©1999, All Rights Reserved

When Jeff suggested going camping the weekend before Memorial Day, I was excited. I'd been cooped up in the city too long. Some greenery, fresh air and open space were just what I needed. By going a week before the season started, we hoped to miss the crowds.

Jeff had bought a new camper shell for his pickup. This was to be its inauguration. I looked forward to it. I'm not a big fan of camping, mainly because I don't sleep well on the ground. We could sleep in the camper this time. And I felt like taking a long walk in the woods.

We went up into the mountains east of Bakersfield. Jeff drove and I sat beside him and chatted, enjoying the scenery. It was a long drive, up the mountain, and still farther up, on roads that gradually turned more narrow and twisty and primitive. We passed a few campgrounds, but Jeff kept on going.

The camping place we eventually arrived at was fairly primitive. There were a dozen places for tents and not much more. The restrooms were smelly holes in the ground and a cold water spigot outside. Only one other campsite was occupied -- a bunch of guys who packed up and left about 6 p.m.

I was glad to see them leave. They made me a little nervous, the way they kept watching us, me especially. But, then, I get a lot of guys' looks. Not bragging, just saying. Anyway, I wasn't surprised when men looked at me.

They drove their banged-up truck past our site on the way out. We smiled and waved, and so did they. One guy was in the back of the open bed, and he watched us until they turned out of sight. Jeff and I looked at each other and realized we had this gorgeous place to ourselves.

We fixed dinner together, then I cleaned up while Jeff built a fire. He had bought some oak wood and added some pine branches and soon we had a pretty, crackling fire. We sat around it for more than an hour, watching the flames, talking, sipping wine. It was pretty romantic. We were like pioneers, a long way from home, alone in the wilderness.

But we had a nice, warm camper shell to crawl into, which true pioneers lacked. It wasn't long before that began to seem like a good idea to me. I was getting cold and looking forward to snuggling with Jeff in the sleeping bag. It wouldn't be the first time.

Jeff and I had met more than a year before, so I guess you could say we were serious. We hadn't talked about getting married except in the abstract -- you know, where you make pronouncements as if talking about the subject in general but really meaning to convey a hint to someone about where you stand. Jeff was not ready yet, I knew. He knew that I was willing to wait. One of the things we were doing was establishing that we had a steady, stable relationship, with an implicit 'Then we'll see... '

So we each had our own apartments, but we were together almost all the time, at his place or mine. And we slept together more than we did apart. Jeff wasn't my first -- I was 21 when I met him -- but I'd always been pretty shy, which is to say I didn't get asked as much as some. So Jeff was only my third, and I'd been with him longer than the other two put together. Before Jeff, none of my sexual partners had wanted or expected much from me other than to let them and maybe seem to enjoy it. But he was different, more adventurous and more demanding. He wanted me to make love back to him.

I was generally willing, or willing to be persuaded. Putting my mouth on his penis took some getting used to at first, but I didn't mind trying the positions. I like change. I didn't want Jeff to lick me at first, either. I mean nobody but a doctor and my mother had ever looked at me down there -- even I couldn't see it very well. So I was reluctant up to the first time Jeff actually got his tongue on my clit, which ended the debate. I grew a little less reluctant each time after, and I started thinking more favorably about his request for the same. This might be a fair swap. So I tried it eventually and got used to it, even got to like it after a while. I liked things that felt... sexy.

That night, in the truck, it felt good to snuggle up to Jeff. The shell was a definite improvement, especially with the mattress Jeff had put under us. I had on a tee shirt, underpants and socks. Jeff, as usual, wore nothing, tossing his clothes down toward our feet. We left the back window of the shell slightly open, for fresh air. My nose was slightly cold, but otherwise I felt toasty, wrapped in Jeff's arms.

And Mr. John Thomas was nudging my fanny. I knew what Jeff wanted, and it was fine with me. I rolled over and faced him, pressing my breasts against his chest. I scissored his leg between mine and snuggled up onto it, rubbing my pussy on his thigh. I was mellow with wine, and willing.

So it wasn't long before Jeff had me stripped (except for the socks, of course) and his hands all over me. He kissed me -- kissing was one of Jeff's stronger points -- and ran his lips over my neck and shoulders. He sucked and licked my nipples while his fingers found my pussy and slipped between the lips and entered me. His thumb slid across my clit, giving me chills and fever.

