Disclaimer: this is a work of fantasy and should be treated as such. Real rape is a heinous crime that deserves to be punished to the full extend of the law. If you do not recognize the difference between reality and fantasy, you also lack the maturity to read this story.

The Bush Hunters

Clara's head broke through the surface of the clear water. With the evening sun still shining brightly she enjoyed that feeling of the first day of her vacation. She had a whole week in what she always had considered her private paradise. Her yes wandered over the trees of the nearby bush, that reached right to the little beach in her bay. Cliffs to the sides shielded the bay almost entirely from the outside world. At the horizon she could make out the vague out line of South West Vernon Island. She loved this place, and had ever done so since she had found it 4 years ago, and in all the time she had spent here she had never meet anybody else. This perfect little bay was her secret, only she knew about it, she had never even been able to find out if it had a name. So when she had left for her vacation she hadn't told anybody where she was going. Only vaguely hinted about going for another bush trip. Then she had packed her jerrycans with water and petrol, as well as her camping gear into her old Subaru 4x4 and drove the 90 minutes from Darwin.

Clara had always loved the bush, the feeling of serenity and peaceful isolation. She enjoyed being by herself, doing whatever pleased her, without having to worry about others. On occasions she had wondered if some of her little adventures hadn't been a bit much, like walking around for hours in the evening just in her boots. After all who was going to see her, and the boots were just a necessity, walking around barefoot seemed to be an invitation to make a closer acquaintance with some of Australia's more intimidating critters. Something she felt she could do without. Most of the time she preferred walking around clad in her military style cargo pants and a denim shirt. Those cargo pants, were just marvelous in their capability of easily providing enough storage for a whole days worth of provision, so that she only needed the addition of her canteen, but no bulky backpack. She would do more of that kind of exploration tomorrow. Now it was time to slowly get back to the beach and enjoy the last minutes of sun available.
Clara swam back to the shore with deliberate and forceful strokes. Technique ingrained into her in countless hours in the pool, and competing in the swim team. She hadn't swum competitively for years, but had kept up the habit of swimming as often as possible, as it provided an excellent way of staying in shape. As she reached the shore she slowly stepped out of the water, and tried to shake some of the water of her body, the long wet tresses of coppery red hair moving like tendrils. She lay down on the big beach towel she had brought. Her favorite bathing suit was a skimpy red bikini, currently lying in her cabinet at home. She had stopped bringing any kind of bathing suits after her first visit to this place. If she went out on her surfboard she wore a wet suit, black with neon green high lights, but swimming in this bay, she preferred without any confinement, after all nobody would ever see her.

Reclining comfortably with on leg bent she studied her own appearance. It looked like she had her personal hygiene lapse a bit, what used to be a dark red well maintained landing strip had developed to a veritable landing zone. Well there hadn't been any guys to attempt a landing, since she broke up with Jack. She might have been putting up with him, staring after other women, but apparently that hadn't been good enough for Jack. And when she found a pair of panties in his pocket, a pair not belonging to her, and evidently not fresh from the store. She had kicked his sorry ass out, and while she didn't regretting the loss of that rather nice ass, he also had a nice and fat cock, and knew how to use it. That part of his anatomy she missed quite a bit more. Clara suddenly became aware that she had begun to touch herself, while thinking of Jack or more precisely Jack's equipment. Should she stop? She decided that there was no reason, to not finish the job properly. After all who would see her, absolutely nobody.

Alan's and Charly's week in the bush had been exhausting but promised to be a very lucrative one as well. In the back of their truck they had the haul of this little hunting expedition. 4 parrots and a good dozen lizards including frilled lizards and a painted dragon. Overall this lot would sell for a substantial sum on the black market and each of their shares of the profit would border five digits. In Charly's mind that was worth trotting through the god forsaken bush in the company of the ever surly Alan Quarters. The older man always felt he needed to emphasize, that he was the boss of the operation, while in truth they were equal partners. For this trip they had only one stop left, they called it turtle cove for the loggerhead turtles they occasionally could find there, they always made a nice addition to their loot, but even if they couldn't find any, the cove made a nice place to camp before their long way back.

They stopped the truck a few hundred meters away from the cove, so not to frighten and drive away some possible prey.
"Go ahead Charly" the older man in the driver seat said "perhaps you can spot us some nice turtles"
"What's wrong with your legs Alan? It's always me who has to do the running around." Charly complained
"Do you think it is easy to drive this old piece of crap on barely existing paths. I need a moment."
With that he lit a little black cheroot he was fond of smoking, and Charly decided it was time to leave the truck. As he did not share his partners fondness for that particular weed.

