Julies Destiny Run
Caution: This BDSM Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Mult, NonConsensual, Reluctant, Rape, Coercion, Heterosexual, Fiction, BDSM, MaleDom, Rough, Humiliation, Sadistic, Torture, Snuff, Group Sex, Oral Sex, Anal Sex, Masturbation, Bestiality, Voyeurism, Double Penetration,
Desc: BDSM Sex Story: Chapter 1 - This story was co-written by 'Julie' herself; though the fantasies depicted are not necessarily those she would choose for herself, she is deeply submissive and will no-doubt confess her collaboration to her true master at some juncture; earning herself a severe caning. The tale is a sweet quest for freedom, to reach a loved one, but overshadowed by the submissive's inherrent desire to be caught and punished. Those offended by torture, bestiality, and snuff should refrain from reading.
A savage wind blew across the heights of the release station, high above the tracking ground. Today's was a female session and those chosen to run had been arriving since dawn. Bound and squirming, whimpering through their gags; they were dragged from the relative warmth of the floor of the carriages in which they'd been packed like sardines, to a cold preparation area which looked down across the mixed terrain of mountain slopes, deep forest and plains. As the women were brutally torn from their bonds, the cameras scanned each 'contestant' as they emerged naked and shivering from their bondage; flecks of snow melting on skin of many complexions; the stark temperature and fear making nipples universally erect and hard. The howling wind through the bluff behind them matched only by the howls of several women, foolish enough to have sustained leg injuries; either accidentally or by design, hung in various positions on the ever crowding square. These women were of no use for the purpose, non-runners were viciously tormented, flayed alive with barbed whips to encourage good sport from the others. The guards looked on with wicked smiles as the victim's blood spilled cherry-red upon the thin snow. The naked females trembling with fear as they were bundled past them to the preparation zone.
Julie was blinded by the dazzling wintry light as the sacking was ripped from her head. Could she have seen it before it was torn away, she would have noticed a bright red circle painted on the face of her hood, marking her out as the special case. When she was released out of the carriage, she was kept slightly apart from the other women for the release—she was too shocked and scared by what was happening to notice the special treatment. A burly guard wrenched the gag from her, and slapped her face for good measure. Julie's face stung bright red in the cutting wind, whipping through the square. Two grinning accomplices eagerly cut the remaining bonds from her, and helped themselves to handfuls of her flesh as they squeezed her ass cheeks and breasts, as they checked her legs for visual injuries.
Most contestants were selected for their size and fitness—the women in the plaza with Julie were all statuesque Amazons by comparison to her. Most were close to six feet tall; several were over that height and had the bodies of Olympic athletes. Indeed, most were selected precisely for the physical characteristics that would make them entertaining runners and durable captures. Julie, by contrast, was just a shade under 5'3"—she seemed to stand a head or more shorter than the rest. Her round, supple form belied more resilience than it suggested at first glance. She was limber and durable in her own way. Proportionately she had full breasts and a round ass but built on a seemingly smaller scale than the other women and certainly tinier than any of the usual participants. As her tormentors sent dirty fingers scrabbling about her body, she wondered, not for the first time, why she had been selected for this event. What had she done to deserve it? She had been a dutiful and quiet citizen, ever since the disappearance of her beloved months before as a male runner in precisely this event. Her sorrow had been deep and inconsolable. Then this. Brought from her reverie, Julie screamed in agony as a six foot four guard thrashed her cheeks with a leather crop, helping her to move quickly forward and confirm her legs were able. He smiled as he watched her pert bottom glow with the strokes and wobble invitingly as she jumped forward. He wrapped his huge hairy arm under her crotch and fingered her pussy and anus before pushed her forward with the other arrivals. As he sniffed and licked his fingers, his cock stiffened nicely; he hoped he would be with the pack lucky enough to catch that one. She was special prey, not to be mortally compromised, but there was nothing in the hunters' instructions to prevent them from using her till she dropped like a rag. These endless gropings and fingerings of the various captors and guards pushing the runners along never seemed to stop and Julie never became inured to their horrid probings—each violation was a fresh assault on her innocent sensibilities and tears slowly streamed from her eyes, not for the first and certainly not the last time.
