On the shelf beneath the television was a video player and a wide selection of tapes. There were no labels on any of them, so she picked one at random and loaded the machine. The screen cleared of snow and she sat back to watch whatever had been recorded.
The first frames jumped and appeared jumbled before settling down to show a windswept garage forecourt sporting two Land Rovers, half a plough and a decrepit bus missing a back wheel. The camera panned back to rest on old, green painted doors, that juddered open as the camera zoomed in. As the lens struggled with the poor light, the amateur cameraman walked unsteadily inside the garage workshop to concentrate on a heavy metal plate that covered the engineering pit.
In the sudden glare of bright arc lamps an invisible force pulled the plate slowly away, and in the background could be heard the ominous thump of doors closing.
This was no prerecorded film, nor was it the run of the mill home made video. Her rapidly unsettled stomach told her to switch it off, her curiosity said otherwise. Through an emotional cocktail of fear and excitement, she felt compelled to watch.
The pit gave up its secret in the form of two young women who blinked gratefully up into the beams of bright camera lights. There was a look of hope on the girls faces, a sort of grateful thanks as if they'd finally been discovered in the jungle, rescued from the pot as the hungry natives polished the cutlery. When their eyes had grown accustomed to the glare the look fell away suddenly, to be replaced by alarm.
"Please," whined the girl with the long coal black hair. "I have to go home. Let me go home."
She pushed herself into the corner of the pit, forcing the other girl in front of her.
"Get the cry baby up," ordered a voice from behind the camera. "We'll do her first."
A black hand reached down and grabbed the girl's arm, pulling her sobbing out of the pit. As the other girl looked out in panic the metal plate again slid across the hole. Her face followed the closing light as if she was gasping her last breath of air.
They tied the chosen girl's hands with bungee rope then took her across to the far wall where several nails and hooks protruded from the brick work.
"Nail her up H," said a voice Susan thought was familiar.
The black man turned the girl to face the camera then lifted her arms up to tie her wrists on a hook in the wall.
"Let's have a look at the cry baby's cunt," said the cameraman, who Susan now recognised to be Jack, the man who had kidnapped her. The girl began shaking her head from side to side and pleading to be released, but the black man laughed and lifted up her clothes. She wore a flimsy floral patterned dress, very short and shiny, made out of satin or something similar, and a pair of knee length black suede boots. Her friend in the pit was dressed much the same, except her short shoestring strapped dress was electric orange.
"Get her flaps out," laughed Jack, enjoying the situation immensely. "I think this one needs a lesson in growing up."
Black hands tugged her pretty flower-painted panties down to her knees, exposing a thick pubic bush, quite out of character with her small frame.
"Hairy little bitch aren't you?" said H. "How can I find your twat in all that fur." Her eyes closed and body stiffened as his hands began searching between her legs.
"Here she is!" the black man laughed. "Get a shot of this."
While the young girl begged them to leave her alone Jack must have rushed forward with the camera to film her now widely split cunt. H fingered her for a moment then suggested getting the other girl out of the pit to watch. Jack agreed, but thought it would be better to let the baby watch first.
"That way," he said. "She can see what's going to happen to her."
The other girl was brought up. Her first sight was of her friend tied against the wall, her knickers visible beneath the hem of her dress.
"What have they done, Tan?" she cried out. "The bastards! What have they done?"
"That's her name, is it, Tania?"
The girl nodded.
"Tania what?"
"Willows," she sobbed. "Tania Willows. I have to be in college tomorrow, please, I won't say anything, I'll…"
"Well Tania," said H calmly, his hand reaching behind the girl to feel her bottom. "When we've finished with your friend, we'll Tania backside."
The girl's head dropped at the sick joke, while her friend was dragged into a circle made from the back seats of old cars. Jack and H sat opposite each other while the girl was made to stand in the middle. Each man held an extended car aerial which they occasionally used to swipe the air, reminding the girl of the consequence of any disobedience.
"I sense a bit more spirit in this one," said Jack. "She should be a bit of fun."
H lifted the girl's dress with the tip of the car aerial to reveal a tiny luminous orange G-string. He let out an appreciative whistle. "This one likes a bit of fun alright. She was after a good fucking. Weren't you?"
The girl said nothing and knocked the aerial away with her hand.
"Oooh!" The two men laughed. "Naughty!"
Against the wall, floral pantied Tania whimpered. When H heard the pitiful sobs he called across to her. "Cry baby!" he teased. "You want to watch this, pick up a few pointers. When we've finished here we're coming to get you. Going to teach you it's dangerous hitching lifts after a night out."
The girl screwed her eyes tightly shut and shook her head, hoping it was all a bad dream. In the circle, Cora was about to feel the bite of the aerial.
