The Cycling Holiday

Soon after I'd got my ring, it was again time for me to show, and bang on the day, a Sunday, it arrived. So that night, instead of a normal nights fucking, it was back to 'blow jobs'. I didn't really mind, as I'd said before, they weren't as good as real sex, but they were still nice. But at the end of the night, Tom shocked me.

"I'll skip this week; I'll be back out to see you next weekend."

My heart sank,

"Tom please. Why?"

"It's pointless really. I mean you don't get anything from this face fucking, and I might as well catch up with the lads, it's been ages since I went out with them."

"No Tom please. I don't mind giving you blow jobs; honest."

"Yeh, well. It's pathetic really. I mean if we could still fuck it would be ok. But this cock sucking is just kids stuff."

"But Tom, I can't help been on my period."

"I know that, but you won't let me fuck your arse."

"Tom!"

"See. I knew you'd do that. I'll see you in a week."

"No Tom please."

"It's up to you. I mean it isn't even if you've tried it and don't like it. You're just saying no because you don't know any better."

There was silence for a while, whilst I ran the whole concept through my head. I mean even if I said yes, could I actually go through with it?

"If I say I'll try, then will you come?"

"I'll cum alright. I'll cum up your bum."

"No Tom, be serious. Will you still come to see me? I mean regularly, like you normally do."

"If I'm getting my fuck, yes."

"Ok, I'll let you try if you come on Tuesday."

"Don't worry; I'll be here, with a big jar of Vaseline."

He knocked on the door to the farmyard kitchen on Tuesday night, as was now his regular habit; no more meeting in the next village and sneaking into barns. But what we had planned for tonight was something I was dreading, even more than the worry I used to have of being caught in the barn. But we greeted each other in our normal manner, just a simple kiss and hug, and then as normal I said to mom,

"We're just going out to the stables."

"Ok, there'll be some supper on the table later, and Tom knows where to help himself to a glass of your dad's beer."

Once we were in the sleeping compartment of the horse box, we started with kissing, and then gradually he moved on to breast fondling. But whilst he was fondling my breasts, I'd released his belt, and my hand was wrapped around his throbbing cock. His hand went down the front of my knickers, and began to stroke the front part of my slit. (At this point, I never knew I had a clitoris, but I did know when he worked the front of my slit, it drove me wild.) So as he gently stroked it, I began heaving hard, and I was almost on the point of begging to be fucked. And when he turned me over, I offered no resistance. So now with me lying face down, he began working his finger into my bottom. This he did until he'd managed to get two fingers in, at which point his other arm wrapped around me, where he re-started stroking my slit. The feelings generated by his stroking, were far and away more powerful than the apprehension I had been feeling about his fingers in my bottom. And slowly, I think I actually began to respond to these fingers in a positive way.

As soon as Tom picked-up on my reaction, (A kind of involuntary pushing up with my bottom), he pulled out his fingers, and I felt his cock pushing in. It was tight, and it did hurt; but not to the point where it overrode the stimulation. And within a minute or so of his slow shafting action, I was beginning to feel a real arousal building. But before it came to any kind of compulsive force, I could feel his warm cum and the ripple in his cock as he shot it up inside me. He lay there just breathing hard, not gasping, but slow long exhausted breathing. And as he lay there on top of me, I could feel his cock just melting away like a block of ice turns to water. (But obviously not cold.) It wasn't until I actually felt it slip out, that again the feeling of revulsion at what we'd just done re-emerged.

As he got to his feet, I turned over, but I kept my gaze diverted, I felt ashamed to look at him.

"Well? It wasn't as bad as you'd thought, was it?"

I didn't feel like I could face him, but in truth, apart from the dirty feeling in my mind, the actual sex itself had been nice in a different sort of way.

"What's wrong, aren't you talking to me now?"

I turned,

"I'm sorry. Of course I'm talking to you. Please, just come and hold me."

