Piggie Plumpkins and the Femcan Coeds
By morselman
Episode 3…
At last an exhausted Plumpkins could muster only weary whimpers, miserable moans and somber sobs--no matter how fiendishly the cruel coeds inflicted their torture implements upon him. Clearly, the floor show was over. The music muted and dancing declined.
But the merry Maenads were far from finished with Plumpkins. Many exchanged their musical instruments for ivy wreathed wooden clubs and pine cone topped thyrsus staffs. The bull head was yanked off him and his bonds were untied. Plumpkins slumped out of the chair into a pathetic heap.
The House Mother rolled him face up with a sandal clad foot and peered down into his tear reddened eyes. “Its time for the second act, piggie…” she said with a smirk. Turning to the gathered revelers she declared “Nothing tenderizes a longpig better than ‘The Death of Orpheus!’ eh ladies?”
One of the musicians tossed her lyre atop Plumpkins’ cowering form. The femcans then set upon Plumpkins with a raucous cheer, wielding their weapons with gusto! Hard wooden clubs struck shin, foot and forearm with loud cracks to leave aching black bruises. Thyrsus staffs whistled through the air like enormous riding crops to smite soft tissue, leaving stinging bright red welts.
The brutal onslaught roused Plumpkins from his stupor--but his frantic writhing and squirming were to no avail. These heartless harpies possessed highly superior athletic skills one and all--their aim was unerring, strength untiring and cruelty unrelenting!
Softball strengthened arms were swinging clubs and staffs to deliver precisely targeted blows. Soccer strengthened legs delivered crippling kicks and savage stomps at every opportunity. And all of it well choreographed so that no one’s malicious movements interfered with those of anyone else--a terrible
torrent of tormenting teamwork.
The pummeling didn’t pause until Plumpkins was positively purple from nose to toes. Only then did the Sorority House Mother proclaim him properly prepared. “Now then, all that’s left is to allow his contusions to thoroughly swell up to their maximum throbbing tender tastiness!” She turned to the gathered crowd “And in the mean time…”
“The Festival of Lesbos!” the women all gleefully declared. Kline lounges, fluffy pillows, cushions and thick comforters were brought into the chamber and arranged around the barely conscious Plumpkins while the House Mother strummed a lyre and recited the poetry of Sappho.
All the coeds and Alumnae eagerly paired off and proceeded with a torrid lesbian orgy. They engaged in all manner of scissoring, tribading, cunnilingus, dildolatry and strap-onary. Their moans of orgasmic pleasure soon filled the air, ironically blending with Plumpkins’ agonized groaning and mewling misery.
Plumpkins took notice of the surrounding debauch, and despite his damaged condition, he became aroused. This caught the eye of the statuesque coed and she gave a wild howl of glee, pulling herself from the sorority sister she was scissoring to climb on top the startled Plumpkins. “Our piggie is feeling perky!”
But Plumpkins was in no shape to oblige--his genitals were a scorched and battered wreck! Far from deterring the coed, the mangled member made her evermore adamant that he participate. She grabbed and forced it inside, clamping down with all her strength--causing him to give an anguished yelp.
The pleading protestations from Plumpkins only encouraged the coed into vigorous gyrations, pulling and twisting evermore wildly as she crushed tighter and tighter with her powerful pussy. Her strong fingers dug into bruised shoulder flesh and her nails clawed at raw skin. She braced her robust thighs forcefully down onto his battered legs to gain leverage--tugging full strength on Plumpkins’ captive penis, harder and harder as if to tear it off!
Plumpkins’ frantic bawling was matched by her maniacal laughter and taunts. All the commotion attracted the other sorority sisters, who left each others embrace to take up positions atop his limbs--their knees pressed deep into bruised hands, arms, calves and feet to pin him down. A debate then broke out about dibs on the next turn at rutting the helpless Plumpkins.
The Alumnae were all greatly amused and gathered round to watch, nodding to each other indulgently. The House Mother said with a wry smile “Ah yes…few things are as much fun for young Maenads as having a final fling with their food--just before the feeding frenzy starts…”
