Never: an erotic retelling of Peter Pan (23 page)

The foot near her moved off and when they were both gone, she let out a soft, but audible sigh.

A second later there was a crash in the ferns beside her and she screamed.

Mack had dropped out of the tree above to land in a crouch by her waist, his glinting knife poised in front of her eyes.

She heard feet thundering through the undergrowth and Christophe's voice.  "No.  Please, God."

"Hey man, go easy," said one of the twins.

Dee was staring at the blade as it lowered and pressed flat against her lips, effectively holding her while he lifted her arm and glanced at the watch.

"Seven minutes," Xavion said from somewhere to her side as Mack brought one leg over to kneel astride her thighs.  The knife came away from her lips but Dee remained in catatonic immobility, her wide eyes following the glinting steel as the tip lowered to prod at one of her nipples.

She swallowed, incapable of speech, even to beg. 

The tip scraped across her chest to the other nipple leaving a stinging path, then the knife moved on and the sharp pressure eased.

There was a snap and she flinched, but it was only the knife being returned to its sheath on hip.  Then slowly, in an obscene parody of striptease, his thick fingers loosened the strings of his loincloth.  And tore it off.

A gasp caught in her throat.  She jerked her attention back up to his face, his eyes, but their cruelty repelled her and she looked instead to his mouth which was oddly sensual, and the faint cleft in his chin.  Anything to keep her thoughts away from the shaft of flesh she'd seen rising from that bed of luxuriant blond hairs. 

Thick - it had been almost as thick as her wrist, but thankfully not long.  Stocky, like the man himself, and undeniably cruel.  How she could say a penis looked cruel she wasn't sure, but that was the impression she'd gained.

His hands returned to her breasts, his fingers clawing them, then lower, testing the strength of her ribs, and lower still, his thumbs gouging into the unprotected cavities. 

Did he want to reach in and squeeze her very organs? 

If the intent was there, she didn't want to see it in his eyes.  She kept her attention on his mouth and the way his sneer had intensified, his lip curling up over small white teeth that looked as sharp as his knife.

Her ears started buzzing and she realised she was holding her breath.  She eased it out, feeling her shoulders droop, and it was in that moment of distraction that Mack took her by surprise, twisting her over.  Hair lashed her eyes and her hands landed awkwardly as he pulled her haunches up to meet his fleshy weapon.

She heard a grunt and felt the blunt tip of his penis poking at her a second before he plunged into her unready depths.  She cried out, not only in pain, but in fear.

His merciless fingers squeezed her hips as he jabbed into her a couple of times in quick succession, then he paused. 

Dee panted, trying to accustom herself to the size of his penis and to sort through the myriad sensations she was experiencing.   

"Six minutes."  Xavion.

There was a
snick
and she tensed, looking along the underside of her body to where the tip of his knife brushed her public hair.  She held her breath. 

His thick penis jabbed into her again and she shuddered.  The knife moved up over her belly, the tip scraping her skin but not drawing blood. 

"Xavion, please," Christophe whispered from above her, but Dee was looking past the knife, past her belly and the shadow of her pubic hair to the enormous testicles in their vulnerable casing that swayed between her parted thighs.  Their size was so grotesquely large as to appear more animal than human.

His penis withdrew and stabbed into her again, and this time she identified the explosion of sensation.  It was his pendulous sac with its heavy contents slapping against her stretched and tender sex flesh.  At the same time the edge of the blade scraped her nipple and there was pain, but it only added to the sharp pleasure that slap had produced.

Her body was in over-stimulation.  Internal and external nerve-signals vied for attention, yet despite the chaos inside her mind, there was something about the pain she was experiencing and the sight of those huge testicles that was awakening a long-forgotten memory.  A memory of...

The bull.

Every year her mother had ordered a bull to service their cows - a large, temperamental beast she'd been told to keep away from and normally had.  Except for one season when it's owner, a crude man, had come on her alone and coaxed her out to the paddock to see for herself what her mother had been paying for.

Dee had been naturally curious, but that curiosity had turned to shock when he'd called her attention to the huge pouch that had hung between the beasts short legs.  Her stomach had churned with fascination and embarrassment as he'd explaining its purpose, as well as that of the sheath that lay against the beasts belly. 

Luckily her mother had called out then, before he'd had the opportunity to show her his own 'equipment' and Dee had run, with his knowing laughter echoing in her ears.  But she couldn't run now, she could only stare past Mack's deadly knife at the recreation of that frighteningly primitive virility.

She felt the penis withdraw, slowly, then stab into her again, the heavy slap of those testicles triggering another wave of pleasure.  She watched the sac swinging between her thighs and wondered if she could reach past the knife and touch it.  It was so full, its contents so... potent looking - she found her fear dissipating.  She wanted to touch it.

He thrust into her again, the knife edge scraping her other nipple, and this time the jolt of pain-pleasure made her dizzy.  She closed her eyes, grabbing handfuls of fern to steady herself. 

"Five minutes."

The knife scraped back and forth as he moved faster inside her and Dee started to pant.  The pain was fierce - she knew her nipples would be raw - but the slap, slap of those big testicles against her throbbing flesh was pushing her closer to the edge.

She remembered the one time she'd seen that bull mount a cow.  Her mother had thought she was in the house ironing but she'd snuck out to watch, her vantage close enough to hear her mother's voice. 'That's it, big boy.  You stick your big cock into Sally and give her a good hard fuck.'  Dee had been shocked by her mother's words, and even more by the envious tone.  Hadn't her mother hated 'the ugly business'?

"Four minutes."

Dee had been only twelve, but she'd felt strange for days after that.  And milking Sally had made it worse, squeezing her flaccid udders the way that bull's penis would have been squeezed inside her. 

Dee had begun squeezing her own breasts then, remembering the bull.  It had hurt at first when she'd done it hard, just as Mack was making them hurt now...

"Three minutes."

...but there'd been a corresponding spasm of pleasure from between her tightly squeezed thighs and she'd imagined then the feel of a 'big cock' between them.  Once, in bed, she'd rolled onto her stomach and rubbed her aching mound against the hard mattress, squeezing her nipples until they'd stung...

"Two minutes."

...and she'd felt the pulsing between her thighs grow, imagining that bull.  Imagining Sally...

"Sixty seconds."

... feeling the slap, slap of a heavy pouch against her, the pain from her breasts going on and on...

"Wendee."  Xavion's voice came from right beside her ear and it took her a moment to grasp the fact that Mack had stopped.  They were poised on the brink.  This was the orgasm she'd never allowed herself to have all those years ago. 

"You can stop now," Xavion said.  "It's your choice."

She felt Mack's knife move, the tip now, instead of the edge, scoring the tender flesh at the top of her breast.  Drawing blood.

"Wendee?"  Xavion was waiting.

She looked down at those huge testicles.  "No," she said hoarsely.  "Not yet," and was rewarded by the immediate return of Mack's sharp lunges.  The heavy sac pounded against her, the knife edge scraping her nipple again.

She heard a moan of protest, probably from Christophe, and the sound of crashing through the undergrowth that faded as the roaring started in her ears.  She was back on her narrow bed, quiet so as not to alert her mother, her belly moving against the hard mattress as the strange pleasure built. 

Her breasts stung and she remembered squeezing Sally's udders - imagined squeezing a big cock - then the bull with his pouch swaying and the long narrow shaft that had protruded above it spearing into Sally and -

"Stop now, Wendee?" Xavion asked softly but it was happening, she was pushing her head down onto the cushion of ferns, panting, looking back up her body as the knife flicked sideways out of Mack's hand to land among the ferns beside them.  He grabbed both her breasts and squeezed them brutally.