Sinful Deceit (29 page)

"No!" I
screamed as my eye of my bottom suddenly yielded. I was sure that
my arsehole had torn open as my pelvic cavity inflated with the
rock-hard penises and invading fingers. The juices of my cunt
spurting over my inner thighs, my head lifted by my hair, another
erect cock drove deep into my gasping mouth. Fingers entering my
pussy, massaging the walls of my cunt, I moaned through my nose as
someone pulled and twisted my sensitive nipples.

Trembling as
the three cocks fucked me, I wondered whether Donna would stumble
across the gang bang and fall prey to the wicked men. Heavy balls
pressing against my chin, a swollen knob driven to the back of my
throat, my lips hugged the base of the huge organ. I could barely
breath as the cock repeatedly withdrew and rammed into my wet
mouth. I could taste sperm and a tang of urine as I breathed in the
scent of the man's pubic curls. Would they piss on me once they'd
finished using me?

My mouth
flooding with spunk as the man gasped, my clitoris exploded in
orgasm. Shockwaves of sexual bliss transmitting deep into my
contracting womb, my naked body alive, I drank from the knob
fucking my mouth until I'd drained the man's balls. All three men
finally slowing their fucking rhythm, gasping in the aftermath of
their coming, they finally withdrew their deflating members.
Rolling to one side as the fingers slipped out of my sated cunt, I
lay on my back on the hot sand panting for breath.

"We'd better
go before someone comes looking for the slut," one of the men
breathed fearfully.

"I'll put the
things in the boat," another said. "And we'll get the fuck out of
here."

"Take me with
you," I gasped, spitting sperm from my mouth.

"You must be
joking!" someone laughed.

"Please, you
must..."

"What, and
have you cry rape?"

"No, no I
won't. Let me explain."

"For fuck's
sake, let's go!" another called, pushing the boat out. "Leave the
slag there and get in the fucking boat!"

"Please take
me with you!" I cried, dragging my aching body up and staggering
towards the boat. "Drop me off at any island; just get me away from
here!"

"No way."

"I've been
stranded here for weeks. Please, you can't leave me here to
die!"

Stranded?" one
echoed, standing before me. "What do you mean?"

"This island
is deserted. I've been stranded here without a boat and..."

"Are you
coming or what?" a man called as the others clambered into the
boat.

"Please, don't
leave me!"

"I... I have
to," he said, turning to his friends as they called again. "I have
to go."

"Please! I'll
die!"

Running
through the water, he leaped into the boat as the outboard engine
burst into life. Dropping to my knees, I watched as the boat grew
smaller with distance, leaving a white trail in its wake. That was
it, my last chance gone. Turning, I looked at the trees and decided
to hide in the undergrowth like a hunted animal. It was only a
matter of time before I was found and returned to the villa to take
my punishment. It was only a matter of time before I was returned
to my life of sexual slavery. And when Reece got his vile hands on
me...

Flopping to
the ground beneath the trees, I lay my head on a patch of grass and
closed my eyes. I fell into a deep sleep. Dreams of Sharon haunted
me. Dreams of her vaginal lips, shaved, smooth, tasting of her
juices. In my dreams I saw David fucking her arse, sliding his
erect cock in and out of her bottom as she giggled and writhed. She
was unfaithful to me. David was a bastard.

Exhausted,
completely drained, I must have slept for hours. When I woke dusk
was falling. I had to spend the night in the wood, I knew as I
climbed to my feet and walked across the warm sand towards the
lapping water. At least no one had caught up with me, I reflected,
cooling my feet in the dark waters.

Reclining,
submerging my naked body, I looked up at the stars. My hair
floating, I wondered whether Sharon was looking at the stars.
Perhaps she was lying on her back beneath the night sky - with
David fucking her. Perhaps David was lying on the ocean floor, the
stony stare of his grey eyes forever transfixed on the rippling
surface of the sea high above him.

