Rosemary's Baby

A short story and with more than a hint on non-consent, so if that's not to your taste, then close this tab and look elsewhere. Then again, it's a free country, so if your preference is to read the story and then afterwards bitch that you didn't like it because it wasn't to your taste, then that's fine by me either.

I was standing at the kitchen sink washing salad leaves when I heard the front door opening; I paid it little attention as my husband Malcolm had only just gone through it in the other direction. My daughter Kylie and her husband Tony were due to arrive in less than an hour, so I was preparing dinner while Walter went out to do the evening feeds and final-check around the farm.

Kylie and Tony were staying with us for a couple of months -- at least! - so I was excited, as well as busy. Kylie was thirty-six weeks pregnant, with our first grandchild, so with Tony working eighteen-hour days, seven days a week at the moment -- he's an agricultural contractor -- Kylie and I both agreed that it would be best if she came home to stay with her mum for the duration.

Another advantage of Tony & Kylie staying at our house rather than their own, was that Kylie would give birth at the maternity unit in Skipton's Airedale Hospital, rather than the one at Burnley General Hospital. It's a Yorkshire/Lancashire thing... You probably need to live around here to fully understand, but that was certainly of importance to both the expectant father and grandfather.

I heard footsteps coming into the kitchen and spoke without looking around: "So what did you forget Malcolm? You're getting more senile every day."

A moment later I felt Malcolm's hands squeeze my buttocks, before slipping around onto my hips and then sliding down my thighs; I still didn't turn around: "Behave you randy old bugger! The kids will be here in an hour, I don't have time for any of your shenanigans."

Only when Malcolm's hands began to slide north again -- lifting my skirt up as they did so! - did I even consider that things weren't quite right and the body of my skirt was bunched around my hips by the time that thought consolidated. My body tensed and I released a squeal, but it was all too late; those hands released my skirt, one wrapping around my left arm and torso, the right hand heading back south.

It was only when I felt that hand sliding inside my panties that I properly began to struggle, but by then the battle was already lost. I tried to close my legs but a knee was jammed between my thighs, the man pressed forward to pin my hands between my pelvis and the kitchen unit; in doing so I felt the outline of his cock pressing into my lower back.

That sensation was proof positive that this wasn't just my husband fooling around, it struck too high -- and was far too large! - to be Malcolm's cock. The man's hand now closed on my right breast and fondled, nay, groped it roughly; I could feel his fingers bite into my flesh, while he no doubt felt my embarrassingly hard nipple digging into the palm of his hand.

The man's left hand too had reached it's destination; his palm grasped onto my mons, while having already trawled through the coarse hair covering my pubis, his fingers probed at the centre of my womanhood. A second wave of embarrassment flowed over me as I sensed in that moment, that he would find an ignominious dampness within.

In the same moment -- finally! - I also found my voice and shrieked: "No! Stop it... you mustn't!"

I froze when I heard the calm and measured reply: "Course I can Rosemary, that's what was agreed; 'there'll be no please, thank you, or standing on ceremony lad; you're to treat this place like it's your own home; if there's owt you want, just grab it and take it. You'll be welcome to it'. That's what Malcolm said and you confirmed it."

I was no longer frozen... I'd begun to tremble. That voice belonged to my Son-in-Law, Tony and I knew what he'd just said was true... technically. Malcolm had told him that he could take and use whatever he wanted, but we both knew damned well that Malcolm's offer didn't include his wife! A suitably tart response was on my lips when two of those fingers between my legs found their target.

As Tony's fingers penetrated and then twisted within me, what actually came out of my mouth was a protracted primal moan of acceptance; worse yet, my hips bucked to meet Tony's lewd intrusion. As my head fell back onto Tony's shoulder, that moan became a purr, one which Tony spoke over: "I heard in the pub what a cock-crazed old whore you were Rosie; it seems they were right... your cunt's dripping wet."

I still couldn't form the reply that I wanted and which was so sorely needed. Tony's fingers continued their probing, twisting exploration of my pussy, while my pelvis' involuntarily writhing to meet their invasion, refused to be quelled. I could guess who Tony had been speaking too; what he'd heard was ancient history, Tony needed to hear the truth, but all I could manage were a stream of moans, groans and feral growls.

I'd lost my mother before puberty and grown up to be rather... wayward, something especially noticeable in a village the size of ours. At eighteen I'd discovered the delights of drink, drugs and most especially men, after which I went off the rails completely. There were few evenings when somebody didn't fuck me and several where it was more than one somebody, indeed more than once, Rosemary took on all comers.

So yes, I probably had been a cock-crazed slut; but that had changed when I was twenty and more pertinently, when I'd discovered that I was pregnant with Kylie. I had little more idea than anyone else as to who Kylie's father might be and none of my... paramours were in any hurry to accept responsibility... Until Malcolm stepped forward.

Malcolm was and indeed still is, a good man; without doubt the best one to ever enter my life. But he's not Kylie's biological father and we both knew that even then; Hell's-Bells, Malcolm was one of the few men in the area whom I couldn't recollect having slept with at least once! That belief became a certainty when no brothers or sisters arrived for Kylie; Malcolm was infertile and always had been.