It took him almost ten minutes to reach the cove with his mind wandering, when he suddenly heard a strange moaning sound. Charly immediately jumped behind some bushes, to avoid being seen. He now carefully peaked out above them and saw what he had missed in his preoccupation. A battered Subaro stood about hundred meters away from him, and a hammock with a mosquito net was strung between two trees. He heard the moaning again, and carefully followed it towards the beach, Mind no longer absent, he took very great care were to place his foot. Not to break any branches or rustle any leaves. A big game hunter approaching a sleeping tiger, wouldn't have been more careful than Charly May. Still keeping the the sparse vegetation as cover he reached the beach. lowering himself onto his belly into the red dust and creeping closer.

The sight took his breath away. Right in front lay a young woman, naked as on the day of her birth. There was no doubt about the source of the moaning sounds he had heard. Her right hand was very busy between her splayed legs. He could see the hand moving frantically. The woman had a set of spectacular tits, nipples standing upright like pencil erasers, all hard and pink. But her nipples weren't the only hard thing, and he severely regretted lying on his stomach. He hadn't had a woman for over a while, and one of the things he had looked forward to when returning with his share, was going on a bender and take care of his needs.
With every movement of her hand, the moans became louder, and Charlie imagined he could here the wet sounds coming from between her legs. He needed a plan, as in all likelihood Alan would drive down the track in a couple of minutes. Relying on his partner to have found all available turtles and throw them on their back. Once spotted turtles made wonderfully easy prey.
But now the whole situation had changed. Here was a prey, that was more rewarding to hunt, and just throwing her on her back, wouldn't stop her from escaping. And of one thing Charly was certain, she would not escape him. But what to do, he could quickly return to Alan, and they could cobble together a plan. The camp site he had found indicated this one was planning on staying a bit longer. But leaving now would mean he lost the knowledge about her precise whereabouts, and he wasn't convinced they would be able to sneak up to her camp again. There was also the possibility of her having some kind of weapon, right now all he could see were two bombs, raising and lowering with each moan. And the frequency of those increased drastically, so Charly threw caution away and crept rapidly closer.

The throws of orgasm released themselves in an animalistic cry, and Clara's whole body collapsed with the waves of warm and comfortable feelings. She was entirely happy with the world. At this point a shadow fell over her body, and she felt the very cold and very sharp edge of a knife against her throat.
"Don't move!" the voice was deep and masculine. Her eyes went wide and she stared in the face of a man in his middle thirties, reddish blond hair and full beard. The grey blue eyes, were filled with lust but also menace. Her first instinct was to try covering herself up, so her left hand flew to her breasts, as the right was already strategically well placed.
The next thing she knew, was that her face hurt, from a full handed slap he had given her. "If I say, no moving, then you don't move."
Stranger climbed over her belly and set down on it, trapping her right hand between their bodies.
"Now put that other hand under your head, I want another look at those tits!" the voice left very little doubt that the man expected his command to be followed. As she didn't just to prove herself that she wasn't entirely in his mercy he simply pressed the knife harder against her throat. All her bravado crumpled rather quickly. She slowly moved the hand under her head, a position that caused her breasts to be pressed further forward.
His other hand found itself grabbing for the presented flesh. And Clara gasped as his fingers closed around one of her breasts.
"Nice and firm, just the way I like tits." he judged aloud.
"Let go of me!" she tried to stop him, but he felt her being very careful of keeping her throat away from the blade.
"Hush, tits like those, are made to be touched, groped and mauled." he proceeded to demonstrate each of those things.
He could see it in her eyes how she despised to be treated like this, but he also saw the fear of the cold steel. And she had good cause for this caution, Charly kept the knife honed to razor sharpness, he loved the blade every single one of the fifteen centimeters of shining steel. And while he had used it frequently to skin game, it had never been close to such a pretty skin as right now.
While he had observed her before he had been to preoccupied, to really take all of her appearance in. Her dark auburn hair hung disheveled to her shoulders, framing a slim pointed face. The blue grey eyes shone with fear and disgust, the full lips shivered with fear. Her sun bronzed skin showed a fair amount of freckles.
The tits he had observed from afar, and now his left held firmly enclosed, where everything he loved in female flesh. Firm and big, but not so large, that his hand couldn't keep hold of it comfortably. The brown nipples that had been hard a few moments ago, had shrunk as her excitement had made room for her current panic.
"No tan lines" he commented "I can see you don't have much use for excessive clothing."
"I can't see how that would be any of your business." she shot back.
"Well one could say, because I take an interest in my catch. I will now look at the rest of you, and I advise you not to move a muscle, understood." He received a tiny nod and he got of her belly, while keeping the knife in place. he took in the remainder of her body. The toned midriff and muscular legs, the fact that also her lower body didn't show any tan lines. His eyes targeted her crotch, half covered by the hand still resting in it, but not capable, to hide the copious amounts of dark curls covering her mound.
"Looks like I caught myself here a real beaver pelt. And you must be showing it off quite a bit, as the sun has amply kissed those parts."
"Please, can't you just let me go?" she pleaded
"I think we will get to know each other better first. What is your name?"
Charly saw a spark of defiance in her eyes, before she spat out "Oh go fuck off, you cunt."
"Well you got that almost right, as I'm sure the cunt will get fucked. Now what is your name or do you prefer to be called cunt?" The knife edged closer to her throat.
"Carla, My name is Carla Wilkinson. Please don't cut me." After her previous defiance the words now came out of her mouth in rapid succession. Charly again marveled at the convincing power of a sharp blade.
"Was that so hard? Now tell me are you alone here?"
He observed her eyes moving rapidly around, looking for somebody to help her perhaps, before answering.
"Are you crazy, my friends should be here any moment."