There wasn't room for much gymnastics. Jeff couldn't go down on me with exposing my entire top half to the atmosphere, and I wasn't ready for that much fresh air. I sucked his dick for a while, but the position was awkward and my back got cold. When I shivered, Jeff pulled me up onto his chest and pulled the sleeping bag up around my neck. That was much better. I took his still wet dick and guided it into position, wiggling backwards to push it into me. Keeping my breast pressed against his chest, I rolled my hips around and round on Jeff's pole, hunching my hips into him, pressing him deep, making my clit rub along the broad back of his cock.

But Jeff was never content to stay passive for very long. He had his hands on my fan, helping to roll me around and pull me into his groin. Sometimes he would grip my cheeks and urge me to move more in and out. He tried to get his lips on a nipple, but I didn't want to raise up enough to let him.

"Let me get on top, babe," Jeff said. I could tell he felt like taking over. He liked to give it to me, and I liked it when he gave it to me.

He put his arms around me and, holding me tightly to him, rolled over to his side and then on top of me. Jeff's cock stayed buried in my pussy, and with scarcely a pause he began sliding it in and out of me again. I locked my legs behind his knees and rolled my hips around and around on the stiff meat he was probing me with.

Jeff pushed his prick all the way up my pussy and held it there, making little hunches with his pelvis that made the base of his tool rub against my clit. I squeezed down on it as hard as I could and worked it around inside of me. Then I began squeezing as I pulled my pussy down his shaft, relaxing as I pushed up, doing it again and again, milking his prick with my channel.

I could tell I was getting to him. Each time I stroked my pussy down Jeff's cock, he groaned with pleasure. I knew he was going to come soon and, even though I wasn't ready myself, that was really okay. I like making Jeff come. He likes me to make him come. But I kinda get off on the power. Like, if I do that, and that, baby, you're gonna give it up to me. And that keeps him coming back for more, so I get my goodies, sooner or later.

"Oh, god, baby, that feels so good," Jeff panted. "Oh, jeez, you're gonna make shoot. Ah! Ah! Ahhhh..."

Just as I felt his prick jump inside me, there was this click somewhere off in the distance, and just as I realized the click wasn't far away but right down there at our feet, suddenly the tailgate of the truck was yanked down with a bang.

My eyes flew open. There were several guys at the back of the truck. I couldn't see how many at first because there wasn't much light. Just as I opened my mouth and dragged in a breath to scream, a rough voice said, "Don't yell, or we'll have to hurt you." The breath leaked out of me in a whiny whimper.

Hands reached out and grabbed Jeff's ankles, dragged him downward off of me. His prick slid out of me and suddenly I felt terribly exposed, my legs open, my pussy wet with Jeff's cum and my own juice.

"What the hell!" Jeff barked. I let out a stifled scream.

"Shut UP!" the voice said. "Make another sound and you're both dead."

I suddenly knew who it was. It was the four guys we'd seen earlier. The one talking was the big guy, the one with the vest. They dragged Jeff out of the truck naked and dumped him on the ground. The big guy had a pistol. He showed it to me and then pointed it at Jeff.

"So, here's the deal," he said calmly. "My friends and I think it's unfair. Here the four of us don't have even a sniff of pussy among us, and buddy- boy here has you all to himself. Just not fair. So, since he wasn't polite enough to offer to share, we decided to help ourselves."

"You son-of-a-bitch..." Jeff growled, making a move to get up. With a casual backhand swipe, the guy with the pistol smacked it into the side of Jeff's head. Jeff cried out, grabbed his head and curled up in a ball on the ground.

"Not much like the movies, is it?" the man with the gun said blandly. "Honey, I think you'd better tell your boyfriend here to behave himself, or we'll have to hurt him some more."

It wrenched me in the stomach to see Jeff hurt like that. And I could tell they would do it. It only took an instant to decide, but it was more like just knowing I didn't want Jeff hurt.

"Do what they say, baby," I said to him. He was struggling to sit up, and there was an ugly raw patch on his temple and a trickle of blood on his cheek. "There's too many of them. I'll... I'll be okay." I was scared silly. I had a pretty good idea what was about to happen. But resisting was sure to get us both hurt.