"Lift the dress," ordered Jack.
"Fuck off!" she replied bravely.
Sssswheee. The aerial sliced through the air and whipped across the taut backside, making the girl leap skywards. The light dress and G-string afforded no protection.
"You can take it right off now," Jack told her.
"Piss off."
The second and third stroke landed almost simultaneously, one from each man. Pain screamed across the young girl's bottom and no amount of frantic rubbing would make it go away.
"Strip."
Cora gripped the hem of her dress and began lifting it slowly.
"I bet you love this don't you?" she said, tears welling. "Stripping young girls."
Both men smiled up at her.
"You bet your fucking life we do," they answered in unison.
The electric orange dress rose, revealing three thin red stripes on the cheeks of Cora's bottom. She lifted the garment over her short black hair and dropped it on the floor.
"No bra either," said H, admiring her well toned flesh. "Little G-string, bouncy titties. You were right up for it, you dirty bitch." He leant forward and slipped the tip of the aerial inside the front of the G-string, easing the material away from her body. Her clean shaven split made him gasp with delight.
"You really are full of surprises," he told her, rising from his seat. Her defiance, her well shaped tits and smooth slat had aroused him to the point of no return. Standing in knee length boots and minuscule knickers, her skin like alabaster, she epitomised youthful health and vitality. He, and now Jack who had also risen from his seat, could hold back no longer.
"Get over on the seat," said H, unbuckling his belt. "I'm going to give you what you've been asking for."
The girl turned quietly towards the place they'd indicated then suddenly broke into a run, cleared the seat with one leap and sprinted for the doors.
"Run Cora!" screamed Tania, seeing her friend's break for freedom. "Run!"
The men made no attempt at a chase. Instead they removed their trousers, watching the girl frantically tugging at the old green doors. It was a game they often played, letting the girls try to escape before bringing them back to face their future.
When they were ready, Jack went to her right and H to the left. She saw them coming and began tugging violently at the doors, kicking and cursing them. The men were in no hurry, they had fastened the doors carefully and knew there was no way out. Cora had realised that too. She stood with her back against the door, hand outstretched.
"Please," she begged. "Not me! Not me!"
H grabbed her just as she made to get away. Picking her up from behind he carried her back to the circle and pushed her down on her hands and knees.
"I don't want to," she cried as the black man pushed her forwards, her face and shoulders pressing into the old car seat. Despairingly, Tania pleaded too, but it wasn't going to help her friend. The flimsy G-string was pulled from her body, making way for the fat black cock that was probing along those gorgeous thighs.
"No!" she begged. "Not me… ahh!" She felt the tip nudging at her entrance, seeking her out. "Ahh! No!" Already it felt massive, squeezing its way inside. Fat and bullying. Soon she was impaled, run through with solid cock. Thumping cock, out and in, thumping, thumping, thumping.
Against the wall Tania pleaded once more for them to let her friend go. To stop what they were doing. "Just stop such dirty things and leave us be."
As she called out support to the rudely fucked Cora, Jack came across. She looked at her friend, a thick black cock driving in and out of her, then looked at Jack, Cora's bottom juddering against the heavy pounding meted by the black man's hips, then looked at Jack. She noted the lust in his eyes, sensed the unquenchable desire in his body, then saw the angry red prick against his belly, solid and upright and desperate for release.
He marched across, stopped square in front of her and wrenched up her dress.
"I won't struggle," whimpered the terrified Tania. "Just don't hurt me. I'll do anything you say."
Jack pulled the dress higher and pushed the material into her mouth.
"Bite it!"
She did as he said, keeping the garment out of his way while he ripped the pretty panties away. When he had finished with them he pushed her bra over her tiny tits then took hold of the back of her knees. Getting between her thighs he lifted her legs and thrust his prick inside the still tethered body.
Her hands tied to the hook in the wall, her dress in her mouth, legs off the floor, Jack began his urgent thrusts, building rapidly into a frantic almost frenzied fuck, his hands kneading the tiny mounds that were her breasts.
For the next hour Susan watched the video as Jack and Hell Raiser took it in turns with the two women. Occasionally they would have two on one girl and sometimes, in the way of a change, they would make the girls have sex with each other. One on her back, the other, arse in the air, licking the spunk from her friends well soiled hole, or if one of the men felt inclined, holes. When it was all clean, they were changed around. The licked becoming the licker. Afterwards, the girls were led back to the pit wearing only their knee length boots, both with sore twats, and Tania sporting a very red bottom after H had carried out his promise and tanned it good and hard with his belt while the unfortunate girl was tied face first against the wall.
