Interesting Consequences

"Relax honey" the big rancher eased with a twang "It aint like we're gonna jump you or nothin. We're here for a little fun, that's all!"

His promise was meant to be reassuring but it had the opposite effect. I knew what a gang-bang was and up until his "jump you" statement I hadn't given that possibility a thought. Their presence had seemed a deterrent at first, removing the possibility of Mr. Lowery taking advantage of me completely, but now I saw that wasn't the case at all. Despite what he said there was a very real chance I would lose my carefully guarded virginity that night, lose it in a horrible orgy of grasping hands, leering faces and animal lust. I felt suddenly exposed, more naked even than standing there in lingerie on exhibit. I was being stripped of my will, my choice and my innocence as surely as I was my dignity. I started to cry, shamed by the tears as much as by their gawking. I covered my face and hoped somewhere the pitiful display would earn me some compassion. When I glanced up however what I found was the fat guy smiling, laughing silently, his big belly jiggling.

The sight kindled a sudden fire in me, flaring my emotion in a way I didn't expect at all. It pissed me off! Who was this fat son-of-a-bitch to sit there and laugh while I bawled my eyes out? Who were any of them to kick back with their booze and stare as a young girl was victimized. The anger was surprising but welcome. I'm not known as the hot-headed type but I can show a temper. Up till now I had been consumed with guilt, regret, fear and embarrassment but this new emotion brought back a spark of dignity. My situation was hopeless yes, I had accepted that, but I didn't have to weep and blubber like some abused child. Whatever they took from me, there weren't going to see me groveling, not anymore.

I glared at the fat guy then turned to Mr. Lowery. I tried to straighten up to regain my composure but it was difficult while keeping one hand across my bust and another covering my crotch. I managed it though and tilted my chin up in a show of self-respect.

"Mr. Lowery" I said, voice still quivering but with what I hoped was a confident air. "I know we made a deal and I guess I have to go along with it, but getting hurt isn't part of it. I'd rather go to jail for the rest of my life than let you do that to me."

The room was very quiet for what seemed like minutes but was only a few seconds I'm sure. When Mr. Lowery responded his voice was flat, matter of fact, but with perhaps just a touch of kindness.

"Shaylee, we aren't monsters. What Mr. Kelmore said was right on. We're gonna have a little fun at your expense sure enough darlin, you earned that, but nobody is going to hurt you. That's a promise. You're damned right though that we have a deal and you're absolutely going to go through with it so the quicker you calm yourself down and get to it, the better. Hell you might just find yourself having a little fun too if you let yourself."

Inwardly I felt a deep sigh of relief. "Fun?" not likely but it did seem as though my biggest fear could be put behind me. They could do whatever they wanted, promises or no, but there was a sincerity in Mr. Lowery's voice, and in the expressions of the others (accept for the fat guy who seemed to visibly disappointed) that made me actually believe him. I nodded looking back at Mr. Lowery and blinked away the last few tears.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked meekly.

Mr. Lowery smiled, more genuinely than he had all night. Looking at his friends he gestured to them and replied.

"Well, for starters these boys would like a good look at you sweetheart. I have to tell you, you do that fancy outfit proud. I had no idea you were such a fine looking woman Shaylee!"

I blushed, I actually blushed. I would never have admitted it at the time but his praise affected me. He wasn't calling me 'cute' or 'sweet' like a kid but appraising me as a woman a "fine looking woman" he had said. I tried not to smile back but I cracked a small one bashfully and he laughed, encouraged.

"So let's just start with Mr. Matheson over there and let him go first. He tells you how to pose and you do it. Got it?"

I was a little taken aback by the suggestion but quickly recovered. Posing? Strutting around however they told me to?

"God, seriously?" I thought. The terror of possibly being raped had removed all other concerns and I had almost forgotten about what I was wearing, or more appropriately what I wasn't wearing. It all came rushing back now, not just the exposed skin but the lewd image the lingerie presented me in. I bit my lip. Now they wanted me to pose in it.

