Tmaster57 presents

A Middle-class Girl's Journey - Part 12

A Middle-class Girl's Journey series story
Extreme, M+, Real Life, Bestiality, Domination, Humiliation, Interracial, Masochism, Pain, Sadism, Spanking, Submission, Water Sports, Consensual

Gone South.

As my husband was promoted yet again the pressure on me to move down and be with him in married quarters close to the camp. The pressure increased as I was unable to go back to work as my teaching job was no longer there, simply put I was unemployed. So with a three-year-old son and a ten-month-old daughter, I moved into married quarters in Dorset. We still had our house in Leicestershire but this was rented out to a client of my father’s Bank so the mortgage was covered, thank god. The forces have a structure Privates on the bottom Officers at the top; my husband by this time was a “Staff Sergeant” now with three stripes and a crown. Not a Private and not an Officer but a “None Commissioned Officer” which left me in a bit of limbo so to speak and without any friends, true I knew people there but I wasn’t friends with any of them, close to wives of other “None Coms” but never buddies.
As with the service itself, the wives had their own structure as well that said there were no Officers wives in married quarters. What there was though were a set of women who reflected their own husband's feelings. If one was passed over for a promotion he took it his sense of injustice on his wife and she took it out on whoever she could target. The majority of the woman there were from working-class backgrounds just the same as their men. As it was explained to me strangely enough by the wife of the Sergeant Major, “These women are largely decent people, they don’t come from much and they can’t see much-passed anything that doesn’t have a direct effect on them. By and large, they aren’t stupid, well most aren’t but they are herd animals and sometimes the herd pick on the weakest member, so don’t be that.”
To say I didn’t have much in common with the other wives would be an understatement. I was from a middle-class family in Leicestershire who spoke with a “posh” accent who was and I quote “Too stuck-up for my own good and thought I was too good even for my own husband” which was something I overheard in the camp shop. The rumour mill started very early about me, “He’d only married me because he’d got me pregnant, I’d married him because I thought he was an Officer, I treated him like filth because I thought I was better than him” and many more vile and untrue lies.
The worst rumour that was put about was that I was having an affair with an Officer a certain Captain Stephen Randal. This tall good looking man was sad to lose his life in the South Atlantic just a few months later. Randal was tall handsome a complete and utter gentleman from an “Officer’s family” who no doubt all the men for generations would have been officers as well. Charming and well-spoken, well-educated well over six foot tall with blonde hair and deep blue eyes a good catch for any woman. Yes, a very good catch indeed if it wasn’t for the fact Captain Stephen Randal was almost certainly a homosexual.
The first major row I had was with the wife of a Corporal some surly fat woman in her thirties with a big mouth and fat arse and it took place in the shop on camp. She didn’t like me, she didn’t like my attitude and she didn’t like my snotty-nosed kids either and she wasn’t afraid of my husband either. The slanging match lasted until she smashed a bottle of shampoo on my head sending me spark out. I woke up covered in my own blood with her being congratulated by some of hers all bitches.
I made some story for his benefit and he believed it or at least I thought he did. The second row with the same woman ended up with me receiving not one but two black eyes and her looking down at me as my children screamed my son bless him even tried to stop her he wasn’t even four. Those incidents carried on and the only person I could talk to was Captain Randal. He, in turn, spoke the Corporal whose wife was making my life hell, only to make matters worse. It was my son now was four who told his father something I should have done from the start. I can say that he was angry with both these moronic women but also with me for not letting him protect me. I was told that he’d deal with this in a way everybody would understand. His point of view was her husband either knew about it of instigated it, he’d have a quiet word with him.
The quiet word was had and resulted in yet another incident this time in a Supermarket car park after several of them had followed me around making comments about the “Stuck-up bitch who was really a scrubber” I ignored them. Once in the car park, I was putting my children in the car when the two sons’ or the ringleader aged fifteen and ten years old started to pull my shopping from the trolley and throw it all over the floor. I tried to stop them as did my little boy who was kicked by the younger of the two bullies as was I when I flung myself over him to protect him. The pushchair with my daughter in it was knocked and I was helpless to stop it rolling away and crashing on its side. At the hospital, they rang my husband as next of kin and he came with Stan his friend and Maureen the wife of the Sergeant Major. I had a broken rib and my little boy concussion apart from that we were just shaken up. We were told we’d have to stay in for a night and after a chat, with my husband, Maureen took my daughter home with her where she stayed until I was out luckily she was unharmed. Both the Police and the Navy investigated whose civilians who’d witnessed it was too scared to say anything the Military wives all saw nothing and one even said she thought I was drunk. My husband went very quiet on the subject, which is always a bad sign, a very bad sign for somebody.
Sergeant Major Rawlings organised some extra Unarmed Combat Training (UCT) for all units the next day all none commissioned ranks to take part as well. It was a very unpopular move as the men normally free by 3 pm liked to spend time with their wives or in the NAFFI where beer was a fraction of the price in the pubs. As a trained and fully qualified UCT instructor and a Sergeant, my husband was called in to help as was Stan his man-mountain of a friend and Lance Corporal.
Stan told me that it is in times like this that accidents happen when Marines get complacent and think they are better at this than they really are. This was the case with several of the men notably one loud-mouthed Corporal who had both legs, one arm, jaw and an eye socket broken in a single encounter when doing this training session . The RSM inquiry cleared my husband putting the blame on the Corporal for “giving less than 100%” as he did with several others with similarly broken bones. However; the Corporal was later given a medical discharge when later he was hit by a tile which fell off a roof almost killing him a few weeks later which was confusing because there were no tiles on the buildings in that section.
Later while sat at home the Corporals wife and a couple of her cronies were showered in glass as her 15-year-old son came flying through the window of their front room. Beaten half to death and like his father with two broken legs quickly followed by his ten-year-old brother who had also taken a beating and was covered in petrol came flying through another window. The Duty Officer they didn’t know who had done this to them and said nobody saw anything if they did they weren’t saying. On the way across the hospital car park to visit her son the poor cow was attacked in what police said was an attempted mugging in the struggle the mugger sliced off her left ear and two fingers. My husband’s only comment was “Bad things happen to bad people, adding well she won’t be giving you the V sign again will she.” We never spoke about it again.
A routine of extra training including 30 miles forced marches were also put into action mainly for those units deemed to be in need of it, which included whose with men whose wives followed people around supermarkets throwing insults at them. My life in married quarters was a little better after that but with the news that once more he was being sent out to the South Atlantic to South Georgia I decided to go back to Leicestershire to be close to my Mother and family as our house was once again free and I’d put some money to one side.
Several weeks after I saw on the News that fighting had taken place on South Georgia and that Argentina had invaded and a number of Royal Marines had been taken, prisoner. Straight away and even before the news had finished both my parents and then my sister and her boyfriend arrived. Argentina invaded the Falkland Islands my husband could be a prisoner of War or even dead. My mother-in-law rang to say not to worry, “We both know he’s too stubborn to die” I hoped she was right. I think the pain I was in although not physical was the worst of my life until I knew he was alive although I knew if he was he wouldn’t be safe.
It turned out she was right and he was a prisoner first they were taken to Argentina and then released and handed over to Chile. After that, he because of his “specialty” volunteered to be dropped in the middle of a war. Hell I was angry with him I had a four and a one-year-old to look after and the bastard had “volunteered” to leave us on our own, I could have killed him myself at that time I was so angry with him.

