Manon paused for a moment, gasping for breath. The woman hung limp and sopping, but he could see that she had not fainted. Her grey eyes glistened helplessly at him from beneath auburn hair. Grinning, the frenchman walked forward, grabbed a fistful of that hair and jerked her face upwards.

“Are you ready to fuck, whore?”

Jane worked her tongue, trying vainly to produce enough moisture to spit in the bastard’s face. Her mouth and throat were too dry; all screamed out. So she contented herself by whispering three words: “Go… to… hell…”

The poacher frowned and stepped back, the belt dangling loose in his hand. Jane drew a shuddering breath and closed her eyes, waiting for the impact. Her only consolation was that Rupert wasn’t awake to see this… to see her tortured - degraded - like this. She opened her eyes and glanced over at where he lay, securely tied and still unconscious, beside the fire.

Rupert!

Manon lowered the belt and looked over at the bound man. He had followed her gaze and seen the look in her eyes. A smirk crept over his face. He knew how to convince the whore…

Jane felt a moment of relief when the poacher dropped the belt, but that feeling was quickly replaced by one of panic as he walked over to the unconscious Rupert, sliding a wicked-looking hunting knife free of its sheath. She felt her stomach turn as he bent over, jerked the unconscious englishman’s head up by his hair and placed the blade of the knife against the exposed throat. The honed metal glinted in the firelight.

She couldn’t help herself. “No…” Her voice was hoarse, rasping… “Please…”

The poacher looked at her, his eyes a pair of dead, black holes. “Your choice,” he shrugged. “Fuck like the whore you are, or he dies.”

The englishwoman felt her resistance seep away at those horrible words. She could bear the physical abuse - she had no choice - but she couldn’t allow anything to happen to Rupert.

Dear Rupert!

He had proposed to her on the voyage from England. She had told him “no”, wanting to prove herself as a scientist before becoming a wife, but she had always intended it to be a temporary refusal. Rupert had been hurt at the time, but she knew it was for the best; she would make it up to him later. But now… now it looked like Rupert might die, without ever knowing how she felt about him.

She couldn’t allow that.

She wouldn’t.

“I’ll do what you want.”

She went limp, hanging loosely by her wrists.

She was broken.

Grinning, the frenchman let go of Rupert and got to his feet. He handed his knife to one of his men and walked over to the hanging woman. Standing directly in front of her, he slipped down his pants. To her dismay, she saw that his cock was hard again, despite his having come inside her less than an hour ago.

Bracing herself, she waited to be raped.

The man just stood there, grinning at her. His teeth were bad. “You don’t understand,” he told her. “You’re the whore here; you’re going to fuck me, not the other way around.” He looked over to where his man stood over Rupert with the knife. “If I haven’t come in ten minutes - if you haven’t made me come - your man is dead.” He punctuated his remark with a light slap at her barely covered breasts. “Understand?”

Her eyes filled with tears, Jane nodded.

“Then get to it. Whore.”

Terrified by the threat, Jane began to move. Her arms were still tied high above her head, so she swung her long, naked legs around behind the man’s ass and pulled him in towards her. Grinning, the frenchman allowed himself to be pulled. Groaning with pain and humiliation, she spread her thighs and thrust her crotch at his stiff cock, trying desperately to capture it in her open pussy. It kept sliding over her crotch. Her efforts became increasingly desperate as the seconds ticked by and she was unable to get him inside her.

Finally, she looked up at him, grey eyes wide and tear-filled: “Please,” she whispered. “Oh, please…”

“Whore.”

Smirking, he reached down and positioned his cockhead against the entrance to her abused pussy. She almost groaned with relief as she pulled with her legs and felt his cock slide deep within her. It hurt a bit, but the friction was lessened by the large deposits of cum left behind by the earlier rapes. She closed her eyes for a moment, blocking out the view; the important thing was to protect Rupert!

“Let’s go, whore.” The man slapped her thigh, naked where her shirt had ridden up her back.

