Not yet.

He wasn't. Even worse, he seemed to have figured out that her head was in pain. He stroked it gently, his fingers soothing the pain for a moment, then he roughly shoved her down to her knees. She groaned when she realized what he wanted.

"That's right, bitch, make it hard again. I'm gonna ram it into your head so hard your dyke pals will hurt." He pressed her mouth to his limp cock and she reluctantly started to work on it, licking and kissing it as fiercely as she could. She only hoped to bring him to climax quickly so she wouldn't be here any longer than she had to. He seemed to enjoy her enthusiasm; sliding her tongue along his shaft, she lapped at his balls, then moving back up to swirl her tongue around the head. It was already halfway stiff.

As soon as he was fully erect again, he grabbed her by the back of the head and impaled her face on his meat. Sarah gagged and retched as the cock in her mouth and the pain in her head combined to overwhelm her. She couldn't see, her head hurt so badly. Somehow, she managed to focus on what was important: this man's cock. She **** herself to service him as skillfully as she could, gagging each time he shoved it down her throat to tighten her muscles and stimulate him further. His grip on her head was like a vise. She wrapped her lips around his shaft and stroked him with her tongue, raking him with the tips of her teeth. She was ****; she had to get him off before her ravaged skull came to pieces. Finally she felt it pound deep into her throat and she thrust her face as hard into him as she could, driving her nose into his thick, stinking pubic hair, gagging around the width of his cock as he poured spend down her throat. Anything, anything she could do, if he'd let her go back to the stockade. She'd never wanted something so desperately as to be back in the grimy pen that she had thought only this morning she would never want to see again.