Captain Stephen Randal and several other people I’d know including some of the husbands of the women who’d been dreadful to me were killed. My husband came out without a scratch and if he did have any they weren’t the type you could see. He’s never spoken to me or anybody about South Georgia, Argentina or the Falklands War at all just as he’s never spoken about all the other places he fought wars to him it is just his job.

There are two things set in the folk law with regards to my husband; one was the way he dealt with the men trying to drag me into a van. The other was his return from the Falklands War. He and five more Marines in full uniform walked into a pub close to the station ordered 6 pints of beer and within seconds were engaged in a massive fight with the locals. The pub a well-known hangout for hard cases was wrecked over 40 of them were taken to the local general and ten policemen injured and a Police dog sent in after them was flung out via a closed window and ran off not to be seen for a week.
Their CO explained to Leicestershire’s Chief Constable what the headlines “Falklands War heroes attacked by local thugs and Police” with a sub-headline of “Ten Policemen injured, Police dog runs off in fear” would look very good for him. As for the brewery it was pointed out that they had a lot of public houses close to barracks all over the country. It would be a shame if several of them had accidents and burnt down all at the same time, insurance companies would ask questions fraud would be suspected payments delayed for years if they were ever paid at all. There were no charges were ever made and I had my husband home. He was quiet for him and after a lot of people including his mother and a dozen of his cousins visited he just wanted to be with the children. So he spent his time doing just that coupled with countless visits to the dentist to repair teeth removed with pliers during his time as a POW in Argentina. 

The Journey Continues.

Alison and her boyfriend Robert had continued their routine in buying developing and reselling houses and had just taken on their third and largest house a huge 4 bedroom Victorian Semi. As always Robert was making a good job of his work the last house they sold looked great and only took three days to sell. I think this was what lead us to move once more from our modest semi-detached to a four-bedroom detached house in a “better area” as my mother put it. Now a year after the Falklands war my son was at school and my daughter at a childminder when I worked part-time in a shop we also had a further addition to our household in the form of a dog, bought to guard the house and keep me company although he was no more than a puppy. The kids loved him still it was even more work for me organising walks for the dog and looking after two children.

One of his leaves the question of Rendezvous came up as it had been some time and I had my figure back and so he wanted to “play” some more. It was agreed and the next day when he went into Salford to see his family he bought a copy. I worked Saturdays so my mum had the children and I picked them up on the way home. When we arrived he was already home and after we’d got the kids in bed and the dog walked (his job) he handed me the copy of Rendezvous and told me to turn to page 10, there once again was my sister this time advertising on her own for “Sub women” how things had changed.