Swallowing her revulsion, Lady Jane Greystone started to fuck the frenchman. Using her lithe, muscular legs, she humped herself up and down on his rigid cock, careful not to let it pop loose from her pussy. Her arms began to ache, but she kept pumping. After a few minutes, the frenchman began to breath heavier. He brought up his hands and began to play with her small, firm breasts through the torn material of her shirt.

“Faster,” he ordered.

Conscious of the passing seconds, Jane obeyed. She didn’t know how much time she had left, but it couldn’t be long. Sweat dripped from her beautiful, aristocratic face as she increased the pace of her movement, sliding her now sopping pussy up and down on the frenchman’s pole.

“Uh… uh…”

His cock made loud squelching sounds as it pumped in and out of her pussy. The poacher’s men heard the sound and laughed. One of them began to imitate the sound, and a fresh wave of laughter overtook the group. The frenchman grinned. “Time’s running out,” he told her, nodding towards Rupert. “Tell me how much you like it; how you liked to be fucked. I like a foul mouthed whore.”

Jane winced at his words, but the man’s angry glance in Rupert’s direction convinced her to do what she was told. “I… uh… I like it… I like to be… uh… to be f-fucked… uh… uh…” Her moans of mock passion were interspersed with quiet grunts her drove his cock into her. “I… uh… I… love…”

The frenchman grimaced. “You’ll have to do better than that, you english whore.” He gestured to someone standing behind the bound englishwoman. “If your boyfriend’s life isn’t enough…”

CRACK!

“Ahhh!!!”

The sudden sting of the belt on her naked, sweaty ass sent the bound woman twisting and squirming in paroxysms of pain. “No… please, I like it… I like fucking… uh… fucking you… please… Ahh…” The belt landed again and again, sending waves of pain through the woman’s desperate, abused body. “Oh yes… oh yesss… fuck me… ahhh…” Desperately, she redoubled her efforts to make the poacher come, bouncing and twisting on his cock like a madwoman. As she did so, a feeling began to grow in her pussy.

“That’s a proper slut,” he panted, his prisoner’s efforts at last having an affect. “A real whore.”

“Yes… oh, yes… I’m a proper slut… a whore…”

CRACK!

Her voice rose to a scream: “Ahhh… oh please… oh god, oh god… please… uhh… please come…” All modesty forgotten, the englishwoman bucked and writhed on the man’s cock, frantically bouncing it in and out of her aching pussy while screaming like a lust crazed whore. “Please fuck me… uh… uh… oh, yes… I’m a…”

CRACK!

“…ahhh… a slut… uh… uhh… a whore…”

Against her will, she began to feel a spark of lust growing in her pussy. She fought against it, shamed to her core, but was helpless as the frenchman’s cock fanned the spark into a fire.

CRACK!

“Ahhh… oh yes… oh yes… oh god, yes…” Her passion, at first feigned, became increasingly real. Eyes closed, she imagined herself in Rupert’s arms… touching Rupert’s chest… his warm, blue eyes looking into her’s… “Oh yes… uh… uh… please… please… ahh…”

“Merde!”

It was too much for the frenchman. He gripped her thighs and jerked her captive, writhing body into his own, ramming his cock as far as possible up her sluttish, spasming pussy. With a loud groan, he stiffened and came, shooting ropes of hot, white cum into her belly. Now frantic with lust, Jane jerked her body back and forth in his bruising grip, desperately fighting to create enough friction to send her over the edge. But it was no use. As soon as he finished coming, the frenchman let go of her hips and stepped away.

Reality struck her, driving the breath from her lungs as she opened her eyes to see the poacher spit into the fire while he did up his pants. Dazed, Jane hung by her wrists, staring at the circle of black faces that surrounded her. What had happened to her? What was that… that feeling? She choked back a sob as a glob of warm cum trickled out of her pussy and dribbled down her thigh.

The frenchman grinned at her with decaying teeth. “Now, my men,” he told her. “And be a good whore.”