"That's right," the man with the gun said. "There are way too many of us, and we still got our boots on., which you don't, buddy-boy. We also got our pants on, too. Which you don't. So I recommend you be a good boy." He glanced toward me then back at Jeff. "Your girl's gonna be okay. We're just gonna fuck her, not hurt her. If she doesn't give us any trouble, we'll just have our fun and be on our way. So you both behave, okay?" He turned to the guys with him. "I think that tree'll do just fine." He pointed at the tree closest to the truck.

Two of the men grabbed one each of Jeff's arms and dragged him backwards to the tree. They had ropes ready, pulling them out of their pockets, and they tied him to the tree, his arms behind him and around the trunk. The leader, the one with the gun, reached into the truck bed toward me. I shrank back, but he only grabbed our clothes and dragged them out on the tailgate of the truck. He pawed through them, pulled out Jeff's undershorts and tossed them toward the guys who tying Jeff up.

"Here," he called. "Gag him with this."

One of the guys picked it up. He grabbed Jeff's nose and pinched it shut, hard. The other guy grabbed his chin and pushed down. When Jeff opened his mouth finally, the guy stuffed a wad of underwear in it. Then they wrapped tape around his forehead, pinning his head to the tree. He was looking into the truck.

Sometime during this, I had regathered enough of my wits to grab the sleeping bag and pull it up over my nakedness, scooting into the back corner of the camper. When they were done, the four men gathered at the tailgate and looked at me. I felt like an animal in a zoo. In a cage.

"Well, ain't she cute?" said the man with the gun. He was not the biggest of the four, but almost. He had a bit of belly that made his tee shirt stick out over his jeans. He had a sleeveless coat on top of it, sort of like a big vest.

"Purty, too," said the guy at the left, who was tall and skinny. The other two muttered agreement. One of them had his hair cut so short it was just fuzz. He was the biggest, if not the tallest of them. Wide and stocky. The other guy had dark, greasy hair that hung in strands. He also had bad teeth and a mean face. His eyes seemed to bore holes in my face.

"Now listen, cutie," said the main guy. "I guess you know what's gonna happen now. If you make trouble, it'll just turn what would otherwise be a fairly pleasant experience into a painful, hurtful thing. Won't make any difference. You're still gonna get fucked, one way or another. You cooperate, though, and it'll go a lot easier. We don't wanna hurt you. We just want a little pussy. And if you're good, we'll let you go afterward, and your boyfriend, too, and you won't be much the worse for the wear. A good fuck never hurt anybody."

"Ain't like she don't know," said the ugly one. "She was givin' her boyfriend the goodies, all right. We just want some of the same."

"Haw!" the skinny guy said. "That and other things maybe." They all laughed, eyeing and elbowing each other in that thing guys do. The one with the shaved head pulled a pint of liquor out of his pocket, took a swallow and passed it to the man with the gun.

"Well," he said, taking a swallow, "since you're so generous with your whiskey, Peanut, whyn't you go first? Think you can handle it?"

Peanut, who was a lot bigger than his nickname, gave me a squinty smile.

"Aw, she won't be no trouble," he said. He put a knee on the tailgate and crawled up into the camper on his hands and knees.

I was huddled in the corner with my knees drawn up in front of me. Peanut came toward me cautiously. When he got close enough, I launched a vicious kick at his face, or tried to, but the sleeping bag slowed me down. Besides, he'd been expecting something like that and turned his shoulder into it. My foot just bounced off, and he lunged forward quickly and trapped my leg under him. He grabbed my other leg with one hand and shoved backward and out. My head jerked back and smacked the back of the camper, which distracted me.

My efforts at resistance were pretty poor, actually. By the time I shook off the whack to the head, Peanut was on me. His weight jammed me against the back of the truck. When I tried to scratch his face, he slapped me, hard enough to make me dizzy. Then he grabbed my waist and yanked me down toward him. The sleeping bag under me slid easily, and I fell backward, banging my head again and biting my lip. I could taste salty blood.

"Don't give me no shit," Peanut growled. He tore away the top half of the sleeping back -- that I'd been clutching in front of me until I grabbed my head -- and dove onto me, pushing my knees apart. I felt the rough fabric of his jeans scrape my inner thighs as he wedged between my legs.