Robert converted the loft for us putting in a floor, roof lights and electrics and it was used by the pair of them as a photographic studio as Robert had taken up the same hobby. We as had a summer holiday in Kos the four of us and Alison and Robert. We even visited the nudist beach for a laugh and ended up staying there for the rest of the holiday. Only he kept his clothes on as he hated to get burnt but Alison, Robert the children and of course myself all went naked. It seemed natural to be naked in my soon to be brother-in-law presence, well on the beach anyway. As it was back at the villa we had rented although small in stature Robert was impressively hung and was bigger than average easily, I blushed one day when he caught me looking. I got into the habit of walking around the villa topless or naked in the mornings or in the evenings after a shower, Alison told me I was an exhibitionist. On the beach, I didn’t make a fuss when Robert volunteered to apply suntan lotion onto me even my breasts and buttocks, which looking back I suppose I should have done.

I didn’t know until we got back that Robert had told him that he’d seen us advertising in Rendezvous and wanted us to swap. I don’t know what my opinion was at first I was scared my sister would object but I also knew she was fucking my husband of course. What always amazed me was the fact Robert never knew of in fact suspected a thing. However; if we did or didn’t wasn’t up to me so best not say anything.

The family pet soon grew from a puppy into a large beast and something always should have told me from the start that he wasn’t just bought just as a family pet. One evening he triggered me and told me to strip lay on the floor get my knees up and open my legs. It didn’t take much for him to learn to lick my cunt and after more several times letting lick me we moved on. I had wanked my share of cocks black and white large and well not so much. This was the first time I’d seen one so pink and angry-looking; clearly I was as good at wanking a dog as men. The first time it was clearly confused that said he plainly loving it although I couldn’t make him cum. Unlike my two first encounters, I think I actually enjoyed these little sessions even looking forward to them once the kids were in bed I waited for the “question” which came every night.
The first time it came it was a bit of a shock as I knelt beside it there was no warning it just shot over my tits and arm and some on my chin. The other surprise was that he stayed up and its “pink” showed no sign of going down. I was pleased with myself and I was more than pleased with the fucking my Master gave me as my reward, hard and deep knees on the floor my torso over the seat of the sofa. This was also the position the following night that it finally mounted me with the help of my Master. This time there were no tears some trepidation and to be blunt it wasn’t much of experience either if I’m honest which I always try to be. The following night the fucking lasted longer and my pleasure greater it. Think it was partly because of the fact I’d managed it and knew my Master was pleased with me but also I have to admit the physical aspect was good for me as well. The “training” its and mine continued every night for the rest of his leave and by the time he went back both the dog and its bitch were fully trained.
Soon after his return after this, he was sent on a “Sea tour” on a six-month term which left me once more on my own with two young children. It also left me with a financial problem as my part-time job was ended by a new manager who told me he was looking for a more “youthful-looking staff for the image of his branch” charming I thought I wasn’t even twenty-six at the time. The mortgage was a huge part of the monthly income having moved to a bigger house the Rates and Water Rates also went up in line with the size of the house. Although he was earning more money I wasn’t earning anything now and as I still had a child at home I was restricted in what I could do.
The response to our adverts in Rendezvous kept coming in although there wasn’t much I could do about it at that time. I also wouldn’t tell him much about them either as you could never tell who would read his mail or listen in on the phone, ship to shore. When Franklyn wrote to me all I could do was tell him briefly in a letter he (Franklyn) wanted to meet up. The next letter I got from him told me to “Go for it with Franklyn if it meant getting out of the house” and he was “Sure Alison would have the kids on a Friday night if you asked her.” I did ask her and she was willing, of course, she was why did I bother asking her? Not only was she happy to she insisted that they stay overnight with them.
As I took his comments as more than just a suggestion, I contacted Franklyn who was more than happy for to come to our house but I didn’t think that was a good idea as the net curtains would have been twitching. It was arranged I’d visit him Friday night and come down on the train not sure what to wear and so I wore the same white cotton dress I wore on my trips to Oak Farm now seven years old. Once off the train I made my way to the pub I was told to by bus (I didn’t have the taxi fare) and went in expecting to see Franklyn there, he wasn’t. I waited with the same half-pint of lager for over an hour and as just about to leave when he showed up.
No chance of an apology for him being late he just nodded at me to follow him from across the other side of the pub so I got up and joined him as he walked out. The first thing he said to me was “Why you dressed like that woman you look like a Nun?” I told him I didn’t know what he wanted and I’d always worn this dress, well at least as long as I go to where I was going and I asked him what he expected me to dress like? The answer was simple “Like a slut a tart” he wanted to see “leather skirt plenty of tits and legs on display, fishnet stockings, white blouse, black bra, high heels” and added, “you looking like the whore you are.”  I thought to myself I can’t afford a leather skirt or a new blouse so I told him so. “If you want me to look like that you need to get your hands in your pockets and buy them for me.” To which he answered “OK Slag but you have to earn it.”
 We spent the rest of the night going from pub to pub in Stoke all within walking distance where I was introduced as his new “White bitch” him faking a Jamaican accent and insisting in calling me “June.” He drank dark Rum and coke and I was given Vodka & Orange if I liked it or not. We walked back to his house, me a little unsteady on my legs him telling me how much he was going to “Ride me and open my tight white arse hole with his BBC” and I looked forward to it. The trouble is that the vast amount of Rum he’d drank had taken its effect and no matter what I tried he couldn’t even raise a smile.

