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Subject: {ASSM} Escape From Buggery Ch. Eight (8/20) {Bradley Stoke} (caution)
Date: Tue, 27 May 2003 17:10:06 -0400
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Title: {ASSM} Escape From Buggery Ch. Eight (8/20) {Bradley Stoke} (caution)
Author: Bradley Stoke
Part: Chapter 8 of 20
Keywords: (caution)
Short Summary: Sharon, Tracey and Buttercup wander through Buggery.
Escape from Buggery
===================
Synopsis of whole novel
======================
Sex tourism is an adventure, but for Sharon and Tracey their
trip to Buggery was rather more of an adventure than they'd
anticipated. And certainly more than the brochure advertised.
This is a dark disturbing novel in a world the sex tourist
would rather not know about.
For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
Previously
==========
Sharon and Tracey are trying to escape from Buggery to the neighbouring
republic of Gomorrah. They meet Buttercup who is also on the run.
Chapter Eight
=============
Buttercup's skills extended far beyond the sensual as
Sharon and Tracey became increasingly aware as they
continued their tramp through the woods. It was she who
told them how to orientate their progress on the map by
reference to the position of the Sun and its height in the
sky. This meant that they were able to get further away
from the wall, which, as Buttercup reminded them, was
probably not very safe when there was almost certainly a
hunt being organises for her. "They wouldn't like to
encourage others to escape, if they knew they could get
away with it," she commented. Despite their desperation,
Buttercup's presence somehow lifted both the girls' spirits,
although it was clear that she responded positively to
Tracey's more unambiguous attraction to her. She took
Tracey's hand in hers (something no man or woman had
ever done in her all her years of love-making) and squeezed
it occasionally in a reassuring way as they walked under the
overhanging branches and avoided nettles and bracken.
Sharon accepted this reluctantly, but as she reminded
herself as she watched her best friend and her new lover
gaily swinging their arms from clasped hands, it was cock
not cunt she relished. Even when she responded with a faint
tingle when Buttercup occasionally touched her arm or
kissed her encouragingly on the cheek.
The trek through the woods seemed to go on longer than
either Sharon or Tracey had anticipated, but then neither of
them had had much experience of, or previous inclination
towards, either map-reading or walking. In fact, it was clear
that they were actually making faster progress with
Buttercup than they were before. They were having fewer
rests and they seemed to have gained new energy to stride
forward faster and further than previously. As the night
drew in, they actually found a deserted cottage which
seemed suitable for them to rest the night. This would be
luxury compared to where they'd been sleeping the last few
nights, even though it was in a very dilapidated state. Half
the cottage was totally collapsed and less than half of its
roof was in any sense intact. However, it kept the night
chill away from the girls' bare flesh: especially Buttercup
who didn't even have as much as a blouse to keep her
warm. They made space for themselves in the weeds and
rubble of what were once rooms and watched the shadows
lengthen as day came rather abruptly to a close.
It was now that Buttercup's skills as a gardener came to the
fore as she somehow managed to locate some potatoes,
carrots, turnips and other vegetables that were still growing
in the abandoned ruins of what had once been a vegetable
garden. Many of these were vegetables neither Sharon nor
Tracey would ever have considered eating before. They
looked so bland and not usually found on pizzas or inside
burgers, but now they seemed like the most perfect food in
the world. Soon all three girls were resting together in the
shadows of the trees cast by the half moon, sitting down in
front of a fire of twigs and small branches started by
Tracey's cigarette lighter in which roasted the vegetables
that Buttercup had tugged out of the ground and had
prepared with some sharp stones. Sharon sat slightly to one
side enjoying the warmth given off by the flames, while
Tracey and Buttercup lay together.
When the food was ready, it tasted better to the girls than
the most delicious fried chicken or doner kebab had ever
done before. Better even than a chicken chow mein with
sweet and sour sauce, or a chicken vindaloo. It was also
probably the plainest food they'd ever eaten. No ketchup,
vinegar, mayonnaise or even salt. But after such a poor diet
to which they'd become accustomed, Sharon and Tracey
felt somehow invigorated and energised. And it was clear
from the bright sparkle in Tracey's eyes that this new vigour
and energy was to be directed towards one particular
object.
