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Subject: {ASSM} Runaway {Libertine} (MMF nc anal)
Date: Mon, 10 Feb 2003 05:10:05 -0500
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"Runaway"
   by Libertine


Luke Shank saw the headlights, heard the pickup stop by the house.
 By the time he got the door open, his brothers, Matthew and Mark,
were standing on the porch.  Between them was Luke's wife, Lucy. 
Matthew held her right arm, Mark her left.

"You found her. Thanks," said Luke.

"She was waiting for the bus. Runaway for sure," said Matthew.
"You best see she don't do that again, brother."

"I can't keep her chained to the kitchen sink, Matthew. A woman's
work is never done, as they say."

"Luke, you've got to train her to be good. What did out Pa do when
we was bad?" said Matthew.

"Whupped us good, with a strap."

"Well, you got to show Lucy who's boss. Teach her a good wife
don't run away like that. Give her a whuppin' she won't forget."
suggested Mark. He put Lucy's purse on the kitchen counter. "She's
got $57 in there, Luke. She stole from you."

"Lucy." said Luke, "You know I love you, but you got to be
punished. The Lord God said, '...Your desire shall be for your
husband, and he shall rule over you.' You understand, Lucy. I got
to do it, until you learn that I rule over you. God also said,
'Thou shalt not steal.' You have sinned, Lucy."

Lucy, still held by her arms, tossed her honey colored hair and
stared defiantly at Luke, but she said nothing.

"Put her face down on the table." said Luke, pointing to the
kitchen table. Lucy struggled and kicked, but the two men lifted
her by her arms and pressed her against the table. She thrashed
her legs and wouldn't hold still, even when her shoes came off.

Luke took a roll of friction tape and taped her big toe to a table
leg, then the other big toe to the other table leg, spreading her
legs far apart. Lucy's barely five feet tall, so with her legs
spread like that, her feet were off the floor.

The table wasn't that wide. Matthew and Mark held her arms over
the other edge, and Luke taped her thumbs to the other table legs.
She wasn't going anywhere. He grabbed her hair and held her head
up, so he could look into her face. He liked her delicate jaw, her
full lips, her big eyes, and her cute little nose. He just looked
at her for half a minute. Then he said, "I got to do it, Lucy. You
got it comin', until you learn to behave proper. You're married
now, Lucy, and you got to be a good wife." She didn't reply, just
gave him a long look.

"Surly bitch." said Mark, "you whup her good, Luke. You whup her
'till she promises she won't never run off again."

Luke let go of Lucy's hair, and she let her head hang. Her hair
fell nearly to the floor.

Luke wore bib overalls; he wasn't wearing a belt. He looked around
for a suitable tool for the job, and he settled on the cleaning
rod for his rifle, a steel rod as long as his arm, with wooden
handle on the end. He swished the rod in the air, and the slot in
the end, to hold the cleaning patches, whistled as he swung. It
sounded like wasps in flight.

Luke stood to one side of Lucy's bottom, looking how the wide
skirt of her cotton dress hung down over the mounds of her
buttocks. He paused in his backswing as he admired her tiny waist,
saw how her breasts were mashed against the table, so they bulged
out, stretching her dress below the short sleeves.

"Not like that, Luke." Matthew said. "Bare assed."

"Shit, this ain't Sunday school." added Mark. "It ain't a proper
whupping, unless it's on the bare ass."

Luke picked up the hem at the back of her skirt and lifted her
skirt up, dragging her dress up past Lucy's waist. He let the
full, cotton skirt hang down over Lucy's head. From behind, he
could see everything from the waist down, nothing above her waist.
Luke could almost forget that she was Lucy, his wife. All he saw
was an ass and legs, pretty, but impersonal, like a picture in one
of those magazines. Except, in the magazine, the woman wouldn't
wear panties.

Luke saw that Lucy was wearing the panties he had bought her in
that fancy store, pale pink, just a triangle in front and behind
and an elastic waistband, nothing on the sides. He tried to pull
them down, and the waistband broke. He pulled the silky material
straight up, enjoying the way the cloth slid out from under her
belly and up through the crack between her legs. Now he could see
everything, her puckered little asshole, where her cheeks were
spread, and the hairy cunt below. With her legs spread like that,
her pink, hairless, inner lips were plainly visible, little wavy
flaps of very tender flesh which stuck out between her hairy outer
lips. He ran his finger along the line between her cheeks and her
thighs. Behind him, his brothers looked, too.

"She's a pretty little thing." said Matthew. "You want to keep
her. Whup her so she'll never even think of running away again,
Luke."