The lie sounded weak even to Clara, but she decided to follow it up.
"It's going to be 14 of us, ..." she stumbled "... all of us police officers."
"So you are a copper? Are the other 13 going to have snatches as well?" her captor asked with a lascivious grin.
"No all men, strong men." Clara asserted
He rammed the knife into the ground next to her head and with a stinging blow backhanded her left and right.
"Stupid lying cunt."
"No it's the truth." she stammered
"The hell it is. A chick like you doesn't have it in her to keep 13 dicks entertained. And fucking you would be the only thing a group with only guys would have in mind. No you are bluffing."
Clara felt her cheeks coloring, angry with herself of overplaying her hand.
"Now my lovely we will return to your campsite, and wait for my partner. Get up!"
Hearing of a potential second man arriving, Clara got really frightened, and was thinking if she could outrun her captor. She was bare foot and he wore boots, but he also looked like he liked his beer and she could smell some cigarette smoke on him. Perhaps she had a chance. After all she wasn't in any form restrained yet. She slowly got up, as that was her first step in escape anyhow, no reason to defy him. It still was a slow process as still tried to cover herself as much as possible.
Apparently it was to slow for the man, as he grabbed her by the hair and painfully pulled her to her feet. Clara cried out in pain, and felt immediately cold chills running down her spine, as the knife blade found her throat again. He stood close behind her, and she could feel his body pressing into hers.
"Missy you better not thinking of running away."
"I don't" she answered with a trembling voice.
"As we have already established that you are a liar, I don't really believe you. Let's see if we can hamper you a bit."
After a few moments she heard him again. "Shove those fingers back up your snatch!"
Clara felt confused and believed she had heard wrong.
"NOW!" the man bellowed.
She started to shrink but felt her index and middle finger to curl inwards, slowly entering the space they had occupied only a few minutes ago to her entire satisfaction. To her surprise she found that all her former arousal had vanished in the face of her traumatic meeting. So only the tips of the two fingers actually entered her vagina.
"Are you suddenly shy cunt? All the way up!"
With the knife still pressed to her throat, Carla saw no alternative to complying, and applied more pressure, sliding the two fingers further in, feeling utterly humiliated. Unassisted by any natural lubrication, she continued to push the 2 fingers inside her, with her labia grasping tightly around them. Afraid for her life she only stopped when the digits were fully inside her. Forcing her posture to be slightly bent forward.
"Was that so hard?" the man inquired "How many fingers do you have inside?"
Her refusal to answer was cut short by the cold pressure of the knife to her throat.
"Two" she said meekly, her face beet red.
"It's a start. Now add two more fingers of your other hand!" the tone of his voice left no doubt about it.
"Please no, they won't fit without hurting."
"I don't give a rats ass if they hurt, a cunt prepared for 13 dicks, should be able to deal with it. But for your reticence it's 3 fingers now. Or should I slice your throat right now?"
Clara lowered the arm she had tried to cover her breasts with, and moved the had between her legs. Very carefully she inserted the tip of her index finger past the elastic opening, followed by the middle finger, feeling already overstuffed.
"Go on, I don't have all day" the man prompted
Reluctantly she inserted the tip of the last finger, the entrance of her pussy now being stretched painfully.
"I said in, so all the way up again."
"Please no it hurts." she pleaded.
"I don't care, I count till five if they are not fully inside by then, I will shove them in at my tempo,"
"One."
Clara started to push and wriggle frantically, but as dry as she was, it was pure torture, but she slid in a knuckle deeper.
"Two"
As much as she tried the fingers didn't want to go any deeper.
"Three"
Fear spurred her on, and she felt one finger sliding in place. She felt like bursting.
"Four"
Tears of pain now started to flow freely from her face, as she kept pushing with all her might.
"Five"
One final panicked attempt and push, and the last fingers were in place. She would have breathed in relief if the pain wouldn't have been so big. Her sex was stuffed to capacity and her lips stretched as far as they would go. She doubted that she would even be able to pull those fingers out again without great difficulty. Something she realized he had fully counted on.
"Now we walk to your camp."
"How do you expect me to walk like this?"
"Rather funnily I assume, let's see." With that he slapped her on the ass.
And she walked or more likely waddling would be the word. Always careful to not fall forward on her face, she made the 100 meters to her camp in only five minutes. Every step reminding her agonizingly of her fingers inside her, adopting a wide spread leg posture for her walking.
The man directed her to her hammock on which he pushed her sideways, the fabric under her belly and her breasts and butt hanging each side.
At this moment she heard the approach of a heavy truck engine, and hope blossomed.