Susan remained oddly detached from the young girls' predicament. She had been placed on too many different cocks to get sentimental over two girls simply being put through their paces by two Drivers. No, she had been fucked by Jack, and no doubt later she would be by H, she had been fucked by Lincoln, had the skin almost leathered off her arse by Bingo and been fucked by half the bikers in Yorkshire. When Tania and Cora had been ridden as hard and as often as that, then, maybe, only then, she might feel sorry for them. They had a lot to learn.
The tape came to an end and began rewinding automatically. As she waited for it to finish Susan wandered over to the fridge in search of some food. Expecting to find it empty she was amazed at what was in there. Not only had he left various yoghurts and sandwiches, but bottles of ice cold Budweiser filled one complete shelf. She took one back to the settee and chose another video. As she expected it was another tape of H and his mates fucking various women. She watched a few minutes before stopping the tape and trying another. By and large they were all the same, so it wouldn't be long before she found herself in a remake of Deep Throat or Indecent Proposal. Though in her version, she suspected Robert Redford would get his end away for a lot less than a million dollars.
With only Hell Raisers' constantly pounding hips for company Susan found the beer a great comfort. By mid-afternoon she'd got through several bottles and was sitting on the toilet watching another video of him fucking a middle aged woman in his cab, when he entered the room.
"Don't get up," he joked, going to the fridge and taking a Bud for himself.
Despite the beer she felt quite nervous. After watching him screwing dozens of different girls all afternoon she knew there was nothing he wouldn't do to her. All she could do was rely on her wits and be prepared to do his bidding. As she had told herself earlier when watching Tania and friend, you may as well do it the first time, as be made to do it after a leathering.
Her pee finished she rose and pulled up the thong he had told her to wear, thankful she had left the underwear on, even though it was very tight.
"Come here," he said, in a quiet firm tone. "Enjoy yourself?"
"Yes," said Susan. "Very much. And thanks for the food and the beer."
He motioned for her to turn around so he could undo the belt that connected her to the loop in the floor.
"I always look after my girls. As long as they are good, they've got nothing to worry about. Let me look at you."
She did as he said, remaining in front of him so he could examine her body.
"Your make-up needs fixing," he told her. "Go and do it."
She went straight to the shower area and checked in the mirror. Her spiky hair was still stiff but her eye shadow was smudged. Urgently she searched the drawers for more cosmetics and began repairing her looks.
"So, now you know what I like?"
She licked the tip of a tissue and wiped away some stray lip stick.
"You like to be sucked, especially on the tip. And you like to give it to a girl doggy fashion." She looked back at him over one shoulder. "And you're not too careful which tunnel you drill."
H let out a broad laugh and pointed to a chair opposite. She sat in it, back upright, legs together.
"And what if I want my end sucked now?"
She smiled seductively. "Then you would get it."
"And back door access?"
"Whatever," she cooed. "Whenever."
"How about now?"
Susan rose from the chair, turned her back to him and pulled the thong to one side. Then she knelt up on the seat and pushed back her bottom, her thick sex lips squashed between her curved thighs.
In a moment he had removed all his clothes but made no attempt to go over to her. Instead he dropped down onto the settee and beckoned to her. When she stood by the side of him he lifted one leg, leaving her in no doubt that his semi-turgid prick required her attention. She leant forward and slipped the black member between her lips, running her tongue around it before beginning the familiar bobbing of the head that signified a cock firm enough to fuck a willing mouth.
"Underneath!"
Susan withdrew his prick from her mouth before slipping her tongue along its length to seek out his balls. She felt his fine pouch hairs brush her face as her tongue travelled over the tight straining sac in search of his anus, finding its salty bud with the tip. The sweat from a day's work mingled with a myriad other odours while the powerful flavours of his arse assailed her delicate tongue.
"Keep going," he instructed, wallowing in the sensations of the skilful tongue reaming him. The more obvious reaction to such feelings were to hold the woman's head in place, but that denied control, and control was what the black man was exercising. Susan would have to keep at her task until he removed her from it. He knew that, and from her actions so did she. He dropped his head over the arm of the settee, allowing her wet probing muscle to pleasure him further.
She was good!
Almost too late he realised his spunk was half way up his rod. A few more flicks of her tongue and he was going to fire the lot.
"That's enough," he said. "Sit in the chair."
She stopped on command and returned to the seat, adopting the same posture as before. He pulled himself up on one elbow and with his free hand began slowly pumping his meat. Sweat bubbled on his brow and his breath became irregular.
"Legs up."
She complied.
"Knees apart."
Her swollen lips were split by the thong's thin leather lace as she slipped down in the chair.
"Nice," he said in a low whisper. "You know what you're going to get, don't you?"
