The Pack Ch. 01

As the head of the man on my left tit was pushed out of the way so the forth man could take a turn I dropped my head to the side to accept his kiss and willingly took his tongue in my mouth even showing my eagerness. Another voice reiterated that I was 'Loving it!' and not seeing any reason to argue of disguise the fact any longer I gave up totally any resistance and gradually let them see my arousal.

Why they didn't force me to go all the way I wouldn't know but by the end, when each man had sated his lust my body was splashed in sperm and I had held more than one cock in my hand.

"Can I have my clothes back now?" I had asked rather comically but nervously when the men regained their usual sneering attitude. "Give them back!" said one, "We've had our fun and taught her she can't mess with us."

"Just one more forfeit!" said the evil one, "Kneel down!"

He had to do it to show his power and enjoy making me submit to his fetish; but I dropped to the floor before him without quibble - and waited calmly.

The men muttered as the yellow liquid spilled out of his prick and down my body over my tits. I remained still letting him delight in his depravity and also for the others to marvel at my compliant behaviour -- that would tell them so much. He wanted me to submit to his dirty act -- so that is what I would do -- that is what I was willing to do -- far too willing! When the last drops flowed I was ordered to lift up my head, and open my mouth. My heart raced and I shivered -- but not from fear or revulsion -- but from the joy of submitting to this pack of depraved animals. I felt scared that the realisation of the truth was more disturbing than the act I was about to perform. I lifted my gaze, and as my eyes darted to each man in turn I felt the weird feeling take over -- and I opened my mouth. Would the men know -- would they sense how my submitting to these depraved and humiliating treatment was producing inside me an abnormal thrill? Would they know that, I liked it?

Time went on and I managed to maintain my composure when in the village and play the middle-class city housewife who was finding her way about and getting accustomed to living in the countryside. The work on our property had been completed and apart from attending and supporting various local events we mixed with few of the locals, save for shopkeepers and tradesmen who delivered. Our run in with the local workmen was known throughout the area but people ignored (with a knowing smile) the tense situations when, say, we ran into them in the pub. I often detected amusement on some faces when one or some of the men blocked my path and saw the fearful expressions on my face. To the locals we would always be outsiders and they would always ignore bad behaviour from their own kind.

Which explains the incident when the butcher made a call at my house one afternoon. I heard his van pull up and hurried outside to meet him. He was a big jovial man and I always spent time gossiping with him and sometimes I would offer him a refreshing drink. My smile this day turned to one of stony shock when I encountered his travelling companions -- two of the men -- 'The Pack'.

"Got a couple of extra passengers today!" the butcher said cheerfully, "Giving them a ride over the moor to town."

I tried to remain normal and unconcerned making conversation and responding in the way I usually would.

"Let's get this stuff inside for you," said the butcher eventually.

I turned and went ahead glad to get away from having the men stand and smirk at me intimidating me. Reaching the kitchen I turned around fully expecting to see the butcher carrying his parcels of meat. The man had the parcels all right, but it wasn't the butcher. I froze, trapped in the space between the large table and the kitchen worktop. The man put down the meat and trembling I began to pick up the parcels to place inside the fridge while I had time to prepare them for the freezer, ignoring the man and hoping and expecting that the butcher would soon make an appearance. Surely the men wouldn't dare try anything while the butcher was there?

Of course I was wrong, very wrong, as I realised when arms circled my waist and held me cupping my breasts.

"No, not here -- not now!"

My pleading was done in low desperate whispers as the man's intruding hands found their way under my clothes and my bra was tugged over my breasts so my nipples could be roughly pulled and rolled between fingers and thumb. His friend, the man claimed, would be keep the butcher busy as they needed to take a look at the vehicle's engine. He offered a deal, if I gave him a 'quick wank' he would leave me alone. There was time, he argued, the butcher was busy. In my mind I had taken comfort that because of the men's fear, and probably gratitude, that I had never called the police or exposed their behaviour that we had an unspoken agreement that no one would ever know what went on, that they would never divulge to anyone else what they had done to me. This was like breaking an agreement -- the butcher was almost in hearing distance. Anxious to maintain secrecy I decided to give the man what he wanted; when I heard the sound of his zip unfasten I placed my hand inside his pants and allowed him to pull up my top to bare my breasts. My hand began to work away furiously in an effort to bring this to an end. If letting the man pull up my skirt also to play inside my panties while he sucked my tits would excite him enough to make him quickly ejaculate then why not let him?

That then is what the butcher saw when he stepped into the kitchen. I, that polite and proper housewife he had come to know, was eagerly and enthusiastically masturbating a stiff cock while having her tits sucked and pussy fingered. Could I deny my compliance and apparent enjoyment when my head was cocked back and eyes closed, wrist going like a piston engine?

"What the Hell is going on here?" said the butcher in a low quiet disbelieving voice.

"We are all old friends," smirked the man with the butcher, "We enjoy similar things -- we provide her with a service too!"

My hand stopped shaking the stiff penis and alerted to my impending panic the man held me tight, still displaying my tits and with skirt bunched up around my hips.

"No -- it's not like that!" I cried wanting to explain my predicament to the butcher.