Buttercup, as always, needed no prompting. After allowing
sufficient time for the food to sink into their system, she
crawled on her hands and knees towards Tracey, who was
grinning in a curiously stupid fashion, and gently pinched
the folds of her vagina with the forefingers of her right
hand. Tracey moaned in a strangely full-throated way, and
gracefully parted her legs so that Buttercup could swivel
round and engage more fingers and her tongue on the
scarred and embattled terrain of her cunt. She sank back
onto her elbows, her head back, staring up at the half moon
through the tangled shadows of the overhanging trees,
while Buttercup expertly massaged, licked and caressed her
sensitive and, oh so tender!, erogenous zones towards
further gasps of unrestrainable pleasure and near ecstasy.
Sharon sat cross-legged watching her best friend make love
to someone else. Not for the first time, of course, but
usually it had been some hairy-arsed, winnets-blessed man,
with saliva dripping from his lower lip and a prick that
usually either came to soon or never got really stiff enough.
Sharon was aware that she was beginning to get jealous of
the growing friendship between her closest friend and this
beautiful naked girl, but there was no denying that
Buttercup's presence was undoubtedly a good thing. She
was helping the two friends navigate through the woods,
keeping up their otherwise dejected spirits and was
decidedly more practical-minded than either of them were.
Sharon watched as Tracey responded to Buttercup's
advances and returned them by crawling underneath her
body and taking the lips of Buttercup's vagina in her teeth.
Tracey had never experimented with this sexual position of
mutual oral sex before. Blow jobs usually just led to
fucking. No blokes, until she'd come to Buggery, had ever
shown any interest in putting their tongues to her cunt.
Perhaps it was the smell of fish and piss that put them off,
she wondered. But now this wonderful woman with a
supermodel body was tonguing her liked she'd never been
tongued before, and as she climaxed urgently, passionately,
and loudly, she knew that her own reciprocation had really
been clumsy and awkward. She definitely needed more
practise. She collapsed in exhaustion. All the passion had
exhausted her small reservoir of energy, and she huddled in
Buttercup's comforting sun-tanned arms.
Sharon smiled at the two of them, too tired and
disorientated to resent Tracey's sexual selfishness. And
anyway Tracey had been gagging for it all day. Sharon was
still a little uneasy about making love to a woman. Where
was the cock in that? Buttercup smiled back at Sharon and
ran her tongue over her lips, clearly advertising her
continued availability. Sharon was just not interested, which
was unusual for her.
Somehow or other, conversation began about Tracey and
Sharon's life before they'd come to Buggery. Buttercup
listened to their account of life back home, and seemed to
find it tremendously exotic and even bizarre. The very
concept of night-clubs and pubs took some explaining. The
girls' accounts of their sexual exploits didn't impress her at
all, however. Buttercup didn't find anything very
adventurous or exciting in their tales about making love to
several men at the same time, having both anal and vaginal
intercourse simultaneously, losing your knickers on the
train or being found by your parents with a boy's prick in
your mouth.
Indeed, some of her comments rather shocked the girls,
like: "Didn't you ask your parents to join in?" or "Why
didn't you make love with girls more often?" or "Is it true
that you're not supposed to show your vagina in public?"
"Don't you ever get to find out about anything in the world
outside of Buggery?" wondered Sharon getting a little
exasperated by Buttercup's show of ignorance.
"You've seen our television stations, haven't you?"
Buttercup responded sweetly. "When I was at school I
genuinely believed that the real world was like that."
"But since then? When you were behind the wall... Didn't
you find out more?"
"A little more. But not much. They've got another
television station which is relayed by cable behind the wall,
which is a bit different to what you can see at the tourist
resorts. But it's no better for finding out what's beyond
Buggery's borders."
"What's that station like?" wondered Sharon. "Does it have
sex in it? Or is it a normal television station?"
"It's more normal than what you've seen, in that people
wear clothes (or some clothes) on it. But it's no better for
information. And it's horribly cruel and violent. And that's
because it suits the depraved tastes of the Buggery
aristocracy."
"What could be more depraved than what we've already
seen!" snorted Sharon. "This whole country is just one
bunch of pervie bastards. There's nothing sane or normal
here!"