Susan nodded.
"Take off the underwear."
She folded the tiny garments as best she could and placed them on a small black coffee table.
"Kneel."
He rose and towered above her, his bloated cock inches from her face, the black painted lips complementing the dark skin of the shaft. She considered kissing it, but if he hadn't said it was better to wait.
The black man stepped back and admired her perfectly smooth mons, the puffy sex bags clearly visible below it. Susan didn't have large tits, but they were firm and well shaped and he stepped forward to take a handful of the creamy flesh. His large hands pulled at her breasts while powerful fingers gripped each nipple, pinching and squeezing them, leaving her in no doubt that it wasn't a matter of giving but of taking.
"On the settee," he ordered. "Arse up, face down."
She'd seen enough of him in action to realise this was going to be it. Climbing on the settee she assumed the position for fucking. He didn't join her straight away. He pulled a hidden lever and the settee folded down to form a bed, then he climbed behind her and positioned himself between her legs, opening wide the cheeks of her bottom.
He licked his finger and dipped it into her cunt, undecided what to do first. She was welcoming and wet and he felt her push back against his probing digit. Just when she thought he had chosen, he pushed another finger in her arse. Unprepared for it, the intrusion made her jump. That was a mistake. Noting the impressive length and girth of his cock she had endeavoured to keep him out of her backside and up the right tube. That involuntary nervous tremor would have told him that, and, she knew from experience, making the girl pay was what made these men tick.
The tap of blunt cock against her bum hole confirmed her fears. There was no protection against his invasion. The tight sphincter began to give as the black pole squeezed its way slowly inside, his bullying glans forcing a yelp as her arse muscle gave way to its entry.
Susan pushed her face into the leather and bit it and grimaced. Her body shook in time to the pounding from his hips and she steadied herself for the flood. It wasn't long in coming. Withdrawing quickly he took great delight in holding up her legs and watching the cum leak from her bottom. After that he had her clean him up with her tongue, ready for the rest of the night.
Within half an hour he had plugged every orifice in her luscious body before taking time out to rest. She had surpassed his expectations, been willing and eager. That kind of obedience required reward, and as soon as he recovered he would give it to her, again and again. He pointed to his slippery prick, gleaming with juice from both bodies.
She smiled and dipped her head.
Her obedience was total.
Susan awoke in the early hours to the gentle touch of his hand running softly the length of her back and onto her bottom. He continued his caresses while she lay in a semi-trance-like sleep. He had kept her on her back or knees for several hours, impaled on his impressive prick until, unable to stand it any longer, she had succumbed to exhaustion.
Apart from the initial arse fucking at the beginning, it had not really been unpleasant. She rolled over onto her back like a puppy hoping to have its tummy rubbed. He obliged with tender hands that lightly caressed her breasts then moved gently down to her soft nude split.
"Thirsty?"
Susan nodded and he jumped from the bed to go to the fridge. Taking two bottles of Budweiser over to the patio windows he sat on the floor and motioned for her to join him. The room was lit by a dimmed spotlight that reflected in the glass. Outside it was pitch dark, although a few lights sparkled like diamonds on a velvet cloth across the other side of the valley.
Looking at the distant lights, Susan couldn't help thinking of happy families. Children full of cocoa and wrapped in flannelette pyjamas tucked up in bed, husbands and wives watching the late night movie curled up on the settee, the dying coals fading in the hearth. For a fleeting moment in her life it had all seemed so possible. But that was before her dreams had faded in a cloud of diesel on that lonely road.
She let out a deep sigh.
"I just thought there was no-one else out there."
Looking out into the night the black man drank from his bottle.
"There isn't," he said calmly. "Not for you." He got up and opened the patio door, the chill night air rushing in to raise her nipples with an icy tingle.
"Are you going to keep me?"
"Depends."
"On what?"
"On how well you please me. Or until something better comes along."
From her treatment so far Susan felt he was the best Driver she had been with. It was better the devil you knew than the one you didn't. She was obviously going to have to do her utmost to keep him happy.
"It's getting cold." He closed the door and went back to the television where he searched for a video.
"Did I please you tonight?" she asked, walking across and sitting on the bed. "I'll try harder if I didn't."
"You did well," he told her, pressing the play button on the video machine. Picking up the chain and belt he tethered her to the loop then went to the corridor as if to leave. Stopping at the entrance he turned and pointed to the TV.
"In case you should stop doing well," he said. "You should watch some more of these."
So she chose another, at random, steadied her hand and slipped it into the machine. A glimpse of bare buttocks momentarily appeared before the picture broke up to be replaced by the start of a different movie. It had a title that left little to the imagination, 'Wonderfully Whipping Wendy'. For amusement someone had added the Doris Day song 'The Deadwood Stage', repeating the lines 'whip crack away, whip crack away, whip crack away,' over and over again.