It is an ill wind as they say Franklyn may have fallen down on the job but his father looked in on the scene to find me still in the white dress on my knees sucking away at his son cock to no effect. “Leave him to sleep and come with me” was all he said and I followed him upstairs to his bedroom. He took off his top and his trousers leaving him naked and barked at me to “Suck me fuckin cock slut get that fucking dress off.” Senior as he was known fucked me off and on all night preferring to have me on my back when he used my cunt and flat on my belly when he was up my arse. Using each of them half a dozen times waking me by rolling onto whichever position he wanted to get inside my holes.  

Around 6 am Franklyn put his head around the door of his father’s room with his parent on top of my back fucking me in the arse with me whimpering underneath him. “When you finished fuckin me slut, send her to me for some more.” I was duly dispatched to the son’s room to find him in bed and the lump in the sheet told me he didn’t have the same problem as the night before. Although senior was far from “small” in the cock department his son was as I have said was huge. Telling me to get on the bed and open my legs he lifted them up on his shoulders and fed himself inside me making me gasp as he did. Lubricated as I was with several doses of cum and my own juices it still didn’t go in that easily and it never had, once inside he soon started to make up for lost time and was pounding into me and I was soon coming and making a lot of noise doing it.

I came before he did with him calling me names “Bitch, whore, slag, white slut, and white whore” and making me repeat “I’m a white whore, fuck me I’m a white slut” I also without being asked screamed “Hurt me, bang it up me, bang it up me, harder, fuck me I’m a slag, hurt me I’m a white whore” and moreover and over. I wanted him to bang me and I wanted him to take pleasure from my cunt or any other hole and after my second orgasm, I screamed so loud he put his big black hand over my mouth. Still he fucked me taking away his hand he smiled down at me, my back ached but I didn’t care I wanted him to be pleased with me and I remembered something he liked and pleaded with him to “Spit on me please Sir, spit on me Sir, spit in my mouth fill my mouth with spit, Sir please, let me taste your spit in me” and spit he did. He spat on my face and when I opened my mouth eagerly for him he spat into it and I thanked him and swallowed whatever he spat into it and I came again a third time as did he with my face covered in his spittle letting it dry on me as I knew he’d want me to.
I slept until around 10 am with a start because I needed to get home to my children. Looked around for my dress and couldn’t find it and panic began to make its way into my head. I was alone as my BBC had gone well at least he wasn’t in the bedroom. I thought I’d left the dress down the stairs and tiptoed down the narrow stairs where I found that I wasn’t alone at all. Senior was sat on the sofa and was sitting on my dress smoking. Once he saw me standing at the foot of the stair he smiled and told me “No point in being shy June we seen it all already” which made me blush and I asked him for my dress and stopped trying to hide my naked body.
Franklyn was in the small kitchen cooking breakfast and I asked him for an iron as my dress was a mess which he gave me, telling me he was going to take me out later and get some proper clothes in keeping with my as he put it “Status as his white whore.” He was disappointed when I told him I had to leave as I had two children I had to collect from my sisters. So instead of taking me shopping, he told me he’d buy the clothes and bring them to me Sunday asking me what size I was and writing down the answers, size 10 top and skirt, 34a bra, size 5 shoes, and my VS 34a-22-35. I was handed my dress which I ironed and after finding my shoes I walked to the station and got on the train. It was only when I arrived back at my station that I realised I would be seeing Franklyn on Sunday at my house but I didn’t have a clue at what time.

Robert dropped off my children and the dog after I’d rung to tell them I was home; he made some comments about me looking as if I needed some sleep and having something in my hair and then left, he was right I did need sleep and I needed to take a long soak as well. The rest of the afternoon was pretty routine food shopping and visit to see my parents who were a little put out when I refused their offer of Sunday lunch out which I placated by telling them I was busy but they could take the children which they liked as much as did I because it got them out of the way and left me at home.

Later with the dog walked and the children fed, bathed and asleep in bed, I took the time to have the long soak I’d needed since I left Stoke-on-Trent that morning. When I washed my hair it was still tacky from the spittle my BBC had gifted me. I distinctly remember smiling to myself later when I was on the sofa drying my hair. Maybe I’d get some more deposited there Sunday who knew maybe I’d get lucky I hoped so and the thought of it made me feel quite randy and soon my hand was between my legs thinking about it. The wonderful thing about a dog is their sense of smell it realised my state from the scent I was now giving out only he could detect.
It was a mixture of being alone feeling randy as hell and it is their ready willing and able. So I stood uplifted my dressing gown up above my waist put my feet as wide apart as I could and it came to me and like so many times before licked my cunt. I lay with my torso on the sofa cunt on the edge legs wide apart with it licking me out and I loved it I even reach down and pulled my cunt lips to get more from it. When it was ready it stopped licking and tried to climb on to me and so I turned over and with my knees on the floor and my belly over the seat of the sofa and with my hand guiding him it mounted me. I reached orgasm almost straight away and had to bite onto a cushion to stop myself screaming god knows why I was all alone. Having cum it climbed off me and I stayed still knowing that as soon as it had got its breath back he’d want more. I guided it into me another three times that night and I came several times and was so sweaty I had to take a shower before I flopped into bed, as I lay there I felt a mixture of a little guilty, naughty and a little smug with myself. It was a feeling I’d come to know more often and one that ultimately gets me it a lot of trouble. It made his way upstairs that night and slept at the side of my bed that was its spot after that it slept there all the time from then on.

