Caution: This Thriller Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/Ma, NonConsensual, Rape, Lesbian, Heterosexual, Wimp Husband, Incest, Mother, Daughter, Spanking, Rough, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Exhibitionism,
Desc: Thriller Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Could Sophie McNeville do enough to satisfy the four abductors long enough for her to to work out an escape plan, or was the family's fate sealed from the beginning?
The big man, the one Sophie McNeville knew only as "Al", grunted deeply three times. Once for each mighty thrust as he rammed his cock hard into her tight, bruised, cunt and came deep inside her.
Al's pounding crushed the petite woman hard against the lumpy old mattress on the queen-sized metal-framed bed to which she was fastened. The light chain locked around her neck didn't prevent her moving on and around the bed but limited her to an area of a few paces beyond the bed frame. As his ejaculations dwindled he let his full weight pin her down. Sophie was sore, bruised, and breathless. Her nipples hurt. The hairs on Al's chest and belly were scratchy against her face and naked body. His ponderous weight was suffocating. She gave a sigh of relief as she felt Al's thick cock soften and he began to ease out of her. She unwrapped her legs from around his torso and tried to relax. She ached. She had lost count of the number of times she had been raped and abused by Al and his associates. Al grunted again as he rolled off Sophie and reached for the cigarettes and lighter he had placed on the crate that served as a bedside table.
"You're getting really good at faking it, Mrs McNeville," he said in his quiet voice. He lit a cigarette. " More subtle. I could have sworn you climaxed just before I came."
She had. In fact she climaxed frequently when they fucked her. They couldn't know that. Al had insisted she put on a show, so she did. Head back, legs raised, breasts fondled, nipples tweaked, hips grinding, lots of "Oh mi gods ... oooh ... don't stop..." Her quiet, genuine, orgasms got overlooked in the theatrical performance. The pretense was the result of the offer she had made to the rapists on the first night. The offer had been a vain attempt to keep the predators from ravishing her daughter, Priscilla, who had just turned eighteen. Al held her to the promise, mostly the others didn't care.
The abduction of the McNevilles had been carefully planned, Sophie now realized. Someone had known their intention to spend two weeks in an exclusive health resort. The holiday had been arranged by her husband and it was the first since their wedding two years ago. As they waited for their transport, Trevor considered the way his step-daughter was growing. She was a younger edition of her very attractive mother. These days he often fantasized about slipping into her room and ... His cock stirred at a forbidden thought. He coughed and adjusted his pants. "You two could be mistaken for twins," he said. It wasn't an exaggeration. Sophie and her teen-age daughter were dressed alike in button-down-the-front tailored linen dresses and both wore identical straw hats on their tight blonde curls. They were the same long legged five foot four and from a distance the age difference was not noticeable.
The family had assumed the white limousine that collected them from their house on the outskirts of the city was the hire-car they were expecting from the resort. They were only disabused of the idea when, after twenty minutes, the vehicle pulled into an old truck stop and they were ordered out of the limousine. Two young men were standing ready to receive them at the side of a windowless van. The women were handcuffed so quickly that they had no time to even think of trying to resist. At first they were more puzzled than frightened.
Trevor McNeville had protested noisily but had shut up when the smallest of the three assailants produced a revolver and pointed it at Trevor's head. Trevor's thin body shook with rage and frustration as the limmo driver— the biggest man of the group of three—man-handled Sophie and Priscilla into the van. Sophie thought all three assailants were in the late twenties early thirties, athletic, clean cut, conservatively dressed in slacks and tee shirts. None were wearing the traditional kidnappers' balaclava. The men were excited but methodical and confident in their actions. Sophie had the impression that they had done this before.
