Flying high

It felt like she was a bird. She was grounded all right. But she felt high. The sun was great. It was warm in the white sand. She smiled to herself. She didn't care if she wasn't a bird. He was. Her adored husband. Her lover, her master. He was her eagle, her predatory eagle, always slowly circling around her, and then.... it was more than sufficient for her.

But for now he had gone shopping and he had let her be on her own. For the time being at least. So now she was really like a free bird. Or so it felt.

Half dozing she let her book slip into the sand next to her. Its tales were absurd and complicated. But she was too lazy to read. So she looked around. Nobody. Nobody to see her nakedness. Nobody to see the collar with her husband’s name on it, which she wore so proudly. The place was deserted. But on a private beach, that's no surprise.

Somewhere behind a strange deserted building, she was. It loomed dark and somewhat threatening, although she could not figure out why. But she wasn't really interested.

She let a hand dwell between her thighs. What did she care? She was free wasn't she? No one around. Blue sky. The beach abandoned. She felt good. She rubbed her pleasure bud and, her arousal rising, she closed her eyes to fly towards heaven.

A voice.
There was a voice.

Not one, but several. In bewildered alarm she saw them. They must have come out of that strange building. Quickly she used her hands to cover her shame and her breasts, and stunned her yaw dropped as she watched the unbelievable.

Three men and two women, completely naked, stood in the sand watching her lie there.
They looked young, strong and attractive.

One of them, a sturdy guy with colorful tattoos on chest and arms, and with bald shaven head, approached her. He bent over, shading the sun from her eyes. She could not help but look in awe at his large male member with its big hanging balls. "Lady, you are trespassing," he said. Standing above her, like a young muscular God, he added: "You are on private grounds here, madam. You should not be here. Not without loosing your rights. That’s what happens when people enter this property."

Elisa felt horribly embarrassed. Rights? What did he mean? Should she have asked permission to be here? She wanted to apologize. But the naked man made her swallow her words, as he waved his arms to call the others.

What happened then shocked Elisa to the core, and red warning lights began to flicker all around her. Before she could get up in the loose sand, get hold of her towel, and make a run for it, she was grabbed. Having no time to find out what happened, or why, she began to violently struggle against them, her feet kicking up clouds of sand.

But these people were strong, even the women. Fear shook her. She had no chance with those strangers.

They didn’t give her any time to think. She was thrown backwards into the sand. One guy, a beautiful one, with a thin elongated penis - as she had a split second to notice - kneeled down behind her. He pulled her hands away, and taking a firm hold on her wrists pressed them forcefully into the warm sand above her head. It made her helpless and she kicked wildly with her shapely legs. The others looked down on her nude struggling body like predators watching their prey before jumping on it.

She wanted to yell, to scream. To stop this, to let her go. But her voice failed, as in one of those nightmares she so often had. Her worst fears from those dreams materialized as all of them fell upon her. All of them. Their hands clawed at her body, kneading her breasts, her belly, her thighs, and that secret delicacy hidden between them was maltreated by a multitude of groping and digging fingers. Her arms still being held over her head, she desperately tried to kick her attackers away. But alas, it was no use. They knew how to evade her feet and continued to enjoy her body.

I blind panic she fought on, so forcefully that she suddenly succeeded in wrestling herself free from the grip of the man holding her down. Scrambling on to her knees she screamed. Now she found her voice. But the horrid sounds that broke from her were those of an animal fighting for its life. At the same time her hands madly tried to hide her breasts and her so very private womanhood. But she did not hold out for long. Her attackers again pried those hands away, baring her most intimate delicacies, forcing her to show them everything she had.

Manly pricks, standing hard and waving in the air like flags, appeared before her eyes. And in addition she saw swollen nipples and lusciously breasts swinging horribly close to her face. Someone snatched her arms and she realized that they were tying her wrists together behind her back. Suddenly she felt drowned into waves of sexuality. Vivid images flashed before her mind’s eye of the games her husband and his friends use to play with her. And she could feel that familiar exciting sense of shame enveloping her.

But then things changed. Without warning she was yanked upright on her feet. Her knees gave way as strong hands supported her. Something was thrown over her head.

Then she realized what it was. A rope! It curled above her like a lazy snake. "Oh my God...!!" she thought, "It’s a noose!!" And the first thing that came to her mind was the breath-play her master liked her to suffer. Was that the price for trespassing?

Or would they want…?"

The answer came soon. Strong hands held her head fixed and voice whispered in her ears. It was a woman. It said something, calmly but decidedly… Something about losing her rights, and about pleasure… their pleasure, not hers.

“NOOOO!!!” she yelled, feeling like a bird shot out of the air. She was terrified. She was to be hanged! Suddenly she didn't care anymore that she was naked, didn't care that her hands were bound behind her, didn’t even care about all that groping. There was only a frenzied fear. Hadn’t that woman said she was… to die…!