I tried to push him away from me and got another slap for my effort, which pretty well took the fight out of me. He grabbed my shoulders and pulled himself up and pulled me down until his face was over mine. I reached toward his face, but he caught my wrist easily, and grabbed the other wrist before I got ideas. I was trapped beneath him, panting with exertion and panic.

Peanut pinned my wrists to the floor, did a sort of half pushup and looked down at me.

"Oowee!" he laughed. "Got some nice titties on this one." He scrunched down and lowered his face to my chest, sucking one of my nipples into his mouth. I whimpered and tried to twist away, but his lips pursued my nipple, caught it again, and sucked harder. When I tried to get away again, he bit it. I cried out, and tears jumped to my eyes.

"That'll teach ya," Peanut growled, letting go of my nipple. "Keep it up and I'll bite it off!"

He looked me in the eye, and I could tell he meant it. That's when I really gave up hope and decided I was better off letting him get on with it and get it over with. It was a sinking, terrible feeling of resignation, of hopelessness, of bad stuff about to happen to me. The guys at the back of the truck were saying stuff, egging him on.

Peanut glanced back over his shoulder, grinning, then turned back to me. His legs were between mine, his pelvis on mine, and even through the thick jeans I could feel his hard-on nudging against my naked sex.

"Now, I'm gonna let go of you, but don't do anything stupid," Peanut warned. "You'll be sorry if you do."

He pushed back off of me onto his knees, still between my legs, until his head pressed against the roof of the camper. My hands lay next to my head where he had pinned them. I could have moved, I wanted to cover myself from his eyes, but I was afraid to. I was not there, not participating. This was not happening.

"Ain't you the pretty one," Peanut muttered, then, over his shoulder, said, "Hey, guys! She's a natural blonde!" I would have covered myself then in shame, but my hands and arms were not listening. Peanut was talking to me again. "Now, you hold still a minute," he said. "I got a friend wants to meet you."

He moved his hands to his waist, watching me all the time, and began to unfasten his pants. He had one of those thick western belts with a big buckle, and those jeans with buttons, which he undid one by one, watching me. I wasn't watching him; I was watching the camper wall. Peanut hooked his fingers into the waistband and, in one move, shucked down his jeans and underpants together.

If I hadn't been so scared and stunned, I might have laughed. I had a good idea where Peanut got his nickname. His erection stood straight out, but not very far. It was lost in the broad expanse of his big body. It was a leaning tower of pee-pee.

But I wasn't laughing. I guess it made the next part easier, for both of us I guess. Peanut took his tool-ette between his thumb and finger, hunched down, poked and missed, and then pushed his prick into me. It went in easy. He was small and I still had Jeff's spunk inside me. And it had all happened so fast -- maybe five minutes? -- since Jeff and I had been... well, maybe I was still just a little wet on my own.

Anyway, Peanut slid right in. And immediately started whaling away at me, doing a sewing machine in my pussy. The guys outside whooped and said, "Boy, look at 'im go!" I just sort of laid there with my eyes closed. I didn't feel a thing, or rather what I felt was the pressure of Peanut's body, the whap of his middle against me. I know why they say it's like a bad dream, because it was like that, loony and distorted. I was scared and desperate and embarrassed.

Yeah, embarrassed. This guy I never really saw before was doing it to me. He was wallowing on my titties. And there were three guys -- and Jeff! -- watching it, watching me get it. It was... weird.

It was awful but it was utterly, intensely sexual. No love, just rut. I had this weird thought, I remember, seeing myself as the reluctant female and him as the conquering male. He was a primal stranger, forcing himself on me, in me, taking me, getting ready to plant his seed.

Getting ready pret-ty soon, I realized. As you might imagine from the pace he set, Peanut was not one to linger and dally. He worked himself into a lather in less than a minute, I'd guess. He started scrunching his face up, and groaning. Then, without ever slowing down, he yelped and shot his goo into me. Sprit, sprit.

Pretty soon after he stopped twitching, Peanut jerked his dick out and rose up on his hands and knees. He looked down at me with a satisfied smirk, as if to say, "There, I guess I showed you!" and backed out of the camper. He spun around on the tailgate and struggled into his pants.

"Well, Peanut," said the bossman dryly, "I sure hope you ain't wore her out. Did you leave any for the rest of us?"