It was also clear to Sophie from the start that the women were the main target. The big man who had driven the limmo heaved their suitcases into the van then assisted Priscilla into the dark interior. He slid his left hand up her dress and stroked the front of her panties. He pushed the silk material into her tight pussy. She began to cry. Then it was Sophie's turn to be helped into the van. He fondled Sophie's breasts as he sat her down on the pile of bags and boxes that half filled the back of the van. He told her she had nice tits and that he—"call me Al"—looked forward to seeing them, "In the flesh, as it were." Then he left the women. He closed the sliding door of the van as he went. Sophie heard the limmo start up and drive away.
Sophie tried to commit Al's description to memory. She rehearsed in her mind what she would say to the police, if she ever got the chance. Tall, about six foot three, close-cropped black hair, grey eyes, strong chin, heavy build but athletic. Large hands with neatly manicured nails. Quiet educated accent. Dressed in white shirt, black tie, cotton slacks, polished shoes and wearing a chauffeur's hat, she thought. She was pleased she hadn't panicked.
She said to Priscilla, "Don't worry dear. Don't cry. I'm sure Trevor will sort things out. They probably just want money and he's insured." Although I'm afraid your pretty young body, your big blue eyes and your blonde curls may prove too much of a temptation to Al the groper and his buddies, she thought. The teenager said nothing.
Sophie strained to hear what was going on outside the van. She heard one of the men say, "But we don't want a ransom, Trevor. So don't keep offering to pay if we let you go."
Trevor's reply was too quiet to hear.
"Hands behind your back. That's good."
Sophie could hear Trevor's voice, high-pitched and tremulous pleading with the men. His words were cut short and another, harsher, voice said."You don't get it do you, Trevor? We don't want your fucking hot money. Just a chat, your labor and the use of your lovely young wife and step-daughter for a while." The door slid open and Trevor was bundled into the van. His hands were cuffed behind his back. His thin brown hair was ruffled and his glasses were askew on his thin bony nose. He looked gray and ten years older than his forty two years.
The kidnapper who had threatened Trevor with a revolver leaned through the door.
"Make yourselves comfortable. We have a long drive after we pick up Al and before your new life begins," he said, with a cruel laugh. He closed the door leaving the three McNevilles in darkness.
Al stubbed out his cigarette in the sand-filled tin ashtray and turned to his diminutive bed-mate.
"Time for one last fuck, Mrs McNeville. Get to it."
Sophie sighed inwardly and reached for the big man's thick flaccid cock with one hand and his hairy heavily-weighted scrotum with the other. As she massaged Al's still slimy prong she whispered, "What do you mean, 'one last fuck', Al?"
"The holiday is over. In the morning we leave this place. Go back to our jobs, to our wives and families. Return to the 'Real World'. Respectability. You and Priscilla and Trevor become mere memories. This year's escapade. Another adventure into unbridled lust and crime successfully concluded. So one last fuck before I get some shut eye is what I mean. What did you think I meant?"
Sophie felt his thick cock start to grow in her hand. You know what I meant. Are you going to kill me now or hand me to the executioners later? she thought.
"What happens to us? " she said. "Do Ben and Doug take us into the forest or do you drop us into the lake wrapped in chains? You hinted at another solution. Can you save us?"
"Rub it on your cunt, Mrs McNeville. Up and down your tender twat. You like that, don't you?"
Sophie did, and despised herself for doing so. She turned towards Al and used his thick and growing erection to stroke her overstimulated sex and excite her tender clitoris. Al grunted with satisfaction. She still had no real idea who he was. He always called her "Mrs McNeville" no matter what perverse sexual act he was forcing her to perform. She thought he was a professional. Perhaps they were all part of some sort of government security agency. That could account for their confidence that they could get away with abduction, rape and probably murder.
As she felt Al's penis stiffen once again, she moaned in affected ecstacy and spread her legs ready for his inevitable penetration.