She had no say in it. They were really going to hang her. No, not really, weren’t they? Or were they? But she knew she could not stop them. What if they fancied her to really die? What if that woman had meant it? Oh no… she wasn’t going to hang for them, she thought. But when she looked around at her captors, she only saw flushed faces staring at her… They meant it! Oh God NO…!! In pure anguish she pissed herself. It flowed thick and warm down both her thighs and into the sand between her feet. It made her feel horrible, but she could not stop it.

And then it happened! Her throat was painfully jerked, and she felt hauled up by her neck. Frantically she tried to free her hands, avail of them, use them. But they were imprisoned firmly behind her. No help there. Another jerk on that hurtful rope and she lost her footing. Just empty air under her feet. Just void. She kicked wildly. The rope bit ferociously into her throat. It hurt terribly. She knew that in all her nakedness she now swung heavily by her neck.  The air to her lungs was stopped. She gurgled incomprehensibly. The noose tightened more and closed around her breathing muscles. And it became a terrible pain. A horrendous pain. A knife cutting into her throat.

More jolts! She was pulled up higher. And those naked men and women, they were all watching. Even in her panic she saw nipples hardening, dicks rise…

But it was a fleeting sight, only glimpsed during her furious struggle on the rope. She felt her eyes bulge, her blood pound in her head. And now several of her tormentors began to fondle her breasts again, her buttocks, her cleft. She realized how arousing she must be to them, hanging naked and completely helpless before them, shaking her luscious breasts, yanking on the rope that held her hands behind her, trampling her legs wide, giving them a free view of her love entrance.

Maybe in other circumstances… but this was no game to play. With them down there in the sand… it was entirely different. No doubt it was sexy for them. No doubt her naked swinging body fed their erotic lusts. But she was no part of it. She felt no excitement, only a desperate need to suck air into her lungs.

Nothing came. Not even the tiniest bit of air. The world colored red before her eyes. And she felt how her hurting chest began to convulse reflexively. If she wasn’t saved now, she might lose consciousness. She had to fight back. They must save her now! Quick! Otherwise it would be too late.

But then she remembered that woman’s voice, and she realized this wasn’t a game. From the way these people looked up at her, it was clear that they really wanted to see her life ebb away. It was weird to see them watch her with such lust. And her body was still fondled, although several of her tormentors stood back and just watched. They were touching their own genitals. She tried to focus her gaze. But it was as if those naked people dissolved in an erotic foam; breasts swinging, hands groping, and erect pricks swaying… Notwithstanding the anguish of her convulsing body, she definitely could sense their sexual excitement.

But that did not ease her situation. They wouldn’t save her… wouldn’t lower her down… They didn't want to! The prospect of dying before their eyes became a terribly lucid obsession. Was she hallucinating? She couldn’t any more hear properly what they shouted at her. But she did register that they were waiting for the moment of her struggling death! The lust in their eyes was as intense as the flames of her pain.

She tried to free her hands again, to scream for help, but her throat was too constricted to make any sound escape. No air… no air…! Her palpitating chest made frantic efforts to haul in air, any air... But still nothing came. A horrid urge to breath overpowered her. This was a far worse experience than she had ever thought possible. The rope on which she hung remained merciless.

Then the fondling stopped. Now panic came! Real panic!

Vaguely she saw her audience step back and look in fascination at her trampling, her violent efforts to get air through her closed throat.

Her mind began to spin. She would expire on that rope. She was sure now. And they would just stand there in the warm sand and watch the spectacle of her dying convulsions. She had no option. No option other than to provide them the erotic view of how she would give them her life.

Her hearing now disappeared completely. The world burst into exploding stars and then sank into black silence. And thus, finally, her efforts at staying alive stopped. She gave up. Her body did not react any more, did not move on its rope. She felt a faint gust of a wind wrapping around her nude frame as it slowly swayed to and fro by the rope around its neck. A last helpless pull on her bound wrists, a last kick of her legs, and then the noise of breaking waves rose to her ears, like a sea in which she drowned. She saw her life flash before her eyes, as in a silent black and white movie. Her family when she was still a child, her first boyfriend, and then, larger than life, her eternal lover, the man who was her master. The image of his virile frame released an unexpected rush of sexual arousal. And a glorious orgiastic seizure washed through the entire length of her body, ending in several violent quivers, and she awoke in the sand with a bolting start. Her heart beat like a thundering orchestra. Her hair was full of sand and the sun had almost gone down. Startled and panting she looked up and saw, hovering above her against the evening sky, the life-saving shadow of that broadly winged eagle, her husband, her adored master, pulling hard at the leash attached to the collar around her neck.

"Get up dear, take your towel and wipe the sand off,” he said, “And don’t forget your book," he added, once again tugging on the leash. "You've been sleeping long enough. We're going home..."