He lay down on the bed alongside me, and we again cuddled together. As we kissed and swore our love for each other, his attention began a slow build-up in my tummy. But this time, I'd already got a half finished arousal simmering. I hadn't realised, it had been buried below my threshold of consciousness. But from the second I felt his cock entering my bottom again, my whole body just went into orbit, with shooting stars bursting all around me. His fuck took slightly longer this time and my climax arrived sooner, meaning we again proved our compatibility, cuming in unison. But the physical properties of my climax were, of course, in my pussy. Whereas his cum, and the stimulation his cock had supplied, had been in my bottom. He'd melted and slipped out, long before I'd finished heaving my pubic mound compulsively into the bed. As my climax subsided and my humping ceased, Tom said,

"Now tell me you don't like being arse fucked?"

I think if he'd not said that, I'd have come out of my arousal still feeling good, but just hearing the words, 'Arse fucked'; it gutted me, and I just couldn't lift my head to look at him.

"What the fuck's wrong now?"

I turned and in an angry voice snapped,

"You! That's what! How can you be so romantic and loving one minute and then just turn into a filthy beast the next?"

"I don't know what you're going on about."

"I don't know why I bother, you don't really love me."

"Come on now, you know I do. Be honest, before you met me nobody else fucked you the way I do?"

"Nobody else ever did it to me before you. Well apart from you and that mate Frank of yours."

"What ever."

Then there was a pause where we both were silent. Then he continued,

"You can't tell me you don't like it."

"You know I do, but it has to mean more than just sex."

"Why?"

I was confused, not with his reaction or his answers, but my own motives and beliefs. Was it alright to go with a boy and have sex, just because it's nice? I'd never have thought that a few weeks ago. Did he love me? Does that matter? I couldn't find any answers in my head, just more questions. So I resigned myself to making the best of what I'd got, and we again started to cuddle. And after one more fuck, we both made our way back to the house for supper. In bed that night I thought about the events of the evening, and gradually, convinced myself that Tom was right all along. I resolved at that point to let him educate me in the ways of sex, and not to be as he'd accused me of before; 'a silly school girl'.

The rest of the week of my period went by as you might expect, and by the end of that week, I thought no more about him fucking my bottom, than a blow job or even normal sex. So once the period week was over we returned to normal sex with the dreaded rubber jonnie. But on about the second night, I asked Tom if he'd fuck me without the jonnie, and then when he was ready to cum, he could shoot it up my bottom. At first, he was reluctant, but after the first try, he realised he, like me, actually preferred this to a rubber jonnie fuck. It did bring with it other problems, as one night we were both so engrossed in the pleasure, he only just managed to pull his cock out in time before shooting up me. But most of the time, this was now our preferred way of having sex.

The next thing of note was about three weeks after my period week had ended; Tom had said he'd take me to a friend's party that was being held at a pub in 'Camp Hill'. Dad had volunteered to let Tom borrow his Range Rover; at the time this was a very prestigious vehicle (the farmer's Rolls Royce). Tom was cock-a-hoop about driving this, although he tried to act as if it was no big deal. When we got to the pub, quite a few of his friends noticed him pulling into the car park, and the car caused quite a stir amongst them. We walked into the pub with some of these friends, and at this point, I hadn't recognised any of the lads from that first barn dance rape. But as soon as we entered the pub, and a group of lads standing over by the bar noticed us, they made a bee-line towards us.

There were eight lads in the group coming our way, and I recognised five of them from that night. In particular was John, the lad who'd argued with Tom, and who'd missed out on getting his turn to have sex with me. I clung to Tom, and said,

"Please Tom can we go?"

"Don't worry; they won't touch you while I'm around."

Then as John got within earshot,

"How's it going Tom mate, I see you've brought that little cum bucket of yours for me to have a go at."

"Shut your fucking mouth. She wouldn't go with you if you paid her."

"I see, that's how you get her to open her legs, she's just a fucking whore."

Tom flew at him, and there were fists going in all directions. The group from the bar were in a semi-circle around behind where John had been standing. And I was in the centre of the semi-circle around the other side behind Tom. Our semi-circle being made up of the lads who'd followed us in from the car-park and just other lads in general who wanted to watch the fight. I was screaming in fright, fearing for Tom; as there was blood coming from his face. I'm not saying Tom wasn't holding his own, as there was also blood coming from John; but in John's case I wasn't concerned. Then suddenly the ranks of encircling spectators were burst, as three big men, obviously the bouncers, came ploughing through. One man grabbed each of the fighters from behind; the third man dived in between, forcing them apart, and taking more than his fair share of the blows they were still throwing.