The journey to their unknown destination had taken several hours. The van stopped after twenty minutes or so to pick up Al from the hire firm where he rented the limmo. Conversation was difficult in the back of the van and Sophie soon tired of Priscilla's tearful forebodings and her husband's angry rants. The McNevilles were let out twice during the drive and uncuffed so they could relieve themselves. Once they were able to use a closed service station with a washroom still in working order and once they were led to the bushes behind a lay-by in the foothills. Their captors urinated along side them. Sophie observed that the three young men were well endowed—cocks gushing like fire-hoses, she thought—a fact they called attention to by mocking the size of Trevor's fear-shrunken member.
Priscilla's eyes were big and round. The pistol-carrying abductor waved his fat cock at her and asked the young woman if she wanted to suck it now. Priscilla blushed and looked at the ground. Trevor started to abuse the man and was slapped into silence.
The journey continued. The van's engine labored as the gradients became steeper. Sophie reckoned they were well into the mountains before they stopped. When the van finally arrived at their destination the sun was almost setting behind the surrounding peaks some still showing snow in their high gullies despite it being high summer. The setting sun painted a golden path across the still waters of a long narrow lake.
The van pulled into a shed that stood by a rickety looking jetty. A dusty ancient public telephone box leaned against the shed. An old wooden cabin cruiser was moored to the jetty. The engine was running. A fourth man climbed out of the boat and greeted them cheerfully. He had short dark hair and a spade beard. He wore jeans and a polo-necked sweater. Like the others he looked like a fit thirty year old.
"Let's see what you've got," he said as he helped the three captives out of the van.
"Very nice," he said as he examined Sophie and Priscilla. "Well spotted, Al. You were right, a mother-daughter combo for you, Ben and me—Charlie—and a playmate for Douglas. Right?"
A, B, C, and D, thought Sophie, wincing, as Charlie squeezed her tits and patted her bottom. Code names, not real. Priscilla gave a squeal when Charlie gave her the same treatment.
"Hey," said the smallest of the captors. "I'm not gay. Just because occasionally I..." He paused. "If I my memory serves me right, last year it was Charlie who taught the farmer's boy how to deep-throat and Ben who made him squeal like a piglet over his mother's knee."
"Yeah, yeah," said Charlie. "Get them into the boat with the rest of the gear we want to be tied up on the island before dark."
'Mother-daughter combo', thought Sophie with a shudder. My god, do they think we're fast food! And we've been talent spotted. By Al. In an effort to stop herself thinking about the implications of the phrase, Sophie tried to commit the abductors' descriptions to memory. Ben, not as tall as Al and slimmer. Roughly the same age ... thirtyish or younger. Quietly spoken, soft southern accent, blond, blue eyes, ring on wedding finger, same as Douglas the pistol carrier. He is short but fit and quick to move, dark hair and eyes. All of them well educated, well-heeled and, judging by what I've seen so far, well-hung. So what's the connection?
The women were made to kick their shoes off as they boarded the old style wooden craft and all three captives were bundled into the saloon. Douglas joined them as the other men transferred the boxes and bags from the van into the stern of the launch. There were sports-bags and sacks of groceries as well as ice boxes and several crates of drink transferred from the van. Sophie noted fishing rods, nets and a gaff as well as two gun cases. It looks like a camping trip, she thought. But no wives. In which case it's clear what they want us for. She felt Douglas' eyes on her. He and Trevor were sitting opposite her and Priscilla. The abductor's black trousers were tented at the crotch.
As the boat pulled away from the jetty, Douglas leant forward and unbuttoned the top button of Sophie's dress. She tried to pull away but there was little room to maneuver and she bumped her head on a shelf behind her. Douglas chuckled to see her hat knocked forward at an angle and undid the second button.
Trevor turned on Douglas and screamed at him to, "Stop molesting my wife." Douglas hit him behind the ear and Trevor fell in an unconscious heap to the cabin floor. The assailant leaned forward again and undid two more buttons before using both hands to force the top of Sophie's dress off her shoulders and half-way down her arms.
"What are you up to?" called Charlie from where he stood at the wheel. Ben put his head into the saloon.
"Doug is rummaging in mom's chest," said Ben with heavy humor. "And mighty fine goods he's found there..."