My mouth was covered with the man's, who, besides forcing his kiss on me, resumed rubbing my clit in full view of the tradesman.

"She's a bit shy," explained the other man, "Shocked that you've discovered her secret. Ask yourself, did she look like she was being forced or did she look like she was enjoying it?"

The butcher didn't answer but just stared unbelieving. He was urged to admire my tits and I heard him agree coyly that my nipples were magnificent. My arms were trapped against my side and I was helpless. Twice I briefly opened my eyes, the first time to see the butcher watching, licking his lower lip at the way my pussy was being stimulated and how my tits bounced to and fro. The second time was after the other had spoken.

"Come on," he had said quietly to the butcher, "Join in with us, we are going to have some fun with her."

My eyes opened, alarmed, to see the red-faced man taking off his tradesman's smock and with beads of sweat already on his forehead he was loosening his belt. I yelled out as he approached me turning away from the man forcing his kisses on me, I was held tighter, feeling that my panties were already being peeled down my thighs.

The two men laughed, this time at the butcher -- like they were surprised now.

"You don't waste much time!" I heard a voice say; "Now that's a fine piece of meat!"

I cried out even louder now and opened my eyes, realising what was about to happen. The sweaty man was between my legs and now my left leg had been lifted from the floor making it impossible for me to move and worse, forcing my vagina to open wide and make access easy. The 'pack' had always stopped short of sexual intercourse, nay, rape, but it seemed the butcher assumed it was part of the game. I jerked back as his cock penetrated me and loosing balance my hips went forward as my backside was allowed to rest against the edge of the table.

"See, she's wants it all -- told you she likes it!"

Unable to fight I stopped any effort to resist and tried to rationalise the fact that the butcher was fucking me in my kitchen while two men held me, sucking and mauling my tits. With my leg still held aloft while the sweaty man's thick cock (I had, in spite of my desperate situation noted it's girth!) pounded into me I had no choice but to hang on to the men. Suddenly I became conscious that my arms had been freed and unknowingly I had automatically placed them around the shoulders of the men, who, one at each side were supporting me as they played with a tit each.

Now I looked very compliant to the butcher who looked me in the eye as he stood ramming his dick into my pussy. I stared back at him, making him show visible signs that my lewdness was bringing him to his climax. I let my eyes dart over the scene, down, side to side, then back down to watch the thick wet penis pushing hard into my cunt -- I felt my hips begin to slowly push back and forth -- I was starting to respond, to feel pleasure. That odd feeling was taking over and welling up inside me.

Not only at the mercy of the predatory men but like putty in their hands I gave in completely. The butcher, who witnessed my submission grunted and gasped as he shot his load inside my hole before reeling back breathless. The way my eyes looked at his now semi-flaccid cock inflamed the other men who until now had been content to enjoy the butchers efforts while they played with my tits. Now I had been fucked -- and I still had my legs wide open, not struggling; surely I was waiting while they all took their turn?

"Let's take her upstairs!" said one.

Who was more surprised, the men or me, when I meekly walked with them, through the living room to the old oak staircase, and without persuasion mounted the stairs? Who was more surprised when, on entering the bedroom one man ordered me to kneel on the bed, arse in the air, because he said he wanted me 'doggy fashion' and I obliged him, even spreading my knees? Did I really need telling when the third man, impatient for his turn came to sit crossways near my face and ordered me to suck his cock? Was I too quick to obey, and eager to do a good job?

For an hour I was fucked, made to suck, and spanked while I bounced, straddling and slurping while my tits were nibbled bitten and stretched. There was something very dirty about having the red-faced butcher man spread his big thighs over my head and force me to take his thick dick down my throat while he looked down, and I looked up. Those pleasant jovial and innocent conversations between young housewife and middle-aged tradesman would never happen again. Or would we both pretend, when I walked into his shop and waited my turn to be served, that nothing had happened and would we chat, discussing the weather and what the best cuts of meat were on offer that week.

That picture was in my mind as for the second time that day he spilled his sperm into me, still not believing what his eyes told him when, keeping my gaze firmly fixed on him I put out my tongue and licked the still oozing cock. Does he get to this to other 'respectable' housewives I wondered? It almost seemed as though the evil 'Pack' had become pimps. Would this sort of thing happen again; would they 'introduce' other men into this surreal sexually depraved world? I stopped myself think about it. It was silly. Surely I would never let such things happen again!

An important consideration occurred to me though. The two men that afternoon would almost certainly let the other members of their pack know that now full sex had taken place -- that they had fucked me! It may be prudent, I reasoned, that to maintain the equilibrium, to prevent jealous members betraying the secret, causing all manner of trouble and ruining my reputation, for me to let them enjoy the same pleasure, should they wish -- and all would be equal.

I spelt it out, aloud almost, in my thoughts.

"If I should ever find myself cornered and alone with the pack of men I will have to be prepared, and submit to letting them fuck me."

Thinking that thought made me tremble, and invoked the power of that bizarre feeling and it was almost as though I knew it was bound to happen. Once again my 'other rational self' came to the fore reminding me that I could prevent anything happening ever again -- if I wanted to.