As the women were whipped forward to the preparation site, they were paraded past some of the tools of pursuit which would be used to hunt them down; the girl in front of Julie broke down with fear as they went past a caged pack of bull mastiffs. She was whipped as a golden trail of urine ran down her legs; the dogs barked and bayed all the more; their large fetid penises wagged as they bayed and sniffed the female scent. The guards laughed and held some of the screaming women close to the cage as the huge hounds stood on hind legs, displaying vicious teeth along with their erect canine phalli. Tiny Julie quailed in terror at the mastiffs snarling behind the bars as she passed. The hunting dogs all seemed as big, or bigger than she. At a mere 120 pounds, Julie was sure most of the dogs outweighed her by at least a stone. Julie's pussy tingled with fear and an unwanted, surprising curiosity about how being mounted by the huge hounds would feel. None of the slavering beasts had been neutered—she could see their full testes hanging taut behind penises as long as any man's. What would such savage beasts to do such a small runner as Julie? She knew on occasion that hunters allow their hunting dogs to rape captures. She would do her utmost to not let this happen; her lover had been part of a previous male event. He had been reported missing, presumed mutilated, but Julie and all those not part of the ruling regime knew this meant he was alive, somewhere out there in the wilderness. Somewhere between here and destiny Point; the fabled place where runners were supposedly granted freedom on reaching. As freedom was allegedly theirs, none were ever heard from again. The only thing that gave Julie any hope was the thought of her lover, somewhere outside the regime's power, living, breathing. Julie thought her own race would be over long before she could reach him. Her one burning desire was to somehow survive long enough to see him one last time. It was a slender hope and it was all she had.
Further visual torment was awarded the weeping and pitiful contestants as they were herded past a stabling area; the trembling women's heads were twisted to make sure they saw the plight of another lame female, who was openly begging for mercy, vainly crying bitter tears. She was bent over a low bench, her legs shackled apart; two guards laughed at her as they manoeuvered a huge rampant stallion over her. The panting beast's eyes flickered and its nose twitched violently as one of the men manipulated its huge pink phallus with both hands; taking great pleasure in forcing the fist-sized glans into the tightness of the screaming girl's tortured vagina. The watching women heard moans of submissive pleasure amongst her screams of pain as the muscular stallion bucked back and forth into his captive 'mare'. Masses of milky semen flooded out down the soft legs of the girl as the stallion whinnied and grunted; eyes wide with excitement as twelve to eighteen inches of the huge phallus was forced deep into the captive torso. The cries were replaced entirely by her moans as her legs went taught, her feet on tiptoe as she succumbed to a deeply submissive orgasm; her vagina close to being split by the pumping beast.
The guard holding Julie fingered her pussy as he held her in a headlock, facing the equestrian submission; he smirked as he felt her obvious excitement at the scene. Julie couldn't help but stare. The sight of the tall, muscular but lamed Amazon being raped by a stallion's giant cock terrified her even as it made her cunt wet. The shackled Amazon's every muscle was straining against taut chains as she was being torn apart by the stallion's uncontrolled spasms. The lamed runner was one of the biggest women on the grounds—at least 6'4". From her guttural, agonized screams, this tall goddess was both being torn and orgasming. Little Julie coveted this experience, but couldn't imagine how she, so much smaller and weaker than this woman, would suffer in the same position. A foot shorter, how could that giant member find its way into her? She forced her eyes away, trying to concentrate on her absent lover, his beautiful eyes, his muscular body and his lovely cock, the one that fit her perfectly, the one she had worshiped before he was torn from her.
The women were taken to the preparation hall, where they were allotted skin tight bras which held their breasts up, pert with nipples poking out as though the fibrous material had been painted on. One girl was whipped savagely by the guards for not taking enough care in fitting the bra, it ripped, allowing one breast to dangle; the material was designed to shred, leaving visual clues for the human trackers, and scented clues to aid the dogs. Julie felt a strong masculine hand cup her little cheeks; a finger hooking deeply into her anus as a sneering guard steered her to a corner where certain chosen females were fitted with brightly coloured garments. Most of the runners wore green camouflage, a handful more were given bright greens and blues to wear. The guard licked his finger and ogled Julie's sweet breasts as they were adorned in bright scarlet; she was to be given as little chance as possible of evading a painful death. Julie noticed that she was the only runner adorned in this blazing crimson. All of the bras were designed to push up the breasts and squeeze them tightly together, as if they were a cup size too small. Julie's bra was also too small—but by nearly two cup sizes. Her 34C breasts were forced into something barely large enough to count as a teen's training bra. Her breasts were crushed together, and forced pertly up, nearly halfway out of the bra. Her nipples were just barely contained beneath the lip of the fabric. Julie's bra also seemed to be made of slightly more sturdy material, though she could not have known that. Indeed, the tortures to come would denude her soon enough—her bra was meant to last just a little longer than the other runners.
