Chapter 1

Not every girl has her defences stormed by the SAS, or “The Regiment” as the boys invariably referred to it.

I had spent days over the New Year of high sexual stimulation and activity with three guys trained to the peak of physical fitness. It was wonderful moving around the house nude not knowing when one, two or all three would snake out an arm and begin a sensual sexual interlude or being buried asleep on someone’s chest and feeling a growing hardness against my pussy or buttocks.

When the guys left, I must confess I felt a little empty as I replenished my food and alcohol stocks, put a pile of laundry through my washing machine and dusted and vacuumed the house within an inch of its life.

I was due back in school the following week and decided to have the weekend away despite my recent Italian trip.

I decided a countryside break would suit and phoned a little hotel I had used in the past but found that they were closed for renovations until March. Almost as a throwaway comment, the manager said there was a new caravan site with clubhouse and other facilities just opened and offering long weekend breaks at ridiculously bargain prices to promote themselves. I phoned and secured a brand new, large caravan with all the facilities at a price which couldn’t be refused.

I was late setting out and it was dark and drizzling rain when I arrived at the site. It was I confess, a little spooky. Only a few of the main lights in the camp were illuminated and a few of the caravans had lights on.

A large brick and timber built building was situated just a little way from the main gate with a large sign reading “Club House” and, at the side, a smaller building signposted “Office”. I parked my car and went to the office.

Inside, two teenagers sprawled with their feet on the desk, reading well known men’s magazines which on seeing me, they quickly closed and dropped out of sight.

““Croeso!” said one of the boys with a warm smile.

“Hello!” I responded with a smile. “I am Mo. I have booked a caravan for the weekend” I added.

He looked down at the desk for a moment or two and said, “Got it!” and lifted a pad of yellow forms up and waved it. He read the top form and said “Today until next Tuesday and paid in advance.” He read on. “Apparently you discussed the location with my father, and he has marked the caravan address here.”

“It isn’t far, so if you don’t mind giving us a lift there, I can open up and check that it is all connected.”

Most of the site was in darkness but a minute or two from the club by car. We reached a few caravans with lights where we stopped. The boy, whose name was Wyn, opened the caravan door and gave me the key then went in and turned on an outside light telling me I didn’t need to touch it as it was now on a time switch.until they switched it off when I left. Heat in the caravan was controlled by a central thermostat and I could monitor the temperature on a digital read-out in the lounge area. The other boy, Michael (not “Mike” I was told; “Michael”) brought my bags in and announced that the rain had stopped.

A few checks to see that everything was as it should be and Wyn invited me to visit the Club House for a “Welcome” drink. I agreed.

Outside, the rain had not only stopped, but the clouds had mainly cleared to reveal a brilliantly starry but moonless sky. It was chilly however as we retraced the brief car journey on foot but still only a matter of a few minutes.

The Club House was unlocked and at the far end was a group of about twenty teenage boys sitting drinking, chatting and watching football on a large TV screen. Apart from a few loud shouts when something happened on the pitch, they were quite restrained and Wyn led Michael and me into a large recess at the side containing a well-stocked bar.

Wyn asked what I would like to drink and I asked for a gin and tonic. He poured what must have been a triple of gin at least into a glass, added a brief squirt of tonic from a pump and added a slice of lemon. The two boys began chatting about what they had been doing at the Camp site to get it ready and I ascertained that they were both still in school.

I hadn’t noticed but Wyn had topped up my glass while I was talking to Michael and, as I hadn’t eaten since lunchtime, things became a teeny bit fuzzy at the edges. Although I saw Wyn refresh my glass again, it did not register as worthy of comment.

Time passed and the match finished and the gang of boys crowded around the bar and flirted with me as the only female for miles. One handed me a large glass of chilled white wine and my mouth being dry from the gin, I chugged it down quickly. I was handed another.

Most of the boys had gone on to their caravans; but a group of four stayed talking to us and I was enjoying the attention and the totally inappropriate touching that was going on. Well! More than touching really as I was gently tugged onto my knees and presented with two stiff penises which they pressed between unprotesting lips while the other boys removed my clothing.

Next I was kneeling inside a ring of boys while I turned, pleasuring one cock after another and swallowing copious quantities of cum as they erupted into my mouth.

The cycle completed, I was taken to a low coffee table where I was first pressed face down and my pussy taken from behind before I was taken in missionary style.