Tony needed to hear all of that, but all I managed to voice was another series of moans, squeals and gasps of 'oh fuck yes'; exactly what Tony might've expected to hear from a cock-crazed old whore. That problem was only exacerbated when Tony's left hand wormed its way inside my blouse; my breasts spilled free of my bra's restraint and Tony began pinching and twisting savagely at my nipples.

I've unsure how soon my climax arrived, but I expect that it was disgracefully quick and it was certainly humiliatingly overt when it did arrive. Those chants of 'Oh Fuck Yes' went through the roof ahead of a final primal groan and an epileptic twitching, as Tony's growl filled the silence: "Get your knickers off Rosie, I'm gonna fuck that slick cunt."

Another opportunity to set the record straight? It should have been, but by then I was lost. In my mind I was eighteen again, a bitch in heat, willing to spread her legs for any dog that barked in my direction. I didn't hesitate, my pants were on their way down before Tony had finished speaking; when they landed at my feet I kicked just the one leg free and spread my legs -- I hadn't time for the second!

A moment later I felt the damp-tipped shaft of Tony's cock slide through the crack of my buttocks; when had he got that out of his pants? Who gives a damn, just as long as Tony puts it inside me and NOW! Tony didn't disappoint, he found his way effortlessly and the head of his cock slipped between the soft leaves of my vulva with shameful ease.

A gentle and shallow - trial? - penetration followed, then a pause as Tony growled "Mmmmmm isn't Rosemary a juicy old slapper." An instant later Tony SLAMMED his cock into me; Jesus Christ but he was big! Fatter and longer than I'd anticipated; my lightly used -- of late -- channel halted Tony's thrust before he was fully home; it's impact lifted me off my feet as I squealed under Tony's crude assault.

My toes had barely returned to the floor when my pussy-walls yielded to a second and equally powerful thrust; this sent me airborne once more as the full length of Tony's cock speared into my abused pussy. My squeal morphed into a groan of delight, though that was inaudible beneath Tony's roar of conquest and a snarled: "You're one tight bitch Rosemary; I'm going to have a lot of fun splitting you open."

The instant I landed, Tony dragged me a little further away from the worktop, his cock remaining deep inside me. A hand roughly entwined in my hair and pressed down, bending me over the worktop as Tony's cock withdrew; a moment later he ploughed into me for a third time. Now thrusting horizontally my feet remained on the floor, but the impact bounced my breasts against the kitchen unit.

That was the only beginning, but a good indication of what lay in store for me and teenage memories flooded back. Tony rode me savagely, a half-dozen bestial penetrations against which I had to brace and which by so doing, made their impacts even harder; after that Tony's pace eased a little. I'd been here a hundred times before, Tony hadn't eased-off for my benefit, but to extend his own pleasure.

With the mare subdued, it was time to enjoy her at his leisure and Tony did exactly that. Sliding his cock into my defenceless cunt in whatever fashion best suited his desires of the moment; it was a careless, selfish and inconsiderate fuck, with no concern for what I might have preferred. I hadn't been used like this in over twenty years; but just like riding a bicycle... one never forgets.

That idiom was perhaps quite apt? Along with 'Slut', 'Slag' and 'Whore' I'd often heard myself branded the 'Village-Bike' in that period before I married Malcolm. No doubt I've often been described in similar terms since, but at least they've rarely been within my hearing and I've ignored them when I have heard. Perhaps that's why I'd come to believe that silly girl was gone forever?

If the last few minutes had given the lie to that idea; those that followed quashed it completely: Tony took his pleasure in me thoughtlessly, treating me as his personal fuck-toy, with no respect whatsoever. While I, to my shame, revelled in every sordid second of his abuse; voicing my submission in the foulest of language as Tony's cock ceaselessly pistoned into my pussy.

Tony's left hand stayed in my hair, pinning me to the worktop, but to his right hand, Tony gave free rein. That hand roamed back up to my breasts in the first instance, but this time it arrived there inside my blouse. The barrier of my brassiere remained, but that defence proved short-lived; Tony simply grasped it between my breasts and jerked it free.

There was a moments pain across my back before the clasp broke, with a far sharper -- and sweeter? - one arriving a moment later. As my breasts swung free, Tony caught the left one in his palm and his fingers wrapped around and bit deep into the flesh; a second later his thumb and index finger found the nipple to twist and squeeze that with equal aggression.

The squeal that drew from my lips spoke of far more than pain and Tony picked-up on it too. "Ooh you liked that didn't you Rosemary." And he was right, Damn-It! My boobs and nipples both grew huge during pregnancy, but after Kylie was weaned my boobs had settled back almost to where they'd begun; but not my nipples, they have remained a rich mahogany and massive ever since.

Tony's cock was still sliding into me and that coupled, with his fresh assault on my breasts tripped my switches; I tried my best to resist, but Tony had forced a second orgasm out of me. At the last I grasped at the worktop's edge and gritted my teeth in an effort to quell, or at least mask my surrender, but the sound of Tony's laughter advised of my failure, even before he spoke.

