Drowned

“Please,” the terrified blonde begged. “If you have any humanity in you, you’ve got to save me.” Tears were streaming down her cheeks. “I just came in here to have a little fun. To fuck some guy I didn’t know. I didn’t come in here to die. YOU CAN’T LET ME DIE. Please... please.”

Her eyes darted from face to face, searching for some shred of hope. Some shred of decency. What type of monsters were they to just stand by and watch a person perish? Not even to lift a finger to help.

It was Joseph who finally spoke, “You are not going to die. You are a victim of Hollywood. The quicksand is not going to ‘pull you under’. You are not going to drown.”

As he talked, he looked around for a fallen branch. When he finally found one, the African-American male extended one end of it to the terrified naked white woman. When she grabbed hold of it, the two men pulled her from the pit. Not an easy task, since the clinging sediment defied easy withdrawal from its grip.

“Now you can die if you are stuck in quicksand,” Joseph conceded. “But it would be from sunstroke, dehydration, hypothermia. Or... from predatory animals. Especially if you are already passed out.”

Behind the woman who was coated from the waist down in the muck, Scott was busy handcuffing her wrists. The older man pointed out, "You can also die of drowning if there is a rising tide."

"Well, yeah," Joseph reluctantly agreed. Already he was fondling her boobs, hefting them in his palms like ripe cantaloupes. His thumbs scraped across her nipples, tweaking them into hardness. "If you are near the ocean. But Pittsburgh is pretty far from the coast."

"Alright," Scott said to the blonde."Let's get you back to our camp and hose you down. You look like a kid who has spent the afternoon making mudpies."

He gave her fat ass a resounding smack.

On the way back, Scott gave Joseph instructions. There were several three-foot long steel stakes in the van. Scott wanted Joseph to drive two of them into the slate retaining wall that the landscaper had used to create a two-tier effect among the trees. The spikes should be an arm-span apart. Then he was to use two individual wrist shackles, complete with chains, to secure her arms out-stretched in crucifixion position.

"Is there a garden hose attached to that spigot near the retaining wall?" Scott asked. "I didn't happen to notice."

"I didn't either," Joseph confessed. "But if there isn't, we have one in the van."

"Oh, and put an open-mouth gag on her," Scott added as an afterthought.

It was only a matter of minutes to set up the equipment when they reached camp and the men had a good time hosing down the blonde’s womanly body. Her bare breasts were buffeted by the spray of water, and every so often Scott directed the stream into her open mouth. Held open by the gag.

“You thought you were gonna drown back,” he said as he aimed the cascade at her face, “this is what it would feel like.”

She twisted her head violently to the side, spitting out the liquid.

But even after she was squeaky clean, Scott continued to play the torrent over her body, paying particular attention to her genital area. Maybe it was the thrill of being bound naked, totally exposed to strange men. Or maybe it was the confidence that they exuded. Or it could have been her near-**** (so she thought at the time) experience. Or maybe it was just that once she knew she was safe, the lust that had first compelled her to peel off her clothing and wander aimlessly through the park had returned.

Whatever the reason, the blonde woman became increasingly aroused. Her thighs quivered and her breathing was labored. Scott noticed this and concentrated the fountain of water directly onto her pussy. Her shaking intensified, and she began to moan. Softly at first, but more and more loudly as her release approached. When the waves finally crashed over her, she let out a full-throated scream, drowning in the intensity of her orgasm.