Tomb Raider Sexual Dream Story
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Tomb Raper free porn video
Tomb Raper
by Leo9
Angelina Jolie woke slowly and hazily, trying to understand where she was.Her head was thick as if with drugs, she hurt in many places, she tried tostir and felt terrifyingly weak...
"Take it easy," a man's voice above her said. "You've beenkept asleep for a long time so you could heal, you'll need to get your strengthback gradually."
Heal? Was she in hospital? She forced her mind back... could remember nothingbut going to bed one ordinary night, and now this. She opened her eyes withdifficulty.
The room and the bed looked as functional and blank as a hospital's, butthe people standing round the bed didn't look like doctors. Most of them wereyoung, and they had a wild-eyed, intense look that scared her. "Who..." shecroaked with a dry mouth. "Who are you?"
"We're fans," said a tough-looking girl. "Lara Croft fans." OhSHIT, thought Jolie. "We didn't like the way you played her. You weren'tLara. So we've put that right... and now you are."
Jolie began to get a grip on her hurts. There were sore places all over herface, and something in her back, and... "What?" She forced weak armsup under the covers to confirm what she felt. Her aching breasts were enormous,sitting on her chest as round and hard as two baseballs... Lara Croft tits. "Goddamn you, what have you done?" Fury gave her the strength to sit up andstart to throw her legs out of the bed, not caring that she was naked underthe sheet. "I'm going to..."
One of the men pointed what looked like a plastic toy space pistol at herand squeezed the trigger. It made a zapping noise, and suddenly she floppedback on the matress, limp as a rag doll. "You'll do as you're told," hesaid, "and nothing else. You have an implant at the top of your spinethat gives a taser jolt when it receives a radio signal: we can turn your musclesoff any time we have to." Carefully, but firmly, many hands laid her nakedbody out straight on the bed and rolled her onto her front. "And resistancewill be punished." He held the heavy wooden paddle before her horrifiedeyes, then went around the bed and started to use it. Jolie's angry proteststurned to howls as her ass caught fire.
The next day they set to work to get her back into shape. Some of them wereobviously professional trainers; they knew exactly how much someone recoveringfrom her treatment could do at every stage. Sometimes they worked her hard,but she had no choice. There was always at least one guard standing back withone of the radio tagging guns that could drop her where she stood, and anylack of co-operation meant another paddling. At first she thought the punishmentwas a joke, but after the third spanking of the day on her already tender bunsshe started to take notice: it HURT!
With strong motivation, and skillful feeding and tending, she mended fast.From tottering round the bed, to bends and stretches, to hours of vigorousaerobics, she built up her strength. She was very glad that her captors wererealistic enough to have provided her with a solidly engineered sports bra:it would have been impossible to do such workouts with her ridiculously enlargedboobs swinging free.
Once she was fit enough to run, they dressed her in a dreadfully familiargrey suit and harness, and opened the door to what they called "the Tomb".She reckoned it must have been built in something the size of a warehouse,but she never got a clear idea of its shape because the space was divided intohundreds of rooms, passages, tunnels, stairs and shafts on a dozen levels,a three-dimensional maze which she had to admit was a pretty good replica ofa game locus. She exercised around, up and down it from dawn till dusk, running,jumping, crawling, climbing, learning where the "secret" entrancesand tunnels were, which walls could be climbed, which gaps could be swung across.She had never been so fit in her life, and it galled her that she couldn'tuse her new strength to break free, but she never had a chance. She learntthat every space in the Tomb was wired for video, sound, and, crucially, forthe radio pulse that turned off her spine: they could see and stop anythingshe might try.
When she was good enough, they started racing her against the clock. Shehad a set time to get from one part of the Tomb to another, and every secondover that meant a stroke of the paddle. She learnt to bend over and hold stillfor her punishments, cursing and screaming but not resisting: it was betterthan being dropped helplessly to the floor.
Then they changed to "hunts". They would give her a chance to headout into the Tomb, then one or more of them would follow with tagging guns.She was armed with a laser-tag pistol: every time she tagged one of her pursuers,that was one swat deducted from the paddling she would get when they finallyran her down. She discovered that the tagging guns were made to give her asporting chance: they shot their signal in a narrow, tight beam, which meantthat the shooters had to get an acurate bead on her to drop her. Sometimesshe evaded them for hours, but when she fell exhausted into bed at the endof the day she still had a sore butt.
Then came the day when, coming out of her room after breakfast, she was greetedby the whole gang, smiling and excited. "This is it," one of themsaid, "the real thing. We've got paying customers, so give them a goodrun, Lara!"
"Customers?" she said blankly.