I think most of them had me at least twice. I was in an alcoholic haze and couldn’t be sure.

A coat was put over my naked shoulders and they led me in the direction of my caravan. We went into the caravan and they spread me out on the double bed before I realised it still wasn’t my caravan and a tubby young boy climbed onto me and after a few tentative prods, began pump my pussy, burying a long slender penis deep in my belly. After a few grunts and groans and a wet splash at the top of my legs, he rolled away to make way for the next.

I don’t know if the next few were fresh or returning for seconds as I was rolled onto my face so they could violate my anus.

Whether I passed out or simply fell asleep, I don’t know but when I opened gummy eyes a chink of daylight could be seen through a gap in the curtains.

My face was in a boy’s naked lap, his flaccid penis limp on my chin. Another naked boy lay across my belly and yet another snored gently, naked across my feet.

I began to gently untangle myself from the sleeping bodies and discovered an extra leg. A third boy lay, beneath my left arm, head towards my feet, his lips brushing my left nipple.

Someone gripped my legs and a stiff length of boy flesh caused them to spread wider and the rhythmic grunts told, me that someone was putting his morning “stiffy” to good use. Probably only a minute or so passed when the “flaccid penis on my chin turned to wood and was being manoeuvred past my lips. Although I hadn’t heard anything, new boys began entering the caravan; several videoing the action on the ubiquitous mobile phones

The boy in my mouth groaned and I rapidly swallowed as he pressed in on me and spilled copious quantities of seed into my throat. His place was taken by a fat Asian boy with a fat penis and a brilliant smile. From the corner of my eye I saw two boys divesting themselves of their clothes. One was blonde with milk white skin while the other was inky black. They disappeared from sight, but I felt them opening me back and front and pushing into me.

I don’t know how many visitors I had that morning, but I am sure it was well in excess of a dozen. They took all my holes and several came back for seconds.

When it stopped, I climbed to my feet on wobbly legs (in part no doubt due to the excessive alcohol intake of the previous night). My clothes were nowhere to be seen and the boys laughed when I asked about and told me they were “safe”.

My belly gurgled with hunger as the caravan filled with the wonderful aroma of bacon and a few minutes later, one of the boys presented me with a large plate of bacon sandwiches with thick white bread and a large mug of tea. Bacon sandwiches seemed to be thee order of the day as more plates were handed to the boys lounging around the caravan.

As I began demolishing the stack of sandwiches, they explained I was to be their sex slave for the weekend. They had found my union card in my purse and not only knew I was a teacher but were delighted by the fact; adding that refusal to comply with demands would be met by physical chastisement.

I felt better after the food and they told me I could use the men’s showers and toilets located a short distance from the caravan.

I felt dirty, there was dried semen on ml body and legs and even my hair was matted with it. Several of the boys accompanied me to the low block huddled in the trees and followed me in. Once inside one of them handed me my toilet bag and i gratefully extracted my toothbrush and toothpaste before entering the communal shower. The boys had stripped and came into the shower with me, spraying me with a supermarket shower gel and used their hands to create a great foam over my body. The water was surprisingly hot and the hands on my body created a disturbing tingle in my sex. It was not to be that simple however and they marched me to the changing area where there was a large round wooden bench for users to sit and dress

I was told to lie on the bench and then one at a time they took my revitalised pussy.

A second visit to the shower followed and I realised this might be a long weekend.

Several of the caravans had TVs and I lay on the bed watching a cookery programme. From time to time a boy would instruct me to adopt a suitable position and use me and I was allowed th return to the showers if things got messy.

Lunchtime came with a bag of fish and chips after which several boys took me into a small wooded area where they took me in a variety of positions.

After the showers (again). We went to the Clubhouse.

At one end they were playing pop music and It was some time before I realised that the giant screen was showing my sexual activities of the previous night. Some tech whizz had managed to transfer the videos onto the Clubhouse system.

I heard a strange voice behind me.

“What the f*** have you boys got here.”

I turned my head towards the sound and saw half a dozen men standing, gazing at the screen.

It was obvious the boys were the boys and the Clubhouse was the Clubhouse.

“Who is the blonde bimbo?” one asked.

“That’s Mo, she is with us!” A hand slapped my buttocks, hard and loud.

Six pairs of eyes focused on my naked body.