Doug said nothing as he undid Sophie's front-fastening bra and peeled the soft material clear of her firm round tits.
"They natural?" he asked but didn't wait for an answer before finding out. He stroked both breasts quite gently and hardly brushed her plump brown nipples with his finger tips before sitting back and regarding the two women. "Very nice," he said. "Big enough to tit-fuck without being too big." He turned his attention to Priscilla. "What about you, honey? You look to be about the same size as your mom. Your tits a good big mouthful?"
"Leave her alone, please," begged Sophie as Douglas reached for the top button of Priscilla's dress."She's still just a kid."
"No way, lady," he grinned as he carried on exposing the teenager's bosom. "There's only two of you and there's four of us, all eager to shed some middle-class inhibitions. Like you, she'll be fucked until her ears fly off. Hey. They're nearly as big as your mom's. But with little itty-bitty pink nipples," he said stroking Priscilla's exposed breasts.
"Please don't," sobbed Priscilla. "Stop."
But he didn't stop and continued to fondle both mother and daughter's tits for the rest of the voyage to Snake Island.
Charlie, who seemed to be in charge, soon had the boat unloaded and everyone, including the captives, detailed to carry supplies and equipment to the cabin. The low log-built structure lay a few hundred paces away from the jetty and a small boathouse. It took several trips to empty the boat and stack the goods to Charlie's satisfaction. Sophie saw from the veranda that surrounded the cabin that it sat on one end of a narrow wooded island. She thought some of the tall pine trees must have supplied the building material for the cabin which was spacious enough, with a large central room and a bedroom for each of the men and some to spare.
Sophie and Priscilla were shown into a room which contained a big metal-framed bed, two wooden crates and a sturdy wooden kitchen chair. They had carried their holiday suitcases from the boat and sat on the bed when they were told to wait. Trevor was taken by Douglas to the kitchen. His ankles were shackled to a three foot metal bar and his right leg chained to an iron ring set into the concrete floor. The kitchen was separate from the main building, presumably as a precaution against fire. The floor was concrete and the kitchen had a stone built chimney for its wood fired oven and grill. Douglas ignored Trevor's protests and told him to get the fire going—an easy task seeing the grate was laid with kindling and dry wood.
After a while during which time neither woman spoke Sophie and her daughter were brought into the main room of the cabin by Al. Although their dresses were still partially unbuttoned and bras undone they had managed to cover their breasts. Despite the roughness of the journey both women had somehow managed to keep their hats on. Ben, Charlie and Douglas were sitting in well upholstered leather chairs around the newly lit open fire. Sophie saw the men were drinking and a half empty bottle of Johnnie Walker Black Label sat on the large coffee table in front of the fire. The light was beginning to fade and two pressure lamps had been lit casting a warm yellow glow onto the table.
Charlie spoke first. "Take the cuffs off, Al. They're not going anywhere."
While Al did as he was told Charlie continued. "You two cunts are here for our pleasure. You're going to do whatever we tell you to do. No 'ifs', no 'buts'. In the next few days you're going to get fucked every which way. So get used to the idea. If you're very good and show us all a good time we'll maybe let you go when we've done. Do you understand?"
Neither woman spoke.
"I said, 'do you understand'. So answer me, or do I have to smack some tail?"
Sophie quickly spoke up. "I understand. Listen, I guess you're looking for a bit of fun away from the little wife who might not approve of some of the things guys like to get up to in the woods. Is that right?"
She swallowed. None of the men answered.
"That's okay." Sophie gabbled. "I don't like it but I guess I've had the bad luck to be caught. But my daughter here is only a kid, just turned eighteen. So leave her out of your plans. Please. I can give you anything you want. Willingly. With pleasure."
"Nah," said Charlie. "There are four of us and we're nasty bastards. You'd never last the distance."
"Please," said Sophie. "Try me. I'll do anything you want. With pleasure. I promise. Just leave her alone."