Luke checked to see he wouldn't accidently hit one of his brothers
on the backswing. Then he brought his arm back, and swung, side
arm, so that the rod whooshed through the air and smacked right
across the middle of both buttocks.

Lucy only grunted. She wouldn't talk, wouldn't even yell.

Luke brought is arm back again, keeping his eye on the red line
across Lucy's ass. He swung again, aiming a quarter inch below the
line, creating an almost overlapping welt parallel to the first.
"Unggh!" groaned Lucy, through clenched teeth.

The third blow angled across the first two, and Lucy screamed,
"AAAowww! Stop, Luke, I can't stand it!" Luke's arm was already
back. He looked at his wife's pretty ass, and he knew how it must
hurt. He was determined that she would change her ways, but
he...would she hate him for what he was doing to her? Would the
rod draw blood, scar her for life? He looked at his brothers, saw
their expectant looks. It couldn't be stopped now. He couldn't
just forgive her, not with his brothers there.

He handed the cleaning rod to Matthew and quietly walked out the
kitchen door, into the darkness.

Luke stood, resting his head against the trunk of the old tree,
the one with the tire swing. He squeezed his eyes closed and felt
his throat tighten, as he heard a loud smack, and a yell from
Lucy. Smack, yell. Smack, yell. Smack. "No, please, Luke. Stop
it!" Smack. "Yeow! Please, Luke, have mercy."

Luke couldn't bear it. He knew it had to be done, but he couldn't
bear to participate. Luke pulled himself together and walked out
across the moonlit fields, toward the woods.

Mark took the rod from Matthew. He wondered where he should aim,
as there were red welts all over Lucy's ass. He poked one pink
cheek with the end of the rod, and a cat cry of distress came from
Lucy. "Please, Luke, I promise to be good."

Mark gave her a back-handed slash which caught one hip, putting a
pink stripe on the formerly unmarked pale, white skin. Lucy's legs
were tanned, from the knees down, but she never exposed her body
to the sun. Mark and Matthew seemed to have the same idea at the
same time. They loosened the waist of her dress and dragged it
right up over her shoulders, as far as they could, with her arms
in the sleeves. It took some effort to pull all the cloth out
under her breasts, mashed against the table, but they succeeded.
Without hesitation, they removed her bra, dragging it out from
under her. Her breasts, like creme-filled donuts, bulged outward
on the table top. Mark used the end of the rod to press the
softness of her left breast.

"Luke." she said, "Don't do that with your brothers here. That's
bedroom business." Luke, of course, couldn't hear.

Mark now had a whole new canvas to paint on, and he flailed away
with the rod, putting red stripes from her shoulders to her waist,
and all down the back of her taut, tapered, thighs, to her knees.
Lucy no longer yelled with each blow; she was continuously
blubbering, screaming, crying, incoherently pleading for her
husband to stop.

The sight of her pink cunt, there between the curls of her hairy
crotch, entranced Mark. He managed to plant a blow right on her
cunt.

Luke, by now walking into the woods, heard the scream, faintly,
across the fields. He shrugged his shoulders and walked on,
depressed beyond caring.

Matthew tugged at Mark's sleeve, and led him quietly from the
kitchen, out back to the tree. "Luke's run off." he said."Left the
job to us."

"I don't mind that." said Mark. "I kind of like it. We're doin'
him a favor. She needs to be taught a lesson."

Lucy's sobs could still be heard, through the open kitchen door.
"I got a hard-on." said Matthew. "Let's fuck her. She deserves
it."

"Me, too." said Mark. "But I don't got a rubber. We don't want to
knock her up. Luke's our brother."

"Just watch." whispered Matthew. The two brothers went quietly
into the kitchen and removed their jeans. Matthew found a can of
Crisco and used his finger to grease Lucy's ass hole.

"No, please, no, Luke." she whimpered, "not there. I never..."

Matthew put the end of his tool against the greased rosebud and
shoved. The table legs scraped across the floor, until Matthew
grabbed Lucy's hips and pushed even harder. "Ahh!" she cried, as
his stiff rod sank into her.

There were more protests and crying as Matthew pumped in and out
of Lucy's tight back hole. He had been fucking Gayle, the waitress
at the Yukommon Inn, but her cunt was a slack sack, compared to
Lucy's tight ass. He pumped his load into her and slowly withdrew
his limp dick.

Lucy whimpered and said, "Luke, that wasn't nice. That's sinful
sex."

It was Mark's turn, and his big meaty rod went in more easily than
his brother's had. He held onto Lucy's hips and pumped in and out
vigorously.

