Rough Exile

“These old nets are harder to throw,” Ilya observed.

“Heavier, too.” Bron clucked his tongue. They sounded about as bothered by my struggles as they were when one of the cows got fractious during milking. “It’s been a while since we went net fishing.”

“Not so long. I’m just used to the new ones now.”

“The new ones are so light the woman could throw one. I would have thought you were stronger than her, but first you let her escape, then you could hardly throw the net? Too much sex is making you weak.”

“And maybe if a certain twat wasn’t always getting in my way, I wouldn’t have trouble keeping one small girl in check.”

I found an area where the net had disintegrated and had a larger hole, but it was too small for me to escape from. I could probably get my arm out, but that wouldn’t help much. There was a swooping sensation as they flipped me around and pulled me into the air. When I could focus and not puke, I realized Bron had thrown the rope at the end of the net over a tree limb and hauled on it until I was suspended. They tied off the rope, leaving me dangling waist high off the ground.

“Do you think that will hold?” Ilya asked skeptically. “It’s unraveling in a few spots.”

“Am I ever wrong?”

“Well, you probably should have suggested stripping her first.”

They laughed at themselves and Bron smacked Ilya on the back.

“At least she’s wearing a skirt. It’s the panties that will make things more difficult.”

I had shifted to more or less a sitting position with my legs crossed under my long skirt. While they were pretending this was a stupid stand-up act, I’d been looking for weaknesses in the net. I needed to get out before they got any bright ideas.

Bron found a place where the net’s openings were wider and slipped his hands through, then tugged my long skirt until it reached my waist. I tried to slap his hand away, or squirm around to stop him, but he only laughed.

“Look at that,” Ilya said, grinning. “No panties.”

“An obvious invitation.”

“You’re delusional!” I tried to shove away Bron’s hand, but he pushed two fingers into my pussy, which was still damningly soaked. It wasn’t my fault I’d been turned on when Bron had so rudely interrupted.

“She complains, but do you hear her gasps? Do you hear the liquid sound of her pretty cunt?”

“Her asshole has closed up again. It was so much work to get in. I thought she was going to snap my dick in half,” Ilya grumbled.

“You’ll get better at it with practice. Just no more fucking her without my permission, or I swear I’ll beat your balls until your grandchildren feel it.” Bron patted my ass, and I winced. “You took your belt to her?”

“She disobeyed me.”

“Did you tell her to run when we were arguing?”

“No.”

“Then maybe she didn’t learn her lesson.” Bron pulled his belt free from his belt loops. The sound struck fear into me, and I tugged at the net, making it sway, not caring if the rope let go and dropped me to the ground. Ilya pulled his belt from his pocket and shook it out.

Oh no.

I shut my eyes and tensed.

There was no gradual warm up this time. They took turns hitting me, the snap, snap of the blows turning the net as I writhed inside its confines. Stinging fire licked at me, and I shrieked and begged them to stop.

“That’s probably enough.” Bron spread my ass cheeks apart. “Now show me what you were doing.”

“With her in the net?”

“Your dick will fit through those big holes. It was a net for fish, not bait.”

“Wouldn’t it be easier if she was on the ground?”

“Lazy. Get to it.”

Ilya grumbled but lowered his pants and stroked his cock under Bron’s scrutiny. It always annoyed me when they discussed me as if I wasn’t there. While Bron watched Ilya, the bulge in his own pants grew. He might think he was straight, but Ilya absolutely turned him on.

When Ilya got into position, I tried to wiggle out of the way, but Bron moved in front of me and caught me by the thighs and held me in place for him. Ilya coaxed a finger into my ass, then two. “At least her body hasn’t forgotten about me entirely.” He withdrew his fingers and forced the head of his cock into my ass again. It felt stranger than usual in this position, but there was nothing I could do except hang on to the net and angle my hips so it was less uncomfortable.

Bron chuckled. “You like her ass, Ilyusha?”

“She’s so hot inside,” he mumbled, fucking me with slow thrusts. “I love the way her body grips my cock—how it feels to be sheathed in her, like she was made for me.”

Bron slid his fingers over my pussy, his fingers slick with my arousal. I gasped when he stroked my clit, and I shuddered, my body tightening around Ilya’s cock. I whimpered.

“When she makes noises, I have to concentrate on not coming,” Ilya complained.

Bron dropped to his knees and held my labia wide, watching my empty pussy clench and shudder as Ilya filled the hole I didn’t want him in. There was the gentlest of touches on my clit—a tongue? Then more, the pleasure almost sharp. I was still sensitive there after Ilya had gone down on me, and the feel of Bron’s mouth and scratchy facial hair was almost too much to bear.

He dipped his tongue into my pussy, exploring, tasting.

“Please!” I whimpered.

Ilya groaned. “What are you doing to her? Her ass is like a fist squeezing my cock.”

“I think she wants both holes filled,” Bron observed.

“Have you done such a thing before?” Ilya asked, going still inside me. I could feel his dick pulsing. Had he come, or was he just trying to calm down? When I tried to get enough leverage to get him out of me, his fingers clamped down on my hips, keeping him sheathed deep in my guts.