The Okefenokee Swamp was beautiful that June morning. It was shortly after 9, and the heat of the day was slowly seeping in like floodwater. I’d expected mosquitoes, but it was as if they too had decided to take a day off. I was sitting on an 8-foot by 8-foot platform, which is what passes for a camping site out here in the swamp. My small canoe was tied up, and I had all my fishing gear out. I had planned a full weekend of fishing, canoeing and getting the fuck away from Atlanta.
This week was DominationCon, the biggest, grandest bondage and domination convention of the year. Men would be strutting in leather, women would be making promises that they had no intention of keeping with sexy outfits, and vendors would be selling $10 handcuffs for 50 bucks. For four days, kinky people would be yelling at each other about the right way to tie up a submissive, and cliques would be fervently trying to outdo each other in imaginary protocol rules. Being the best dom in five counties, I would be expected to attend, give a few lectures and settle a few arguments.
Fuck that, I went fishing. I went to the most forsaken part of Georgia: the Okefenokee Swamp. There are no roads, just 600 miles of swampland. You have to get a permit to spend the night here, and the best you can hope for campground is this rickety platform. Your only company is gators and fish with the occasional swamp monster sighting. The Okefenokee is as empty as DominationCon is crammed with people, and that’s just fine with me.
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There was no such thing as quiet in the swamp, but it was peaceful. Bugs buzzed, fish splashed, other creatures rustled while the wind whistled and snaked its way through the trees. To be honest, it was damn loud. That was OK, though. At least it wasn’t people or Celtic chanting, which seems to have become popular dungeon music. I just sat and fished with the dull roar of nature as my soundtrack.
My peace and quiet lasted about 10 minutes. I heard the gentle splash of paddles on water and I groaned. Six hundred miles of swamp, and some jackass in a boat was making their way towards me. The thought occurred to me that I should have brought a banjo because nothing scares off men in the wilds like the sound of a banjo. Oh, well, I made a mental note to do that next time. For now, I settled on looking surly and kept on fishing.
What came paddling by made me reconsider my banjo idea. There were two women in a little canoe. Both of them had long hair as dark as Georgia molasses. Their skin was tanned a golden bronze, which was a welcome sight after all the pale Goth girls that fill the dungeons these days. I could admire their bodies because they weren’t wearing much clothing. They wore plain brown dresses with plunging necklines that revealed sweaty tanned breasts. The lack of sleeves on the dresses showed off their very muscular arms, arms that could snap the necks of most of the doms at DominationCon. There wasn’t a spot of makeup to be seen on either of them, nor any jewelry, not even a hairclip. They were as anti-Atlanta as two pretty girls could get.
“Is there room for two more?” the girl in the front of the boat asked. It was her smile that snared me. It was the smile of someone who just got lucky. I may be a dom but I’m a man first, and my male pride liked the idea of being this woman’s catch of the day.
“Sure, come ashore,” I said. “My name is Timothy Kyle Vance, and who might you two be?”
The girl in the back answered for them. She had a smile, too, but although it was sexual in nature, it was far less friendly. “My name is Daisy, and this is my sister Sally.”
Those were not the names I would have given these girls. These gals looked like Pocahontas’s sexy cousins, and they had names more fitting for Georgia farm girls. Oh, well, crazy parents giving weird names are a tradition in the South. I didn’t give it a second thought. I put down my fishing rod and reached out a hand to help the ladies on board. Sally took my hand, and I got an eyeful down her dress and saw that she was lacking both a bra and panties. Daisy refused my help and climbed onto the platform by the sheer power of her muscular arms. They were both lacking shoes, and their feet were splattered with today’s mud. That was so different from the Atlanta Angels I normally date that I actually had to take a deep breath to slow down my fluttering heart.
“How’s the fishing?” Sally asked. She sat down beside me with her fishing rod.
“Not bad,” I said. “I just started but have already got me a nice bluegill.”
Daisy sat down on the other side of me, which surprised me. I’d thought she would keep her distance. She sat close enough to me that her bare knee rubbed against mine. “This is one of the better spots. We always catch something delicious here.”
Well, I guess she didn’t dislike me if she was flirting already. It was rare, but even I misread women sometimes. Maybe I wasn’t used to country girls.
“So, you ladies come fishing here often?” I asked.
Daisy’s smile returned, and this time it struck me as a little feral. “Every day as soon as spring starts. That’s when all the big fish come out.”