"Ow. Luke? How can you do that twice? Luke? Luke!"

Lucy's cries excited Mark, and he couldn't help himself. He shot
his load, even though he would have preferred to prolong the
pleasure.

"That's not Luke, is it?" Lucy cried. "Luke! Where's my husband?"

Mark withdrew, leaving a trail of semen down the crack of her ass.
 Matthew gave Lucy half a dozen hard whacks on the ass with the
steel bore-cleaning rod. She stopped talking and just yelled.

Mark was in no shape to fuck her again, but he used his hands to
explore her body, fingering as much of her breasts as he could
reach, running his hands over her beaten ass cheeks and legs.
Matthew fingered her cunt, pulling her pubic hairs to spread her
outer lips, then fingering up and down her pink groove. There was
nothing she could do or say to stop him.

He inserted a finger, then two, then three, stretching her cunt,
and he finger-fucked her for a minute or two, while Mark amused
himself by pinching her tortured flesh. Lucy blubbered protests,
but it wasn't clear, and they didn't care whether she objected to
the pain of the pinching or the humiliation of the finger fucking.

Mark picked up the cleaning rod, with it's grooved wooden handle,
like the handle on a sheath knife. He rubbed it up and down the
crack of her ass; getting some Crisco on it. Then he roughly
rammed it up her cunt. Lucy shrieked.

"I think we should go, before Luke gets back." said Matthew.

"Lucy." said Mark, "you don't mention this to anyone, especially
not to Luke. If we find out you told him, we'll come back when
he's at work, and we'll make you wish you hadn't." He emphasized
his point by shoving the rough wooden handle in and out, forward
and back, stretching Lucy's love-hole as much as he could. "We'll
tell him you begged us to fuck you. We'll tell him you liked it."
He yanked out the rod and stuffed the handle half way into her
tortured asshole.

"Don't leave that in there, Mark." said Matthew.

Mark pulled the handle out and dropped the cleaning rod on the
table.

It was hours before Luke got back and entered the kitchen. He knew
his brothers had left; the pickup was gone. The light was still
on. He could see the small form of his wife, her body still
pressed on the table, her legs and arms still spread, stretched
taut. Her head was completely covered by her dress, and her body
was naked, covered with bruises. The rod lay beside her, the
handle stained. He said nothing, as he examined the damage. He
noticed the Crisco can, open.

It was obvious the beating had been severe, very thorough. Still,
the skin wasn't broken. No need for a doctor, or anything. He
looked at her buttocks particularly, all those overlapping
stripes, and he saw the Crisco, even what looked like jism, around
her little hole.

"Luke?" said Lucy. "Is that you?"

"Yes, Lucy."

"Please, Luke, I promise I won't run away again. I promise I'll do
anything you say. Just don't ever let your brothers do that
again."

"You learned your lesson?'

"Yes, Luke."

He noticed a bit of blood on her bruised cunt lips. "They took
advantage, didn't they. They raped my wife."

She said nothing.

"Tell me! They fucked your ass, didn't they!"

"I can't tell you what they did."

Luke knew; she didn't have to tell him. He took his pocket knife
and cut the tapes which held her hands. Then he pulled the dress
off over her head and arms, leaving her totally naked. He walked
around to the other end of her and gently fingered her bruised
cunt. It was dry, now. Then he cut the tapes which bound her toes
to the table legs. He slipped one arm under her legs and the other
just below her breasts, and he lifted her from the table the way
he might have lifted a big, sick dog. She hung limp, her tiny body
covered with bruises. It was only a few feet to their bed.

"I love you, Lucy." he said. "I just couldn't get along without
your love."

"Yes, Luke."

"I need to make love now, Lucy."

"Please, no, Luke. I hurt too much."

He realized it would hurt her to lie on her back, so he set her
down, across the bed, on her hands and knees. He fingered her
bruised cunt lips again, and she stayed dry. It didn't excite her,
but he got hard, and he quickly got out of his overalls.

"Please, Luke, not now. You'll hurt me." she pleaded.

"You're my wife, Lucy. Remember that." He tried to insert a finger
into her dry cunt. She just wouldn't respond to him.

"Please, no, Luke."

"Just shut up, Lucy!" he yelled, slapping her bruised ass. "You
haven't learned your lesson yet. Don't you ever say no to me like
that." He slapped her again, as hard as he could. She screamed at
the slap, but she didn't speak again, just cried softly, as Luke
applied some fresh Crisco to her asshole.


                          -- The End --


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