Charly admired his prize when he heard the truck approaching. Looking up for a second to make sure, but it was Alan alright.
His gaze returned to the woman in front of him, she looked hot in her misery. Tits dangling nicely below the hammock. The hands between her legs, kept her thighs spread and her current position allowed for a look at her very nicely shaped ass. It had been fun making her stuff herself, and it had certainly slowed down the speed she could move with. But right now it also acted as a rather nice chastity device for her. He would need to get her unstuffed again before, making good use of all of her charms. But no reason to rush things. Fucking her ass in this state, might be a particularly satisfying option.

"What have you here" a voice asked from behind.
"I caught myself a beaver, but I don't think it fits with the rest of the collection. But the pelt is stunning"
"Do you mind if I check for myself?" The older man asked
"No go ahead."
Alan moved towards the woman. Who began to scream.
"Please Sir, Please help me this man had assaulted me."
She didn't get a response other than, him grabbing between her legs and pulling on the full fleece of pubic hair.
"You are right, this is a marvelous pelt. We might want to skin it later. Who is she?"
"She says her name is Clara, but she is a notorious liar, so i have started calling her cunt."
"I wonder what had inspired you to that." Alan replied with a glance to her stuffed sex.
"She also claims, to be a copper and 13 male friends would show up soon. I seriously doubt that."
Alan looked around "Yes this camp doesn't look like a lot of extra people coming, especially with her car blocking the access to the beach. I think this bird wasn't planning on any company."
"So it's good that we happened to come by. Imagine what all might have happened to her."
The leering grin on Alan's face showed that he was imagining that indeed.
"Then why don't you go ahead, while I get some rope from the truck, to secure your catch a bit better" Alan offered.

Clara's hope was crushed when she heard that the new arrival wasn't only not going to rescue her but in all likelihood would participate in her defiling. The only good news was that right now her overstuffed and aching vagina was safe from any further intrusion. So his prime target would be denied.

She could perhaps get away with sucking them off, Clara prided herself to be a mistress of the art. Big ones, fat ones, it didn't matter she enjoyed taking her lovers in her mouth, making hem squeal with delight, teasing them, make them plead for relief. Well it wouldn't be a lover per se this time, and she would prefer to bite off whatever they put in her mouth, but she could close her eyes and endure it for queen and country, if it got her out of this misery.

She was still busy thinking about this options when she heard the opening of a zipper and the rustle of cloth behind her. Something cold and wet hit her on the ass cheeks. Which were brutally pried apart, and he spit again, this time directly onto her anus. This bastard wasn't seriously considering taking her there?
"No, No not there." She cried.
Next she felt his warm hardness, exactly where she didn't want it. A scream of animalistic pain accompanied the ripping away of her anal virginity. Some of her former lovers had tried to convince her to try, they had been gentle and careful, but the thought had always disgusted her, and the one time she had allowed a finger to penetrate her there, it had hurt like hell. Well this guy was neither careful nor tender. She felt each thrust like a jack hammer was pounding her innards. The swine was also accompanying each thrust with a grunt. Among the worst things she felt his cock with her fingers, every time he moved inside her, the fingers in her pussy felt the movement.
He fucked her hurting asshole with vigor, and what felt like hours until he erupted in a blast inside her bowels. After he withdrew from her she felt something warm trickling out of her abused anus, and running down, some of it covered her hands, trapped between her legs. She had never felt so dirty with anything concerning sex.

