman left behind ethos goes so deep.

He walked me to a landed helicopter on a field. He gallantly held out my hand to help me in. Inside, the co-pilot was handing out refreshments. Miranda was already there cuddled up in her gray wool blanket. The big financial controller was there. Jess was there. She had fallen asleep, completely spent from her escapades. Though brought Lucy after us. The helicopter was pretty roomy. We sat facing each other.

The blades slowly spun up. The vibrations in the helicopter and the noise grew more intense. The pilot did a last look at us over his shoulder before flipping a switch and pulling on the lever to his left. We got airborne. In a smooth arc, the pilot directed the helicopter around the rebel village, so that we could take it in. After that we got a twenty minute tour of the whole compound to get an idea for next time. It was an impressive upsell. The range of scenarios and stages was extensive. We could see from the very distance other vacation groups. We were far up high, so that we couldn't recognize any faces and they could maintain their privacy.

We touched down. The pilot waited for the blades to completely come to a standstill to make sure that we were comfortable exiting. There was a whole ward of massage tables with privacy screens in between to give every guest an instant relaxing come down from the high adrenaline adventure.

The next day was a cool down day. Nancy kept promising to make me experience her astonishing lint licking skills. However it seemed that each time something in the schedule got away. The cool down day went by so quickly. We found ourselves back on the bus and leaving the resort. I knew that we couldn't do anything lesbian on the bus. The good bye at the airport was way too quick. Her plane got rescheduled. She had to run to her gate.