Chapter 4

The small group of guys milled around the clearing. Most of them had a beer in their hand but they were certainly not on a normal beer bash. Some of them were complaining or kidding Roger Savage for the whole scene. “Where is she, man?”

“Don’t know, do I?” he shot back at them. “She’ll be here.”

“Sure she will,” one of them laughed.

“You’re fucking us over, man,” came another comment.

“The only thing that we’ve got here is your imagination.”

This last comment was only barely said, with a resulting “Fuck you, man,” from Roger Savage, when they heard a car engine coming along the gravel road to the clearing. Roger grinned at the others. He said in a cocky voice: “Told you, didn’t I?” The others were silent now. They were all eyes, as the car approached.

They were waiting for Kristen Swanson to appear. Roger said that she would. Of course Mrs. Swanson was expecting to only see Roger there. It’s why she came.

They all stared at Kristen Swanson.”

“She was the wife of a banker. An older, fat banker” Roger told them.

He made it fairly obvious to them that her husband, Ned, was old and fat enough that Mrs. Swanson wasn’t really getting the amount of loving that she wanted. They had all grinned at that and the corresponding idea that they could fill in that gap. They were there at Roger’s invitation. Now, they hoped, the party was about to begin.

Kristen Swanson stopped her car in the clearing. She also hesitated for a moment before she got out. She was obviously reacting to the crowd, the unexpected crowd. But she took a deep breath and got out of the car. Roger advanced toward her. She had a big smile on her face for him. He was angry and scowling at her. “Fucking late, bitch!” he barked at her.

It took the smile off her face and the wind out of her sails right away. Her face kind of screwed up in a look of really deep concern. “I’m so sorry; you see Ned was going out and I had to...”

But he didn’t let her finish. “Stuff that!” he said to her in his interruption. “There’s only one thing that you’ve got to say.”

She shook her head ‘yes’ and said: “I’m terribly sorry to be late; I know I said 8 PM and it’s quarter past. It won’t, simply won’t happen again.”

“It had better not,” Roger said now, giving her no room at all.

Then Kristen looked around the clearing and said: “But you’re here having fun with your friends, I’ll see you some other time.”

She turned to leave, and he forestalled that also:”Stay right the fuck where you are. You see,”He said to her with his face close up to hers, “I owe these guys something and you’re the payment tonight.”

She froze in her tracks.

The group of guys milling around took her in. She was a bit matronly. She was about 5’6” and had fairly large tits, 38c. Her hips and ass were not as slim as they once was but Roger normally complimented her on them. Tonight she was wearing a pair of bicycle type running shorts, made of lycra. Over these she wore a long tee shirt that came down to the middle of her thighs.

Roger took her apparel in and said to her, still in a caustic tone: “Why are you wearing that granny shirt? Are you trying to hide your fat ass?”

She almost visibly winced at his words. She began: “I just thought as I dressed that...”

“I said stuff that!” he barked at her even louder. “We want to see your ass, not have it hidden.”

“Yes, sir,” she said, now very unsure of herself and the situation.

He turned suddenly to one of his friends, “Willie, give me your knife,” he said.

One of the group handed a knife to Roger. He took the knife, opened it, and advance on her with it. She stood very still. She opened her mouth to say something as he began to cut upward from the hem of the long tee shirt.

“One fucking word from you and we send you home to Ned naked, bare assed naked; do you understand?”

“Yes, sir, I do understand,” she replied and stood still again. The guys standing around the circle and drinking were laughing now about the way that she was allowing Roger to treat her.

“Fuckin’ slut!” one of them said.

Roger laughed and said: “Got that right, fuckin’ slut. Aren’t you, Kristen? Huh? Aren’t you?”

She was silent; it seemed to be her last bit of holding out.

“Fucking answer me, when I ask a question or I’ll slap you, Kristen. Aren’t you a slut?”

She spoke up quickly then; she knew he would slap her.

“Yes, sir, Mr. Savage,” she said meekly, “I am a slut.”

“Yahoo!” someone shouted and the others were laughing at her admission. Roger had now cut the fabric of the tee shirt up to just under her breasts.

“Are you wearing a bra?”

“Yes, sir, I am,” she said quickly; then she added: “Sorry!”

“I guess you’d better be!” Roger said.