The swirling mist parted to allow the passage of a large articulated lorry along the narrow moorland road. Strapped to the gleaming steel front grill of the wagon was a naked young woman. Her wrists were tied to the mirrors, her ankles to the bumper, a hood covered her head. The wagon thundered into a roadside lay-by that looked out across the desolate moor joining several other trucks already there. Doubtless they had been called to the spot by the Drivers call on the CB radio – Susan's imagination filled in and amplified the story as it unfolded on the screen, making a narrative of it for herself, creating thoughts and wishes for the people who flickered to life there -
"Drivers to the 'Devil's Pulpit'. GP at ten."
The Devils Pulpit was the code name they used for the quiet spot on the moors and, as the unfortunate young woman was about to find out for the first time, GP was their term for general punishment.
If she had known what was in store for her perhaps she wouldn't have been so slow in dropping her panties. But then again, when she climbed up into that wagon that morning all she wanted was a free lift home. The wagon had hardly travelled ten miles when the Driver asked her if she was prepared to pay for the ride.
"I've no money," she said.
"Then we shall find another way for you to pay."
The girl had taken plenty of lifts and they always wanted something, well one thing really, sex. She had got so fed up with fending off unwanted advances that she tried to choose her lifts carefully. She had thought this lift would be the safest of all. She could not have been further from the truth.
As the wagon ground to a halt the group of Drivers in the 'Pulpit' gathered around the shrinking body secured to the grill. A few of them commented on the goose pimples that her exposure had produced. One or two ran a hand round her and played with her straining nipples. Others worked their hands in a more secret place. Suddenly the group parted as the Driver and now, since this morning, the poor creature's owner jumped from the cab.
"The girl is freezing," commented one unusually concerned Driver.
"Don't worry, I'll soon warm her up."
For the first time the camera moved to the Driver. It rested on the the heavy canvas strap and followed it up to reveal the Driver to be a woman!
Susan was shocked. She had been put through so much she thought nothing else could bother her. But this, her own sex turning on another, capturing and enslaving another female in the name of pleasure?
The woman Driver motioned the others to stand back then flicked the strap along the ground. The heavy haulage canvas looked small in her hand. She was a big woman. As big as a man, and bigger than some. Her massive tits rested on a belly accustomed to a transport cafe diet and her appetite at least equalled that of her male counterparts. In some areas it exceeded it, including the need for sex.
"This young thing," she proclaimed. "Refused to drop her panties in payment for her lift."
She traced her finger up the crease of the tethered girl's bottom. "And they were such tiny ones too. Hardly covered a thing. I would show them to you but I was forced to put them in her mouth to keep her quiet. I can't stand a whimpering bitch."
Beneath the hood the girl could hear everything that was going on. She couldn't however see or speak. All she could do was listen to the terrifying words of the woman she had trusted. The woman who had the strength of a man and had used it to strip her naked.
"Take down your panties I told her. No, she said, I won't."
There was a murmur of disapproval among the men.
"Take them down, or I'll take them down for you. But she still refused. You know what I had to do?"
The others remained silent as an expectant air descended. One or two were undoing their belts and some were fidgeting in their pockets trying to make rapidly stiffening cocks more comfortable.
"I had to pull over on the Blackmoor road. I had to pull up her skirt and take them down for myself. I had to strip her, take off her top, her bra, her shoes. Strip her down totally. If there is one thing I can't stand it's an ungrateful hiker. Well now it is time to pay."
The hiker, unable to see the strap in her owner's hand was unprepared for its gritty kiss. The canvas left a wide red stripe across her bottom, its sting intensified by the cold. The second stroke landed on taught cheeks as did the third, fourth and fifth. The girl no longer felt the cold, only the heat of a throbbing backside. Her humiliation was increased when her hood was removed and her face uncovered for all to see. Several men walked around to see the girl's features, contorted with the pain from the lashing she had just received.
As the pain ebbed her features revealed a pretty young woman, with black shoulder length hair now matted with sweat. Her sherry brown eyes appealed for pity. They received none. The men moved forward and a dozen hands roamed freely over the bound body. Some rubbed their swollen cocks against any part of her skin they could reach.
"Get back!" shouted the woman Driver. "I haven't finished yet. "You'll get your turn."
As the men moved away from the hiker she noticed a line of spunk across the girls bottom.
"Christ almighty!" she shouted. "Can't you lot wait?"
A great cry of "No!" greeted her words.
"Well you'll just have to. When I've finished her punishment there will be an obedience display. Then you can have your fun."
