Skeleton Crew

Photomanips by Piston Thorn. Caption by Mr. K.

1.           

The first one struck me hard across the face with a right cross. He was rewarded with a groan as I stumbled sideways, my head snapping to the side, my legs buckling. He followed up with a sharp, beautiful uppercut, digging it in up under my ribs. My air escaped and a wave of force lifted me up off the floor. Again, I let out a groan. There was the dull thud of a fist in the middle of my back, and the sharp force of a roundhouse kick in my ribs before I was finally allowed to fall. For a moment, there was a pause; I was a six-foot tall woman in a golden second skin, sprawled face-down. A crowd of men encircled me. The men wore skeleton costumes. They laughed and gloated.

“Not so tough now, huh bitch?”

I was a powerless woman in golden body sheath, face down on the floor of an abandoned cabin deep in the woods.

“The Frequency has shut off her powers. You see that? I told you if we just used the fucking frequency, she would be our bitch. We can do what we want with her.”

I felt the pressure of a foot in the middle of my back. My eyes were closed. I was a beaten costumed woman surrounded by costumed men.

“Bro! Take a picture of me like this!”

There was the sound of fumbling with camera phones. I would see later that he had posed himself atop my sprawled body as though he were a Victorian hunter and I was his felled prey. My hair was swirled and piled around my head so much that I wouldn’t have been able to see had my eyes been open anyway.

“Niiiice! Get her up!”

A hand grabbed my hair.  It was big and male, like all of the hands that had beaten, pushed, and pulled me that night. It was quick and merciless, but meticulous as it wrapped, and pulled, and wrapped again. Each time, the hair that he had grabbed was drawn tighter and tighter into his own personal rope.

“Gotta’ love all that natural blond!”

Finally, it was tight enough for him. My head was wrenched to the side and up, I was groaning, and he was starting to hoist me to my feet.

“Let’s see if she’s blond down below too!”

“Aw, man! Bet this bitch shaves!”

I heard them debating my body as he was pulling my head up from the floor. I was a powerless woman in a golden body sheen, at their mercy. I could feel the tiny electric shocks of my hair straining and being twisted away from my scalp. My hands came up instinctively, and two of the others took that as an offering. They grabbed my wrists and my upper arms. Their grips were like mechanical vises. The weak, average men that I had defeated only months before were now superpowered and having their way with me.

“Like that, bitch?” one of them laughed.

“You tossed us around like rag dolls when you caught us robbing that bank.”

He made it point to feel the thickness of my bicep. He dug his fingers into it.

“Now, The Frequency is sapping your power, and we’ve got our own superpower thing going on.”

I heard myself groan nnggggg. I felt my lips curl back in a pained mask of surrender. My eyes were squeezed shut. As another skeleton goon grabbed my throat, a partner of his reached down and cupped my mound. His hand was neural at first. It just cupped my lips and held my sex while his buddy’s grew tighter, choking me. The first one never stopped wrenching my hair. Soon, the one with hold of my crotch began curling his fingers, stiffening his hand into a tense and rigid claw. My lips were trapped between calloused fingers, and my clit suddenly captive below his thumb. I gave out a throaty groan. My body betrayed me and felt myself shake.

“Get her completely upright. There we go.”

They stood me up, and each hand continued to squeeze and crush. The muscles in my legs shuddered as he squeezed and kneaded my sex.  I made eye contact, now, with each man who held me captive.  My brain was faltering under the current of suffocation, but I recognized the men in the ridiculous skeleton costumes. They were as average and ridiculous as a as group of street thugs in Halloween costumes could be. I had beaten them and sent them all to jail not long ago. Now, they had me.

The one that had hold of my vulva paused, then began to crush and squeeze harder. He shook my sex , kneading the meat of my labia majora as though he were trying to juice a fruit.

“Yup! I heard she had a big pussy, and this bitch has a big ol’ pussy!”