In seconds, the bonds on her wrists were cut and she was flat on her back beside the fire with her legs spread. One of the black men fell on top of her and, without delay, jammed his cock into her sopping pussy. Confused, she lay there for a moment, passively letting him pump his cock into her, but then the frenchman’s voice came from the darkness a few yards away: “That’s not how a whore behaves.”

She turned her head to see him crouched beside Rupert, the knife glinting in his hand.

Tears streamed down her face as she turned her attention to the man lying on top of her. Choking back her shame and revulsion, she wrapped her long legs around behind his body and began to fuck back at him, raising her hips off the ground to meet his frantic thrusts. The man laughed and brought his lips down to hers.

She closed her eyes and tried to imagine Rupert.

“Whore.”

Bringing her arms up around behind the man’s head, she opened her mouth and tasted his tongue…

Darkness.

Pain.

Light…

More pain…

Rupert Brooke slowly worked his way towards a pain-drenched half consciousness. The jumbled recollections of the last few moments before the pistol butt smashed the awareness from him tumbled chaotically through his brain: lying on his cot, thinking, as always, of Jane; the jungle going ominously silent; the shots, the screams, feeling of helpless terror as he emerged from his tent to see his men being slaughtered like…

Then another shot, close by… and a scream.

A woman’s scream.

Jane!

Turning, running, falling… and then, finally, the guttural laugh… the two black men grabbing him… a struggle… Jane… and a split panic second peripheral glimpse of the pistol butt flashing towards his temple…

Darkness…

Pain…

Rupert Brooke opened his eyes.

At first, everything was a muddled haze of colour and light as his eyes slowly adjusted to the doomed, flickering radiance of the fire. A group of black men were standing, watching something going on beside the fire. He didn’t recognize them. The attackers. What were… Stifling a groan, the bound man struggled to focus his gaze on the object of their attention.

Jane!

But what…

She was lying on the ground, well within the firelit circle of illumination. She was on her back and seemed to be naked except for the ripped cloth of a shirt which was bunched up around her upper body. A man was on top of her; a black man! He was propping himself up on his elbows while moving his hips… while he was… Brooke’s mind couldn’t comprehend, couldn’t find the words to express what was happening in front of his eyes.

Jane?

While he watched with aching eyes, the englishwoman wrapped her sweat-glistening legs around the black man and began to hump her crotch up against him, riding his cock like an experienced whore. “Ohh…” She let out a quiet moan of lust as the man increased the force of his movement. “Oh yesss… uh… lovely…” She reached around with her naked arms and pulled the man’s face down to her own. “Mmmmm…” To the englishman’s stunned senses, the kiss seemed to last forever, and the they finally broke apart, their tongues were clearly visible, entwined in the dull glow of the fire.

Jane?

“Ohhh… ah… ah… ah…”

The bound englishman watched, nauseated with horror as the two lovers orgasmed simultaneously. The black man just grunted and froze. The englishwoman let out a series of sluttish whimpers as she bucked and writhed on his cock and then stiffened with a loud cry, her back arching up off the ground. “Yesss…”

Done, the man pulled his cock out and crawled away.

Jane was given no respite. Another black man grabbed her by her thick, auburn hair, jerked her to her knees and pulled her down on top of him. The woman looked stunned for a moment, but then realized what was expected of her and melted into the man’s arms. Grimacing slightly, she reached down with experienced fingers, positioned the man’s rigid cock as she wanted it, and then slid down, slowly enveloping it in her pussy. “Ohhh… god, yes.” She paused for a moment when it was finally fully inside of her, savouring the feeling. Then, with a quiet whimper, she began to move her hips, sliding her pussy up and down on the man’s cockshaft.

“Yesss… yes… fuck me…”

Brooke felt himself - his heart - go numb as he listened to her sluttish whining. Could this be the woman he loved? The woman he’d asked to marry him? The woman who, the one time they had made love, had insisted that the room be pitch black?