There was a loud cheer and the woman leant across her captive and spoke into her ear. As she did so her hand rubbed the anonymously fired spunk into the glowing cheeks of the hikers bum. She ordered one of the watching Drivers to untie the hiker's ankles and she proceeded to untie her wrists.
"Hold her," she cried, and handed the exhausted girl to a nearby Driver. To another man she asked for a hand preparing the bumper. As the hiker, whose name they discovered was Cherry, was kept on her feet, Karen, the Driver, unclipped one end of the lorry's bumper and pulled it away from the cab.
The bumper now stretched out from the lorry like a huge silver lance. To support the end furthest away from the truck, a metal bar was wedged underneath it. Once that was complete Cherry was made to sit upon the cold metal, her legs pulled out to the side and pegged to the ground and her hands tied, one in front of her, the other behind. She was unable to support herself in this position and her entire weight was brought to bear on her naked crotch.
"Will you give me a hand Jack?" asked Karen. "I want both sides done."
Susan hadn't noticed Jack in the crowd until now. The man stepped forward and smiled broadly before picking up a second strap that Karen had thrown on the ground.
"Anything to oblige," he grinned.
"Then you had better come round to this side. It's her tits I'm after."
The others formed a circle around the helpless girl, who was already writhing against the discomfort of her cunt crushed upon the steel bar. The whipping began. Jack lashed her first. One stroke that landed soundly across Cherry's back to be followed almost immediately by a vicious slap of canvas on her right breast.
Pain forced her to buck and reel as stroke after stroke fell upon her body. There was nowhere to hide from its evil touch, her skin was aflame with each burning lash and her twat ached with the pain as she ground it onto the bar frantically trying to escape.
"Enough!" shouted Karen and Jack landed one more for good measure.
The knickers used to gag Cherry's mouth were drenched in saliva where the girl had screamed in vain for release. Karen barked out yet another order.
"Strap her down, along the bar."
The hand secured behind Cherry's back was released and brought in front of her, then both hands were tied further along the bumper, bending her over until her body lay flat along the cold steel.
"Seeing that Jack helped me, I'll let him ride her once before I take her back to the cab. The rest of you can wait."
There was surprisingly little grumbling about the deal. The other Drivers were enjoying the show anyway, and each knew he would take his turn on the unfortunate girl.
Jack threw one leg across the bar and brought his rigid cock down parallel to it. Whether it was the sweat from having to ride the bumper or the beating she'd just endured, Cherry's sheath was well oiled. Slipping his cock deeper inside the girl he considered the possibility that she had enjoyed it. Many of them did.
Oblivious to his cheering audience Jack pounded away at the girl, a tit in each hand for balance. As he neared the final strokes he leant forward and pulled the knickers from her mouth. Immediately she screamed.
"Please!" she begged. "Please, no more! I will do whatever you want. I just can't bear any more." As she finished her words her body juddered with the force of Jack's sperm delivering thrusts.
Cherry was untied and helped up into the cabin of Karen's rig. The hands beneath her bottom pulled open her cheeks and a cheer lifted at the sight of Jacks emission seeping from her abused hole. Once inside, the door slammed shut and the men outside clambered onto the bonnet and sides of the rig to watch whatever Karen held in store.
To Cherry's horror Karen lay naked on the bunk in the cab. One arm supported her massive tits. The other lifted her belly in order that Cherry could see her cunt.
"Lick it!" ordered Karen. "Get your tongue deep inside until I say stop."
With the cheeks of her bottom pressed against the side window so that Jack's cum smeared the glass, Cherry dipped her head between Karen's massive thighs and poked out her tongue. The Drivers' hot sweaty crack smelled and tasted like she'd been sitting on it for a week.
The excitement of beating her new possession had already brought the big woman off in her knickers and the creamy sex fluid had greased her fat swollen flaps. The chilly glass on Cherry's rear end had done little to cool her burning skin and stood as a suitable prompt to keep at her task, no matter how tangy the big woman's liquid tasted. As she lapped away Karen was quick to remind her not to forget her clit.
She dug her heel into Cherry's already sore bottom. "And get that tongue in good and deep."
The girl's tongue brought Karen to a second orgasm and the big woman released her from her task. She had another already planned! When Cherry lifted her head she was confronted with a huge dildo and told to give Karen a good fucking with it. She did as Karen instructed, easing the huge phallus up her mistresses cunt and fucking her with it in slow powerful strokes. As she did it Karen held up her tits for Cherry to suck on.
"Get used to it babe," she said, stroking Cherry's hair. "I like my girls to be nice to me. When you've finished, I'm gonna be nice to you."
