Sian Williams' brown eyes widened in terror, gripping the steering wheel tightly as she slewed the car and hit the brakes. For a brief moment the car skidded, tyres screaming in protest before she instinctively straightened the vehicle, narrowly missing the car that cut in front of her. Momentarily she was blinded by panic, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. The shock subsided, to be replaced by rage as she hit the horn.
"Shit for brains!" She yelled at the offending driver.
He waved at her and his three passengers looked back at her grinning.
"You fucking asshole," She shouted back at them, giving him a one-fingered salute, "You could have killed me!"
He replied with an obscene gesture of his hand.
"You're the wanker!" She muttered, calming down.
The rest of the journey passed uneventfully. The lunatic ahead of her proceeded to frog-hop his way down the line of traffic until he was lost from view.
During the week, thirty-six year old Sian worked as an IT Consultant. It was a demanding and time consuming job. At the weekend she retired to her retreat at the coast, away from everyone and everything, particularly work. She owned a thirty-eight foot caravan, just ten minutes walk from the beach, and it was her secret haven. Nobody knew about it, not her friends, especially not her friends, and no one from work. That way nobody could get hold of her. She put enough hours in during the week, including late night calls, and she figured that entitled her to a weekend in peace.
She was an attractive looking woman, long jet black hair and dark complexion which almost made her look of Spanish origin, which she wasn't. Despite her good-looks, she was single, mainly due to the demands of her job and a shortage of time. If it weren't for her weekend escapes she was positive that her job would intrude upon her weekends too. Nonetheless, Sian was pretty content with life in general. Her job paid well, she had a nice house, a good company car, and her retreat by the beach.
She arrived late on Friday night, opened the windows to air the caravan, watched some television and took an early night to catch-up on sleep missed during the week. Saturday morning she did her weeks laundry, hung it out to dry and went for a long stroll along the beach — bliss.
At lunch time she returned to her trailer, got her bikini, towel, and a book ready to take to the beach in the afternoon. She made herself a light lunch and it was just as she clearing away the door to her trailer burst open and four young men bowled inside. She whirled in surprise.
"What the hell do you think you're doing — get out of here now!"
They grinned at her, making no attempt to leave as one of them threw her book and towel aside and picked up her bikini bottoms. There was something vaguely familiar about them, but right now she couldn't think what.
"Bet she looks good in that!" One of them laughed, tossing her bikini across the room.
"Bet she looks better without it!" Another roared.
"If you don't leave this instance I'll call the police." Sian told them angrily, making a lunge for her bikini.
One of them picked up her mobile phone and waved it at her. "Not without this!" He turned it off and shoved it in his pocket. He gave her a one-finger salute, "Remember me?"
Her face paled. "You nearly killed me!"
One of the men turned and locked the door to the trailer, pocketing the key. At the same time two more were closing all the curtains.
"What do you want?" Sian cried hysterically.
"We've come to collect — remember your gesture," He waved his finger in the air at her, "Yesterday — in the car? Now if you are good, nobody gets hurt. If not..." He left his sentence hanging.
The four of them closed about her. Everywhere she turned she found one of them blocking her way. One of them grabbed the neck of her top and pulled. She staggered away from him as she heard it tear. Hands pushed her toward another youth, her top tearing some more. She was propelled away before she could react and her top ripped from her. The four of them gaped at her as she stood in their midst, her arms instinctively rising to cover her breasts. A hand lifted the back of her skirt.
"Well look at that!"
Sian whirled around, slapping the offending hand away, and the shoving started again. She found herself being jostled round and round between the four them. They pulled at her bra, groped at her breasts and tugging on her skirt while they laughed at her. With mounting dread she realised what they wanted was her!
"Stop it!" Sian screamed and for a brief moment they stopped pushing her. She was breathing hard. Fearfully, she said, "W-what are you going to do to me?"
"What do you think?" One of them retorted, clutching his cock through his trousers, and the laughter started again.