"You bet! People who've paid good money to hunt Lara Croft for real." Hisface hardened as he saw the thought in her eyes. "And yes, they know whoyou are, so don't try asking them for help. It'll upset them, and we don'twant the paying customers upset." Her buttocks clenched in reflex fear,and she cursed her helplessness. "Now, go, Lara, go!" And she ran.
She had grown skillful at hearing where people were in the Tomb, and shesoon found that the organisers were helping her: now and then a quiet voicein an empty room would prompt her to go up instead of down, along the passagerather than through the tunnel, and she would dodge the hunters who were closingin. She guessed that it was a way to manage the game, to make sure the clientsgot a good long hunt, but she didn't mind: she was getting plenty of tags onthem, and this was easy. She could stay out of their way all day. She dodgedsome wild shots from a high platform, dived through a door, ran along a leveland reached for a rope...
Which wasn't there. She teetered desperately on the edge, wondering if shecould jump, hearing the hunters yelling behind. Then her muscles turned towet string, and she buckled and lay limp as they ran up.
"Okay," she gasped, "You got Lara - NO!" One of the menwas tugging at the waisband of her grey slacks, and she focussed on their grinning,panting faces and realised that her penalty for getting caught was going tobe more than a spanking this time. "Nooo!" They dragged her pantsdown to her ankles and rolled her onto her back. "NOOOO!"
She'd always felt, when she bothered to think about it, that rape couldn'tbe all that bad: it was only sex, and OK, it would be bad to have to do itwhen you didn't want to, but how bad? She discovered that having a hard cockdriven into her dry, desperately clenched cunt was nothing like sex. It wasshocking, intimate agony, repeated again and again and again. She told herselfdesperately that it was only a cock, it couldn't be that big, but it was liketrying to judge the size of a hole in a tooth: she felt as if she were beingreamed out with a fence stake. By the time the man bellowed in triumph andground himself against her in orgasm, she had run out of screams and was weepinghopelessly.
Then the next one got onto her. And the next. And the next.
By the time they left she was beginning to recover from the taser, but shelay where they had spread her, shaking with sobs while a pool of spunk driedunder her crotch. Two of her captors lifted her between them and pulled herarms over their shoulders, and half stumbling, half dragged, she was helpedback to her room to collapse on the bed and weep again. They chivvied her toshower and eat, and then left her to lie and sob.
The next morning when the organiser came into her room, she sat up in bedand said "No!" She clutched the sheet to her massive breasts andshook. "I won't! I'm not going out there again, and you can't make me- you can beat my ass to pulp, but I won't be hunted again!"
"We had an idea you might say that." His eyes despised her. "Sowe arranged something more than the paddle." He jerked the sheet out ofher hands and thrust out with a cattle prod.
She howled at the explosion of pain in her breast, and rolled off the sideof the bed to cringe in the corner, panting. They watched her and waited.
"Get dressed," he said. Sobbing, she pulled on the hated grey suitand walked out into the Tomb.
She ran as she had never run before. The organisers hardly had to prompther: she was inspired by terror. She climbed walls that were supposed to beunclimbable, squeezed through tiny pipes, leapt yawning gaps. She suspectedthat the organisers were having to tell the hunters where she was, and shecursed them with what little breath she could spare as she ran. She droppeddown a rope, dived though a trapdoor, dodged shots and raced down a corridorand crouched to push a secret panel...
Which didn't open. With a wail of despair she leapt up and ran on, but shehad lost too much time. Shots cracked again and again behind her, and at lastone connected; she hit the floor and slid to a stop, skinning her cheekbone.
While two of them were skinning down her pants, she saw a pair of feet strideup to her face: then she yelled in pain as her head was dragged up by the longbraid which had been woven into her real hair. An open fly passed her eyes,then a stiff cock waved in front of her, the stink of stale piss and smegmafilling her nostrils. "Open wide, Lara!" he gloated.
Her jaw was about the only muscle she could still control: she clenched itdesperately. Then someone grabbed her left breast and crushed and twisted asif he were juicing an orange, and with a howl she gaped obediently. The slimyglans smeared over her cheek, then forced down her unwilling tongue and hitthe back of her throat so that she gagged and fought for breath. It thrustand beat her throat while she struggled to suck air between chokes, sheddingfoul tasting crumbs on her tongue, till at last as her vision was fading toblack it jerked and flooded her mouth with acrid goo that spilled over herchin to mix with the tears streaming down her face. Through a haze of painshe heard him yelling "Yaaah...! Take it, Lara...! I got LARA CROFT!"
As he dropped her onto her back, and the other men began to spread her legs,Jolie wondered how much more of this it would take before she went completelymad.
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