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On the platform I’m trembling uncontrollably. For now I know what a rape pit is, I know that if Tits and I lose we’re probably dead. The platform where we stand is circular, cut from raw stone and about ten yards in diameter. We reached its flat top by a retractable bridge, and with the means of escape now removed we’re surrounded in every direction by a twelve-foot drop into the pit. Prison is a brutal place, and prisoners enjoy cruel sports. When there were no women on Cancis Rock, inmates would be made to fight on this platform, and those who fell or were forced from the precarious heights would be met by vicious carnivores in the depths below. Now predators of a different kind await. There must be a hundred men down there. Denied contact with women for so long they’re baying insanely for our bodies. Most of them are already hard in anticipation of the rapes to come. And those who enjoy female suffering are not just waiting below. I see merciless, cruel men everywhere I look, all bulging muscle and tattoos and grizzled faces. The excitement has proved too much for some, and several times we’ve had to dodge gobs of semen thrown at us by those lurking in the depths. The space around the pit is tiered with seats like an arena. Here sit the rest of the population of Cancis Rock. Over five thousand men screaming and shouting for fear, and blood, and entertainment, and women, and sex. The deafening sound terrifies me. Sour and Klink watch from a box with the best view of the sport. The rest of the women are also obliged to watch, caged in indian a fenced-off section of the seating. Locked inside they’re safe from the inmates, but men leer through the chain-link and abuse is not the only thing being thrown at them either. I don’t think anything can calm such a savage crowd, so the demonstration of authority when Sour stands and the din recedes immediately intimidates us in a different way. “Residents of Cancis Rock,” he says. “Please welcome our new citizens – these Gaianesian women who have seen the error of their culture and decided to make recompense by serving as prostitutes for you all.” The sound of men is thunderous, but once more Governor Sour gestures and order is restored. “Some of our new females have the honor of providing special entertainment for you this evening – fighting to evade the rape pit. You will all know how it works already, but for our new females the rules are simple. The first two women into the pit suffer the consequences from the men below. Whoever is left on the platform will be permitted back across the bridge.” As the volume increases I look uncertainly around the circle. The rules might be simple, but fighting will not be. It is going to be brutal, and hellish. All four of us have our hands folded and restrained behind our backs, in a contraption like a straightjacket. We are left to battle using only our feet, but there we have been handicapped by fitting us with the most ridiculous boots, made from a black vinyl material which comes up to our thighs and possessing the highest, narrowest heels I’ve ever worn. I’m barely going to be able to keep my balance, let alone kick using the pointed toe. How many blows will it take for the poor losers to be defeated, and how much damage might we sustain purely from kicking? Instruments of torture hang on the walls – serrated blades; pincers; things with hooks. Wow! This clothing is not provided as a kindness, however. As he looked down at her face he could see her eyes frozen wide open and her mouth making noises and motions of her being totally stunned by what was happening to her. I had to shake off my revere enough to drive. I don’t take part because I’m watching Guy who has his head down and his eyes closed as my friends cheer on whoever is beating the shit out of the crazy. I look up and see my daughter is riding me. “Claire…? My bra and panties joined them and I walked slowly through my parents bedroom to reach their bathroom. She drove me wild. He rammed deep into her cunt, plunging over and over into her. He kept fucking me hard from behind with his balls slapping my cunt and I had another orgasm. Beth started to swerve her hips faster and harder into his cock, and let her arms drift up around Logan’s head. I was on my way to the barn one day as we met on the laneway, “lets go play in our hay fort” she suggested. He placed his knob on her asshole and started to force it indian gently inside her asshole. There was a short period of uncomfortable silence. It was quiet, as we walked down the little roadway in the cemetery to the mausoleum. I lifted my hips to make it easier for Lisa to pull my panties off.