They would all be dead or dying soon; Julie's torment was to go on and on. The petrified females padded across the hall in matching soft socks which would afford them next to no protection out in the harsh terrain, but once again would aid tracking as the fibres dispersed. Skin tight panties were also doled out to the frightened contestants, but were not to be worn just yet. Again, the organizers seemed to take special pleasure in marking Julie out. The other runners were given bikini-style underwear with small panels of fabric covering at least part of their ass and sex. Julie was given a tiny, crimson tear drop g-string. The string portion of this bottom was formed from tiny chains designed to resist coming off for some time. The garment was sized for her, and would fit her skin tight, stretched taut over her waxed, shaved mound.
Panties in hand, the women were taken by the guards toward an area at which other guards jostled eagerly to watch proceedings; Julie tried to shrink back in fear, as she was led again just past the cage with all the howling, snarling mastiffs. Her huge guard held her right up the edge of the cage as the pack snarled and snapped just inches from her quivering flesh. In abject fear, Julie lost control of her bladder, a fresh golden puddle forming between her legs. The guard pulled her back, laughing in triumph. A second guard dropped a rag into the pool of Julie's shame, sopping it up, and then tossing it into the cage with the mastiffs, where they silently huddled around it, taking in the scent, before devolving into a snarling pack of savages, tearing the scrap of cloth with Julie's scent on it to shreds. When the pack finished, it turned, now in silence, toward Julie. The howls and growls were replaced by low throaty sounds. Her guard whispered in her ear.
"Look at their cocks, you slut—they don't want to just tear you apart now." Julie stared in horror at the stiffening members of the pack as they prowled the cage now, eyes on Julie.
"They smell you. Not one of them will chase the others now—they drag you down first," he cackled. Julie's legs buckled in fear—her dream of seeing her lover seemed to be fading by the second. As she drew nearer, she heard the fresh cries of anguish from those in front of her, and the jeering laughter and enjoyment of the guards. Julie was close to losing control of her bladder again as she was brought to the fore. The women were being forcibly fitted with sugar based phallic plugs to their pussies and assholes. Her guard held her tight as her turn came; she would not be allowed to bolt. He whispered wickedly in her ear.
"You will know stimulation when you run. You will enjoy the chase as you orgasm, the sweet juice will run down your legs, exciting the hounds all the more. They already have your scent; combined with the melted formula you're about to get shoved up your holes, your trail will be unmistakeable to them, and they'll want more than just to tear you apart. The sugar solution contains canine pheromones, designed to increase their sexual frenzy, and it will all be focused on you. You'll be 'safe' until it has fully melted; when it's gone the dogs will be released, track you down and enjoy you." Julie whimpered and then cried in pain, as the guards roughly bent her at the waist and held her arms and legs spread tightly. For the third time, tiny Julie was singled out for special treatment. The sugar phalli rammed home in the other women were large, Julie's was even larger. She knew now the purpose of the chains on her g-string: to lock the enormous violations in place. She shrieked when the first phallus was presented to her, and then placed against her shamefully wet pussy. She didn't want to die and she certainly didn't want to feel pain, but all the torments she had gone through already and all those promised to her had made her wet; she didn't know why. She was not conscious of any urge to suffer. But her pussy juice moistened the tip of the enormous phallus lightly touching her pussy. The guard holding it took pleasure in just keeping it there. Julie tried to steel herself for the inevitable thrust; she screamed a howl of anguish when the cock was rammed fully home, filling her completely, stretching her, the tip just resting painfully against her cervix.
The anal violation was even more painful. The dildo was smaller than the vaginal probe. A guard took great pleasure in stretching Julie's ass cheeks painfully in his paws. His compatriot rested the dildo in the cleft between Julie's ass cheeks, letting her feel the weight and size of what was about to be rammed home in her. He toyed with it against her tight, un-violated asshole. Rather than ram it quickly home, he twisted it and rotated it, slowly pushing it ever deeper into Julie. Her screams reached a crescendo as she writhed to no avail in the grasp of the hulking guards holding her limbs firmly. When he was finished, Julie felt full, as if she was somehow impaled upon two giant cocks. Her ass tried to reject the penis lodged in her rectum, but before she could even muster the strength to try, a guard slapped her savagely across the face. Another took her tight chain teardrop g-string and laced it painfully into place, locking the phalli inside her, to melt and bleed her desire out on the ground in a trail for the dogs to follow. Julie squirmed in a mixture of discomfort and masochistic delight feeling the resistance of the dildos against the chains buried in her ass and cunt. The guards gave her crotch a rough fondling for good luck as she was walked to the perimeter. She was ready to run.