[darkstalker]

He can hear the men coming up from their romp in the forest. That big oversized gorilla, Brett, with his precious Sylvia.
Roger flicks his wrist, shaving off a piece of wood from the stick he is sharpening. He glances at Todd and Jed who give him worried looks. They’re whispering among themselves. Fuck em,’ thinks Roger. Soon he’ll have his precious Sylvia back to himself and no one will have a word to say about it.
He strips another length of wood from the stick and stands up, heading towards the duo in the woods.
Coming upon the two he rounds on Dennis. “You said you’d be quick! You took well over an hour!”
“Hey! I was taking my fucking turn! Lay off.” Dennis holds his hands up, trying to push Roger back.
“Now listen here, you fat...”
He feels Brett’s mammoth grip on him and turns to stare at the giant’s beady eyes boring into him.
“I’m not afraid of you, Brett,” he says with a sneer.
“Yeah, that’s cuz you’re a crazy fuck. Anyways... here’s what’s left of the slut. Have your go at her. But if you kill her, it’s on you. Not us. Come on Dennis, let’s leave the nut before he does her in.”
“Yeah...” says Dennis, giving Roger a long glance before heading away.
“Fuck em,” hisses roger. “Fuck em’ both.”
He turns and looks at his Sylvia, her long brown hair plastered to her skin, her body covered in a thick coating of sweat. She’s breathing heavily, her nice tits heaving up and down with each breath. “Please...” she whispers. “Let me... go...”
“So...” says Roger, looking down at the hapless woman and turning the pointed edge of his stick down against her cunt, grinding it between her open, soggy lips. “You don’t want to fuck?”
“No....” she whimpers. “Please.... let me go...”
She doesn’t beat at the branch, barely moves. Flaccid as a doll, he thinks. But as reluctant as one, leaving his dick limp.
“Stupid... bitch!” he says, bringing the branch down across her breasts. She yelps in shock. “Stupid... fucking... whore!” Each word is enunciated with the branch coming down across her chest, each blow harder then the last.
“Do you think I don’t know what you are? Huh!” He grabs her braid, lifting her up by it and jerking her head around. “You stupid... fucking... whore!”
The branch cracks against her face several times, leaving torn wounds across her cheeks and smashing her nose in. She is sobbing hysterically. “Why?” she begs. “Why?”
“Why?” growls Roger throwing her back against the ground. “Why?!”
He kicks her beneath the ribs, making her cough violently. “Why?!” Again, another blow beneath her ribs, followed by a third. Claire curls up in a ball, hugging herself tightly.
“You... stupid bitch!” he says, bringing his boot down against her shoulder. There is a crack as something dislocates and Claire shrieks. She is balling now, the pain in her shoulder bringing a new fire to her body.
He kicks her in the chest, and Claire continues to protest. Her wails filling the air around him. “Shut up you whore!” he says, bringing blow upon blow down upon her prone body. “Shut up!”
Claire cries loudly, trying to avoid screaming, but unable to. She tries to stand slightly and crawl away only to be kicked back down and then the impromptu rod coming down on her back and shoulders again and again. Each smack sounding roughly with the sound of her flesh.
Roger looks down at his Sylvia, now curled up again in a ball. Whimpering softly against herself. There is blood dripping down his branch from the numerous tears he’s caused across her back, but he doesn’t notice.
“You’re a stupid bitch Sylvia,” he whispers walking around her. “A fucking whore. All you had to do was fuck a few times and you would have been alright. We could have gotten rid of any bastard child you had. But noooo.... you had to go crying to your mother. And she brought the police on this!”
He kicks her against the chest once more, causing blood and bile to be heaved up. Claire coughs violently against the floor.
“Twenty.. Fucking ... years!” yells Roger, kicking her again and again. “Twenty fucking years cuz you couldn’t get you’re fucking trap shut!”
Claire is breathing shallowly. Some of her ribs have now broken and she stares at nothing, her heart pumping rapidly in her chest.
“All because of this!” says Roger, jerking her right leg up and spreading it wide so her quivering vagina is staring at him. “All cuz of your damned cunt hole!”
He slams the rod twice against her swollen labia. She yelps, but is otherwise silent, trying more to breathe then pay attention to what Roger says. “Tell me,” says Roger, lifting the pointed end of the branch towards her most sensitive area. “Did any of those damned cocks feel like this?”
He jams the branch into her pussy, wiggling it back and forth and pulls it out slowly, the blood dripping from it. “Yeah,” he says. “I’m sure it felt just like that.”
Claire doesn’t answer. She felt something tear when he jammed the sharpened wood into her pussy. “Fucking whore,” growls Roger, throwing off his clothes and pulling down his pants. “Fucking whore,” he whispers again.
He grips her hair, pulling her up part way as he positions himself next to her bloody labia. “Going to fuck you good, little Sylvia. Fuck you like none of those bastards could do.”
He jams his cock into her battered pussy and Claire winces in pain. “Going to fuck you like you’re meant to be fucked,” he says, jerking his rod into her twice with sharp thrust. “Show you what your old man can do.”
He grips both her breast, digging his nails into the torn flesh and humps her, slapping her hips roughly. The squelch of his balls hitting against her labia, smacking against the leaking blood barely makes Claire flinch. Her body is a searing cauldron of fire now and the last part she can think of anymore is her vagina.
Though Roger humps her just as savagely as the men before him Claire barely lets out a moan, her breath simply coming out in ragged gasp.
“That’s right, Sylvia,” says Roger, almost cooing. “Let daddy do the work. It’ll be alright.”
He leans down and runs his slimy tongue over her torn cheek. Claire shivers slightly and the old man grins. He continues to thrust in and out of her with quick rhythmic strokes.
“You like this, don’t you, Sylvia? Being pumped by five men while hiking out here? You really are a cum whore. I can feel how wet you are.”
But Claire is beyond answering. The wetness around Roger’s hips being from her blood rather then her body’s lubrication. He continues to thrust into her savagely, pressing his sweaty body down against her as he starts to pump faster.
“I’m cumming!” he yells. “Cumming!”
And he gives one final thrust, cumming inside her bloody bowels. He falls upon her, panting heavily and rest there for five minutes. Claire doesn’t move, her eyes focusing on nothing as her body is moving into shock.
“That was good Sylvia. You done good girl.”
She does not respond, her breathing light and soft.
“Aren’t you going to say anything?” says Roger, standing up. But Claire doesn’t move, say a word or even moan. “Fuck you then,” says Roger, spitting down on her hips. “You always were a cold bitch. Just like your fucking mother.”
Claire can vaguely hear him moving away, though her senses are fading. Staring out into the woods, her eyes blinking, a single tear slides down her bloody cheek. The moon shines brightly upon her still body and the engine dies away as the truck with its volatile crew drifts off into the distance. In the night air, a wolf howls and the final breath leaves Claire’s body as her vision fades into nothingness.




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well, i hope you enjoyed this story. we'll see what I bring up next time.