The big Driver was true to her word. Once Cherry had satisfied her she turned the girl around and repaid the compliment. With the same huge dildo. As she worked it up her new young possession she couldn't help but add:
"This will make you a bit more accommodating for the lads. Some of them are very well hung."
From what she saw on the rest of the video, Susan considered it a kind act. Some of the men were as big as Karen had made out. One in particular, had a cock thicker than H's and his was certainly massive, as she had just found out.
The tape finished and Susan removed it from the machine to replace in the pile. There were dozens more, including the one H had told her to watch. Unable to face that one yet she picked up another.
She recognised the location straight away as Jimmy's, the main Headquarters for the Drivers and the place Jack had passed her over to Lincoln. The opening scene showed Bingo at Jimmy's garage, standing in the central island next to the fuel pumps. He was fooling around and playing up to the camera like the moron he was. Susan hated Bingo because of the way he had treated her. Daily beatings, sometimes several times a day was all she had known when she was with him. Most of the men used the whippings to keep the girls in line. To remind them of their place should they do or say something above their station. Bingo though, dished out spankings for nothing but his own pleasure, sometimes taking an entire shift off work in order to mete out his belt for the whole day. She was glad to be shot of him.
Bingo continued his clowning when the doors of the old hangar swung open behind him. It was H and his friend Jack. Each was pulling a car seat attached to a low trolley and each trolley ran on two small barrow wheels. The camera followed them across to a fence where Tania and Cora stood tethered to a post by a leather bridle.
They were the two girls Susan had watched in the first film, so obviously they had failed to secure any release and, like her, their future looked forever intertwined with the Drivers. Around each girls waist was a heavy belt to which cuffs were attached at the sides. The girls wrists were held firmly in these cuffs keeping their hands near their bottoms. Apart from these accoutrements the girls remained unhampered by clothing.
The men positioned the girls in order to attach the trolleys to buckles in the waist belts. That done, they backed the girls away from the fence and took up their place in the seat on the trolleys, or as they preferred to call them, the chariots. From a thin pipe welded on to each chariot the men took a long thin aerial and whipped it across the girls' backsides, sending them into an immediate sprint.
Like the ancient Greek races in the Hippodrome the two charioteers raced around the oval island that held the fuel pumps, spurring on their chargers with the liberal use of the aerial.
Tania had obviously overcome the shyness she displayed in the first film as she led the race by a good ten feet or so. It was probably the extra attention the men had given her on account of her timidness that had toughened her up. Whatever the reason Cora had better make up the deficit because the loser was bound to be in line for some sort of punishment.
From the effort evident on the girls' faces each one knew it, and friendship had given way to preservation. The race lasted five laps before the girls were pulled up alongside Bingo.
Susan assumed Tania had won but that wasn't the case.
"Refuel!" shouted H.
It was here that Bingo came into his own. He removed a handle from one of the fuel pumps, stretched across the back of Cora and forced the tip of the pump inside her bottom. Susan grew alarmed at the consequences of Bingo's actions but the girl hardly flinched. Sure Cora registered the intrusion by stamping her feet and lifting her head but she remained remarkably unperturbed at the thought of petrol pouring up her arsehole. After what seemed like ages Bingo finally removed the pump and a great arc of liquid squirted from Cora's rear end.
Thankfully the men had converted a pump to dispense water and the girls had already been through the fear of cremation. The races it would seem were a frequent event.
"Right then! My favourite filly. That should lighten you up for the next race. You had better put in a lot more effort."
The two girls were brought together, Cora on the inside, Tania on the outside.
"Ready, set, go," shouted Bingo.
The flash of flailing aerials sent the girls on their way. The lighter Cora flew into the lead, where she remained for the rest of the race. This resulted in Tania receiving the same treatment which Cora had endured after the earlier contest. She failed to accommodate the pump quite as bravely as her friend had done and Jack had to chastise her several times with the whip before she would stand firm and accept entry of the nozzle.
"No handicap," said H.
Jack laughed and nodded. "Both fillies the same weight. One race each. Do you fancy fifty on the decider?"
H agreed and the money was handed to Bingo to hold. Both girls were brought level once more, Cora once more on the inside as H had won the toss for the shorter lane. It did of course mean he had the tighter corners but firm use of the whip would see him through to a victorious finish.
The race was off and both girls were neck and neck going into the last lap. At the final bend Cora opened up a head lead but then disaster. Her bare foot struck a pebble and she stumbled and fell allowing Tania to race past to victory.
Jack was ecstatic and laughed loudly as he took the winnings out of Bingo's hand. H took the defeat with grace and to Cora's surprise as well as Susan's he restrained from using the whip on his fallen filly.