Shuddering at
the thought, I ran my fingers through my hair, washing away the
spunk and piss and sweat of debased sex. Resting my head on the
sand in the shallow water, the calm sea whispering to me, I
wondered where Donna had gone. Had she tried to swim to her
freedom? Perhaps the cruel sea had taken her. Had she joined David
in his watery grave? Or was she back at the villa laughing and
drinking with her accomplices? Almost falling asleep to the sound
of the lapping water, I leaped to my feet and looked about me.

There was a
light, a small light shimmering on the horizon. Was it coming from
another island? I wondered. It blinked, on and off, on and off at
irregular intervals. It was a boat, I was sure as I gazed through
the dark at the twinkling light. A boat bobbing up and down in the
distance. A fishing boat? I pondered. If only they knew that I was
standing on the shore praying to be rescued. If only.

Walking up the
beach, I sat on the sand and watched the light. It was growing
bigger, I was sure as I strained my eyes and peered through the
darkness. The flickering less frequent, the light brighter, the
boat was heading towards me. But there'd be no way I could attract
attention. Shrouded in the dark, all I could do was call out once
the boat was nearer. But the engine would drown my cries, and the
sea would drown my chance of freedom.

The minutes
passed and the light grew bigger. I could hear the distant
throbbing of an engine. Was it Reece? I wondered, leaping to my
feet. Or one of the men out looking for me? The boat was heading
for the shore, not passing the island, and I wondered whether to
run for it. Dashing into the bushes, I crouched and watched. If I
fled, I might miss the chance of being rescued. If I hung around...
"Shit," I breathed, not knowing what to do as the engine stopped
and the boat grounded in the shallow water.

A figure
jumped out of the boat and waded towards the beach. In the dark, I
couldn't determine whether it was a man or a woman, let alone who
it was. The figure stood motionless for a few minutes and then
walked along the shoreline. Eyeing the boat, I wondered whether I'd
be able to push it out to sea and start the engine before whoever
it was came back. The figure melted into the dark and disappeared.
Now was my chance.

Running across
the soft sand, I waded through the water and tried to push the
boat. It was stuck in the sand and wouldn't move. My hands shaking,
I looked at the beach but couldn't see anyone. Pushing the boat
again, I grinned at it slipped off the sand and drifted away from
me. The water splashing as I chased after it and tried to clamber
aboard, I was sure that the owner would come running. Finally
managing to climb over the side, I lay still on the boards,
listening, wondering.

Sitting at the
wheel, I couldn't see what I was doing and felt around for a key or
button to start the engine. Silently cursing as the boat gently
rocked, I came across what felt like a switch and flicked it. A
light coming on at the top of the mast, I flicked the switch again
but I was too late. A man was shouting, the water splashing as he
dashed towards his boat. I found a button and pressed it. The
engine burst into life and throbbed, the boat began to move.

"Fuck," I
breathed, turning the wheel as the boat headed for the shore. The
man reached the side, shouting and swearing as he began to climb
aboard. He grabbed me from behind, his wet hands gripping my wrists
and pulling my arms behind my back. I didn't struggle as he turned
me round to face him. There was no point in putting up a fight, I
knew as he swore at me and called me a fucking whore.

"What the fuck
do you think you're doing?" the man asked as he released me.
"Trying to steal my fucking boat..."

"Who are you?"
I panted, brushing my hair away from my face.

"Don't you
recognize me? I was on the beach earlier with the others. For
fuck's sake. I come back here to rescue you and you try to leave me
stranded on the fucking island."

"I'm sorry," I
gasped, realizing that he was the one who had hesitated when the
others were leaving. "I thought you were... Do you have anything I
could put on? I'm getting cold."

"No, I don't,"
he replied irritably. "I'll take you to the island I'm staying on.
I have a place on the beach, there are some clothes there."

Sitting down,
I held onto the side of the boat as we moved off. Freedom at last,
I reflected, wondering whether this was another trick as we headed
out to sea. This was no trick. The man had obviously found some
sympathy in his heart after gang raping me. Gang raped, mouth
fucked, arse fucked, cunt fucked, spermed... But that was all
behind me now. All I could think was that freedom lay ahead.