The Generation Game.

Sunday morning as with every day I was up at first light with my son and daughter feeling tired after two nights of cock in one form or the other. Alison arrived with Robert who liked to take the dogs for a run and take in some Sunday football at the same time. My sister told me I was looking tired and I told her I needed some sleep and not to worry. I was nervous not knowing what time Franklyn would arrive that my sister would meet him which would take some explaining I thought. With Robert and dog returned I asked them to drop the children off at our parents which they were happy to do and once they had all gone I sat down and waited.

I waited all afternoon and later when my parents dropped the children off I was still waiting and still in my dressing gown. I had to run upstairs and wet my hair to pretend I hadn’t been like that all day. The thing with Sundays was that the children would run around all day and sleep like logs at night. Curtains were drawn I sat on the sofa once they were in bed and again I waited. I hadn’t eaten all day just the odd cup of tea but it wasn’t food I was hungry for that day. Seven came and went so did eight then nine which was the time he normally arrived. Maybe I’d got it wrong perhaps it was going to be the week after or maybe the following Friday. Then at just after 10.30 when I was about to give up the doorbell rang I opened it and there stood Franklyn and six other men all black I could see I was in for a busy night and I was right.
Clearly, they had all been drinking and were being loud so I ushered them all in ASAP. “Gentlemen,” he told them “this is me white whore June, let’s give the slut some black cock” he couldn’t even get my name right. I pushed them from the hallway into the front room the last thing I wanted was my children to be woken up, however; this was mistaken for me “gagging” for it or maybe I was. The very unsexy toweling dressing gown pulled off me and I stood there naked apart from my equally unsexy slippers. Comments were being made about my skinny white arse and tiny white tits. I was soon presented with black cocks to suck and I was pulled about from one to the other.
They fucked me almost none stop for what appeared hours I was fucked, bugged, spit-roasted and spat on until 2 am when one had the idea of some water sports and wanted to piss on me there and then. I managed to get them to do it outside and showed them to the patio door and onto the patio where I knelt down and put my head back but this wasn’t good enough. I was told get on my back get my knees up and pull my “flaps” open and my mouth. They pissed all over me all the copious amounts of lager they had drank poured out of their bladders and down onto me washing my cunt and filling my mouth, I drank as ordered as they laughed at me and threw insults my way. If the people next door woken up and looked out the window they would have seen the site of a naked white woman being pissed on and drinking the piss of seven black men, something to tell the grandchildren I don’t think.
After the left about 2.30am my house was a mess beer cans all over the front room beer stains all over the furniture and wet patches all over the carpet where their cans had been knocked over. I was also in a mess I was black and blue from being pulled about and I had “love bites” on my neck, tits and even on my belly and inner thighs. I put the cans in the bin, put down towels to soak up the beer and went upstairs to sleep and there on my bed were the clothes Franklyn had bought for me with a note “Wear this Friday whore” I was too tired to look at them and slept on the bed.
The next day my son woke me up as it was late and his sister wanted changing he was full of questions “Mum what are those welts on you? Mum why are there towels all over the carpet? Why does the living room smell? Why was the dog locked in the garage? Do you know you smell as well?” I did smell and I also smelt when I walked him to school and I knew I did. I also knew I needed some sleep but there was a fat chance of that with a two-year-old running about. By the time I got her down for her early afternoon nap I hated the smell of myself. I once more hit the shower not having enough time for a soak and I washed away all the piss and cum from the night before and collapsed onto the bed.
It took me days to get my house back to normal and the beer stain off the carpet let alone the smell. Thursday night I began to think about seeing my BBC the next night and I began to panic what would I do with my children? I didn’t worry for long as Alison rang to ask if she and Robert could take them to the Zoo Saturday and if they could have them Friday night so to make an early start. Once more my sister had come up trumps for me. Later I decided to try on the clothes my BBC had bought for me and I wished I’d tried them on before. The blouse was a size 10 he’s got that right but it was totally see-through I put it on and you could see the fading bites on my body let alone a black bra. The bra itself was a 34a but a quarter cup and my nipples were on full view as all the bra did was act as a shelf to hold them up. Plus the leather skirt was so short you could see the tops of the fishnet stockings even if you shortened the suspender straps as short as you could. As for the shoes, the heels were 5” stilettos I’d have to spend half the next day practicing just to walk in them, which is what I did. Then to cap it all Robert arrived to walk the dog and saw me in the clothes. I told him I was trying on an outfit for a fancy dress party we were going to when he came back off ship. Clearly, he knew I was lying and much later I’d find out what an impression I’d made on him that night.
I got some funny or I should say “old fashioned” looks on the train even though I was wearing a coat I think it was the fishnets that did it as they were not exactly fashionable at the times and nobody had worn stockings for years, well only prostitutes that is or porno actors maybe and it would be another few years before they made their fashion comeback. I waited in the same pub this time I took a later train and I still had to wait for him for over an hour. I remember sitting in the same corner with half a pint of lager making it last. I was joined at one point by an older man who it occurred to me though I was “on the game” (fishnets again) he soon went away when I told him I was waiting for my boyfriend and we were going to a fancy dress party (same one as I told Robert about) and he’d be here anytime. It was hot in that pub and I was just about to take off my coat when I remembered what I was wearing underneath. I was also getting a funny look from the landlord of the pub and just when I thought he was about to say something Franklyn arrived.