“Oh yess… uh… uh… fuck me hard…”

Just as the Brooke was certain that another word would drive him mad, a second black man walked up in front of the moaning englishwoman and stuck his cock in her face. She smiled. And, by the flickering light, Brooke could plainly see the crusty, dried cum on her lips and chin. So it was no surprise when she reached up with a free hand and guided the man’s cock into her open mouth. Her whimpers became obscure moans around the black flesh of her gag, but Brooke had no difficulty identifying them for what they were: the sounds of a bitch in heat. A whore plying her trade. There was no fear, no innocence… only lust.

Unable to help himself, the englishman let out a cry of anger and despair and began to struggle in his bonds. He heard laughter behind him, and a sudden burst of pain in the back of his head sent him tumbling back into not-unwelcome darkness.

Jane…

She fought back the urge to vomit as yet another load of hot, sticky cum filled her mouth, bubbled up into her nose and over her lips and, finally, slid down her throat. She’d coughed up a load earlier, spewing it upwards all over her face and breasts. A flurry of blows with the belt as well as the ever-present threat to Rupert had spurred her to greater effort. Now, more of less numb with the seemingly endless fucking and sucking, she swallowed it down like a professional whore, all the time begging and whining for more.

She had lost count of the number of men she had satisfied with her body. Her world was a blur of firelight and shadow, sweaty black bodies and hot, white cum. And cocks… an endless supply of warm, sticky cocks for her to fondle and lick and kiss and nuzzle and rub and, always, sliding in and out of her loose, sopping pussy. The squelching sound of the cocks as she bounced and squirmed and gyrated her pussy up and down no longer disgusted her; she was merely grateful for the lubrication. The dark passion she’d felt earlier with the frenchman still fluttered and flickered occasionally, but was pretty much non-existent.

“Ahh… oh, yesss…”

The moans and whimpers had likewise become almost automatic. The men seemed to like them - to require them - so she did it. Every time a new cock slid into her, she’d squeal and let out a deep groan, like a bitch in heat. Every time a new cock was shoved into her face, she’d reach for it eagerly, moaning and whimpering in mock anticipation. And, whenever she felt the cock in her pussy start to pump cum, she’d increase the tempo of her squealing until she herself cried out in fake ecstasy.

It was what they wanted.

So she did it.

Again and…

A commotion erupted at the other side of the camp. She was so far lost in her daze of cocks and sperm and mock lust that she didn’t notice at first that something was happening. The screams… the pounding of feet as men ran back and forth in and out of the dim firelight… the cries and shouts… it wasn’t until someone actually discharged a rifle only a few yards away from where she lay fucking that the englishwoman realized that something was happening.

The man who had been fucking her pulled out, his still hard cock momentarily attached to her pussy by a long trail of cum and sweat. He tried to scramble to his feet, but something grabbed him by from behind and slammed his face down hard into the packed earth. Jane let out a scream as the large, hairy shape leaned down, twisting the man’s head and neck until there was a loud snapping sound the man ceased screaming. The hairy creature let out a triumphant cry and melted back into the shadows.

Shocked to awareness, Jane looked around the camp. Chaos reigned. She couldn’t see the frenchman, but his men were fleeing in panic, shouting and screaming at the top of their lungs as the… creatures fell upon them from the jungle shadows. In her confused state, it took her a few moments to realize what they were.

Her apes.

The subjects of her experiment.

Her proto-humans.

But what… what were they doing? They’d never acted like this before. They had seemed so peaceful… so docile. Jane stared, wide-eyed as one of her docile, peaceful creatures wrapped its long, muscular arms around a poacher’s chest and sunk his teeth into the man’s neck. The creature’s victim kicked and struggled wildly as his severed jugular spat gouts of dark blood in a long arc into the fire, where it sizzled and spat. Overwhelmed, she turned over and retched, coughing up mouthfuls of cum and bile onto the packed earth. When her stomach stopped heaving, she staggered to her feet and began to stagger towards her tent.

It was a mistake.