"It isn't too bad though, just posing. Is it?" I reflected, desperately grasping for some perception that would ease the guilt and humiliation reemerging. I suppose it's what I should have expected. They dressed me up in that sexy lingerie like one of those girls in a magazine, they weren't going to let me just stand there covering up. Still, feeling somewhat relieved by their assurances I began to feel fortunate in a strange way. They only wanted me to pose while they watched. It was sick and unbelievably embarrassing but could have been so much worse. Looking at Mr. Lowery I nodded my head subtly.

"Put your hands up in your hair girl, raise your arms sexy-like, you know?" came the first instruction from the quiet guy with glasses. I did so awkwardly and shifted my weight to one hip like I'd seen models do before. They responded with murmurs of approval and the guy with glasses applauded quietly, smiling and dipping his head in mock gratitude.

The big rancher was next, asking me to face away from him, put my hands on my hips and look back over my shoulder. I tried it and felt like one of those old World War II pinup girls, profoundly self conscious of how my panties rode up in the back, clearly visible through the sheer robe. It must have been the look he was aiming for because he let out a low whistle and muttered under his breath.

"You were right Lowery, she is something special. My oh my."

The younger guy, in pretty good shape for a man his age, took his turn next. He asked me to lie down on my back, bring one knee up and raise myself up on my elbows. It was intimidating lying there on the carpet with all of them leering down at me but I managed it and again there was hushed praise and another whistle from Mr. Kelmore the rancher.

I was completely embarrassed and awkward in my movements, my breathing was rapid and my heart pounded but some of my anxiety was fading. What I was being forced to do was undeniably shameful but with each passing minute a bit less stressful and the posing required me to think and thinking more meant feeling less. I was constantly aware of what I was at risk of revealing with each pose and hastily attempted to readjust the gauzy-nothing of my robe to maintain some illusion of coverage. Concentrating on the mechanics of what I was being asked to do was distracting me. As a result I was slowly becoming more comfortable with the situation, seeing it as a humiliating but necessary means to an end instead of the nightmare of a few minutes before.

When Mr. Lowery gestured to the fat guy to proceed however and he blurted out his own impatient request, it changed dramatically.

"C'mere girl, right here in front of me. I want you to get on your knees, look me right in the eye and shove your hands down the front of those panties."

Startled and disgusted, I looked at Mr. Lowery for what I half hoped would be an objection, but there was none forthcoming. He just nodded at me, then again more sternly. Sighing I walked tentatively closer to the chubby little freak, his hands still kneading his knee caps as his heels pistoned up and down. I sunk to my knees in front of him feeling suddenly even more shamed and subjugated in that position than at any time yet that evening.

"Do it!" he stage whispered to me, eyes burning with an unsettling kind of passion.

I looked away as I reached down slowly but was firmly reminded I was to make eye contact throughout. Raising my head I looked him right in those hungry, glassy eyes and slid my hands into the clinging material below my naval.

"Deeper." He ordered "All the way between your legs."

I spread my legs a bit and reached further, feeling filthy in a way I had never before imagined. He held me there with his gaze for a long time, his eyes pawing over me and locking for long uncomfortable moments on where my hands were.

"You wet?" he asked sneering.

I didn't respond, my eyes widening a bit in surprise at the vulgarity of the question. He rocked back laughing.

"You brought us a little choir girl didn't you Lowery?" He asked mockingly, wrapping a chubby hand around his beer can again. "God aint she sweet though?"

Dismissed I stood up, gratefully backing away from the repulsive jerk. As I edged back to the center of the room I was met with another suggestion and the sordid game continued. For the next few minutes I responded to a succession of suggestive instructions, holding a dozen different poses. They were fairly unobtrusive at the beginning but became more immodest as each followed the last. The fat man especially delighted in placing me in poses that were degrading or outright pornographic.

After sitting demurely, legs crossed on a stool for the guy with glasses the fat guy made me get down on all fours, legs spread, with my bottom in his face as I arched my back. He actually got down on the floor behind me, his face inches from my backside as he commented.

"That is one grade-A piece of sweet ass there boys. I don't think it's ever seen cock, do you?"