"Here," laughed Jack. "Have a beer." He threw a tin to Bingo, H and whoever was behind the camera. Then, still harnessed to the chariots, the girls were lead across to a stone trough to drink. They dipped their heads in the cool, crisp water that ran straight into the trough from off the moors. Their thirst satisfied the girls threw back their sodden hair to send an arc of crystal water to cool their perspiring bodies.
"Keep them warm," H shouted across to Bingo. "We don't want them getting stiff."
Jack added. "That's for us to be."
The girls remained near the water while Bingo rubbed them down with a soft chamois leather, massaging their skin to a healthy shine. With a bridle lead in each hand he lead the two back to the race track.
"It's not over yet." He told them with great amusement. "It's the time trials next. One filly, one jockey."
"Let Cora ride first," said H.
The bridle and harness were removed from Cora and she took her place in the seat. Gripping Tania's reigns firmly she eased her friend up to the starting line.
"Two laps," said Jack. "The quickest time wins." He set his stopwatch and signalled ready.
"Go!"
Tania stumbled right at the start but regained her footing and clawed back the lost time. After much cheering from the men and encouragement from Cora, Tania came home in a time of one minute forty. She remained in her harness while Bingo made a note of her time, then H announced a second chance for her to improve her score. Panting heavily Tania was again led to the start line where go was announced with a hard slap on her flanks. Despite her efforts she took almost two minutes to complete the circuits.
H was not pleased.
"The worst time ever." He pulled Cora from the chariot and got her into the bridle and harness ready to take her turn. Out of her harnessing Tania took her turn in the chariot. As she was easing Cora up to the start line H shouted to her that the loser was in for a hard time. Tania registered his warning and took a firm hold of the reigns.
"Go!"
Cora was slow away and even slower around the track. No matter how much Tania shook the reigns her friend hardly broke out of a trot. Tania was in no doubt as to the reason. If she failed to beat Cora's time it would be she who felt the sting of the aerial. She couldn't allow that. She brought Cora up to a halt at the finish line.
"Two minutes ten!" shouted H. "Even worse than the last one."
Tania was fully aware of what would happen to her if Cora's time did not improve. She rose from the chariot."Pass me the nozzle," she said to Bingo. "I think Cora's low on fuel."
The men looked at each other surprised and pleased. Bingo handed her the pump handle and took hold of the reigns while Tania applied the nozzle to her friends rear end, ensuring the metal pipe was good and deep.
"Fill her up!"
Bingo did as the girl said and when the pipe was removed the water spurted out as if it had come from a hose. Tania took the aerial whip from its holder and gave Cora's right flank a taste of what to expect should her efforts not improve.
"Ready?" asked H, excited at the turn of events.
"Ready," answered Tania through gritted teeth.
"Go."
Another stroke from the whip hit Cora's bottom as the words entered her ears, sending the girl out at a fair pace. It wasn't fast enough for Tania. Crack! the whip fell again, and when Cora failed to respond it fell again and then twice more before she broke into a run. It was becoming a battle of the wills. Cora needed to go slow enough to make her own time the fastest while Tania obviously required the opposite.
The only way Tania could achieve her goal was to show her one time friend that the beating she was getting now would be less than that given by the men. Emphasising her point she landed the whip twice more before the first lap was finished. Then she really got into her swing. As she entered the second lap her single strokes became doubles and then trebles and then one continuous lashing.
The only way Cora could possibly stop the beating was to get to the finishing line as quick as possible.
"One minute twenty five!"
Cora slumped to the floor her chest heaving and her legs so wobbly they failed to keep her up. On the chariot Tania let out a whoop of victory as she realised she had escaped the whip.
"Get her up!" ordered H.
Tania jumped from her chariot and went to Cora who was still panting on the ground. Taking hold of the bridle she yanked the girl up on to her feet.
"Take her to the fence post."
Still gripping the reigns like a stable girl guiding the horse to the winners enclosure she led Cora across to the post.
"You bitch," Cora whispered. "Why?"
"Simple. It was you or me."
"I'll get you for this. Just wait for the next races."
Tania tied the bridle to the post and unhitched the chariot.
"Here," said H, throwing across a fully extended aerial. "You can do the honours. Twenty strokes."
The men all took another beer and sat on the chariots to watch.
"And don't hold back," Jack warned. "Or you'll find yourself at the post instead of her."
Susan grimaced almost as much as poor Cora as each venomous stroke landed on the poor girl's flesh. Unable to ease up on the power of each stroke Tania did her best to land the whip on a different spot each time. Unfortunately with so many strokes ordered it became more difficult as the beating continued. By the time it was over Cora's bottom looked like she'd sat on a grill and for good measure Bingo added the imprint of his hand as well.