The Pack Ch. 04byQuin©
The winter had passed without incident or upset. Steve and I sometimes felt cut off not being used to the isolation of a rural winter when the darkness descended early and all went quiet. In the city, lights came on and nightlife took the place of shoppers and businessmen. The village pub became quieter too and people stayed home for Christmas, though New Year went with a swing. I was beginning to feel pangs, urges, and often thought or fantasised about people like George, or Billy and Edward. It seemed that mentally I had split 'The Pack' into two separate groups, one exciting, and one frightening and sinister. Though that was silly as each group contained the same individuals.
One day in early March Steve came home in a jovial mood.
"I've made great inroads with the locals," he announced.
"What the hell are you talking about?" I retorted.
"Well, it's silly getting in tradesmen from miles away and paying top prices for work when the locals can do things much cheaper. I've made an effort and patched things up with some of those guys who worked here."
I was alarmed. "But you said they were lazy and slow and they'd never set foot here again!"
"Yeah, but...I think they were trying it on, seeing what they could get away with, us being newcomers and city folk. I'm sure that now they will play the game and as work isn't that easy to come by they will behave."
"Behave? I don't think so!" I said with a cynicism Steve would never understand. "What exactly are you telling me?"
"That I've done a deal with some guys, they will come and rebuild that dry stone wall at the end of the farmyard. If they do a good job then I'll find them more work. We'll let bygones be bygones."
For the next two weeks I was nervous and on tenterhooks though deep inside I felt a thrill wondering, and hoping, that amongst the men coming would be Billy or Edward -- and what might happen. The name Steve had given me wasn't familiar but without raising suspicion I couldn't press him too much, asking if he was sure the man was one who had been before. I hoped George would not be coming as for both our sakes it was better for him to remain separate, not for us to be in the same company together with the other men.
I wasn't prepared for what faced me on the morning the men arrived. Confused at first that the two men who alighted from the pick-up first were not familiar faces, I looked beyond at a third older man who was speaking to my husband. As they both approached the house my heart thumped, and the memories came back. In my mind's eye the scene replayed. The last time I had seen this face I was kneeling on the grass, looking up, surrounded by other men. The man came in with Steve who introduced us -- the man smirked. The last time I had seen that smirk piss was flowing from his cock, onto my face and body, into my mouth.
"I'll get off to work now and leave you all to it!" Steve said, rushing out of the door.
Leave us to it? If only he knew!
The dark sinister eyes penetrated, burned into me, behind him the other men waited for instruction, smiling, running their own eyes over my body, admiringly but with lust.
"We'd better get on," the dark man said. "I'm Jim, by the way -- sure we've met before." He grinned, knowing full well we had. "These boys are Al and Don. I'm sure we'll all get to know each other well - soon."
They went away and for several hours did what they were supposed to do. My nerves were frayed expecting the man to come to the house on the pretext of wanting drinks or water for their breaks but I saw they had brought flasks and was left well alone. I was sure the man would eventually come. On the second day the tension was too much to bear so I locked up and climbed into the car -- to go anywhere.
"Off out then missus?" the man's voice stopped me in my tracks.
"Yes," I said, "You have access to any facilities you need in the outbuilding over there."
"Right," he said before lowering his voice, "Water, toilet, somewhere to take a pee." The implications were made obvious by the way he twisted his mouth when he spoke, giving an evil grin; he was reminded me off the last time we met.
The third morning I still felt tension and when Steve left for work, happy with the progress of the wall, I felt a need to keep checking, looking out of the window, to make sure they were working, and not sneaking around, sneaking up on me. My nerves were on edge, watching the new men I felt deep inside a tinge of disappointment, thinking that had they been here under different circumstances I might have been inclined to take them tea or coffee, been friendlier toward them. They were handsome, well built, the sort of men I would have liked to get to know -- my mind began to wander, to admire them in a way very unwholesome. I felt an urge, a need.
Making myself busy with chores I snatched occasional glimpses of the guys, remembering the times I flirted and showed off -- when we first came here. I daydreamed.
"So how was George yesterday?"