I was trying to figure out if that was a double entendre or just a single when I felt Sally’s hand on my other knee. I turned to her and her big, wide, happy eyes.
“What do you do outside the swamp?” she asked.
That was an odd way to ask the question, but I was happy to oblige. “I’m a consultant.”
The blank look in her eyes told me she had no clue. “I tell people what to they need to do in order to do the things they want to do. They hire me to tell them things their employees are too afraid to hear.”
That she understood. “So you’re like Aunt Missy. She’s always telling Mom things she don’t want to hear. Like when the gators need to be fed, or when a baby is going to be a boy, or when it’s —”
Daisy interrupted her sister by placing her hand on my thigh, which worked quite well, let me tell you. “Sally, Timothy doesn’t want to hear about our family. He came here to fish, right?”
“No, Ma’am, I don’t mind,” I said. “What’s this about feeding gators? Does your family run a farm?”
Sally almost answered, but a pursing of Daisy’s lips stopped her. “Something like that,” Daisy said. “Let’s be quiet and fish now. The noise will spook the fish.”
I knew they were holding something back, but you know what? Fuck it. I did come here to relax, and I wasn’t going to pry into family business. Besides, I had two pretty girls sharing my fishing spot, and they were offering to be quiet. Could it get any better than this?
So we fished. Just because we were quiet didn’t mean the swamp stayed quiet, though. The bugs buzzed, the wind rustled and the dock creaked as we kept our tongues still. The girls stayed as close as they were, which was real nice. The touch of a thigh against a knee or an elbow against a dress-covered breast kept the mind thinking pleasant thoughts. Most of them were dirty thoughts, but they were all pleasant.
At some point, Daisy let her hand rest high on my thigh. That was mighty fine with me. As if it was some sort of cue, Sally leaned all the way back and rested her head on my fishing tackle. Her short dress rode up high on her legs, and I swear I caught the sight of a little bit of authentic Georgia peach fuzz. She caught me looking between her thighs and winked.
I was pondering a response when Daisy took my free hand and placed it on her thigh. I turned to look at her, and the mischief in her eyes dared me to say anything. She guided my hand up and down her thigh so I could feel the muscles rippling underneath. She moved my hand between her thighs, and I felt the summer heat of her sex.
That is Sally slipped her hand under the back of my shirt. Her nails dragged across my back gently, sending shivers down my spine. When my back arched, she slung her leg over my legs, which effectively pulled her dress right past any sense of decency. I looked down to see that her pubic hair was as thick and tangled as any of the brush here in the Okefenokee.
“I am thinking you ladies have carnal intentions upon my body,” I said. Southern manners prevented me from inquiring whether this would cost me any money.
“What does that mean?” Sally asked.
“It means he knows we want to fuck him,” Daisy replied.
“Do you two do this often?” I asked.
Sally laughed. “You’re the first catch of the summer,” she said.
Daisy had a more direct answer. She grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in for a kiss. It was a hard kiss, with more savagery than passion. Her mouth forced mine open, and her tongue plunged in. I recognized that kind of kiss. It was a claiming.
Two could play at that game. The flimsy material of her dress gave no protection as I cupped a breast in my hand. My other hand searched for the nipple on the other breast, and I easily found it. I crushed her one breast in my hand while my fingers twisted her nipple with the same force she was kissing my mouth. I didn’t hold anything back as I mauled her tits. She tried to resist, but after a minute, she broke the kiss and growled from the abuse I was giving her lovely breasts.
We looked at each other, and her eyes were willful and unrepentant. Damn, that was hot.
Before I could say anything, Sally had sat back up and had unzipped my shorts. My cock sprang free of my boxers, and her hand snatched it like a heron grabbing fish. Her touch was just as rough as her sister’s but a bit more respectful. She gave me a wicked look before swooping down to duplicate what her hand did with her mouth. In one gulp she took all of my cock between her lips. Her nose and chin buried themselves in my crotch while my cock went down her throat.
“Oh, fuck,” I said. Instincts took over, and I grabbed a handful of Sally’s black hair. I wound that thick hair around my fist as Sally started to suck. I hesitated for a moment cause I realized that it’s been so long since I’d had sex with non-BDSM gals. Maybe ordinary country girls wouldn’t appreciate having their hair pulled into a natural leash. As I paused, Sally groaned, and her sucking took on a more desperate enthusiasm. I decided she was just fine with it and tightened my grip on her hair. The whimpering moans told me I’d made the right choice.
