When I finally relaxed, still breathing deeply, onto the bed, I could see from the six cannons pointing directly at my body, like a firing squad toward their victim, that the men were turned on big time by my experience.
‘What about her pussy?’ one asked.
‘Do you think that will get another similar result?’ another added.
‘Worth a try. Let’s make her beg for sex before we fuck the bitch again.’
I recoiled as one of the electrical prods neared my most sensitive area and lightly touched the skin where my hairy twat commenced.
I jumped and shouted at the sudden pain that felt like a nail had just been rammed home.
‘What do you want whore?’
I decided to play along as best I could.
‘I want sex?’ I replied rather blandly.
‘Not good enough,’ the one who had used the prod replied.
His friend placed his wand immediately to the right of my pussy into the area where leg and body join.
I convulsed in pain again, pulling hard against my bonds.
‘I want hard sex!’
We want more than that slut!’ What type of woman are you?’
As I sought a suitable reply, another sharp shock close to my damp pussy jolted into thinking quickly.
‘I’m a whore.’
‘And?’
‘I’m a cheap whore.’
‘More, much more. Be explicit.’
‘I’m nothing but a dirty prostitute who loves fucking dirty sex performed on me by fucking dirty men.’
‘I like it. Tell us more.’
‘I’m the dirtiest, filthiest, slutiest, fucking whore you will ever meet, and I need to be fucked without limit in all three whore holes by your fucking thick cocks until I’ve proved what a total vial fucked up prostitute I really am!’
That little speech seemed to be enough as all six made a beeline to untie me and position me so that they could fulfil my request.
For the next two hours, I was pulled and pummeled, taken and thrust, fucked and filled in a seeming none stop display of raw lust that left me breathless, and not just because of being squashed under the men’s vast bulk.
Eventually, with all of us huffing and puffing from our exertion, it was time for me to be taken home but not without being asked if I would be willing to meet the men again on another occasion.
I’m not a girl who is always looking for a bronzed male with a full head of jet black hair and a six-pack. I prefer men with manners who are polite and appreciate what I try to do for them. These six guys would never have fitted the first description. They did, however, fill the second, and I was happy to exchange numbers as I knew that, sadly, because of their bulk, few girls would have ever given them a second look.
Upon arrival at the drive that led to my accommodation, where I knew the others would be waiting, the car stopped.
‘Sorry,’ the driver said, ‘You have to walk from here.’
‘But it’s a mile up that track,’ I protested.
‘I’m just following orders,’ he replied. ‘Your friends told us when we had finished with you to drop you at the bottom of the lane in your lacy dress and let you walk up.’
‘Uh. Thanks,’ I smiled as I climbed out of the car and into the gloaming.
‘Goodnight,’ the driver called, ‘Thanks for such a fun day. It was a fucker!’
‘Thanks, Rachel,’ the passenger in the rear called out as he wound down his window. ‘You are something else!’
The air was still, and it was apparent that if the sky remained clear, there would be a hard frost that night. I fastened the cord on my inadequate attire and commenced the chilly walk towards the house.
I have never feared the dark, and I wasn’t frightened of being left alone after nightfall, even as a child. The only goosebumps I suffered were from the cold as I made my lonely way along the dirt track.
I was about halfway along and hurrying more to keep warm than anything when I heard a car long before seeing its lights as it came along the track towards me. I knew it must be some of the men I was staying with as no one else would be visiting the house at six in the evening, and I guessed they wanted to give me a lift the rest of the way.
As I stepped to the side of the road, the car sped up and passed me in a rapid blur of white and red lights. As it passed, I was doused in a shower of cold, muddy water from one of the larger potholes adorning the track. The vehicle continued without slowing toward the castle.
For a moment, I was stunned by the shock and lost for breath in the night air.
Then I realised that such an act had been deliberately planned, and whoever was in the car would have enjoyed the idea of covering an inappropriately dressed thirty-one-year-old woman with muddy water.
I walked on colder than ever until, at last, I came to the comforting sight of the house with a light shining over the large front door. I went to open it, but it was locked.
I banged hard on the knocker adorning the solid door.
‘Whose there?’ I heard a voice call.
‘Me.’
‘Whose ‘Me?’
‘Rachel?’
‘Pardon.’
‘Rachel, your slut.’
‘Oh, you.’
The voice sounded somewhat disappointed.
The door slowly opened as twelve faces peered out at the cold, damp and muddy form silhouetted in the light from above the door.
I breezed in, trying to put on an act of defiance.
‘Who wants to join me for a shower tonight?’ I inquired haughtily. Several men started toward me until I added, ‘Outside along the road!’
Dinner had been prepared and served by the time I had showered, washed, dried my hair and gone downstairs to join the others.
‘How did today go?’ I was asked, and it took pretty much the whole of dinner to thoroughly answer all that had happened.
That evening another little group made as much use of me as possible before I was finally allowed to go to bed. My account of rimming the larger men must have excited some interest as I was asked to perform this action three times on each man. That night I also had to suck balls and, interestingly, kiss and caress belly buttons before the men unleashed their seamen deep into my pussy.
I knew the next day would be a test as I had agreed to the request to play a forced fantasy role with the men, and I had a feeling it might be tough going. I was aware that the men were looking forward to this idea the most as it had come up time and again in conversation. They had made it plain that not only would I be ‘forced’ but flogged and given other punishments as the day progressed.
As I climbed the stairs to my bedroom, I heard one of the men call after me, ‘Tomorrow we will strip you and whip you before we rape you, rope you, and ravish you slut!’
I knew he meant it.