But within seconds of them getting involved, the fight was at an end, and they just dragged both Tom and John off with them. I began to make my way through the crowd to follow to make sure Tom was alright, but as the third bouncer saw me following, he took hold of me,

"Where do you think you're going?"

"I'm with Tom; I want to make sure he's ok."

"You'll see him when we've finished with him."

And he turned me around, pushed me away, and said,

"Now clear off."

I spun myself back and lunged to his side, trying to get past him to follow Tom. He took a hold of me, turned me again, and this time, slipped his hand up the back of my dress, pushing his hand into the tops of my legs. I was shocked; we were in the middle of the dance floor with people watching from all around. But he held me with one arm around my tummy, whilst his other hand groped the gusset of my knickers. I began to struggle violently, but he had me held tight, and then I felt his finger inside my knickers. I screamed out,

"Let me go."

His finger found my pussy, and I felt him pushing it up inside me. And then with his mouth up against my ear, he said,

"Now fuck-off before I take you out the back and fuck you."

His arm came from around my body, and with his hand now placed in the small of my back, he gave me a shove. This peeled my pussy off the fingers of his other hand, propelling me forwards where it was only the fact I bumped into other dancers, which saved me from falling to the floor

I quickly made my way through the other dancers, looking for a face I recognised; that is to say, a friendly face. I was hoping to see one of the lads who Tom had been talking to in the car-park; I thought at least they were Tom's friends, and would help me. I did see a face I recognised, but it wasn't one of them, it was Frank (the lad who'd raped me and took my virginity). He grabbed me by my upper arm, and when I began to struggle, a lad I'd never seen before took hold of the other arm. Between them, I was walked across the floor to the bar. They ordered me a drink, and I said I wouldn't drink it, but as the lad behind me slipped his hand up under my dress, and began to probe as the bouncer had done, Frank said,

"Either you drink that down or we'll strip you here in front of everybody."

"Tell him to get his hand out, and then I'll drink it."

"You drink this one, and start on the next, and then I'll tell him."

His fingers were nearly into my knickers, and I knew once inside, he'd be probing for my pussy. I grabbed the glass, and took several swallows in quick succession. But from the first gulp, I realised this was a much stronger version of the same drink they'd plied me with the last time. I can only assume instead of just a single measure of vodka topped up with lime, this drink must have been a double or even triple. The effect it had as I'd drank it so quickly was to make me gasp for breath, and it kind of burnt my throat on the way down. But before I'd finished gasping for breath, another drink was set on the bar in front of me.

I looked at Frank,

"Tell him to pull his hand out."

Frank didn't say anything, but I saw him give the lad behind me a nod. The lad withdrew his hand, but as I was still surrounded by these seven remaining lads, I could feel their hands roaming all parts of my body. Thankfully on the outside of my clothing, but still sending waves of sensual threat. Frank thrust the second glass into my hand,

"Drink up."

And then calling for the barman, he ordered a third glass. I began to sip at this second one, but as the barman placed the third one on the bar in front of me, Frank said,

"Come on, get it down you. Unless you want him to pull your knickers off here."

I obviously didn't want that, so I again began to gulp down big mouthfuls.

I'd just finished that glass and picked up the third one, when the three big bouncers arrived. They were much taller than any of these lads, and without needing to push their way into our huddle; their imposing presence was instantly obvious. One of them said loudly, (he had to shout to be heard over the music),

"Come on, Mr Ross wants to see all of you downstairs."

The initial look on most of the faces on hearing his name was one of fear, but I had no idea who Mr Ross was. I later realised he was the pub owner, and a local gangland boss. But fearful or not, none of the lads attempted to make an escape, they all moved off obediently towards the bouncers.

"And you."

He said, pointing to me. So as the seven lads followed the first of the bouncers, I followed them, with my untouched drink still in my hand. One of the bouncers walked alongside me holding my elbow to make sure I didn't try to escape.