Daisy regained her courage. She pushed me down till I was lying on my back. With the sun shining behind her, she stood up and pulled her dress over her head. I watched her sunbaked body as she stood directly over me. Her body eclipsed the sun as she lowered her cunt down to my face. Like a fish gasping for the hook, I opened my mouth and happily took her pussy. My tongue delved into her, and the sharp tangy juices just seemed to spill into my mouth.
Powerful thighs gripped my head as Daisy rode my face. Her hands grabbed my hair just as tightly as I was holding her sister’s. With my head locked in place, Daisy fucked my face with the urgent passion I had come to expect from her. It’d been a long time since I let a woman ride my face, and the novelty of the moment was why I permitted it. It also didn’t hurt that my cock was being so wonderfully sucked by Sally. A man, even a dom like myself, can tolerate a lot if his cock is being deep-throated.
Daisy fucked my face, but I gave it back to her. When she ground her cunt against my lips, I would find a nice bit of pussy lip to bite till she slowed down. When her thighs squeezed my head like she was squeezing lemons, my mouth would suck her clitoris till her thighs loosened from the overwhelming sensation. When Daisy sealed her sex over my mouth and nose for her own pleasure, a sudden slap to her ass with my free hand taught her to let me breathe.
When my lips started to tingle from the face-fucking, I decided that it was time to take a direct hand in things. I pulled Sally off my cock by her hair, and I slapped Daisy’s thigh till she got the message to dismount. After wiping the pussy juice off my face, I took charge of the situation.
“Sally, why don’t you spread your legs here, and I can give your cunt what your mouth has been tasting. Daisy, you if you don’t mind waiting, I’ll give you a fucking, too.”
Sally grinned and did exactly as I asked. She laid back and spread those long tanned legs into an almost straight line. Her sex glistened in the summer sun, and I couldn’t wait to sink my myself into that lovely quicksand.
Daisy had other ideas.
“I don’t think so,” she said. “You lie down and we’ll mount you.”
“No,” I said. Now, I have had enough threesomes to know that a little bit of compromise goes a long way, but I have also had enough threesomes that I don’t roll over and accommodate the people involved just to make sure the threesome happens. Ordinarily, I would have been happy to lie down and let these beautiful country women mount me, but I was a bit put off by Daisy’s attitude. I was suppressing my dom side as it was by not doing a little spanking and a little pinching, but I wasn’t going to be her obedient fucktoy either.
We looked at each other like dogs gearing up for a fight. Daisy’s eyes were lowering into slits, while I was slowly tilting my head up so I could look down at her. This wasn’t about how we were going to fuck. This was about who was going to be the fucker and who was getting fucked. Such things may seem silly to you, but to someone of my nature, once the question has been raised, it’s impossible for me to ignore. I could tell that it was the same for Daisy.
Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that Sally was stroking herself. Damn, I think this was turning her on. She was watching the two of us and sinking her fingers into her cunt. The squishy sounds joined the other sounds of the swamp and seemed perfectly natural. Sally looked at us as if we were some sort of porn.
“Sally, get the rope,” Daisy said.
Sally stopped stroking. “Aw, Daisy. I wanted to do it without the rope this time.”
What the fuck? “What’s this about rope?”
For an answer, Daisy punched me in the stomach. I didn’t see that coming. I doubled over in pain, but the pain was quickly replaced with pure anger. Did this swamp woman think I was some sort of soft city wimp?
My hand lashed out and grabbed her wrist. When she tried to pull it away, I swung my other hand and slapped her across the face. Long dark hair went flying as her head spun from the blow. She froze and just glared at me. I slapped her face again, just to punctuate how pissed I was. Part of me was just too bewildered at what had happened to know what to do next.
“Sally, get the gator fucking rope!” Daisy yelled.
“Sally, sit your ass right there!” I thundered. It was my dom voice, and I’m proud to say the pretty little lady didn’t move an inch.
Daisy’s face transformed into pure indignant rage. Weirdly enough, it was the same look I’d once seen on a professional dominatrix. Daisy lunged at me and tackled me to the shaky wooden deck. This crazy woman didn’t bite and scratch like a city girl would fight. Oh no, it was punching, kicking and at one point, a mighty powerful chokehold with those biceps of hers. The bitch had wrestled before, and if her sister wasn’t going to help, then she was more than ready to do it herself.