I shut my eyes and bit my lip in silent defiance. The nearness of him back there and the filth he was spilling about me were intolerable. Again I looked around for some sign of objection from the others but they didn't interfere. I was starting to get the feeling they were permitting him to push me to exploits they weren't comfortable suggesting themselves but were equally yearning to see. The trail he was blazing though made it easier for them to follow and follow they did.

I was made to lie down spread eagle, spreading my legs as far as I possibly could and then to stand and jump up and down, causing my breasts and butt to bounce wantonly. Each pose was more brazen than the last and seemed contrived to shed my inhibitions in small manageable steps, inexorably leading me to something just a bit further.

It was eventually the fat man of course that breeched the unspoken limitations of the game so far and edged me into something different altogether.

"Ok girl, enough of this teasing, you strip down a little and let's get a real good look." He ordered.

There was no reaction from the other men at all, despite the unexpected and considerable escalation. It was clear then that they had been waiting for this moment, playing me, drawing me slowly along. I knew that had he said something like this at first I would have been panic-stricken, perhaps even preferring the police to the sordid exploitation. Having already broken down some of my inhibitions however, abasing myself in the most humiliating of poses for them, it seemed like a disgraceful but manageable indignity. The other's silence at his direction was a unanimous show of support and I resigned myself once again to what was coming.

I slipped the robe off my shoulders and it cascaded airily to my feet. Hesitating I couldn't resist a glance at the fat man, leaning forward eagerly in his chair. He nodded then gestured impatiently.

"Fucking do it bitch, panties or the top next, your choice."

The slur stung. Up to that point, despite the liberties they were taking, there had been a sort of respectful measure in the way they addressed me. Their requests had been accompanied with 'please' and each pose was followed by a show of appreciation. The tone of the situation had just changed however, markedly.

"Let's go slut, enough with the shy act, you know your into this, quit jerking us around." He followed, sitting back in his chair impatiently and finishing the last of another beer in a sloppy gulp.

Behind me Mr. Lowery spoke up for the first time in several minutes.

"It's too far to turn back now Shaylee, better to just get on with it. It would be a shame to go through all this and still end up in jail, don't you think? Not to mention if you bail on us now I'm not so sure I can keep these boys quiet about it."

His words were painfully effective. How could I turn back now? Jail would be almost a blessing if by fleeing our agreement it left these men free to disclose what had happened here tonight. Sure there was some risk in it for them but as respected business men they could spin the story any number of ways, all of which ruining my reputation and embarrassing my family on a level I couldn't imagine. Being outted as a thief would have been terrible but confessing to this sleazy performance was beyond comprehension. I realized at that moment that I had willingly removed every protection I thought I enjoyed. From that moment forward I had no choices, there were no more limits.

The fear of what that lack of limits might bring was back, my chest tightening again and my pulse racing but there was a clear feeling of inevitability to it now. I was scared certainly but determined to do what I had to at that point, regardless of what it entailed. The stakes had risen to previously inconceivable levels and required equally inconceivable measures to manage them. I had lost some innocence somewhere back there bending and stretching and spreading for these men, probing my privacy and virtue with leering eyes. I had lost just enough perhaps to allow a more cynical and callous girl to do what was necessary to keep her reputation and freedom intact.

Comically it took longer for me to decide what to remove first than it did to stripping period. It seems ridiculous now but even under the extreme conditions the self consciousness of a teenager was still intact. The idea of removing my panties in front of these men, showing them my most private of areas, was unnerving but it was where my breasts were concerned that I was truly timid. I had bloomed a bit late and even at that age I was still torn between being embarrassed at their sudden growth or that they had not yet grown enough. When wearing anything my first priority was to make sure it fit well up there. I knew my butt looked good in a pair of jeans but I still wasn't comfortable with my bust line at all. The under-wired teddy had graciously enhanced and somewhat hid me till now but the idea of leaving my breasts uncovered for their eyes was petrifying.

I was still debating this ridiculous choice when the fat man grew impatient.

"Are we gonna see something or not Lowery? I drove six hours for this shit, loosen this bitch up already!" Then he turned back to me. "Take it off sweetheart or I'll take it off for you!"

Before I could react Mr. Lowery interjected but not in any way I might have hoped.