After a couple more drinks this time Port & lemon for me dark rum for him we left for a party he’d been invited to. This wasn’t close so he stopped a taxi and in we got. He was wanted to see the clothes he’d bought me and I opened my coat to show him and he was impressed and that pleased me. He put his hand under the skirt and I automatically opened my legs which he liked as well and his hand found my newly shaven cunt “No pants nice, slut” I smiled at him and he liked that as well so did the taxi driver who was adjusting his rearview mirror. The only adjustment Franklyn made was to unbutton two buttons of my blouse to show what little cleavage I had which with A cups size wasn’t much.
We arrived at the house the party was being held at and I was expecting to find another terraced house but this was huge and the taxi dropped us off at the end of a long drive which I struggled to walk up in my new 5” heels. Franklyn helped himself to “a piece of finger pie” on the way up the drive which made me horny and always does as I simply love to be fingered. The door was opened by a white middle-aged man about the same age as my father. I thought I recognised him but I wasn’t certain and I don’t recall his name. He, however; he did know my name and invited us both in using both our names calling me Susan and not June. I thought it odd at the time and even said so later to Franklyn, who just smiled at me. Our host took my coat from me and his eyes went straight to my tits which had the nipples sticking out. I may not have huge tits but my nipples have always been on the big side and it was told and I was wearing a totally see-through blouse after all.
I looked like the party was in full swing when we got there about 11.30 and at first, I felt just a little self-conscious with my fishnets and stocking tops on display. A few men wanted to take me upstairs but Franklyn said “No not just yet” and I noticed he looked a little out of his comfort zone as he was the only black face there and with mostly white middle-class people in attendance he was beginning to look quite nervous. One woman told me that she’d met me at Oak Farm but as I had my eyes on the ground most of the time there I didn’t recognise her either she told me she was looking forward to later on and walked away stopping once to smile at my BBC.
I was stood like a wallflower behind Franklyn as if disconnected from the others by him there but separate. Just after midnight, he wasn’t the only as the doorbell range on our host went to answer it and let in another four guys all black one of which was Noval who I’d not seen for some time, not since his dog last had me weeks after I’d given birth. I’d never forgotten the humiliation of that night and the comments made about me or the tears I cried. Once inside the men made their way over to Franklyn and it was high fives all way around as I stood behind him my eyes cast down to the ground. Noval pulled me out from where I was hiding and told me “Come here bitch me want to see if you wet” and put his hand between my legs and slipped a finger into my cunt as my legs inevitably opened, I was and he told the others. It was then I noticed a woman naked being led around on a leash attached to a collar around her neck, by an older looking woman who I realised was the same one that told me she knew me from Oak Farm Mistress Tricia.
Franklyn told the others that he’d “Better get me a white bitch on a leash like that” it didn’t dawn on me that it was me he was talking about. Various people appeared to be wandering off to other rooms including the four black guys who disappeared with the woman on the dog leash and the one holding it. Later one of them reappeared with the collar and leash and handed it to Franklyn. One more high-five and then he put it on me and I blushed deeply. By 1 am there were more naked or semi-naked people than dressed and still Franklyn held onto my new leash and told people to ask if I was available “Not yet’’ and sent them away doing the same for women who asked his he wanted to play.
Out host joined us at 2 am and spoke to Franklyn who once mine host had walked away turned to me and told me “Get your clothes off bitch time to go to work and pay me back for them” he tugged on the leash and I did what he wanted. Now naked he walked me across room to a sofa and our host joined us banging a teaspoon against wine glass he got people’s attention and announced “Ladies & Gentlemen it is now time for the entertainment” a loud cheer went up “I have arranged a special treat tonight something I know some of you have never seen but have wanted to, all I ask is that you keep as quiet as possible at the start and once it’s started you can make as much noise as you like. Afterward if you feel like it one of our performers will be available for use, enjoy the show.”
Seconds later Norval walked in with his dog, so I was going to be the entertainment the show and the one available after the show, wow lucky me. Using the leash Franklyn pulled me over to the sofa and pulling down on it forced me to my knees. It was brutal and not only did it hurt me it left a Robert which was there for days. Sniffing at me the dog was onto me straight away but got off once I collapse onto my stomach and again using the leash I was pulled up and told: “Get across the sofa bitch.” Once I had my body over the seat the dog mounted me again and without being asked I guided it inside me. I tried not to make a sound but it was big and powerful and pounding at me and I heard myself groaning at first and after that wailing my approval. All I wanted was it to fuck me and fuck me hard and all it wanted so to pound me until it came and cum it did the last few strokes going deeper and making me scream in a combination of pain and utter pleasure.
The audience of about fifty people all applauded with claps and cheers which put the animal off but I knew it wasn’t over. After a drink from a bowl place close to us, it mounted me again and once more I guided it inside me. The second fuck is always more intense than the first as the dog finds it harder to cum and so it works harder to make its self cum again. The opposite could be said for the woman on the receiving end of the fucking, in this case, me and soon my own orgasm had me screaming loud enough for those upstairs fucking each other could hear it and came to see who was making the din. I was like a limp rag doll at the end of the second time I just knelt their knees on the carpet the fronts of my thighs up against the front of the sofa and my belly over the seat. When it came a second time it stayed inside me the last few jerks moving me up off my knees and so deep my stomach ached.
I lay thereafter it had got out of me panting and feeling people behind me opening my cunt with their fingers and making comments about the dog's cum seeping out of me. I didn’t have the strength to move or answer any questions. Franklyn and Norval were happy to answer them:

“Who is she?” answer “She just a white whore we keep.”

“Will she suck its cock?” answer “Sure man.”

“She going to swallow its cum?” Answer “Sure man.”

“She takes him up her arse?” Answer “Sure man right now if you like.”
I was a dirty slag and a  filthy whore who fucking loved dog cock, what a slut, what a dirty slag a fucking black cock whore you name it they called me it. After almost half an hour it was ready for more and by this time its cum had reached down my thigh and out of my cunt forming a small pool on the floor. Again using the leash Norval yanked me off the sofa and onto the floor where he’d got the dog laying his “pink” pointing out of his fur looking angry hot. “Suck that cock you bitch get that cock in your mouth you fucking white whore” I knelt at its side lowered my head closed my eyes and took its cock into my mouth. If I close my eyes now I can hear the gasps of shock, delight, and horror as I took it in fully.
No swallowing this time because the dog didn’t like what was happening to him instead it wanted to fuck and stood up and tried to push me with his nose over to the sofa. Somebody, I don’t know who took hold of the leash and pulled me over I was truly tired at this point and as the dog mounted me somebody shouted “In her arse put it in her shit hole” to some applaud. That said a pair of black hands pulled my arse cheeks apart I think it was Franklyn because he spat on my arse hole and fed the dog inside me. There was no third orgasm for me just discomfort and pain. My whimpers of pain was mistaken for satisfaction bringing more insults in my direction. There was a third orgasm for the dog and a fourth as well and after an hour and a half of fucking me it had, had enough and wanted to sleep, typical man.

I was taken upstairs put on a bed and left to be fucked or inspected by which time it was about 4 am. Dressed like a slut we left at 7 am in the meantime all the black guys had come in and fucked me some had brought people to watch others just to fuck me and call me names. In between the BBC’s coming for a fuck six or seven others came in and fucked me in one hole or the other.