The voice cut through the air and turned my stomach.
"What are you doing in here -- I didn't invite you in?"
"Just thought I'd come and see how you are -- so how was George?"
I was caught off guard and felt scared.
"I didn't see George -- what are you talking about?"
"You know which George I am referring to then?"
I stumbled and stammered. He obviously knew some or the entire story, the gossip, how could I deny anything, wouldn't I just give him bullets to fire, chances to aggravate and wind me up?
"You're lucky no one will tell your husband -- if you're a good girl."
"What do you mean?"
The man had craftily shuffled toward me almost without me realising it, now his arm circled my waist and with a jerk he drew me close.
"Get off me!" I snapped. He took a quick feel of my backside first but surprisingly he let me loose.
"I know what makes you tick," he said, talking very slowly, emphasising certain syllables, "I know the sort of things that turn you on, get you wet between the legs. We've seen you watching from the window."
"I was checking to see if you were slacking, being lazy like last time you came here!" I snapped defending my actions.
"Probably that too, but I bet you took time to admire those two hulking guys, harboured a few dirty thoughts, as you say -- 'like last time I came here'. You can't have it your own way all the time, select a few favourites from a bunch of guys and expect the rest to keep quiet for you. If you want to be a dirty wife then you have to look after the people who help you, who know your secrets. These aren't city guys who you run into at a club or a bar and may never ever see again; single one out from the group for a once only quick fuck. We all live around here, you will see us all the time."
"That's not the way I think!" I said, falteringly.
"Maybe I'm wrong," he said, "But not about you liking sex, that you'll never be able to stop yourself from wanting other men. I know other things too don't I -- what things turn you on? Do you want me to call the other two in here?
"Don't be ridiculous!" I hissed, my heart thumping.
"Come here!" he commanded, in a loud whisper, "Say thank you to me for not telling your husband -- about George, about Billy -- about Edward!"
He knew it all.
I mumbled something about how evil he was, stepping into his reach and being pulled against his body, having his hand on my chin to lift my face so he could kiss me while letting that same hand drop to my chest to unfasten my shirt. He licked my cheek and nuzzled my neck, now squeezing and rubbing my nipples. Pulling my breasts from the bra cups he fondled and stared, admiring, complimenting me on what fine tits I had.
"Please," I begged, "Can we move away from the window?"
He kissed my cheek, "No!" he whispered.
I glanced outside and felt sure the other men were able to see us. They looked straight toward the window; I looked back, almost expecting them to wave. Surely they would be able to make out the whiteness of my bare breasts, see the movement of Jim's hand over my chest, realising that I was allowing him to sexually fondle me, see me stand submissively and quietly.
"Say, thank you for not telling your husband," he said.
"Isn't that what I'm doing now, thanking you?"
"Say the words, I want to hear you say the words."
He paused to place my hand over his groin, pressing my fingers along his stiff shaft. I was beginning to feel funny inside. I looked again across the yard at the men on their break, who sat staring back. Would they know I was being coaxed into taking out Jim's dick; that's what he obviously wanted, I was already unzipping him. My hand felt how hot and stiff his dick was as I pulled it out to wank. I continued to watch the men as Jim mauled my tits pulling my shirt wide open and unfastening my bra. Inside I felt even more odd, more of that funny sensation.
"Thank you for not telling my husband -- that I have had sex with other men," I suddenly and voluntarily uttered the words, sounding like a woman in a trance, pulling the foreskin back and forth.
"Good girl!" Jim said, almost ripping my shirt as he pulled it down off my shoulders, trapping my arms. Spinning me a quarter turn to face the window he bent me forward and I was just able to find enough freedom in my arms to balance and support my body by resting my hands on the windowsill. Up came my skirt and Jim's finger hooked in the gusset of my panties tugged them aside to make room for his dick to penetrate my vagina.
There was more light falling on me now. My dancing naked tits in the window would surely be plain to see from across the yard; the men still looked. Would they know I was being fucked doggy style by their boss? Would they wonder why I had submitted so quickly and easily? Would they figure that there was a reason or just assume I was easy meat -- a sex-mad nympho, there for the taking.