"Maybe Mr. Louis has a point Shaylee. I realize this is hard for you. A little help might be a good idea but I don't think Mr. Louis is the right one to offer it. He seems a bit anxious, don't you think?" he laughed when he said this but a hard cast of his eyes as he glanced to the fat guy told me there was a warning there. I was subtly relieved that in some way Mr. Lowery was in charge of this presentation and he was maintaining some sort of discipline. The relief would be short lived.

Mr. Lowery turned to the guy with the classes and the younger guy next. "Harvey, Drew? Do you want to do the honors?"

Both men rose instantly, the younger man chiding the fat Mr. Louis for cheating himself of this opportunity. The fat guy spit a slur at him but remained seated, watching intently. The two men approached me and I had to fight not to flinch as they stepped in close, in front and back. Behind me the man with glasses, Harvey I assumed, reached down and grabbed the frilly bottom of the babydoll, rolling the material in his hands and preparing to draw it up. To my front, the younger man knelt down and slowly ran his hands up the sides of my thighs until a couple fingers hooked into the thin waistband of my panties. He must be Drew I thought and the name shot a memory through me like a bolt of electricity.

My father had promoted to manager three years before and replaced his former boss who had taken an even higher position somewhere else. As a silly girl in junior high I hadn't paid much attention back then to his professional dealings or co-workers but had met a few. As this man prepared to tug my panties down, inches from his face, I suddenly realized I knew him. He was the previous manager, Drew Morrison, my father had introduced us at his promotion party. He had teased and picked on me that evening like a newly discovered uncle. I had liked him, I remembered that, with a sort of crush-like infatuation that only adolescent girls can experience. He had been young, still was, muscular and handsome and had treated me like a young lady instead of a little girl. Now here he was, his face only inches from my tummy, about to pull off my panties.

After combing his eyes over my legs, belly and crotch for several seconds he looked up and made eye contact.

"You remember me don't you Shaylee." He stated, not really asking at all. He knew I did. The connection somehow intensified the unbearable intimacy of that moment. This was no stranger but a man I knew, had spoken to, even crushed on. The realization made me nauseous, my legs trembling. What was happening to me was impossible.

In the next second the baby-doll teddy was drawn up briskly, my arms lifting without warning as the material slid up across my waist, my chest, shoulders and finally over my head. Somewhere, dimly sensed amid the sensation of looking through the sheer material as it flowed past my face, I felt the tight fabric of my panties spill down my thighs. The teddy clung to my hair a moment and as I stood there helpless, my arms suspended above me as Harvey fought to free the garment, the falling panties halted. I realized that my garters wouldn't allow them to be removed independently. I was shocked as Drew then ripped them from my legs effortlessly with a sudden powerful jerk.

The teddy and torn panties were tossed to the couch behind us and I stood there revealed. My hands were slowly returning to my sides but I made no attempt to use them for concealment. Any such gesture would have been pitiful and senseless. The room had become noticeably quiet. Even the fat Mr. Louis had laid his most recently opened beer can aside and merely sat, staring. The two men who had undressed me stepped back, Harvey's mouth open in what looked like a staged expression of awe.

My breasts, now fully revealed, stood out plainly in the room's dim light. Firm, white and unrestrained they tingled from the coolness of the room and the ardent exposure. I gasped a little as the effect stiffened my nipples, the supple pink flesh rising visibly and it drew an appreciative hiss from someone. Each breath I took seemed to augment their display, unintentionally panning them up and then down only slightly but the subtle movement was tracked by every eye in the room.

The cool air brought a chill up and inside my thighs as well, introducing the never-before encountered caress of complete exposure to what lay between. Shaving had never been a consideration down there, a light down of white blonde my only covering. Something more substantial might have been comforting as I stood there, my sheer nakedness screaming at me. I could feel their eyes roaming across the white swells of my butt cheeks, along the smooth toned stretch of my hips and belly and then sloping in to the not quite hidden recesses of my koo-chee. The nickname came unbidden to my mind, given by my mother when speaking to womanly cleanliness or privacy. It took on a whole new meaning now as my koo-chee was on full display.