My vulva, with its thick protruding lips, was clearly his prize for the day – that and my long clit. He pinched it and twisted it as though he had found a meaty joystick. Even as two more skeleton men jockeyed for position on my body, I squeezed, pinched and twisted my cunt. The jolts were coming up from between my thighs, and all I could do was make pathetic grunts and chirping sounds.

Somewhere, from behind this ocean of men, there came a voice. Even though I was beset by all their hands, by the curtains slowly closing around my brain, I hear a new voice coming from the shadows. It was somewhere hidden behind these men. It was refined and older, creaking a bit as it ushered itself forth. It spoke directly to me as I slowly blacked out.

“One of my goals was to properly rape you, Gold.”

 Two more of them were closing, fitting themselves into the crowd so that they could take hold of my breasts. They were crowded with the others, but they were able to fit their heads in between their bros and get their mouths and teeth affixed to me. One sank his teeth in to flesh on the side of one of my breasts – my right breast – and bit for all he was worth. His hands closed like clamps, twisting as they crushed. His buddy did the same taking my left nipple into his mouth. I could feel the teeth grind down slowly on my areola. This one also used both palms to knead me.

That voice, that older fined man, was still talking as his henchmen were groaning and grunting all around me.

“It’s been years, and you still look the same, lovely. Six feet of lovely, you are. The lovely blonde hair is even longer, I think. I had hoped to capture you and rape you with that hair stuffed in your mouth or coiled around your neck.”

As I faded into unconsciousness I could hear him continuing to talk in his smooth and relaxed tone.

It was the gaping pain that woke me. It was the thick, solid something stretching my anus that pulled me from unconsciousness. Before I was even aware of how they had bent me over and of his hands on my hips, I was lost in his wide the skeleton man had stretched me. I heard myself scream as he hauled himself back, and drove himself forward using my hips as leverage. I heard myself screaming and mewling as drove himself in, and paused. Even with his motion stopped, pain and waves of submission flowed from my asshole and through every inch of me.

I would never know, for sure, what they had bent me over. It felt like a low saw horse with its unforgiving angles and hard, coarse surface. With my golden sheath depowered, I could feel it against my skin. Looking around, I could see the costumed legs of the Skeleton Crew surrounding me like forest. They still cheered and clapped for the one that knelt behind me, but they were also watched with a sort of awe.

The one behind me grunted and started to rotate his hips. Instead of hauling back again, he ground his hip in a crude circle, driving forward, then twisting himself to the side, pulling back a bit, and grinding slowly in from another angle. I realized now, as he took his time in my asshole, that the old man still spoke. As if he had never stopped, his voice droned on, narrating the scene.

“So, you see, Gold, when we first met, I had such plans for you. I had plans for both of us. You foiled those before I could unite is in a proper union. It was going to be lovely.”

The skeleton man’s tempo grew faster now, and he demanded more of my body. Grabbing the muscular fronts my thighs, my quads, he went back to driving forward again.

“You deprived me of my chance with you, Gold, and of they use of the body I was using at the time. So, you see, Gold, I have enlisted these virile, young men. I have imparted superpowers to them, and I’ve linked their limbic systems and consciousnesses to mine. I can feel what they feel. Lastly, I have taught them to use The Frequency. That is the tone that had jangled your nervous system and left you powerless.”

The skeleton goon’s hands squeezed and clamped down. He crushed the muscles of my legs in his palms as his whole body tensed. Now, his groans joined my screams as the old man talked.

“I also wanted a good and proper beating of you. In addition to sampling all you have to offer, a proper punishment is always in order.”

I slapped the floor as he drew himself out of me. The heat and slickness of the fluid was overflowing my asshole, and running in a torrent down my thigh.

“Beat her some more.”

For a moment, it was just me, doubled over that platform, my thighs spread and running with spunk. My hair, long enough to touch the curve of my ass, was draped up over my head, covering my face. I heard his stand.

“Beat her.”