One of the hairy figures looked up at her from where it had been mauling a dead poacher. Growling, it dropped the broken body and shambled over towards the frightened woman. She let out a scream and broke into a half-run, but the creature easily closed the distance. She tried to run, but stumbled over a body and fell. Letting out an cry of atavistic triumph, the dark haired half-ape caught up and stood over her. Her eyes went wide as the animal grabbed her by the shoulders and pulled her up off the ground. It was one of the creatures she had been studying as part of her experiment. She had spent the afternoon with him, being with him… playing with him… communicating with…

Communicating!

The half-ape’s teeth were inches from her bare neck when she had gathered her wits enough to let out a high, piercing cry, a greeting sound. The animal stopped, closed its mouth and looked at her. Encouraged - she wasn’t going to die! - she did it again. Then again. The creature looked puzzled, but, after an eternity, gave an answering scream and let go of her shoulder. Almost fainting with relief, the englishwoman pulled herself up until she stood in a hunched over position. She began making quiet grunts and squeals, doing her best to imitate the normal vocal sounds of the half-apes, using all the knowledge she’d gained in two weeks of living and trying to communicate with them. It seemed to be working. The half-ape moved back a couple of feet and seemed to calm down a bit. The madness left its eyes.

Still grunting, the englishwoman began to shuffle away, moving awkwardly towards her tent. She’d covered only half the distance when she felt the creature’s heavy, long-fingered hand on her shoulder, pushing her downward. She let out a loud squeal, doing her best to sound like one of the half-apes, but that only seemed to encourage it. Forced down by the pressure on her shoulder, Jane dropped to her hands and knees, still grunting and squealing desperately. It wasn’t until the creature dropped its weight onto her back and she felt something warm and fleshy rubbing against her thigh that she realized what was happening. Two hours - a lifetime - ago, she wouldn’t have been capable of interpreting the creature’s actions, but her recent experiences had given her that capacity.

The creature was trying to fuck her.

She let out a horrified, very human scream and tried to scuttle away on her hands and knees. The half-ape just growled, pinning her with its weight, and she felt hot breath on her neck as its fangs scraped her shoulder. Jane immediately stopped trying to escape and let out a series of squeals and grunts. Mollified, the creature stopped growling, but stayed on top of her. She felt its penis, larger than that of most apes, but still smaller than a human’s penis, sliding along the inside of her thighs, leaving a warm trail of fluid. She bit her lip, trying not to scream as the creature pumped its hips back and forth, trying… trying…

It finally found the right angle, and the half-ape’s cock slid easily into her sopping pussy. The englishwoman let out a quiet grunt at the insertion, but didn’t try to escape. The important thing was to survive. The shame and humiliation were great, but it didn’t really hurt; her pussy was already slack and swampy with spent cum, and it was better than being mauled. Anxious to keep the half-ape calm, she continued to emit guttural grunts and squeals. Maybe it would come quickly and leave her alone. She gazed longingly at her tent, only a few yards distant.

On top of her, the half-ape began to piston its cock brutally back and forth inside of her. Jane dropped her head and braced herself against the onslaught; how long could the creature last? Still grunting like one of the half-apes, she closed her eyes and tried desperately to ignore what was happening to her body: the musky, animal smell of the creature… the feel of its thick, matted fur through her torn shirt… the line of drool which dripped from the creature’s mouth and left a glistening trail down her naked shoulder… its long, hard cock, sliding in and out… in and out… in and out…

With a start, she realized that she was pushing her ass back against the creature’s cock… fucking it back. Not satisfied, the dark lust which had been present in her body during the earlier rapes began to burn in her pussy. The half-ape’s thrusts, crude as they were, were having an effect. Her traitor body, making no distinction between a man’s cock and the creature’s cock, was responding.

“Nooo…”

A wave of horror and shame swept through her as she realized what was happening, but she couldn’t help herself. Her body was doing what it had to do in order to survive.

“Ahhh… ugh… ugh…” Her atavistic grunts slowly turned to pants of lust as she pumped back harder and harder, forcing the creature’s cock as far as possible into her hungry pussy. It just wasn’t long enough! Breathing heavily, she spread her legs a little further and fucked back against the creature as hard as she could.

END PART TWO

As usual, I am interested in any comments you may have regarding this story, or any of my other stories.