"You love a cunt full of cock cock don't you Rosie... We'll need to find out where else you like filling." I didn't voice a reply, but I did struggle beneath him, which drew more laughter from Tony and a growled "Not today then, but I'm sure we'll find plenty of opportunities while Kylie and me are staying here.." Tony punctuated that with another of those more powerful penetrations.

This time around those harder and faster strokes didn't tail off, Tony continued to pound into me. As he did so the hand which had been teasing my breasts drifted south; besides Tony's cock invading my pussy, his fingers forced their way into me too. And not to gently tease, Tony's callused finger tips were digging deep, while his thumb gouged at my delicate clitoris.

My response was rapid -- had that last orgasm ever completely faded? - and equally powerful; within seconds I was again writhing beneath Tony and this time growling like a wild animal. My climax was fast approaching, I knew that this time I couldn't mute it; I was going to be loud! Snatching up the tea towel beside me -- a shower of salad leaves leaping into the air! - I wedged it between my lips.

My surrender was obvious to Tony too, he was pulling his fingers free of my pulsing pussy as he snarled into my ear "That's it you old scrubber, let it go... cum for Tony". I couldn't have defied him if I'd wanted to; alongside that snarled order, came the sensation of Tony's first gout of semen streaming into me and the delicious of pain of Tony spearing a finger deep into my bum.

I simply exploded! My orgasm was violent; perhaps befitting of the coupling that had caused it? I jerked against the kitchen worktop, my knuckles showing white as I gripped onto the tea towel I'd just grabbed while my teeth bit so hard on it that it tore. That towel didn't die in vain; it quelled a series of screams that even out in the farm yard, my husband and daughter wouldn't have failed to overhear.

When Tony stepped away I slumped to the kitchen floor, too dissipated to keep my feet; Tony's voice called me back from the abyss: "You're some fuck Rosemary... I'm betting that you love it up your arse too..." I made to reply, but Tony continued, speaking over me "But that'll have to wait, Walter and Kylie will be back any minute so I'll finish off making that salad, while you go and make yourself presentable."

l wanted to respond; hell I wanted to scream in outrage! But a glance at the clock confirmed Tony was right about the others returning; they couldn't find us like this! My anger would have to wait; I snatched up my discarded panties and headed for the stairs as Tony casually buckled his belt, wearing a shit-eating grin on his face. "This is not going to be the end of the matter young man!"

I was safely in the bathroom before Tony's reply hit home: "I never expected it to be. Once was never going to be enough for you Rosemary... We both know you'll be coming back for more." My outrage rose to new heights, Tony had misconstrued my words completely! The next time we had a few minutes privacy I was going to set Tony straight! I'd tell him... tell him... tell him what?

The 'next time' proved to be three days later, at four o'clock in the morning and I was afforded little opportunity to say anything... For the most part my mouth was filled with Tony's cock and then with another tea-towel to once again muffle my orgasmic screams as he made good on his threat and pounded his cock into my bottom.

During harvest time Tony spent most nights in the grain fields, just crashing-out for a few hours sleep in his van as and when he could. When Tony did make it home it was usually due to weather or a mechanical breakdown, so those could be at any time of the day or night; it was that, coupled with Kylie's pregnancy, which had prompted the suggestion that they come to stay with us.

We'd always make dinner for Tony and leave it plated-up in the refrigerator just in case he arrived back later. While Kylie insisted that 'Tony will be fine; he looks after himself', I felt that someone ought to get up to pop it into the microwave for him and enquire if there was anything else Tony wanted. With Kylie pregnant and Walter busy with the farm, I appointed myself to that task.

From the very first night, I discovered -- OK, perhaps not too much of a surprise - that there was invariably something else that Tony wanted and that something was me. I was appalled, disgusted and outraged by Tony's behaviour; he used me like his personal fuck-toy and I while I never once consented to Tony's lewd assaults... I simply couldn't stop him.

Kylie had her baby -- a son, Jake -- by the time the harvest season was over, but they stayed on for Kylie to recuperate, while Tony remained busy with the autumn ploughing and the planting of the winter crops. It wasn't until after Christmas that they finally went back to their own home; with promises made that they'd be back to stay with us again when the spring planting began.

It was mid January before I realised that the winter-wheat fields weren't the only place that Tony had enjoyed a successful ploughing and planting season. I was trembling with shame and not a little fear when I relayed the news to Walter; I confessed all, it was the very least he deserved. I'd been lying to myself for months, but Walter got the truth about the cock-crazed whore he was married to.

I was surprised, but perhaps shouldn't have been, by Walters response: "Well then, you'd best get straight on the phone to Kylie and give her the good news. After all these years that 'one chance in ten thousand' has obviously come good; she'll be getting a little brother or sister and Jake an Uncle or an Aunt. We're Having a baby!"

"But what... what about Tony?"

"Oh, I think if we stick to our story Tony is going to be the very last person to start questioning it... And you never know Rosie, by next spring you might be pregnant for a second time?"