We were led out into a hallway, then through a door into a stairwell. Down the stairs, into a bleak looking cellar, which stank of sweat and some other pungent odour I couldn't quite make out. This was a vast space, equally as big if not bigger than the dance floor we'd just left. Even though this big area was only dimly lit by three or four light bulbs, we could see in the middle of the room was a sectioned off enclosure. Something like what dad would use in the middle of a large barn to corral a group of animals ready for the vet. But where a dad would use steel sections like gates lashed together, to make his pen. These were wooden panels, about four by eight, making something like a boxing ring.

But we didn't go towards this pen, but kept to one wall, bypassing it, and heading for a doorway at the far side of this arena. As we reached the door the bouncer knocked, and a voice from inside said,

"Come in."

The room we entered was such a contrast from the one we had just walked through. It didn't have much furniture, but what it did have was luxurious. A big oak desk, with leather panels inlayed into the top. A big red leather swivel chair behind the desk, in it sat a man of around fifty years of age, dressed very smartly. There were also two large red leather chesterfield settees, and the floor was lushly carpeted from wall to wall.

Tom was stood to the right of the big desk, and John to the left; both with their hands behind their backs. And John's hands had his thumbs zip-tied together. But as john was the only one of the two I could see behind, I assumed the same was true of Tom. The bouncers herded the lads into a group near John, and I was walked to a position facing the man across the centre of his desk. He looked me up and down, then said to Tom,

"This is her? You've got to be joking. I mean, she looks like a good fuck, but surely not worth all this agro."

Tom didn't answer, after just a brief look my way, he dropped his head.

Mr Ross then said to me,

"What's so important about that drink?"

I didn't reply, but just stared at the glass in my hand, and nervously looked for somewhere to put it down.

"What's happening here, can't anyone hear me?"

The bouncer at my side nudged my elbow violently,

"Answer Mr Ross."

"I I'm sorry. It's just a drink. I should have left it on the bar."

"Well drink it down, and look sharp about it."

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to drinking. I think I've had too much already. Do I have to drink it?"

The bouncer again snapped,

"Do as Mr Ross has told you."

I brought the glass up to my lips, but before I'd half taken a swallow, Mr Ross said,

"Put it down girl. You'll be no use to anyone if you're comatose."

I wasn't too sure what he meant, but I reached across towards his desk,

"Can I put it on here?"

"Yes. Now let's get this thing settled. Do you know what all this fuss is about?"

I could see he was asking me,

"You mean the fight between my Tom and that John?"

"Yes. What else would I be talking about?"

"It was over something John said about me. Tom was just protecting me."

"But you do realise John and the others have the right to fuck you?"

I was dumbfounded, I stuttered out,

"B,b,but how. I mean why?"

"Well as far as I can see both John and Tom tell the same story. This all started some time ago at a barn dance. The lads got together before they started looking for girls to hit on, and they all chipped in the booze money. And it's a long standing rule; those who chip-in get a crack at whatever is going once the booze starts to work. And by both Tom's and John's account, you were already knickers off and fucking like a good'un. So Tom stepping in like he did; it was him who was in the wrong. And if the lads didn't get their fuck that night, it's only right they get it at the first chance. So from what I can see, Tom's the one who's out of order."

I didn't know what to say, and there was silence for a minute, then Mr Ross said,

"Well I can only see two outcomes from this. One, you let John and the lads have what they've paid for. Or two, Tom attempts to defend your honour in the pen. Is that what you want?"

"I I'm not sure. What exactly do you mean by defend my honour in the pen?"

"You saw the dog pit on the way in. True it's meant for dog fights, but it wouldn't be the first time it's hosted a fight between rival gang members."

"D'you mean you'd put Tom and John in that pen and let them continue their fight?"

"It won't be just John; he's up against all the lads he cheated out of a fuck."

"What? Tom on his own against the other six?"

"That's the way it would have been on the night if those interfering busybodies hadn't appeared."

"But he wouldn't stand a chance."

"So he'll be defeated, and they'll claim their prize."

"You mean they'll be allowed to rape me?"

"Well I wouldn't call it rape. But there'll be no one to stop them plying you with drinks, until you give in to their persuasion; like on the night this feud started."

It looked to me like this Mr Ross had already made his mind up that I was going to have sex with the whole group of these lads. I looked at Tom,