The other man had returned with some rope and together they gripped her hands, and pulled them forcibly free. To Clara it felt as if she was turned inside out like a glove. And again her howls filled the air.
"Should we perhaps stuff her mouth?" one of her assailants asked.
"What for there is nobody around for kilometers that could hear her, if the wailing annoys you see if you can find a rag, but I find it stimulating, I'm almost hard enough to have another go."
"Let's tie her up first Romeo. Face up or down?"
"Let's keep her as she is, I don't need to see her face to enjoy her."
They bound each of her wrists to the rings of the hammock, stretching her arms to the fullest extend. Then the next man entered, her this time apparently not an ass man, as he went for the freshly vacated pussy.

The next few hours were the most painful and humiliating in Clara's life. The men took turns on her body, to Clara's dismay the older man was not shunning her ass, but had decided to go for her pussy first to avoid sloppy seconds. Something the men then agreed on to avoid by cumming on her back. No matter which hole they enjoyed, they found themselves shortly afterwards in front of her and used the hated knife, to ensure she did a diligent and for them safe cleaning of their dicks. Cumming in her mouth apparently was not frowned upon, and considered sloppy seconds.
Whenever their vigor left them, they amused themselves with her helpless body. Like using the hunting knife to give her a dry shave of her privates. Leaving the whole area red and inflamed, as well as hairless. They ransacked her camp for anything they cared for, Enjoying the supply of fruit she had brought. The men seemed to take joy in destroying what they had no need for. Her clothes, were thrown unceremoniously into their camp fire. Clara watched them burn to ash, the same with her camping gear and boots. They disabled her car, by cutting all tires open and smashed the radio and the worked under the hood.
When they found her jumper cables they asked her if she would like to try them on her nipples. She said no, emphatically so. It hurt almost as much when they removed them an hour later, as when they had applied them.
Ultimately they went to sleep, and Clara hung tied in her hammock, feeling utterly abused. They had given her two bananas for safe keeping, telling her she would eat them for breakfast. The thought of that made her throw up, as she was intimately aware on where those bananas were ripening.

The next morning she watched her attackers getting ready, with one of them lathering up his face with foam before shaving with a regular razor. They cooked breakfast and coffee and the smell drove her almost crazy, of course they didn't offer any to her. Her breakfast were going to be the two bananas lodged inside her body for the whole night.
At first she refused to eat them, but the older man was putting it down simply.
"Missy, we had our fun with you, there isn't much that you could still offer to us, except perhaps a good bye fuck. If you eat those bananas like a good girl we will cut you loose when we leave. If you continue to be difficult we will just leave and you can wait for those imaginary friends of yours to cut you lose."
That settled it, she agreed and as a sign of good faith they cut her left hand free, and told her to retrieve those bananas, as they didn't intend to filthy their hands with it. It took Clara several minutes to dislodge the fruit, with the one in her vagina being easier to get. It was slimy but after she peeled it she wolfed it down with hunger, still noting the musky taste. The other one was more difficult, all smashed up, so she had to eat it out of a rather filthy peel.
The men laughed and left her hanging by her right wrist, but taking the time to shred also the hammock with their knives, before driving off.

It took Clara the better part of an hour to untie her other hand. She dragged herself to the bay, trying to clean herself. But she could scrub as much as she wanted she still felt dirty. Back in camp she made a quick survey of her remaining assets. Something that went quickly, as the hunters had left her nothing. Form experience she knew that it was 12 km to the next road, which by itself was barely used, and about 18 km to the next house. She was naked, barefoot, had no water so they had correctly assumed that this was an impossible task for their victim. They had assumed nature would take care of getting rid of her.
Clara knew all of this as she stepped onto the track back to civilization, but she was to angry to care. Those fuckers had figured wrong, she was a survivor, she would survive this and see them rot in jail. So she continued her trip back to civilization, no matter how it turned out she would never return to her secret paradise. That was lost forever.

the End.