I don’t know how long Daisy and I grappled, but it seemed like forever. She was strong, vicious and not afraid to elbow me in the crotch when the opportunity arose. The wooden deck shook and rattled as we wrestled, and there were times I was afraid it was going to collapse and dump us all in the water. At other times, I was pretty distracted by the press of naked breasts against my face or the feeling of a limber thigh wrapping around my waist. Fighting is hard enough without an erection, and Daisy just saw erections as something else to grab and twist.
The warrior swamp princess might have been athletic, nasty and mean, but she was dealing with a Southern boy raised on professional wrestling and forced to date in Atlanta, where every man, woman and child has a gym membership. I busted out moves on her that I learned from watching Dusty Rhodes and Ric Flair. My body took her punches and kicks with the same stoic pain management that it uses to handle an hourlong workout at Bally’s. It took a while, and I certainly got bruised, but eventually I was sitting on Daisy’s back with her arms pinned under my knees and her face held down by an elbow.
I looked at Sally, who had done nothing during this entire battle. I worried that with her sister down, Sally might feel some family urge to kick my ass. What I saw on her face made me chuckle despite my bruised jaw. Her face was lit with the glow of sex and worship.
“Sally, get the rope,” I said.
“Sally, don’t you dare help him!”
I leaned a certain way, and Daisy gasped for air. “Quiet, you.”
Sally scampered over to their boat and came bag with a large sack. She dumped the sack, and damn if I didn’t see some of the finest homemade rope I have ever laid eyes on. There was about 50 feet of the stuff, triple corded and strong as steel. There were other things in the sack as well: scarves that would work perfectly as gags, two hoods and several very sharp-looking knives. The only thing missing was that banjo I was thinking of earlier.
“Help me hold down your sister, and then you and I are going to talk,” I told Sally.
Sally frowned. “Are we not going to fuck?”
My cock surged. “Oh, we’ll be fucking, too.”
“All right then,” she said.
Daisy started cursing again, so I jammed one of the scarves in her mouth as a gag. Sally sat on her sister’s back while I went to work with the rope. Daisy was worn out from our wrestling, and it took no time to bind her nude body. I may have taken my time binding up her tits, and I spent a little too much time making sure her arms were not in a comfortable position behind her back. I also added about a half-dozen thick knots to the part of the rope that wrapped down over her cunt so she that if she struggled, she would be stroking her clit and sex with the rope. When I was done, Daisy was lying on her side, practically immobilized except for an inch or two of squirming room.
“”Are we going to fuck now?” Sally asked. She had lost her dress completely, and the sun just loved her tanned body.
“Well, Sally, I am a little concerned about the knives and other stuff,” I said. “So just to be safe, I’m gong to tie you up a little, too. Not as much as I did your sister, but enough that you won’t be able to hurt me or rescue her. Is that all right with you?”
Daisy struggled hard and tried to say something through her gag. I didn’t know what she was saying, but the sentiment was easy to figure out.
“Mom is going to be pissed,” Sally said, “but I’ve never been tied up before. We always tie the men up when we have sex. I’ve always wanted to try it.”
Always tied the men up? Interesting. Because Sally was cooperating, she was easier to tie. I tied her hands behind her back, folding her forearms over one another. I bound her ankles together but left her thighs free so I could access her cunt. The rope went under her tits, lifting them up for my enjoyment. For fun, I wrapped it a few times around her neck to give her a nice rope collar. When I was done, she could hobble around on her knees, but she wouldn’t be able to attack me if I got too distracted with fucking her.
Sally was on her knees when I was finished, and I was squatting in front of her. I played with both her nipples, groping and squeezing them till I found just the right way to make her moan. Yes, I can be gentle when I need to, but what really made Sally moan was when I twisted her nipples almost a full circle. It warms my heart when I meet a natural masochist.
“So tell me about the men you tie up,” I said. I gave each nipple a nice little twist as incentive.
“Why you want to hear about them?” Sally said. “Hey, why you stop?”
“Tell what I want, and I won’t stop,” I said.
“Mom says it’s not natural to let men do the sex,” Sally continued. I gave her nipples another tweak, and she kept talking. “So Mom has a rule that we have to tie up the men for sex every time or else they get ideas.”
I leaned forward and bit a nipple. “What kind of ideas?”