The men and I seemed to be looking into each other's eyes. Jim was using his fingers, his arm around my waist, to tickle and stimulate my clit as his cock pushed in and out of my wet hole. I couldn't help it; it was a natural reaction to orgasm. Did the watching men see how the expression on my face changed? If the window had been open then they would have heard me moan and sigh.
The men seemed uneasy, fidgeting around, sat on their plank of wood.
The next day Steve was home, taking a day off work. Mid morning he chatted to the men and seeing me at the door called me over to join in. The conversation was hardly interesting but I was comfortable contributing comments. My husband was completely unaware of the electric buzz, the immensely erotic exchange of glances when the eyes of the men met mine, the two newcomers seeing a different woman than the ordinary young housewife they first encountered. Jim was crafty enough not to pay me much attention.
"Hey, pity I didn't chat with them earlier!" Steve said, later when we discussed the men and the job.
I asked why.
"Well, it might have been quite a turn on!"
He saw my confused look.
"You would have still been in your robe -- undressed. I'd have liked to have seen their faces if your robe had come apart!"
My husband pulled me to him and was very turned on.
"It would have been sexy," he whispered. "Would you have gone along with it?"
I answered in the affirmative making him even more aroused.
"I'd have got turned on too!" I confessed quietly.
A minute later we were upstairs, Steve undressing me. He had passed the window and had acknowledged the men in the yard with a wave. I was down to bra and panties when Steve broke away to go to the bathroom.
"I don't think they can see us but we better close the curtains," he said.
I slipped on my robe and walked over to the window, reaching up to draw the drapes; my movement caught the eye of the men who now all looked up. My robe was not fastened; all I had to do was release the two halves from my grip and let it fall apart. They knew it was no accident for I looked directly at them, they at me. The sill was low and they would see most of me; to make sure I pulled the robe open wide at one side. One man touched his forelock and nodded, I nodded and gave a smile. To maintain a little interest I left the curtains only half pulled together.
"Hope they don't go up on the roof!" Steve said as he came back, "You haven't closed the drapes properly."
I smiled a dirty smile, "So?"
Steve, taken aback, took a deep breath and showed me how turned on that little comment made him feel; then he asked me a question.
"Did you cover up when you went to the window?"
My robe had been discarded again before he had returned to the room, "No," I lied, whispering in his ear, "They might just have seen me in my bra and panties! Aren't I a naughty girl?"
Steve fucked the life out of me.
It was early one morning when Jim came strolling up to the house, wearing his evil smirk. Steve had gone off to work at six that day and it did occur to me to wonder if he had mentioned that fact to Jim, who now saw it as an opportunity. Normally I would have been dressed by the time Steve went off to work as it was the habit of common decency and behaviour not to be undressed in front of other men, especially when your husband was leaving you there in their company and going off to work.
Nevertheless I opened the door for him, standing there looking past him across the yard, seeing his co-workers, with envious looks on their faces, staring back.
"We've come early this morning," said Jim, his eyes boring through the silky pink semi-transparent dainty nightgown.
He offered no further explanation. A whole list of questions could and should have been fired back at him. So what if he had come early - for what reason? Why the hell had he come to the house?
Did I already have the answer? He was telling me he had time -- time to spend with me. Would there be any point in delaying the inevitable, given he had no qualms about blackmailing me, even though it would mean admitting his own part in the events should he blab to my husband?
I didn't see the point in arguing or fighting, he would have got his way had he come across a few hours later anyway, I don't think that day would have been different to any other. I released my hand from holding the middle of my gown together letting it fall apart, knowing that it was a sure sign to everyone there of my submissiveness. The two guys craned their necks to see more, watching me pull open the door and step to one side to let their boss come in -- and as they most likely knew now -- have his way with me. My little negligee would have caused their dicks to immediately go hard and they would have cursed that it was not they who would have the joy of ravishing me. I knew their thoughts; how they would wish to near that pink-white flesh they saw, to touch it, to fell the softness of that little negligee as they stripped it off me before exploring my holes, filling them up with their big cocks. To spend time with the errant housewife who entertains men while husband is at work.