The leader took the split second, then snapped out a front snap kick. The top of his sneaker connected with my mound. This was a new scream that burst out of me. It was deep and throaty, shaking my whole being as my sex shuddered. Hands grabbed my hair and my limbs, lifting me, pulling the platform out from under me. They let me drop, but the one with my hair decided to be creative.

As others spread my legs, he bound and wound, and twisted it in one, long braid. As fingers dug roughly between my thighs, he lifted my head. There was a blur and the sound of movement off to my left. When the kick drove home, I felt the shock wave run from one side my body to the other.

Soon, the one that had my hair wrapped tightly around my throat started to struggle a bit. He was choking me, yes, but the tool was a bit unwieldy. My hair was long and thick, hard to get a hold of in one grab. The pressure released, and I found myself gulping air for a few desperate seconds. There were meticulous moments of gathering and twisting, until he felt satisfied that the garrote was perfect. Now, he could throw himself into the art of truly strangling Gold.

The rope my hair came hard across my windpipe now, completely sealing it off. I was strangling.

Another skeleton, on the other side of me, answered his buddy, laying a kick into my other side. My body rocked and lifted with his force, but I couldn’t scream. My wind was cut off again.

There was another kick from my left that arched me like a long, golden comma. Another came from the other side, driving me back, again. One of them knelt over me now, settling between my spread thighs, and landed a massive fist in the center of my torso. A shock wave dug into my midsection, my legs responding with a sudden lurching spasm. He landed another and another and another, each time my making my abs spasm and my legs jerk. I watched his painted face change and shift, becoming twisted and impassioned. His fists came down on my breasts, one then the other, harder and harder. The exertion came in each blow, each grunt.

As the strangler twisted and pulled my hair deeper and harder against my throat, as my eyes watered and my lungs burned, my long body could only shudder and jerk as each fist fell. He moved up higher, arching his back and rearing himself up so that his fist could drive straight down on to my face, my thighs, my tight midsection.

The whole time, the others -a blur of men in skeleton costumes – were taking turns kicking me. One would get in some good blows, driving the toe of a hard boot into my ribs, then he would trade off. Each seemed to want to outdo the other, driving hard than his bro. One raise his foot up to stomp me, but realized the punching guy was in the way.

The furious one who had been using his fist interlaced his fingers now, arched his body back, and drove a double-fist blow down on my midsection.

“There you go! Good show! Jolly good show!” the old man laughed.

My head was pounding, my lung burning, but all I could do was wait until blackness overcame my brain again. I was still in the golden sheath that covers my body as a second-skin costume, but my powers had been neutralized. Now, I was merely a six-foot-tall, muscular blonde woman being choked and beaten by criminals.

“Stand her up.”

Suddenly, I was being hanged. They worked like a machine, stopping their blows and grabbing me in handfuls. They used my breasts, my arms, my legs and pulled me upright. The one with my hair had more leverage now. The was a whoop of joy as he gave me a proper hanging now, pulling straight up, making a noose of my hair. Tremors shook my body. The one who had pounded my body, he looked into my eyes and he smiled.

The curtains closed around my brain.

“There we go, Gold,” he said finally. It was a whisper husky with lust.

“Not so tough now.”

He knew that his voice would be the last thing that I heard as I passed out.

“Not so tough.”

I could see the glee in his eyes as darkness enfolded me.

My head was pounding as I awoke. I was groggy and dizzy, but I was immediately aware of my situation. I could feel the thick mushroom-shaped tip thrusting against the back of my throat. It would pull itself back, slick with my drool, and drive itself forward again. It would stab the back of my throat. Veins and ridges moved across my tongue, cleared the scraping edges of my teeth and worked like a piston in my mouth.

I could taste salt and musk.

I was on my back, my head tilted to one side.