“Oh, yes. Umm, stuff like how they shouldn’t have to do all the cooking. Or how they don’t want to sew the clothes and how they don’t want to sleep in the husband pen.”
I stopped biting. “You keep the husbands in a pen? Is that some sort of kennel?”
Sally nodded. “Oh, yes. If we don’t, then they might run away in the night.”
I bit down hard on her nipple. What the hell are these girls involved in? Sally trembled as I nibbled and thought about what she had told me. I pulled my head back and pulled her nipple with my teeth till it popped loose of my lips.
“Where the hell do you girls live?” I asked.
Daisy thrashed some more, trying to say something through her gag. Sally looked at her sister and hesitated. The girl was horny and excited, but obviously what I’d asked was some big secret.
To help Sally make her choice, I reached down between her legs. Her cunt lips were soaked from the summer heat and her own desire. My finger slipped right into her, and I gave her a few hard thrusts. I then pulled my finger out real slow like, to give her a moment to think about what she was missing.
“We live in the swamp,” Sally said. Daisy moaned in despair. “We have a hidden place where no one can find us.”
My finger was almost out of her. “Are you bullshitting me?”
“No, no!” Sally protested. “Honest. We’ve lived there for generations. Mom said our family has lived there since before the white men came. We’ve always lived in the swamp because it’s the one place where men don’t want to stay. They don’t know how to treat the gators and the snakes so it’s too dangerous for them. Mom says men are wimps and always have been.”
I finger-fucked her a bit harder to let her know what I thought of that last statement. Sally gasped, and she bit her lip hard. She was so wet that her cunt just seemed to suck my finger right in. Sometimes, she would rise up on her knees; the sexual energy pent up inside her trying to find a physical release somehow. Of course, I slowed down any time I thought an orgasm was coming. I needed her horny if I was going to learn any more.
“So you two come from a group of women that lives out in the Okefenokee Swamp and keep men in cages, and nobody knows about it? How the hell do you get any new men?”
Sally’s eyes lost that sexual glow and betrayed a little bit of shame. My finger froze in mid-thrust as my brain finally put the pieces together. Over in the corner, I think Daisy might have actually laughed.
“You grab guys who come to the swamp!” I said. “You were going to grab me!”
Sally almost lied but thought better of it. “We only grab the good-looking ones,” she offered. “And the ones by themselves. And the ones that are not too old. It’s easier to train the younger ones. But we would treat you real nice, honest! All our menfolk are fed and fucked and hardly ever beaten.”
I snorted at that last comment. “And what do you do with the ones that don’t want to stay in your little Amazon swamp paradise?”
Sally had that look like she was about to lie again. I pulled my finger completely out and wiped the juices on her tit.
“Wait!” she said. “We, umm, well Mom feeds them to the gators. But only if they are really bad! Like giving too much backtalk or trying to run away. Some of them don’t like that we share husbands, and they get possessive and really misbehave. We don’t kill all the menfolk. A lot of them die of fever because men are so weak.”
Holy shit. This was just too fucking weird. I stood up and walked over to their boat. Sally started whining, but I ignored her. I took a good look at their fishing poles and noticed how old they were. I examined their dresses, which had been stitched together out of very worn cloth. I went through everything they had, from the rope to the knives to even their boat, and it was all either homemade or over 10 years old. I don’t know if her story about a secret swamp matriarchy was true, but damn if everything they had didn’t support it.
“You’re mad, aren’t you?” Sally pouted. “I knew when I saw you wrestling Daisy that you weren’t half as weak as the men we usually get. I was hoping to have you to myself before I had to share you with my sisters and aunts. Now we’re not going to fuck at all, are we?”
I laughed. “Do you want to fuck, Sally?” I walked over to her and grabbed her hair as hard as I could. Her head tilted back at me, and her breasts jutted forward.
“Do you really want to fuck the way I would fuck you? I’m not one of your fishermen catches who apparently don’t mind sleeping in a kennel. I’m not the one who’ll be tied up. If I fuck you, it’ll be the way I want to fuck, and it’ll be as hard, mean and nasty as I want to fuck. I’ll fuck you like you fuck your husbands, and you’ll never be able to fuck them again without thinking of how I fucked you. If that scares you, then I’ll be a hell of a lot nicer than you were to your husbands, and I’ll let you two go back to your fucked up secret home. You and your sister can leave right now if you like.”
Sally shook her head no, well as much as my grip in her hair would let her.