When we left we took a taxi back to Franklyn’s house it was 8.30 when we got there I was sore, tired, bruised, scratched from the dogs front paws and had spunk dried in my hair and parts of my body both animal and human. All I wanted was to shower and go home instead I heard the voice of Senior shouting “Son send the whore to me I want some white arse and tell the bitch to hurry her skinny white arse.”  I looked pleadingly at Franklyn who just told me “You heard da man you bitch get up there and please me, father.”
I arrived back at my house after taking a taxi just after midday. I caught sight of myself in the driver's mirror as we drove to my house and I was a real mess. Senior had fucked me like blow-up doll for two hours rolling onto my back or belly to get access to whichever hole he wanted. I was just too tired to move not only had he fucked me he gave me a huge love bite on the side of my neck which took most of it up. Alison and Robert had the children so I took to the bath and then went to get some sleep ready for them to get home later. I threw my dressing gown on when the doorbell as I heard my son shouting to be let in. Robert opened the door with his key and gave me a knowing smile. At first, I thought to myself, “Oh god he knows about the party” it was only later when I cleaned my teeth I realised he’d seen the love bite, he must have thought “what a slut” and he’d be right I was.
Wearing a neck scarf in late summer isn’t a good idea mainly because it’s not cold and secondly every person who sees you wearing it will presume you hiding some bite or other, which of course I was. Putting up with peoples knowing looks is one thing having to explain a love bite to a four-year-old is another so the scarf stayed on. I washed my new outfit on Sunday ready for my next encounter which almost came mid-week with Franklyn wanted “a ride’’ before the weekend. I explained that wasn’t on and that my children came first and second so first and foremost no more visits to my house and no midweek fucking. This said he rang me again telling me that he couldn’t meet me Friday as Stoke were playing in London Saturday and he and the boys were going to the match the day before, the real reason he wanted a mid-week ride off me. All the same, I was to go and see Senior and be nice to him go to the same pub as always.
I duly arrived Friday night at the pub dressed in my slut Uniform nipples on open show held up for inspection through my white see-through blouse by the black bra the bite he’d inflicted on my neck was still fully visible. Oddly I didn’t feel so uneasy or conspicuous as before I can’t explain why as I was still getting the dirty looks from the women and leered at by the men. It wasn’t Senior that came into the bar but Franklyn Franklin the 3rd Franklyn’s son and Seniors grandson. He was about the same age as myself I was twenty- five by then I doubt he was much older and could have been younger he didn’t say and I didn’t ask.
“You must be June” and I corrected him “Susan, June you still me dads whore which makes you my whore as well so you call me Junior or maybe Sir what you think whore?” I didn’t think anything I just nodded my head. Which made him ask again “What you think whore?” this time he took my hand and squeezed hard I told him “Yes Sir” I was scared and he knew it. So, Sir, it was them that point on, that established he moved me to another room in the dirty little pub the wall brown with the nicotine of tens of thousands of cigarettes he sat me behind a table sat next to me and with the table protecting us from being seen from the front with me on the left of him put his hand up the short leather skirt and I opened my legs for him to finger my cunt. Within no more than 120 seconds I’d met a man I didn’t know and agreed I was a whore, agreed to call him Sir and let him finger me, which he was making a fine job of. Not only had I done that but I was enjoying it and to be frank I didn’t care if half the Potteries saw it after a very few seconds.
The thing was that he’d chosen the table better because clearly all anybody could see was our faces unless they knelt down or looked under it was impossible to see what was happening underneath unless that was your face gave it away. My new Franklyn Junior looked straight ahead drinking a beer with his free hand. He turned to me and kissed me full on the mouth pushing his tongue into my mouth something unusual for me as most of the men who’d had me before never did. It was something I hardly thought about in those days, being kissed that is but I have also given it a great deal of thought since. Maybe it was just vanilla men who wanted to kiss you as in “boyfriends” or maybe kissing suggested something more than just using me for sex. Couples we met via Rendezvous and we “swapped” with would kiss me male or female but I knew this was the first black man to kiss me and there had already been a few of those and I think it added something for me. Certainly, none of the people I’d met at Oak Farm had never done it or even tried to nobody male anyway.
I was sat their legs apart kissing a man I’d never seen before with his fingers inside my cunt in a public place and loving every second of it. Taking his fingers out of me just before I came, he looked at me and told me “Take off the bra, it getting on my nerves.” I stood up to go to the ladies and he stopped me I told him I was going to take off the bra, even though it had occurred that my tits would be on clear show. “Here take the fuckin bra off here you stupid whore” he told me and I started to pull it out of my skirt and unbuttoned it telling him “Yes Sir” I turned my back to the room and slipped the bra off first down one are then the other and handed it to him and he put it in his pocket.  I was given a £5 note and told to go to the bar and get him another drink which I did with the barman’s eyes transfixed on my tits as I walked past another table on the way back to him I heard the elderly woman on a table comment “Slut’’ and I blushed.
I gave him the beer and the change as I stood before him he lifted the short hem of my dress knowing the woman was watching and in a loud voice for her and her equally ancient companion “No she a whore not a slut” and they left their half-empty glasses and scuttled out. I sat down next to him back once more to the wall facing not at him but into the room. I looked down at his crotch as I became aware he was unzipping his trousers “Take out my cock whore” he told me not even looking at me and reached in and found it and like father like son it was huge and a smile broke across his smug face, “Wank it whore” I did and I told him “Yes Sir.”  

If anything he was bigger than his father and as it grew I knew that he was able to get harder than him as well. A hand at the back of my neck told me he wanted me to suck it and once again as I always did I complied. As I sucked him he commented about the still visible bite on my neck what he said I don’t recall but I doubt it was very complimentary. Pulling me up he told me to he wanted to go he was sick of the stinking place and the old farts that drank there. We took a taxi into Hanley one of the other five towns which made up City and went into a nightclub, me attached to his arm. I have to admit I had a good time Junior was good to be with although when asked by people he knew as “Me new bitch” or “New whore” and in one case to another black guy who had already met me in biblical sense “Me father pass me this white whore down, she mine cunt now” which I suppose I was at least for the time being. I drank and we danced and I clearly forgot that not only were my tits on show so was my stocking tops and when he swung me around my arse and shaved cunt.

We left the club about 3 am and as I was more than a little drunk, in fact, I was staggering no taxi would stop for us which didn’t please Junior very much. Tottering on my high heels with him half holding me up and at the same time keeping an eye open for a cab didn’t improve his mood. All of a sudden he dragged me off the street and into an alley and bent me over a dustbin kicked my feet apart and without doing anything he forced his cock up my arse. It hurt and I screamed god knows how nobody came to see what was happening. I ended up flat on my face in the gutter when he came up me but sobering up quickly and we soon got a cab. His house was next door but one from his fathers and grandfathers he wasn’t in a happy mood when we arrived at it. He was, however; in the mood for more cunt and after telling me to take off my blouse, skirt and shoes leaving me in black fishnet stockings and suspender belt he fucked me over and over all night.
In the morning stockings ruined I took them off before he fucked me a couple of times both times hard and giving me plenty hard slaps on my arse as he fucked it, leaving me bruised and sore. My blouse was also filthy dirty as was my skirt I grabbed a quick shower and sponged the blouse as best as I could I was reunited with my bra and coat and was just about to leave when he called me back with the taxi waiting outside. Once again he kissed me and I felt his hand lifting my skirt, as he fingered me something I do really love, he bit each side of my neck leaving me with deep angry love bite and another two weeks of wearing a neck scarf. It dawned on me when I was being driven to the station that I had now fucked three generations of the same family.

To be continued....

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