They left him prone on his back for a few minutes until his panting for air slowed a bit, then in a flash Pete was lifted up by the arms and bound ankles for transport with his butt hanging. Back through the tunnel, they brought him into the welcoming room where he heard a commotion over by the pen. Another wrestling match was taking place and it looked like Jack was in the middle of it, but the entourage was too far away for Pete to be sure. Of one thing he was certain, whoever was in the middle of that pen was getting the holy crap beaten out of him, something with which Pete was all too familiar.
"Take him to the dipping room," Celeste shouted from behind, and the group exited the main area. Directly into that tunnel they went and when they emerged, Pete saw Sarah and two others standing knee-deep in that grey, slimy pool of nose-burning muck.
"Cut his ropes and toss him in."
Pete squirmed in a desperate struggle to break free, but with two females assigned to each limb, all he could do was helplessly hang as they swung him towards the slime and let go. He splashed into the pool seat first, gravity taking him below the surface to crash land onto his butt. With palms flat, Pete sat in the thick, salty-sulfur-smelling but soothingly-warm slime, which covered every part of him but for his head and shoulders. Before he could react, Sarah put him in a headlock while the other two secured kicking legs and swinging arms. They wrestled his head under the surface and held him there for several seconds, then raised him up coughing and gasping for air.
"C'mon, you mouse," Celeste mocked. "Fight for your life."
Again they tried to dunk him, but Pete managed to lock both arms straight onto the solid rock floor to keep his head above the gunk. Twisting and pulling with the leverage of a professional, Sarah inched his mouth closer and closer, while the others pushed on his legs and torso, rolling him over to endure another dunking. And so, mud wrestling ensued. Three women against one man, as Pete was repeatedly taken down to ingest slick, salty, sulfuric muck.
He gallantly fought with everything he had. He kicked, he punched, he squirmed, but the result was always the same: another dunking for Pete. Exhausted, his resistance faded to that of a little boy as Sarah held firm around his head and they kept him under for nearly ten seconds. They raised him. He coughed and recovered. They dunked him again for another ten before letting him up from that foul-smelling and worse-tasting gunk. He coughed and spewed the nasty liquid from his mouth, nearly gagging from the burning brine and fumes that came with it.
"That'll do, girls. Put him in the nook."
They brought him to a cornered area, draped his arms outside the pool to rest on the rock surface, while supporting his buttocks with their arms underneath. Two females outside the pool grabbed Pete's wrists and lifted him out to lay spread eagle on hard rock.
"I think you've swallowed enough. Does it taste good?"
Constantly spitting out grey goo, he continued to gag and did not answer, but he sensed a throbbing cock and lifted his head to confirm it.
"I see you like wrestling with my girls," she laughed.
They rubbed that slick muck deep into the Pete’s pores, which only further intensified the strength of his throbbing tool. Pete lay flat to enjoy the sensations of countless massaging hands, hoping, but not asking, that one of them would either mount, suck, or at the very least take his dick into their fist for some tantalizing masturbation. Nobody touched poor Pete's beautiful cock.
With a clap of their matriarch's hands, all females rose to their feet and stepped back from the prisoner, leaving him to lustfully writhe on the stone floor.
"I think he's fired up plenty," Celeste taunted. "Time to give him a whirl."
end of 3b