The one that choked me was still on top of me. I knew it was he because I could feel the same strength of his hands and the weight of his body. There was a musk that rose from him different from the one that was I my mouth. Distinct. More acrid. This one, he was kneading my breasts now – twisting and crushing them in those massive palms of his. My breasts are very large, but he mastered them with hands so strong that they made me wince. Not even fully conscious, I was mewling and moaning around the cock.

Two of the other skeleton men had my arms pinned down, stretched out and flung wide. Two held my legs apart. They were spread and pressed down at the ankles, again, by two of the men. They held me open for him.

“Ah! There!” I heard the old man laugh. “Now, she is awake. Introduce yourself, dear boy!”

The thick lips of my labia gave way. They tremble and the parted, muscles convulsing as the girth and the width filled me. I could imagine the pink, slick interior of my sex retreating, reeling, and finally surrendering to the new invader. My eyes squeezed shut and I screamed.

The one in my mouth pay me the courtesy of pulling back so that I throaty howl could echo though the house. The powerful one who had strangled me was now fucking me and there was nothing that I could do about it.  The same strength and power that he had used to choke me into unconsciousness with my own hair was now driving from his hips. He had some sort of technique that mastered my whole nervous system - each thrust brought a moan or a gasp from me.

Each thrust shot through me. He made it point to haul his hips back and thrust even harder when he saw the impact it was having on me.

“Like that?” he laughed

His cock was so thick around that it stretched me wide enough make me wince. It was long, and he pounded so deep into me, hitting my G spot over and over again. He paused for a moment. I gasped, and when he thrust again, I screamed louder than before. 

“Hey, sleeping beauty, I asked you a question.”

The cock pulled fully away now so that I could speak. They had control of me, and there was a time and place for resistance. This was not it.

 “Yessir.” I said it as I gasped for air.

“Yessir, what?”

“Yessir, I like you … fucking me.”

“Good. Someone, get another cock in her mouth.”

And someone did. As the one fucking me rotated his hips, making me cry out louder than before, the one that had claimed my mouth moved aside. He laughed and looked over his shoulder.

“Bro! Bro! Bring that porn star cock over here, man!”

Another skeleton, a bigger, broader man moved into his place. At first, I could only see his midsection. His abs were a male version of mine – cut and defined. They had the thickness and density of power. My eyes traveled down, coming to rest on the massive veins that ran from the base to the massive mushroom head. It was engorged, and it pointed at my face with a rigidity that seemed superhuman.

“There you go!” one of them yelled. Soon, all of them were chanting and cheering.

His fist took hold of the base, raised the tool up above my face, and brought it down across my cheek. The wet smacking sound resonated though the room. He raised it again, and slapped it down across my eyes. I must have moaned for him, because they all exulted. The last blow landed the head hard across my lips. I lingered there. It forced itself in.

My jaw was instantly sore, my mouth stretching as wide as it could.

“Take it all, Gold.”

I felt my eyes roll up in my head as I was suddenly gagging. A monster forced itself into my windpipe and it was rewarded with guttural sound of a gagging woman. Just like the last one, he pulled back, then drove forward. His cock punched the back of my throat.

Again, I gagged and gave a GGGGAAAKKKK.

“Hang on,” he laughed, filling my windpipe. He looked over at the man who was fucking me, nodded, and soon they were working in tandem. A powerful thrust in my pussy was answered by a powerful thrust in my throat. As the cock in my mouth drew back, so did the one that was plunging my cunt.  I gushed and I drooled.

“They are having … No. We are having a splendid time with you,” said the old man from the shadows. “Can you feel them about to give forth?”

I could. Soon, I could. Soon, I could feel their bodies tensing and their rhythm growing furiously. The one in my mouth groaned as the one in my sex pulled out. I couldn’t the see the one who had been fucking me, but I heard his loud exalt.

Once, when I was a prisoner of Piston, he and his men made sure to give a bukkakae treatment, eight of them gushing his cum over my eyes and into my mouth. They coated my cheeks forehead and neck, letting torrents of manspunk run in ripples down over my big breasts.