“So you want me to fuck you?” I said.
“Yes,” Sally said. “Fuck me. Make me your husband.”
I snorted. “I got your meaning, but don’t ever say that again.”
With her hair in hand, I pulled her forward till her face was down on the dock. Her ass stayed in the air, and she spread her thighs as much as her bound ankles would let her. I placed a hand on her bottom and gave her a little slap as I walked behind her. My cock was hard and ready as I knelt down behind her.
Daisy groaned and I looked over at her. Her eyes expressed hatred, though whether it was for me or her traitorous sister, I don’t know. I do know that her nude body looked wonderful bound as it was. I took my cock in hand and made sure Daisy could see it as I buried it into her sister’s cunt.
“Great Sun Mother!” Sally cried. Who the Sun Mother was, I could not have cared less. My cock was inside this wild child of the swamp, and her pussy was as hot, wet and slick as the swamp itself. Her cunt pulsed around my cock, trying to suck me in and trap me inside her forever.
“Are you ready, Sally?” I asked.
“Yes, please, yes!” she said.
I fucked her. I fucked the bound woman on the dock while her sister watched. My fingers dug into Sally’s hips while I used her cunt for my pleasure. After all the teasing, sucking, face-riding, wrestling and tying, I needed this fuck. My cock rammed into Sally’s body with the stress of the day behind every push. I should have gone slow, I should have paced myself a little, but fuck it. After all the shit I’d been through that day, I just wanted to fuck a slut who was asking for it.
Sally wailed as I fucked her. It worried me at first, but I got used to it. It was an eerie cry of need. Sally was moaning for the sex she had always wanted but wasn’t allowed to have. She was crying out her joy at being fucked and at the same time mourning the loss of never being able to do this again. The poor woman was a natural submissive in a female-dominant lifestyle. You could hear it in every whimpering moan and feel it in every clench of her cunt. When she climaxed — and she did at least four times — her wail turned into a shriek and then died back down into that low sad wail again.
Meanwhile, Daisy watched. She saw how a man uses a woman, and it had to be blowing her mind. What I didn’t expect was that I saw her shifting her hips every so slightly. She was humping against the knots on her sex and doing her damn best to hide it. I don’t know if it was us turning her on or just her own urgent need, but the woman was getting herself off with the ropes I’d tied her with. That turned me on even more, and I decided to indulge in Sally’s body in other ways.
I pulled out of Sally and pushed her body so she fell on her side. She groaned, and I saw her hips continue their humping as if she could summon my cock back inside her. I grabbed her by the ankles and rolled her over on her back, and then mounted her chest. My cock flopped right between her breasts, and she watched as I squeezed her tits around it. Her eyes grew wide, and I knew she had never seen this before. Poor backwoods swamp slut.
“Please put it back inside me!” she said. No, she commanded. Sally was used to getting what she wanted.
“No,” I said and then I slapped her tits. She cried out, and I backhanded them with my cock still between them. The girl squirmed underneath me in pain as I slapped both tits over and over. Her plump, tanned breasts jiggled under my slaps and slowly darkened as my slapping increased. Back and forth, back and forth I smacked her breasts while my cock pulsed between them. Sally screamed, cursed and at one point threatened me, but I just kept slapping her large round tits.
Finally, her protests were just moans and whimpers. Tears were rolling from her eyes, and her struggling was just a weak kicking with her heels. Her breasts were hot to the touch, which is exactly how I like them for tit-fucking.
I pulled her tits tight around my cock and started pumping. She looked down at the cock that emerged from between her breasts and disappeared back between her mounds. Her tits were so tender that every thrust hurt, but I could see the comprehension dawning on her face. I didn’t do this for her, I did it for me, and although it hurt like hell, she began to smile through the pain.
As for Daisy, the bound woman was a little more blatant in her humping of the rope. Her whole body was squirming and struggling against it. I would have worried that she was trying to get free except for the deepening blush that was forming on her face.
Sally’s breasts were wonderful to fuck, but the hard wooden deck was killing my knees. I got off her chest and Sally moaned with disappointment. Ah, how quickly women can change their minds. I grabbed her by the hair and dragged her hobbled, crawling body over to where I had set my ice cooler. The cooler served as a chair as I sat my ass down and spread my legs. My cock throbbed inches from Sally’s face and she tried to reach it with her tongue. She was held back by my grip in her hair.