My mind worked overtime, I was already feeling hands over my tits, being pushed up against the kitchen tops. Jim didn't want to waste time that morning; silently he took me, grunting sometimes, pulling aside my delicate panties, mauling and handling my breasts, roughly treating my nipples with his sandpaper like digits and palms. Fucking me hard, fucking me with a vengeance.
He wanted to prove he was top dog, let his pals see he was an alpha male, show off. Like the braggart he was he grinned as he turned me around, like he had done before knowing the men would still be watching, envying him. Gripping my hair from behind he rammed into me making sure all that was possible to be seen through the glass of the kitchen window could be seen; pull my head up, make me show my face to the men, humiliate me. I would be watching them -- see how they lusted over me as they saw my tits bounce and wobble about in the window; see my face as I bent forward taking the cock of their boss up my hole. Was Jim grinning at them I wondered?
I supposed that they could have eased their discomfort and created a little enjoyment for themselves if they had chosen; maybe annoyed their smug boss by doing it. They could have taken out their cocks and masturbated -- they could have walked over to the window and watched me from close quarters. I could be just as devilish and depraved as any member of 'The Pack'; people like Jim didn't have a monopoly on perverseness. I was by now taunting them; they would see me slowly licking my lips, half-closing my eyes while a dirty smile came across my face, mouth the word 'yeah!" Wouldn't you like to fuck me too boys, I thought? My right hand covered Jim's and pressed it against my nipple, my arse began to assist his piston-like movements. This might spoil it for Jim -- his loss of complete control -- no longer the master. Fuck me harder Jim, I like it! That's what I could have said.
Revenge came swiftly after Jim emptied his sperm into my hole -- its sudden spurt took him by surprise I think! I was about to pay for my grinning in his face when he turned me back toward him, his apparent annoyance, maybe jealously of my attempts to entice his men.
"On your knees!" he ordered, drawing air noisily up his nostrils.
My body shuddered and heart thumped knowing that he wouldn't want that slackening cock sucking.
"It's such pretty nightwear, it would be a shame if it was spoiled -- soiled! Open your mouth!"
A steady stream of yellow acrid urine poured down my front -- Jim was pissing on me. His grip hurt as it tightened on the bunch of hair forcing my head back -- this time I obeyed his order and opened my mouth. My eyes had closed but now they opened, gazing up into his evil face. To his astonishment my face would not show fear or disgust but would seem calm and he would see my tongue lick and protrude from between my lips. He would see a glint in my eye, detect a sign that would confuse him, a sign that pleasure, sexual pleasure, was being experienced.
Angry and pulling my face against his pissing cock he forced it into my mouth.
"Mmm!" was the sound he heard as I gulped down the contents of his bladder, which had now lost the power of its full flow. Jim once again realised that he had lost power, was not in complete control. My mouth sucked on his flaccid cock drinking the last short spurts, "Mmm!" I moaned.
As I stood up to face him he held my neck tight pursed his lips and almost kissed me remembering in time that I was covered in his piss.
"I should have known you find that a turn on -- when we were in the woods, the first time I did that to you -- I saw it in your eyes!"
Jim went away subdued leaving me to go and clean up.
Three more days passed before the construction work was completed. Jim had continued to 'visit' me, constantly reminding me of what trouble he was capable of causing should he talk, blackmailing me.
"They've done a good job!" Steve proclaimed gleefully. Such a good job that, in spite of my strong suggestions that he ought to shop around before awarding them any further employment, he was adamant that they be the ones who converted the dilapidated outbuildings they had used as their canteen and toilet, which were once part of the stables.
I knew it would be almost a ritual, that if Jim remained on the premises, I would, as I had been made to do for the last week, submit to his every demand. I had no idea, or indeed excuse, for allowing him to humiliate me, to satisfy his appetite for sex in any dirty way he chose and even use me to tease his workmates by making sure, while I was in various states of undress, that they caught sight of me -- advertising the fact that the man had complete sexual control over me, that I was his sex slave.