"Aw, Joe, there's plenty there," Peanut said, which was the first time I heard a name for the guy with the gun. "It's young and fresh and tight. You'll be glad I went first and greased the path for you. Give you dick-burn otherwise."

Joe laughed. "Now, which one of you wants to go next?" he asked. "Andy or Bean?" The other two guys looked at each other and then at me and then at each other again.

"Why not both at the same time?" said the one closer to Joe.

"All right, Andy!" Joe laughed, slapping him on the back. "Go to it!"

Andy, the one with the bald cut, climbed into the camper, followed by the ugly one with the long, greasy hair. I recoiled from them, curling up with my knees together and turning on my side. They crawled up on either side of me.

"Hey, sweetie," said the ugly one with a grin, "it's our turn now. Why don't you relax and enjoy it? Might as well."

"'At's right, sugar," said Andy, who was snuggling up behind me, "Handy Andy and the Beaner gonna make your day." He put his arm around me, cupped a tit in his hand, and hugged me back against him, cuddling his thighs behind mine. It an odd way, it felt somewhat comforting.

The ugly one -- his name was apparently Bean -- moved in closer, too.

"Give us a kiss," he said, and put his lips on mine. At first, I held still and kept my mouth closed. Bean pushed his tongue between my lips and worked it around over my teeth, from side to side. He kept at it long after he should have given up hope, and the longer he kept it up the sillier I felt. And I thought, "Well, if he's going to kiss me anyway..." and so I let my jaw relax a little and let Bean push his tongue into my mouth.

Meanwhile, Andy behind me had worked his other arm under me, and he was cupping and massaging both my breasts and nuzzling the back of my neck. And -- this is hard for me to admit -- it didn't feel half bad. The nape of my neck has always been erotically sensitive.

Bean put his hand down between us and cupped my pussy. When I opened my mouth, startled, he kissed me deeply. Then he slid a finger into me and stirred it around, and then brought his fingertip out, wet with the juices of Jeff and Peanut and me, and rolled it around and around on my clit.

And, goddammit, it felt good.

Believe me, I was as surprised as anyone, even mad about it. After all, a girl doesn't grow up expecting rape to be a turn-on. You're not supposed to have a good time. I think that's a rule.

But Jeff, as had often been the case, had come too soon for me, leaving me high and dry. Uh, make that high and wet. And Peanut hadn't done much for me, but he hadn't done any damage either. He had taken me, had pushed his thing in there and churned it around. He had kept the pot warm, so to speak, if not exactly boiling.

So, when Bean put his finger on my trigger, my body just sorta responded. It was politically incorrect, but Ma Nature sometimes has her own ideas. A part of me was horrified, of course, but not the part Bean's fingertip was stroking and rolling. My clit twitched in response, making me draw in a quick gasp that I wasn't fast enough to stifle.

"Hey," Bean said to Andy over my shoulder, "I think our little sweetheart here is turned on."

"Yeah?" said Andy. He pulled a hand off my tit and slid it under my behind. His finger probed for my twat, found it, and slid into the hilt. His finger felt good. I couldn't help pushing back just a little tiny bit. "Aw, yeah, honey," Andy murmured in my ear, "feels good, don't it?"

I whimpered, part passion and part disgust at myself. But it did feel good. I was sandwiched between two men, one of whom was massaging my love button and the other of whom was now sliding two fingers in and out of my pussy. I was trapped between them, an unwilling participant, but Andy and Bean didn't seem very threatening. Maybe if I'd resisted, they would have been. They were going to fuck me, I knew, but they weren't being mean about it.

I'd already decided that I wasn't going to resist, that my best chance was to let them do what they wanted and hope it would be enough. Bean and Andy weren't being scary, they were being gentle and sensual. Two strange me were fondling me. They were going to take me. Having already given in mentally, I found it strangely exciting.

It was like Bean's finger on my clit had flipped a switch. The last resistance drained out of me, and I gave myself up to it. With a sigh, I let my hips move the way they wanted to, rolling around on Andy's fingers. I raised my outer leg slightly, giving Bean more room to caress my sensitive flesh.

"Yeah," Bean said, "Mikey likes it. Don'cha, honey?"

"Ummmm," I murmured, which wasn't a yes but wasn't a no either. It was a moan. Behind me, Andy laughed.