"That's a fine thing to promise but somehow I doubt you could accept what we are going to do to you 'with pleasure', Mrs McNeville," said Al quietly.
"Try me," said Sophie,"I mean what I say," She was wondering desperately how she could keep their attention. "Just watch!"
She hopped onto the table in front of the fire. It was a solid wooden piece of furniture about six feet long and three broad. Sophie hoped it would make a convenient stage for her performance. Al rescued the whisky bottle and his glass from the corner of the table. Sophie started to strip. She rolled her hips as she slowly, unfastened one button at a time, the front of her linen dress.
"Mother..." protested Priscilla. Ben caught her arm and pulled the young woman onto his lap.
"Be quiet, kid, let her do her stuff," he said, slipping his hand inside the teenager's dress and cupping her left tit. "She won't stop us fucking you and you might learn a trick or two."
Sophie continued her striptease. She bent forward to undo the last button. Her breasts swung free, barely concealed by her unfastened bra. She stood, still gyrating at the hips, and let the linen dress fall down her arms and body to drop at her bare feet on the wooden table. She kicked it onto the floor. Slowly she removed the bra then began to massage her breasts. She teased her brown nipples and began to affect signs of sexual arousal. She panted, eyes half closed, as her fingers stroked and pulled at the soft meat. Her tongue flickered out to caress each swollen nipple.
Priscilla could not believe what she was seeing. She felt Ben's cock grow and press against the soft curve of her buttocks. His grasp of her bosom tightened.
Sophie rolled down her cotton panties and exposed a neatly trimmed ash-blonde bush. Sophie's hands explored the cleft between her legs. Her panting grew quicker and noisier. She stepped out of her panties and quickly used the flimsy garment like a towel to rub up and down her sex. The soft material parted her labia. Sophie gave every appearance of masturbating to a climax. The sexual tension in the room grew.
Al was the first to move. Perhaps he had a signal from Charlie who was almost as quick. In a flash Al had grabbed Sophie around the hips and lowered her, none too gently, onto her back across the coffee table. Charlie took Sophie's head. He knelt and pulled off her hat and at the same time unzipped his jeans to free his rapidly swelling cock. Al pulled down his pants and thrust his cock into her cunt in one strong push but Sophie had no time to react to his thick member before Charlie was feeding his longer, slightly thinner, cock into her mouth and down her throat. As Charlie's balls touched the bridge of Sophie's nose he withdrew far enough to let her take a breath before sliding into her again and again...
"She's got two hands free," said Charlie to Ben and Doug. Ben laughed and shook his head. "Nah," he said. "We'll use the other pussy." He stood up and as he did so he ripped Priscilla's dress open and pulled it from her back. The young woman staggered and fell on her knees across the table next to where her mother was struggling to cope with Al and Charlie. Doug pounced on her head but Priscilla fought him furiously. She was unable to prevent Ben from pulling her panties off.
"Handcuff the little bitch, will ya?" snarled Doug, tossing Priscilla's hat away.
"Cuff her yourself, buddy," said Ben undoing his belt and pulling his slacks down."Or tie her wrists with her bra. Her little virgin asshole has been begging for ten inches of hot cock since mom started to strip. Ain't that so, cunt?"
Without waiting for a reply Ben proceeded to force the tip of his erection into what was indeed a virgin ass. At first the young woman didn't know what was happening but as Ben forced his rigid member into her she realized she was being buggered and it hurt. She began to scream and didn't stop until Doug had managed to cuff her hands behind her back and pushed his fat cock into her mouth with a fierce threat that he would maim her if he felt teeth.
From the corner of her eye Sophie witnessed Ben ruthlessly sodomize her daughter and saw Doug succeed in brutally force Priscilla to fellate him. Sophie could do nothing to stop them. As Charlie and Al eagerly slaked their lust on her naked body Sophie realized her attempt to divert the men's attention from her daughter had been a catastrophic failure. She wept.