“Keep your tongue out,” I said.
She obeyed. I let her head come down just close enough that the tip of my cock rested against her outstretched tongue. She licked it, and I reached down and painfully squeezed a sore breast.
“I said keep your tongue out. Don’t lick or do anything till I tell you.”
Sally whimpered and stuck her tongue back out. I placed my cock back on her tongue, and she held it there. Perfectly still she stayed, this beautiful kneeling woman with her tongue out. She wanted to suck me, but she stayed right where she was, bound by ropes but keeping still purely because of my will. My cock was heavy on her tongue, and she could taste her cunt and breasts but she didn’t budge an inch.
Daisy kept humping. She didn’t care anymore. Our eyes met and I still saw the hatred, but she kept humping. Her climax was coming, and she wanted me to know that this she did in spite of me, not because. I wonder if she believed that herself. With her sister’s tongue holding up my cock, I watched as Daisy brought herself to a long, body-shuddering climax.
That was my cue. I reached for my cock and started stroking. Sally’s eyes looked up at me, and her tongue quivered but she kept still. I stroked myself fast and hard. I stroked myself for those poor bastards stuck in a kennel. I stroked myself for the husbands outside the swamp who are kept in cages formed by marriage, tradition or just plain old pussy-whipping. I pumped my cock for all the guys who would never know the joy of what it is like take a strong woman and use her with not only her cooperation, but her full obedient blessing.
My cock erupted and sprayed cum onto Sally’s face. She closed her eyes just in time. She made me proud by keeping her tongue out as my heavy load covered her face. I stroked throughout my climax, doing my best to get out every drop and mark every inch of her face with my seed.
She sat there, cum dripping from her face, as I found my shorts and got my gear together. She hadn’t moved, not even when I cut her wrists and arms free of the rope. Sally stayed there kneeling, occasionally touching her face and licking her fingers.
“Come back with us,” she said. Daisy was still gagged and bound, but I could feel the hostility radiate from her as it does from a water moccasin you’re about to step on.
“Come back with us,” Sally said again. “Mom will meet you and she’ll see that you’re a strong man and that not all men are weak. You can stay with us and fuck me whenever you want. I have other sisters; they’ll like you too.”
“Oh, Sally, it ain’t that simple,” I said. “First of all, there’s nothing wrong with women being in charge of men. I know a half-dozen guys in Atlanta who would happily go live with you right now. The only problem is when you start feeding them to gators and, you know, keeping them prisoner. That’s the wrong part. It isn’t that all women are strong or all men are strong, it’s that some men like to be in charge and some women like to be the ones on top. They just need to find people who want to be the ones in the kennel. If I went back to your place, your mom and I would fight, and I have a feeling her gators would be the winners.”
Sally touched her sore breast and winced. “So you’re just going to leave?”
“Yep,” I said. “But Sally, you’re going to go back and tell your mom about this. And Daisy is going to tell your mom about this, and who knows, maybe you ladies will do things a little differently. Like, I don’t know, asking guys before you kidnap them. And stopping with the gator feeding.”
Sally nodded. “I’ll go right now and tell Mom!”
“How about you wait till I leave first?” I asked. “Just in case your mom’s gators are hungry.”
She smiled. “That’s fair. Will I ever see you again?”
“Oh, sure,” I lied. “I’ll be back next year, same time.”
I walked over to Daisy and thought about maybe groping the bound naked lady, but I refrained. That would have been bad manners. I liked to think I saw some respect in her eyes as I left, but I have a feeling she was just imaging me being killed by her family. Oh, well, fucking sisters is always complicated.
It took me six hours of fast paddling to get the hell out of the Okefenokee Swamp. I could have sworn I heard the paddling of other boats, but I never saw anyone following me. Once in a while, I thought I caught sight of black hair or heard the sound of a giggling woman. I had just gotten laid, but my nerves were jumping all the way out of the swamp.
I tried telling some park rangers about what I had seen, but they just snickered at me. Crazy swamp women capturing fishermen and fucking them? Shit, why didn’t I throw in a swamp monster while I was at it? Fuckers didn’t believe me at all. I asked how many fishermen they had lost over the years, and I got some vague speech about the dangers of gators and the stupidity of the average fisherman. Assholes.
That’s why I don’t plan to ever go back to the Okefenokee. For that matter, it might be awhile before I leave Atlanta. Country girls are sexy and hot, but their families are fucking crazy.