The cascade spits us out into the black lake like a bad layover dump. Water’s ice-cold, slamming my bones. I clutch Alys tight, her wet body pressed to mine. We gasp for air amid the roar. Darkness total, no lights, no signs. Just the current dragging us. Hearts pounding, we kick toward a shore we can’t see. Bump into floating corpses—prison mates who didn’t make it. Fuck, that’s real. Her scream echoes mine. We paddle blind, legs churning. Something brushes her thigh underwater. Panic spikes. Finally, rock underfoot. I haul her out first, then myself. Shivering, naked now—clothes too soaked. Her heavy tits crush my chest, hips grinding for warmth. Lips lock, tongues desperate. My cock hardens fast against her slick skin. Hand slips between her thighs, wet not just from water. She strokes me firm, moaning low.
Then rustles. Footsteps on wet stone. We freeze. Hands grab us—rough, groping. Pinned down in the pitch. ‘Two degenerates,’ a gravel voice growls. Males, hungry eyes we can’t see but feel. A female voice cuts in: ‘Don’t eat ’em yet.’ Anika. Skinny bitch leads the pack, white hair wild. Five gaunt guys leer. They pat us down, fingers lingering on Alys’ curves. ‘Nice tits, fat ass.’ She fights, I swing blind—get decked. Anika claims me: ‘This cock’s mine tonight.’ They drag us to glow—mushroom lights flicker like lounge neons. Weak, but enough to see ribs, hollow cheeks. Survivors like us, jumped the falls months back. ‘Welcome to hell,’ Anika smirks. Naked circle, eyes devouring us. Tension thick, cocks twitching. All permitted here—no rules, no tomorrow.
The Stopover
We bolt into dark anyway, hands linked, stumbling. Lose clothes, hope. Hours circle back empty. Collapse against wall. Far moans—Anika fucking her crew. Heat builds. Alys mounts me slow. Lips on neck, nails rake back. I thrust up hard, her pussy gripping tight, hot against cave chill. She rides frantic, tits bouncing, gasps sharp. Cum floods her as she clenches, screaming release. Warmth spreads, but cold returns. Anika slips in later, clothes in hand. ‘Sleep with me.’ Her lean body spoons us, hand on my spent dick. No more—just shared heat, her breath hot on skin.
Dawn urge hits. Rip threads from tunic—my ‘keycard’ to out. Tie twenty meters, test current. Anika guides to edge. ‘Madness.’ Dip in, clothes on now. Current pulls left. Alys hesitates, then follows. Stroke blind, her hand in mine. Things nip legs—fear bites harder. Current strengthens. Light ahead! Scream back, but too far. Rocks scrape bottoms. Squeeze through narrowing chute, walls close, ceiling low. Sun blasts out. River spills to plain, sea beyond. Haul ashore, kiss savage. Dunes, ash soil, distant city gleam. Freedom’s runway calls. Clothes drip like checked bags. No goodbyes—just her eyes promising more. We trek, anonymous no more, but that night’s raw fuck? Burned forever.