When Night Star and I were captives of Vixen, she had me watch, bound and gagged, as her minions laid Night Star out on one of her tables and coated her with the cum of her latest experiment. Now, I was the one being coated.

When I felt something wet and dense jet itself on to my belly, I knew that this was something more that cum used to decorate a captive. It was as though someone had thrown hot yogurt on to me. Not a glob, but a stream that hit my body and spread itself. With my skin sheath degraded, the heat poured itself into me.

And it didn’t stop. He was hosing my body down as his buddy lurched in my mouth. I tasted salt and sugar, but there was no way for my mouth to accept the amount that poured out of him. There w no way for me to swallow it all as it came.

The back of my throat shuddered, and my tongue pushed and fought. What I could swallow

He was rewarded with my gagging and my retching as my mouth overflowed. My body lurched and convulsed, every muscle pushing and contracting, but the cock stayed lodged in my throat. I was drowning in his cum.

There were ten skeleton men that had lingered back. They had enjoyed beating me when the time was right, but they had yet to fuck me. Through the whole ordeal, they had lingered back. Now, each with his massive erect cock in his hand.

“Time, bros! It’s time.”

The one that had filled my mouth pulled back now, a thick streamer of cum and saliva clinging between us like a streamer. Even with my mouth coated and overflowing, I parted my lips and gasped desperately for air.

“Listen to her gasping! I love it!” the old man cheered. My mind went on its search again as the next stream of semen splashed on to my neck. Again, it was almost scalding. I let out a groan and grunt as it sprayed its way up across my ear and into my hair.

A buddy of his was dousing my left thigh, and two more were moving into place over my breasts. They clutched them, squeezing them with their free hands and unleashed torrents on to the outlines of my nipples. One made it a point to pry my eyes open so that his bro could aim his cock directly at my right eyeball.

I screamed for them. With The Frequency shutting down my powers, all I could do was accept the same pain any woman would when a stream of cum lands in her eye. I tried to thrash my head, but a hand held it in place. He empty more cum into my other eye.

The last time I was coated like this – covered and doused in a thick fluid – it was by the Black Smith. I had been rendered stock-still and rigid by one of Succubus’s spells. I could only stand there like a pillar as he poured a stream of hissing molten lead over me. It was enchanted, and I my powers protected me; instead of burning me, it made me into a statue. I could only stand there as it matted my hair, covered my face, and ran between my breasts.

“Big tits. Hmmmm. Nice, wide hips and curvy … Look at these thighs. Preserved forever. Put her with the others,” I heard him say before the fluid filled my ears.

Now, with these skeleton men, I wasn’t a statue. I was a powerless blond covered in cum. The men continued to take turns.  Blind from the cum shots to my eye, I could only feel as they unloaded the unnaturally hot and thick spume all over me. Some shot strong and steady streams. Some released bursts and some dropped gobs, but their cum was always scalding and thick.

After an eternity, they backed away, panting, high-fiving. I could hear their palms colliding. They were watching me. On my side, one hand down as if to push myself up, I stayed there and dripped of their victory. Cum clung to my hair and dripped from my lips and chin in salty icicles. I could feel it utterly covering me.

“Look at you, slut,” said the old man from his hidden place. He might as well have come out and hobbled around; my eyes were sealed with semen. “I feel amazing and you are … Well, just look at you.”

My hair was waist -long and thick. They left it as soaked as though I’d been swimming. As I tuned and pushed to try to right myself, I could feel the weight and the drag of it. My aching and pounded muscles reminded me of the beating I’d taken. The rawness in the back of my throat, and the throbbing in my pussy reminded me of the fucking they had enjoyed.

Pain shot through me as I tried to curl my legs under myself.