"Well! There's a lot of violence. And a lot of sex. There's a
lot of sports and game shows: and they're not the nice
sports like you told me you see on tourist television. There
are a lot of gladiatorial sports. There's one sport which is
basically where two men armed with knives have to fight to
castrate the other. The winner is the one who (by whatever
means) manages to slice off his opponent's testicles and to
hold them aloft. That's pretty disgusting. And often, of
course, one or both of them die. There are others which are
just fights to the death, where the loser survives at least
long enough to see that he or she has lost. And when it
involves disembowelling and live organ removal, just how
they lost in gruesome detail.
"There is wrestling: but the only kind of wrestling you see
is where the aim of the exercise is to anally fuck the
opponent. It looks really odd as two men who have to keep
their penises as erect as they can (so they're always
masturbating themselves as they fight) have to try and get
their opponent into a position that they can force their prick
into the other's arsehole. There are team sports too: but
many of those also involve death, castration and sodomy.
"Another game is where a person has to run away from
others, including dogs, whose task is to rape him or her.
This might take place in a maze, where the victim has no
idea who or what might be around the next bend or corner.
In this case the victim has to be able to both run quite fast
and to be able to fight off the attackers. The victim is
considered to have won when he or she has reached
wherever the end point is and to have escaped anal
intercourse. And, for a woman, vaginal intercourse as well.
It's quite possible for a victim to win because she's only
been fucked but not been buggered."
"It can't all be sport on television?" wondered Tracey who'd
never really followed sport much at home, although she
liked watching wrestling for the pleasure of watching the
men's bodies.
"There are films as well. These must be made for export in
most cases and some are very well-made. But they're very
violent too. And I'm sure the violence is real. When
characters are slowly mutilated to death, or repeatedly
beaten, or have parts of their body removed then you can
be sure it's the real thing. And there's usually some rape
involved in it. It seems that it's impossible to kill or harm
someone without having sex with them. Often the victims
are restrained by ropes or manacles. Sometimes they are
just beaten into compliance."
"The actors can't have a long career can they?" wondered
Tracey.
"Not if they are deemed to be villains or if they are one of
those to be attacked early in the films. But even those who
are considered the heroes or heroines are not that nice.
They seem not to care if they gouge out the eyes of their
victims, or castrate them, or slice off their limbs, or
disembowel them. Even if they are supposed to be acting
on behalf of goodness and decency. And they are just as
likely to rape their victims. The main difference is that the
good characters will always survive. However, there was
one character whose descent towards her final death started
off with her being considered a heroine. But in the process
of that film she had both of her arms severed just below the
shoulders. Her suffering was grotesque and genuine, as
near the start of the film her arms were cut off with a knife
while being raped. She spent the rest of the film having to
adapt to her new physical deficiency. Something which was
treated relatively sympathetically. She was a very beautiful
girl. Somehow or other she managed with the assistance of
others in bringing her attackers to their own gross and
disturbing deaths, inevitably including their own mutilation.
Then I saw her in another film where this time she had her
legs cut off with an axe just below the hips and spent the
rest of the film hobbling about as just a torso. Not
surprising the last film I saw her in she was repeatedly
gang-raped and then tortured until her death. This film had
very little pretence of a plot. And I can't imagine she could
have enjoyed even the smallest part of it."
Sharon didn't enjoy the idea of Buggery television very
much. "Can't we change the subject," she suggested. "Look
at the sky!"
She pointed up at the half moon through the lattice of
branches in the wood. Overhead there was a faint roar of an
aeroplane going by. The two friends watched the
aeroplane's tail lights sadly.
"That's where we ought to be!" Tracey said.
"I'd do anything to be watching a normal game show on
television," Sharon mused. "To go in a pub and get a pint
of lager. Get really pissed, and get fucked by some fat
greasy slob with spew down his tee-shirt."
Buttercup sighed. "I'm sure we'll get there. I see on your
map that we can't be too far from the front with Buggery."
"It's still fucking thirty miles. And it's not all fucking
woods," Sharon elaborated.
"Two days!" mused Tracey leaning her head wearily on
Buttercup's shoulder, long hair brushing against her face.
"At fifteen miles a day, we'll do it in two days!"
For More : http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/Bradley_Stoke/www
--
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
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