Sandy's arms to the horizontal arm of the pump, then meshed the gears again. She moved up and down in a smooth rhythm. The wind power sent the arm of the pump thrusting up and down in just the right motion and speed for a nice fucking.
'Now for the good part,' he told her, positioning himself on a beam beside the unit. His prick came up between her legs. She fought to keep him away from her pussy, but she failed.
The up-and-down motion of the rocker arm made her a little dizzy. It pulled hard at her arms, them dumped her down fast. Before she could recover from that, she found herself jerked up into the air and the whole cycle was repeated. When Paul positioned himself just right, he was between her flailing legs.
The motion of the pump arm drove her cunt down directly onto his prick. She moaned softly the first time because his prick went skittering along her well-oiled cunt. The second time, he was ready for her. His prick parted her puffy cuntal-lips and drove deep into her pussy.
She screamed. It was as if a white hot spike of steel had been thrust into her cunt. Then she was sailing up and off his prick. The suddenness of the vacuum forming in her pussy made her fear that her guts would be sucked out of her body. Then she was shoved down hard onto his cock again.
The woman could barely keep up with the rapid fucking. The machine did all the work. It was tireless. She wished she could say the same. The pressure on her arms was negligible compared to the friction of his prick working so hard against her cunt-walls. Her fuck-fluids could hardly keep up with the fast fucking.
'Really great, isn't it?' he sighed. 'This is the best Goddamned fucking I ever heard of as long as the windmill turns, the pump arms work and that keeps you moving up and down on my pecker. I love it! I Goddamned fucking love it!'
He relaxed, but the woman couldn't. She felt his prick enter and leave her cunt. Each time he penetrated her, she thought he would split her apart.
Her tits bounced wildly from the motion of the rocker arm pump, but – it was in her pussy that all the hot and heavy action was going down. She was totally filled with cock one second and then empty the next.
She didn't understand what happened, but she came hard. She shuddered and cried out, but nothing helped. The machine kept mindlessly shoving his prick into her seething cunt. She felt the friction burning her up inside and there was nothing she could do to stop it.
Then came the hot rush of his jism. He filled her to overflowing and that helped to lubricate her pussy. But the pump arm kept flinging her up and pulling her down with the same motion. She had never felt more frustrated in her life. She wanted to fuck faster, five times faster, ten times faster! And the machine kept the pace constant.
As his prick moved out of her cunt, the man said, 'Enough of this. I've got to go tend to some stuff in the cabin. Don't go away, now, will you?'
He laughed stopped and walked off leaving her bouncing up and down on the arm of the water pump. She felt her muscles and joints ache worse than before. Sandy hated him with all her soul at that moment. Anything that she could do to punish Paul, she would.
But being tied up and left outside on the arm of a pump didn't give her much chance to accomplish revenge. She rocked up and down, sobbing softly to herself.
CHAPTER EIGHT
She didn't know exactly how long Paul let her stay on the arm of the pump. For once in her life, she prayed for no wind at all. She was sick and dizzy from the motion. The more she struggled against the ropes tying her to the arm of the pump, the tighter the knots became. Paul was obviously expert at tying people up.
Around noon, if she guessed right by the position of the sun, Paul returned and looked her over. The sight of her naked body on the arm of the pump excited him. She could see the bulge at the crotch of his pants grow as he stood, staring at her.
The sight of her was delectable. The woman's tits moved in small circles as she rocked up and down on the pump arm. Her legs separated nicely to reveal the inky blackness of her push. Pink cunt-lips yawned wide just under the downward-pointing tip of her triangular pussy-mound. He knew how luscious that cunt was; he had fucked it enough limes to want more of its tightness around his prick.
'Me you ready to go inside?' he asked.
'Yes,' she cried out, hardly able to speak without banging her teeth together in a loud clack. The jerking motion of the pump arm made her afraid she might bite her tongue off if she tried calling him all the names she had thought up.
'Okay. You've got to promise not try and escape like you've done before. Otherwise, I'll have to severely discipline you. Do you understand what I'm saying?'
She would have agreed to anything to get free of the moving arm. It made her entire body ache, but most of all, her pussy hurt like hell. Not since she'd lost her cherry had she felt this sore. She could hardly bear any more of this torture.
He freed her and she collapsed to the ground, panting like a dog. She stayed on hands and knees for a moment, then saw her chance. A discarded axe handle was partially hidden under the pump rig. She gripped it and swung with all her might. She would have killed Paul if the tip of the axe handle hadn't been deflected by part of the steel rig holding the pump.
As it was, she gave him enough of a blow to knock him out. She dropped the axe handle and ran for the house. She wanted clothing and she wanted keys to the car and she wanted to get the fuck away from this place.
Sandy stopped dead in her tracks when she entered the cabin. Changes had been made in the once-tasteful decor. In the center of the room stood a pair of wooden stocks like the Puritans used to use on their criminals. A space was cut in the wood for a head and on either side were smaller holes for the victim's hands. Below was a complex contraption which obviously held the ankles, but could be adjusted to hold the legs apart at different distances. Whoever ended up in the stocks could be stood there with feet close together or spread painfully wide apart.
She had no doubt that she was intended to occupy these stocks and that Paul would spread her legs wide using the contraption. He could fuck her from behind at his leisure. A shiver passed through her body as she realized how close she'd come to really being his sex slave.
She found her clothes didn't bother with bra or panties and buttoned the rough wool shirt and pulled up the jeans around her tight, tensed ass.
The rough wool massaged her nipples, stimulating them more than she cared to think about. The rough denim fabric pressed into her crotch and rubbed her raw. What stimulation she got out of the shirt was offset by the discomfort of the jeans pressing along her cunt-lips.
She searched through the man's possessions until she found his car keys. Grabbing them, she turned and ran from the house. She had no idea if she'd killed Paul – she didn't think so – and if he would be coming after her.
Sandy slipped behind the wheel of the car, thrust the key into the ignition and began grinding the engine. It refused to catch. She pressed the key harder and hoped this would make the engine start. It didn't.
'Missing something?' came the cold voice at her ear. She turned and saw Paul's face only inches away. He held up his hand, displaying a black rod made from plastic. 'The rotor,' he said, as if that explained things to her.
'What?' she stammered.
'Out of the Goddamned car. Now!' He yanked open the door and she felt herself sail through the air and land painfully on the ground. In a flash, he was behind her, binding her hands with rough hemp cord.
'Don't do this to me! Please!'
'Shut your mouth, slut. I'll do what I want to with you. I warned you about trying to escape and this is going to be it for you!'
She believe him.
He easily picked up her body and carried her into the cabin. He didn't bother untying her hands. They were