“Is she trying to get up?” I heard one of them laugh. I was. I was blind, beaten, raped, and I was trying to get myself upright. It was just like when Berzerkergang had clearly beaten Night Star and I. We lay in the wreckage of a destroyed department store. Every inch of both of our bodies had been beaten, bitten, and fucked. She was unconscious, not to awaken for hours, but I still tried to gather myself together. Just like now, with the skeletons, every inch of me told me to just stay down. Just like then, I was met with a kick to the face.

I heard myself grunt as my head snapped back.  I could hear a moist splash that intertwined with the dull thud of my body hitting the ground.  There was a new vigor in them now. Again, they cheered and whooped as they joined in the kicking party. Some did the best they could to drive their kicks into my crotch. Often, they ended up pummeling my buttocks and thighs. My back and head were better targets, and they plowed home kicks that resonated in me with deep, loud thuds. 

The old man was saying something about getting me “ready for presentation” when the last kick knocked me into blackness.

2.

I woke up once when they were bathing me, and once when they were opening my thick lips to insert something rounded and smooth. Both times, as my eyes flickered open, one or more of them would strangle me back into unconsciousness. The first time that I awoke, I was in a bathtub. It was empty, except for my body, and they had clearly been washing and scrubbing me clean of cum. I could smell harsh soap and the metallic tinge of hard water.

“She’s waking up!” one said. My eyes were not fully clear, and my vision was blurry. The cum had been cleared from my eyelids, but my sight was still cloudy. As once swept a stiff brush down my left leg, another moved to knock me out again. Instead of beating me again, he did it by stuffing a thick towel into my mouth. It was dense and damp, but thin enough to be forced past my lips and into my mouth. Two of them held my long legs and two of them held my arms as one of them stuffed the cloth deeper and deeper. My eyes were wide and my body convulsed as I gagged and struggled to breathe.

When his fingers weren’t enough, he used a long dildo to push it and push it and push it until it blocked my windpipe. The burning in my lungs, the weakness that flooded my muscles, it was the same as when Vixen smothered me. With her vulva mashed over my nose and mouth, with her labia spread block my air, she smiled down at me until my eyes faded, fluttered, and closed. It was the same feeling I experienced as he jammed that cloth down my throat. Suffocation.

The second time I awoke, they were pressing an object past my vulva. I didn’t know how much time had passed, but I was in a different room, laid out on a carpet. As my eyes flickered open, one of them immediately grabbed the length and mass of my hair. It had all been gathered to one side and he was able to quickly take it in his hands and press it across my windpipe. My hips bucked in the air as my body tried to free me from the garrote and force away whatever was being inserted into my sex.

Still, they held my legs and arms. I felt my muscles fight for a moment, then give way as my own hair shut my own windpipe.

I was being lifted on to a chair when they finally allowed me to stay in the world of the conscious. Again, they used my hair, my arms, my breasts, and throat to lift me. The bright hot lights that surrounded us, let me know instantly what was happening.

“You’re … filming?” I asked. My throat was enflamed and my voice came like a meager croak.

“Making a good old porno to shop around, my dear.”

I sat upright on a stool now, with the first group of skeleton men surrounding me.

“You’re going to enjoy this,” said the unseen man. “You are going to, at least, show the world that you are. Or …”

There was suddenly a blinding pain that rocketed up from my sex. For a moment, it was my whole reality. It felt as though fire traced the path of every nerve in my body. When it was done, I still screamed.

“Now, you understand what will happen if you do not show your compliant joy at all of this. We will simply torture you to death. Now, if you would please get down to business.”

My magic was captive and my body was weaker than ever before. Part of me wanted to fight, resist, and allow the pain machine that was wedged into my sex to do its worse. That part of me subsided as the weakness in my pain racked body overtook it. The men that I had beaten and sent to jail before had broken me.

“Gold, are you ready to submit and cooperate?”

I was broken.

“Yessir,” I heard myself say.

All of them already had their cocks out. They gloated and grinned. I reached out and took hold of the one closest to me. It was thick and felt heavy in my hand.

“Very good. We are filming.”

I opened my mouth.