Listening to
the sound of the engine, the sea air blowing through my wet hair, I
couldn't stop smiling. I'd have to go to the British Embassy, and
the police. But first, I wanted to linger in a hot bath and find
some decent clothes to veil my aching limbs. A drink, a good meal,
a rest... I'd get to see Sharon again after all. I'd love her, lust
her. And as for David...

"OK," the man
said as we finally arrived, my naked body jolting as we bumped into
the jetty. "My place is straight up the path. You go on while I
moor the boat." Clambering onto the jetty, I followed the moonlit
path to a white building. With potted plants dotted around the
patio and towels hanging on a makeshift washing line, it looked
like a holiday home. I wondered where the man had come from. He
could have been English, I pondered as I opened the door and walked
into an airy lounge, but he had a slight accent. Wherever he was
from he was my knight in shining armour, despite what he'd done to
me.

"I'll find you
something to put on," he said as he entered the room and closed the
door. He was wearing shorts and a white T-shirt, his muscular body
bronzed by the Greek sun. Recalling him mouth fucking me, I
wondered why he'd had a change of heart. Perhaps even the wicked
have a streak of goodness in them. Apart from the likes of Reece
and his accomplices.

"Like a
drink?" he asked, wandering into the kitchen. "I've only got
beer."

"That's fine,"
I replied, sitting on the sofa. "Are you on holiday?"

"Yes," he
smiled, returning with two cold cans of lager. "So, tell me all
about yourself, what you were doing stranded on that island."

"It's a long
story," I began as he sat in an armchair opposite me.

"We thought
you were a native of the island. When you came up to us with
nothing on, we assumed you wanted..."

"Yes, I
understand," I interrupted him, realizing that any man would have
done the same in his position. "I suppose I asked for it by walking
around naked." My thinking had changed. I believed that it really
was my fault. In my nakedness, was I asking for it again? "You said
you'd find something for me to wear."

"Yes, I will
in a minute. Are you from England?"

"Yes, I am.
And you?"

"England,
originally," he brushed his dark hair back with his fingers. "I've
lived and worked in Italy for ten years now."

"Do you have a
phone?" I asked, suddenly realizing I should call my mother.

"No, I don't.
We're lucky to have electricity on the island, let alone a
telephone."

"I'll put
something on and then go to the police station. I have to
report..."

"There's no
police station here," he interrupted me with a chuckle. "In fact,
there's sod all on this island. In the morning, I'll take you to
the neighbouring island. That's where I get my supplies from.
There's a police station there. And a few shops and a
telephone."

"Could you
take me there tonight?" I asked hopefully.

"There's not
enough fuel in the boat. I've enough to get there but I won't be
able to get back. I'll fill up when they're open in the morning.
You'll have to spend the night here, I'm afraid."

"OK," I
sighed, wondering how safe I'd be spending the night there. "Where
are your friends?" I asked fearfully.

"Don't worry,
they're not here," he smiled. "I'll go and find something for you
to wear."

As he left the
room I reclined on the sofa. My nakedness didn't bother me. I'd
been used to displaying myself. I'd been subjected to so much
nothing bothered me any more. Once back in England I'd have to try
to find some kind of normality. I'd have to try to get into a
routine, make new friends and even find another job. A fresh start
was what I needed. Unless Sharon... A fresh start with Sharon.

I decided not
to tell my mother what I'd been through, or Sharon. No one need
know what horrendous sexual ordeals I'd had to endure. It certainly
wasn't worth telling the newspapers. The last thing I wanted was
publicity. If David was around, then I'd have nothing to do with
him. Perhaps I could pick up where I'd left off, I mused. Carry on
as if nothing had happened. But I doubted I could pretend what I'd
endured hadn't happened. My mother would realize I'd changed.
Sharon would know something had happened while I was away.

"This is all I
have," the young man said as he entered the room clutching a pair
of shorts and a T-shirt. "I'm Gary, by the way."

"Kirsty," I
smiled, standing up and taking the clothes.

"So what
happened, exactly?"

"I thought I
was going to stay with an uncle," I began, veiling the inflamed
crack of my vagina with the shorts. "It turned out that the man
wasn't my uncle. He'd enticed me to the island, to his villa.
Dozens of men had sex with me. And two girls."