She turned slowly, unable to bring her eyes to meet any of them as they surrounded her, knowing that they were going to take her whether she allowed it or not. Resistance was impossible, capitulation unthinkable, but what choice: pain and degradation, or plain degradation? In the end it all amounted to the same thing, and submitting was a lot less painful than the futility of resistance.
"You want me?" Sian stammered.
"Now she's getting the idea." One of them laughed.
"It would be much better if you were to cooperate." Another one spoke seriously.
Sian was breathing hard, the adrenalin rushing through her system. She nodded her head slowly in understanding; eyes watchful, hoping for an opportunity to escape.
"That's the idea!" A triumphant grin broke across the nearest youth's face.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Another of the gang challenged.
"What you talking about man?"
"She nodded her head — what's that supposed to mean?"
"It means she'll co-operate you dumb-shit!"
"She never said so!"
"My friend here wants to know if you'll co-operate — will you?"
Sian couldn't bring herself to look him in the eye as she nodded her head again and muttered, "Okay."
"Okay what?" One of them asked cautiously.
"Okay," She sighed nervously, "I'll do it."
"Yes." She whispered, a sick feeling growing in her stomach.
They whooped loudly, raising hands in the air and smacking each other while they laughed. She watched them celebrate, forgotten for a brief moment. A lanky guy with shocking red hair turned to her. "Are you wearing knickers?"
Confused, she looked at him and nodded her head.
Her eyes darted quickly between them before she lifted her skirt.
"Not like that — take it off!"
Sian tugged her skirt down her hips and pulled her panties back into place before letting her skirt glide to her feet.
"Wow! I can see the top of the crack of her ass!"
"Never mind the crack of her ass — I wanna see her crack!"
"It's a nice ass!" A small squat youth said, stepping round behind her.
"Hey! Let's have some fun and get her to dress up for us?"
"I wanna see her tits first." Another put-in.
"Yeah — show us your tits."
They gathered before her expectantly. Her heart was beating wildly in her chest as she opened the catch and let her lacy bra slip from her shoulders. She turned her head to one side as her breasts fell free, her dark nipples exposed to them, and they were looking at them intently with lewd stares. From the corner of her eye she watched the arm raise, fingers extending like tentacles. She had an overwhelming urge to run before the fingers touched her — better to submit than resist, just get it over with.
The fingers clamped on her breast. Another hand groped her sensitive breast, they closed about her, all four of them taking a turn to massage one of her breasts, squeezing and kneading them, tweaking and pulling on her nipples. A mouth found her. She gasped in surprise as the sensation exploded, sending an involuntary quiver racing down her spine. This was wrong, this was dirty wrong, and yet she couldn't help it — she was getting turned on!
She tried to push them away. She couldn't allow this to happen. The mouth on her breast, his hand wrapped around her back, running down to grab her ass. He thrust her pelvis hard against him while another mouth locked onto her exposed breast, adding to her torment. Her legs buckled. Resistance fled her as she gasped again. They were laughing at her, holding her up. Suddenly her panties were torn away and cool air wafted around her.
"Look at that — she shaves her pussy!"
They freed her instantly, all four of them moving away. She pressed a hand between her legs, suddenly feeling exposed and vulnerable. Her senses still reeling as she struggled to regain her balance and stay on her feet.
"Show us y'cunt!"
The word slammed into her. What a vile, disgusting word — so full of anger and fire. Unenthusiastically her hand slipped aside to show her bare pussy. Every single one of them grinned as they leered at her.
"Play with yourself!" One of them demanded.
Sian was horrified as she looked at them.
"Do it bitch! Lie on the floor and spread your legs so we can watch!"
Now I am a bitch — a bitch with a cunt. And they want to watch this bitch play with it! She thought miserably. She lowered herself to the floor with as much dignity as she could muster. Not that it mattered in the end, they would see everything just the same. Sian lay flat on her back, looking up at the ceiling, refusing to look at them. Her feet pointed toward the four of them as they lowered themselves into the trailer seats.
.... There is more of this story ...