Then he stuffed his hand up her tee shirt and did some snipping with the knife at her shoulders and then under her arm and finally in front. He then kind of ripped the bra from her and threw it to the ground.

“Say you’re sorry to my friends for wearing a bra! Tell them that you know that a slut shouldn’t wear a bra to a party, when she’s the entertainment.”

She didn’t hesitate now. She said: “Guys, I apologize to you all for wearing a bra tonight. I know that sluts are not supposed to wear bras, especially to a party, when they are the entertainment.” Her face was red when she said it and they were laughing at the effect.

Now her large tits, with engorged nipples visible, were pushing against the fabric of her white tee shirt, and with the tee shirt made briefer, her ass was visible pushing against the fabric of her metallic blue lycra bicycle pants. She looked around a little and then looked at Roger.

He smiled at her now and said: “Better, babe, better.”

“Thank you, sir,” she said. He leaned in and kissed her mouth. This seemed to please her a great deal.

Before she could relax, he said: “We’re all here for you tonight, babe; you don’t mind a friendly gang bang, do you?”

She answered quickly: “Not if that’s what you tell me that you want from me, sir.”

The guys were amazed at this, and they only stared.

Roger smiled and said to her: “That’s what I like to hear from you, babe. Now that you’re more properly dressed, parade around the clearing and show the guys what tits and ass are supposed to look like in motion. Shake your ass for us.”

She smiled then. She was ambivalent on the abuse and humiliation, at least she tried to be. She knew that at times it really turned her on. But she did like to display herself. She strode around the circle of the clearing, and did indeed shake her ass.

They whistled at her and clapped for her. “Nice ass!” and such comments were made. When she got at the end of the circle, she faced Roger again.

He said to her: “Tell them how this happened.” She spoke quietly but distinctly: “I, uh, asked you to come to my house to do some work for me last month.”

‘And... ?” he encouraged her.

“And, while you were working, I came to the patio door wearing only a pair of panties to show myself to you. Kind of to tease.”

“And that was because?” he prompted her again.

“Because Ned is just not interested any more.”

“Good,” Roger laughed, “Confession is good for the soul; isn’t it, guys.” This set them laughing.

“And now tell us all, right here and right now, what you’ll do for me?”

She looked at him with an earnest look and an adoring one on her face. She said simply: “I will do whatever you tell me to do.”

“Whatever?” he asked in a leering kind of voice.

“Yes,” she said again, “Whatever!”

“So, that means that we all get a chance to get our cocks sucked, and fuck your pussy and your asshole?”

She gulped then but continued and said: “Yes, that means that you all get a chance to get your cocks sucked and fuck my pussy and my asshole.” She looked around at all of them, as she said it.

“Then tell me,” Roger continued, “Do you really think that big sluts should be wearing any clothes?”

She looked at him again with that combination of adoration and earnestness and said clearly: “No, sir, I don’t think that big sluts like me should be allowed to wear any clothes at all.”

“Well?!” he continued, and it spurred her into action.

She quickly raised her arms and lifted the remnant of the tee shirt over her heads. Now there were comments about her tits and nipples.

Then she was sliding the lycra pants down and off. And now there were comments about her pussy and ass. She was both embarrassed and encouraged. She stood there in her pink panties and heels only, and looked at Roger.

He still had the knife and he hooked the sharp blade into the pink nylon of her panties just below the waist band. He slid the knife down and slit the fabric. He continued to do that all around until he had the panties’ material in tatters with the waist band and leg bands still intact.

Her mind reeled; again he seems to have opened the door to her darkest fantasies and put her right down in the middle of them.

“Ned might not want me,” she mused “But these guys certainly do.”

It produced in her a kind of a determination. If this is what being a slut was all about, then she was for it and was going to study being exactly that. Then someone pinched one of her nipples and broke her train of thought.

It was Roger who was speaking to her again. “So, Mrs. Swanson, let’s explore that promise of doing ‘anything’ just a little.”

“Yes, sir,” she said to him in an almost happy tone.

“My, my,” he said, “We seem cheerful about this.”

“You make me happy,” she said quietly.

“Well, then let’s see about other emotions now.”

He directed her to take off her tattered panties, which she did. She handed them to him.

Then he told a few of them to take her to where the trees began to mark out the ending of the clearing. With their belts they attached her hands and feet to the trees, stretching her out.