Parker 23: Lady Jane Greystone's Remarkable Experiment
Part 2
PARKER23.TXT -- 2/3
LADY JANE GREYSTONE'S REMARKABLE EXPERIMENT
2/3
By Parker
an210088@anon.penet.fi
WARNING: This story involves a fair bit of non-consensual
sex, humiliation, domination and - last but not least -
bestiality. If this sort of fantasy offends you, then read
no further. That, in case you didn't notice, was a warning.
Copyright 1994 by Parker (me). Feel free to distribute the story
(unaltered, of course), but be discrete.
=================================================================
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.
